some surprises

It's been a week of surprises. The precious good times of having seen an old friend in a new city sat in contrast this week with some new insight into a life of regularity and responsibility  and the frustrations of delayed satisfaction when money and time are tight.

Visiting Osaka with Vanessa and Jon was a hell of a time. Osaka is an old god that slides at a snail's pace next to Nagoya's new bustle. Things are older, brighter there. The food might be better too but I'm not ready to concede that one just yet.  Vanessa and I found a hostel by the red-light district, about a kilometer away from city centre, in a closed-air market area. We left our bags by the unmade futons and  headed toward Minami, the place to go when you're only in Osaka for a short time. The trip became a casual meeting with the city: A beer in the park where teenage worshipers of American culture smoked cigarettes and ate takoyaki; walks into and out of shopping districts, packed; following our noses for street food and new foods whenever the concentrations of smells became too much to handle. At night we visited the red light district. A small square block of suburban space, with little two floor two-room traditional houses more like storage lockers than anything. The large door making up the front wall of these houses was lifted in every one revealing a sad erotic still-life: a single girl in ill-fitted geisha-wear or some other sillier costume, and an old grandmother, her pimp, calling at shoppers. Some rooms had a pair of businessman's shoes at the front, while the grandmother waited patiently for her girl.

not my photo. but a view of the district by day.

We ended our night walking into a bar big enough for maybe 6 or 7. The closed-air shopping areas are dead by 11 save for the bars, each more or less the same and every one with a cheap karaoke machine which gets passed around the bar. In ours,  there was the owner, the two girls bartending and a businessman who was swaying drunkenly. We were given looks by all as we walked in, but were probably deemed harmless and left to hang out for a few Asahi's.

The next morning we resolved to do something touristy and visited the Osaka Aquarium, which claims to be one of the biggest and houses a Whale Shark and a giant manta, amongst many other things I've never seen unnarrated by David Attenborough. All of it was very cool. The sea turtles particularly impressed Vanessa, while Jon claimed the best thing he saw that day was the little tank of mudpuppies.

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The rest of the week has been less exciting but still satisfying. Vanessa and I finished out first full week of work and continue to get a sense of our environment, and by extension, a community. We've found a few great bars and restaurants where people are either patient or outwardly kind to us. Last night the cook came to introduce himself to us. His english was fine but he said his Spanish was better as he'd lived throughout South America for year, importing fish and cooking them. He gave me his business card and e-mail address. We ate mackerel sashimi and chicken wings.

Yesterday we visited Osu-Kannon temple. The biggest in the area, I think, and a truly impressive place. The outside was teeming with pedestrians, and the colours of the beautiful day mixed nicely with the reds and blacks of the imposing temple. Inside was the opposite: dark and austere, chants looped on a loudspeaker. People lined up in front of a long rope, which when swung would hit a muted bell on the high ceiling and assure the prayer's successful transmission to wherever. The incense was thick in the air. Vanessa was quite moved.

Give a listen:

As for the grind, money is tight as hell and work is slow. Our first proper paycheque will be in April but many of my classes end up cancelled for lack of students, which affects my wallet at the end of the month. One teacher is leaving in April: he's sure the company will go under a second time and doesn't want to be here when it does.

It's a lesson in frugality and patience: tolerating the bed we've made for ourselves in coming here. No regrets yet.