This post is long, but hey, I didn’t have much to do this afternoon. No classes, as the term is over today, and most of the teachers took vacation and bolted at noon.

Friday

The Subaru salesman delivered our new car, which I’ve mentioned is exactly like our old car in America, to my school, where it was waiting for me at the end of the day (yes, delivered. The process took weeks, but the dealer handled most of the paperwork, thank god, and when it was ready he drove it to our door, or rather, my school’s door). For being 10 years old, it’s in remarkable condition. The engine has 72,000 kilometers (about 44,000 miles) on it, which Tricia was suspicious of, considering its age, which made me suspicious. Tricia speculated the car actually had 172,000 km, not 72,000, and concluded that the “1” didn’t register when the car hit the century mark. Who knew she was such an Encyclopedia Brown! So, at her urging, I prodded the salesman a couple of times about the mileage (or the kilometereage), when he finally said, “Perhaps an old woman owned it. Perhaps she drove it only to the store and back.” That seemed reasonable to me. It's a week later now, and I realize it’s the same line an American car salesman once used on me. I fell for it then, too.

Saturday

Having less stuff and less space did not mean that we moved any faster on the eve of a weekend camping trip. Like usual, we were on the road later than we hoped, the car was packed tighter than I anticipated, but once we were moving, it was like visiting a whole new country. People have wondered how far we are from the mountains, and it feels like, at least in this part of Japan, that it would be harder to get away from the mountains than it would be to get to them. They surround you. Minutes outside of Akita City we’re passing through forests and rice fields -- where the harvest was in full swing -- and heading up and into the mountains. The drive is slow and stunning. The first night we camped near Lake Tazawako, incidentally, described everywhere with gusto as “the deepest lake in Japan” – as though that were the real reason tourists flock there, to waste a weekend pondering the tremendous depths of Japan’s endlessly bottomless lake. “True, the camping is overpriced, the scenery horrid and the weather crappy – but check out this lake. Is it deep, or what?” When pressed (and this is true) people would actually add, “It’s also considered the most beautiful lake in Japan.” Not that you’d want to advertise that.

Getting to the lake is a 1 ½ hour trip that we turned into a 2+ hour adventure as we ended up driving in a complete circle around the lake (thank god its not the widest in Japan) before finally spotting the campground. Had we simply glanced over to our left when we pulled up to the lake, I suspect we would have spotted the campground straight away. Instead, we missed it completely, turning right not left and heading off down a road we didn’t need to go down, reaching the same spot we had left about a half hour later, realizing, “Oh, it’s right here.”

We camped near (although not among) the other English teachers. Tricia thought I was being overcautious, but I remember what it is like to be in my mid-twenties, unattached, drunk and stupid. I had images of someone puking in Jonas’ pack-and-play, crawling into the pack-and-play, and then curling up in a ball next to Jonas and falling asleep. I figured the further away we were, the less likely this could happen. So Jonas and I called it an early night and headed back to our tent after a group dinner, while Tricia partied it up with the rest of the kids.

I leave you with the best video of Jonas yet.

… more to come …