I wrote a big, long update the other day, only to delete it by accident b/c my browser is all in Japanese. Huge updates are exhausting to read and even more exhausting to type anyways. The more you write, the more risk there is to delete it by accident because all the buttons on Blogger are in kanji. So maybe it's better to start with the small things, then work my way up.

I've decided to talk about my bicycle. I remember I paid $100 for it way back in July, and it was a hassle actually getting my hands on it, but it's worth every penny. A mountain bike, 21 gears (although I don't even know what that really means), an insanely uncomfortable seat that's meant only for people who lack bones in their butt, and a basket in the back. Ah, the basket. Quite possibly my favorite thing about it. Unfortunately, since mine is a boy's bike (meaning it has a horizontal bar running from the seat to the handlebars), it means that I have to go through extra trouble to dismount by swinging my leg over the front, coasting side-saddle for a moment, and then hopping off without completely losing balance. It's fabulous.

I've also made myself a nuisance to a nearby bike shop. Well, I don't really know if they think I'm a nuisance, but if I was an old Japanese man and a retarded girl came by and tried to talk to me in English, I'd be annoyed. The first time I went there, I wanted to register my bike (you actually do this with the police, but I didn't know). I also didn't know how to say "register" in Japanese, so after ten minutes of confusion with this old dude and his wife, they just told me I had to go to the police. They were probably convinced that I stole the bike and wanted to take the name sticker off of it to erase my trail.

In my Japanese: "This (points to sticker) Mariko! I not Mariko. I Tammy. Mariko from, bicycle I bought. Yes. Yes. I do not understand."

The Japanese have no written rules about riding bikes, or at least none that I've seen anyone follow. No one locks their bikes; if they do it's not actually locked to anything. People will carry umbrellas, eat an ice cream cone, and even send texts on their mobile phone while peddling away on a mami chari (ie. cheap, WW2 era scrap of metal and rubber). If you ride on the street, no matter which side it is, cars might as well pretend you're not there. If you ride on the sidewalk, there's no official side to pass people on. If you're walking and someone on a bike is behind you, they will creep up without a word, and would rather trail behind you at a snail's pace than work their way around or say something.

Sometimes if you encounter another bike going towards you, you kind of have to waver to the right or the left and get a feel of which direction that person feels like going. It's like if you're about to walk into someone on the sidewalk, only you're going much faster and are prone to fall over on your side. Unfortunately, that wavering results in a lot of near misses, slamming on the brakes, or in the worst case, crashing into the other bike, which is what happened to me yesterday. The guy didn't even stop! I tend to shut my eyes in the face of peril, so I didn't see his reaction upon impact. By the time I "emergency dismounted" and was hopping on one leg, the victim of a bike-tire-knee-sandwich, he was already halfway down the block. He said "Gomennasai!" over his shoulder, but I'd say his face showed only slight worry. I was wincing a lot at the time, so I could be wrong.

There's also bugs that will hit you. Gigantic Japanese bugs, the kind which answer any questions of how this country came up with Mothra and Godzilla. I've already been hit twice by massive cicadas, once on the arm, and once squarely on my left cheek.