Where did you get that hat?

I had a small eureka moment this week when a very small earthquake gave one of my classes a little jiggle: I`m a responsible adult and have to take care of small Japanese children, including calmly ushering them under a table should the Great Kanto Earthquake repeat itself, as it has been due to for the past decade. They know far more about how to handle them than I do so I might take advantage of some of the earthquake training events that are taking place to mark the earthquake`s anniversary. They have them every September and October, and you can go in an earthquake simulator.

This ludicrous chancer has volunteered to language exchange with me. His pose annahilates any doubts about language exchange being a euphimism for blind dating. I had applied to around 10 exchanges in a panic when my Japanese classes closed for summer, and he is one of the five (men only) replies I received. I`ve met one of them a couple of times and he seems to give a passable attempt at language exchange, the first time I managed to ask why the Beatles are bigger here than in Britai, but he couldn`t answer in either language. There`s still a sniff of unwelcome potential romance; Friday night he insisted on paying for dinner (not exactly a problem, but a strong hint of a date in a country where men are very accustomed to paying for female company) and we generally spoke in English because I was too tired to bother. He has also mentioned a girlfriend, but fidelity is literally an alien concept here. Itsuma, who gives his job as `guard man` looks like quite a playa and probably has three girlfriends already, and could be fishing for a fourth. He was after a photo of me from the off, but maybe he just wanted to show off his hat.

Last night Jerry and I discussed horse-riding over some very good yakitori. We had to traipse around a bit to find somewhere to eat as everywhere was booked for wedding parties, but I think it was for the best. The place we went to was great. We`re off to the mountains for a trail lesson at the end of the month. Horse-riding is an even more expensive pursuit in Japan than it is in Britain as you have to join clubs and then pay a nominal fee for each ride. The joining fee can be anything from ¥10,000 up, though this wouldn`t be out of the question. Clubs in Tokyo proper charge far, far more. We then headed to the George as I wanted a bit of impartial employment advice, but neither of us can remember getting home. I just got an email from Jerry asking `how did I get to my home`. I had been hoping to ask him the same question. I guess we both fell out of the same taxi, but what happened before we got into it is anyone`s guess.

Today I had an extremely tiring session at Cafe Lamp. Why these people come to `conversation time` with no intention of speaking, I don`t know. I was too tired to think of a topic, so turned the tables on the students and asked them to come up with some questions. This went quite well, and very interestingly, on the more advanced table, with one wacky boy asking why it is only in Britain that we have the insult `sheepshagger` and who also asked another student his opinion of necrophilia, but the beginner`s table was stumped and too shy to venture anything. I tried a new angle, by asking why they wanted to learn English, but in spite of claiming to want to use it to make friends, none of them dared ask another a question, until a `maverick` from Osaka asked the table if they had attended any horse-races and finally they warmed up and got going.

Afterwards, there was the usual faffing over lunch arrangements, before we headed off for Thai and Lisa came to meet us. I was so pleased as she got to see Graeme the JET Kaori has been stalking for the past year. I had warned Lisa before that he was a bit ridiculous and she spotted it immediately. The Japanese just think he`s cool, but he clearly isn`t. This is him with me and Aki last November. He has since let the bleach grow out and only spikes his hair on special occasions, but his general demeanour is much the same. Ultimately, he`s a decent, well brought-up boy, but seems ashamed of this and retardedly desperate to shock (as is Aki, much to her mother`s despair).

Lisa and I finally managed to shake Graeme off (being a JET he gets less time with other gaijin than us and bursts with English when he has a chance to speak at his usual pace) and did a lot of very depressing window shopping. I couldn`t resist a brooch from the second-hand shop of my friend in the Pepsi Cola dress from the George`s mod night. I still don`t know her name, but hopefully we`re going to a mod night in Tokyo together next month. Lisa and mooched around, tried checking out boys using Loft`s music studio, stalked my hairdresser a little bit, looked in shops we couldn`t afford and tried on glasses.

It was lovely. So, so easy. No slowing my speech or downgrading my diction, no need to explain reference points or politely deny my dislikes. I hadn`t realised how much hard work it can be spending time without real friends. She`s someone I would most definitely get on with back home (suddenly the world`s biggest compliment), but I like her all the more here as she is such a rarity here. Most gaijin here are men, and most of those are losers, and I don`t enjoy spending time with them so much. It`s not because I feel I am better than them (I`m a bit of a geek myself, though some here do epitomise the term `loser`), but they do have a tiresome perspective on life and an essence of bitterness that no number of up-dated Japanese shags can quite extinguish.

The girls are generally Australian or Canadian, and brilliant fun, but they don`t provide a full friendship service. Partying is an ever-ready attribute, you dance and drink until the sun comes up and they will never tire, but if you want a quiet chat about something boring and sensible, don`t go to an Australian. Canadians bridge the gap between Britain and Australia, so are generally better (some openly admit to studying Japanese), but most Australians think it is soft to show any signs of intellectuality or to think and not do. This is why sport is such a national treasure there. I was told off recently by Mike for referring to them as half-people, but congratulated by Roisin for the same thing, which is worth a little more in my eyes. Kate, as I have said before, is a lovely (and still sport-loving) exception. Having had almost a year`s drought of mindless girl`s chat out here (aside from the occasional oasis from Rachel breezing in from Osaka), talking nothingy rubbish with Lisa today was so utterly normal and enjoyable.

After loafing around we headed towards the station to find this trio busking with considerably more style than you could expect in Leicester Square tube. They had brought their own generator, mics and amps, but had to mill around and blend into the crowd as the police ran over to move them on. The started packing up slowly, let the police get back to the koban and started up again, their groupies blowing bubbles at them as they sang. The were very boy-bandy and I could feel the air palpitating with teenage hormones as the girls swooned along with them. The guy in the middle could easily have gone solo, but his nerves gave him worse shakes than Parkinsons.

I`ve just finished watching the first X-Men movie on TV, which was immediately followed by a programme about a very small Chinese girl with a home-cut pudding basin haircut. At the moment, she is eating chicken from the whole leg, the claw scratchingly close to her face as she tucked into the anaemic-skinned boiled thigh. I think I might have nightmares tonight.

For all my unexpected enthusiasm for Japanese boys, my heart belongs to a Banksy.
http://news.independent.co.uk/uk/this_britain/article1325440.ece