I'm sure that by now, everyone but our good friends and family have assumed that Bonnie and I have fallen off the planet, or at least been seriously maimed in the last major earthquake. Fortunately, neither is true, but our lives have been seriously busy, even more than usual in the past few months.

First of all, to all our friends and family who we had a chance to meet on our brief trip/visit to Canada, thanks for the good time! It's hard to say when we'll be back but if Bonnie gets her way, it'll be a bit sooner than two years from now. Otherwise, we will be heading to Europe this summer so Bonnie can meet my grandmothers and other relatives, as well as see what the Czech Republic is really like. We will be stopping over in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia for a few days and then continuing on after that. It promises to be another whirlwind tour just like Canada was, but maybe a little more relaxing given that we don't have quite so many people to meet with while we're there. Most of our time will likely be spent sightseeing and touring.

Well, now for the scoop since my January Blog entry. March was the end of the Japanese school year, so our trip Canada was conveniently arranged for the 10 days between the old and new school terms -- one of the more expensive times to travel to/from Japan just for that reason. One of the main reasons for our trip was to liquidate all the items in our mini-storage unit in Edmonton that was costing us about $140 a month. We figured that for the amount we've already paid, plus the amount we would be bound to pay in the future would at least amount to the value of our stuff.... At least all the replaceable items, anyway. So, After a brief stopover visit in Abbottsford, B.C. to visit some of Bonnie's family, we made our way to Edmonton, rented a big, white cargo van and got started on sorting through boxes, donating many items to charity, and bringing most of our furniture to auction. Certain things were taken to Bonnie's parents' farm, along with a bunch of boxes containing stuff we weren't quite ready to part with, and perhaps never will. A lot of it was photography-related, books, sentimental stuff and other assorted things. Despite the rush, we were both glad to meet up with as many of our friends and family as we could, do so some shopping for things that are unobtainable or at least difficult to get in Japan, and enjoy some of the food and go to the restaurants we miss over here.

It's nearly impossible to compile our entire trip into a paragraph or two, but that was pretty much the gist of it all. On our next trip we expect to have a lot more time to visit with people and catch up on lost time.

After we returned to Japan, the next challenge was work-related. Bonnie had to adjust to a new work schedule, and I had to re-interview for my job -- a position which technically I never should have gotten in the first place, as it's normally given to people from Des Moines, Iowa as part of a sister-city exchange program that happens every year. On the other hand, if it weren't for the occasional non-Iowan, the program would be hard-up finding all the teachers they require to fill the city's teaching positions. As I'm on good terms with pretty much all my co-workers, principals, and school board administrators, I think everything should turn out well even though I haven't received official word of my status just yet.

Since the beginning of the new school year, I've taken another trip to Kyoto. This time, it was more of a business trip than anything. Every year, 9th grade junior-high school students across Japan take a "school trip" that lasts about three days. Kyoto is one of the most popular destinations. I decided to try to get myself included in the trip, as it would be a refreshing break from teaching regular classes, while allowing me a chance to develop a closer relationship with some of my students. It was a fine trip, and I will only point out some of the notable oddities that made it unique.

First of all, let me say that this was my first time to ride the Shinkansen, or Japanese bullet train. It's definitely an interesting experience to be moving across land at speeds exceeding 300km/h. Usually traveling that fast is associated with being in an airplane. Yes, it's expensive.... But if you come to Japan, it's worthwhile to try out, and it certainly gets you from A to B pretty darned quickly.

When we arrived in Kyoto, our first destination was actually the town of Nara. Nara, like Kyoto, used to be Japan's capital city at one point in history -- it's actually even more ancient than Kyoto. It's famous for it's temple that houses the largest Buddha sculpture in Japan... It's absolutely massive! To illustrate it's sheer size, there is a wooden pillar with a hole running through it standing in the temple. The hole is the same size as Buddha's nostril. It's large enough for many of my junior-high school students to crawl through the hole and emerge from the other end quite nicely. They say it's good luck to do so... I'm sure I would get stuck, though. In fact, there is a bit of a love affair with the giant Buddha’s nose.

It's Japanese custom to memorialize events like trips with tons of photographs, and buying sweets and other souvenirs as gifts for friends, co-workers, family and even themselves. In recent years, a local such snack "okashi" has become popular. It's called: "Daibutsu no hanakuso." It means: "The Great Buddha's Booger." That's right. For about $5 USD you can buy a plastic bag, containing a gritty, grainy, brownish ball about the size of a large apple, claiming to be a booger from the Buddha's giant nose! Some have criticized the company who makes the snack, saying it's irreverent and inappropriate. Indeed! Can you imagine the outcry if someone were to start selling Jesus's toenail clippings or perhaps Muhammad's ear wax? Yikes! In any event, irrevernce aside, I thought it was pretty funny so, not being a devout Buddhist, I bought a few of them to show my friends and for Bonnie to taste-test... No reports yet on how they were. Interestingly enough, Nara is also known for herds and herds of deer to roam the temple grounds. Visitors are encouraged to buy special "sembe" or rice-crackers to feed the deer who will happily eat from your hand. They start to get a little rude when you are down to your last cracker, and are being mobbed by about six hungry deer... I was content to merely watch while my students fed the herd... In fact, I irresponsibly dared one of the students to try and "ride" one of the deer, as both he and the deer were about the right size to try it... After much heckling and urging on from his friends, he finally mounted the deer, grabbed his antlers, while the deer just stood there idly, not caring in the least what was happening to him, all in the mean time, scanning the crowd of people for more "sembe" crackers. This influx of deer, of course, has resulted in massive quantities of deer droppings just about everywhere but inside the temples themselves, into which the deer, presumably, are not allowed to enter. A Buddhist fellow explained to me that for them, deer were sacred animals, but the smell and prevalence of deer droppings was most unholy. Nevertheless, that hasn't dissuaded local manufacturers from producing another popular "okashi" or candy: "shika no fun" or deer turds. As you might expect, small bags of chocolate-covered nuts are the commodity in question, and the packaging involves cartoon-drawn deer with embarrassed expressions on their faces. If you can get beyond what you're "supposed to be" eating, they're really quite tasty...

Modern Japanese school trips are quite unlike anything I've ever heard of in North America. Arriving at the hotel that evening, another teacher asked me where I was planning on going the next day. I responded that I would go wherever the school was going to go. He looked a bit confused, but explained to me that the students would be going to a number of different spots, in different parts of the city. As such, I was free to roam around and do my own thing. Still not understanding fully, I solicited the explanatory aid of one of the Japanese-English teachers on the trip, who clarified for me that students were split up into about 30 groups or so, and each small group had made their own itinerary and would be scattered throughout Kyoto all day... getting around from place to place by taxi, of which the school had reserved an entire fleet! The teachers would be posted at several key "checkpoints," watching for students and providing assistance and supervision if/when necessary. So, I chose a number of locations where my students were visiting throughout the day, and following the lead of the Japanese teachers, looking out for our students, saying hello to them occasionally, and making sure they weren't goofing off too much, all while enjoying the sights and attractions Kyoto had to offer. It was all very interesting, and I discovered, much to my pleasant surprise, that as a schoolteacher in a Japanese school, I merely had to show a bit of ID to indicate that I was indeed a junior-high school teacher from Kofu accompanying students on a school trip, and all admission fees were waived! It's rare to have such a wonderful privilege as exploring Kyoto's most famous ancient landmarks free-of-charge. I guess that's the reimbursement we get for putting up with 140 screaming 15-year olds for three days.

Not two weeks after that, Bonnie and I had a chance to visit the World Expo in Nagoya, Aichi Prefecture. For many Canadians of our generation, Expo '86 in Vancouver was where we would have last caught this event. For generations before us, I believe Montreal hosted one sometime in the '60s. The theme of the expo was one of "nature" or co-existing with nature, which implied many ecological and environmental topics. Though many countries tried to comply with this, at least half of them set up a pavilion that represented their country alone and little more, while completely ignoring the theme, or paying it lip service at best. As far as the theme itself is concerned, however, I was deeply disappointed. There was nothing natural about it. The government had to destroy and cut down hectares of pristine forest to build the expo site. Then, when it was all paved over and wrought with ATMs, restaurants, glass-and-steel buildings, they re-created an artificial, high-tech nature, providing grass rooftops on otherwise 21st century architectural marvels, scattering hydroponically grown plants and flowers, and placing trees atop scaffolding.

Nevertheless, the overall experience proved quite enjoyable, and given the chance, Bonnie and I will try to visit again in September, before the expo closes down. All the different pavilions are fun to peruse through, and the different countries provide for a diverse cultural experience. The Canadians have provided genuine "mounties" in their trademark red uniforms, and a team of "genuine Canadians" for Japanese visitors to talk to and interview about their everyday lives. The Cubans have an "authentic" Cuban bar set up where you can take a break from the heat and sip on some 'mojitos' or maybe a 'Cuba Libre.' Then, after getting inspired by a photo gallery of Ernest Hemmingway, you can browse their small, but nicely stocked humidor. They have famous brands like "Romeo & Juliettas" or "Cohibas," made popular by American 'gonzo' journalist Hunter S. Thompson. If cigars aren't your thing, you can sit and watch a short movie presentation about the country. I had the chance to speak to a young, Cuban tour guide both in Spanish, then in French when I found out he studied at Laval University in Montreal. Cubans are really lovely people. Some day I know I'll visit.

Bonnie found interest in the Yemen pavilion. We were purposely seeking out interesting countries where we didn't have to wait for hours to gain admission, and this was definitely one of them. The Yemenites had set up a genuine bazaar or market, selling hand-made jewelry, cloths, coffee, spices and other traditional items. It was fully expected you would haggle with the shopkeepers, and most Japanese, despite their nature of not engaging in "bargaining" seemed to be getting a pretty good hang of it. Those boys are sharp though. You are unlikely to escape without having purchased something, especially if you allow one of them to place a trinket into your hand to examine. Within five minutes of entering, it went something like this:

A shopkeeper (placing a garnet necklace into Bonnie's hand): Beautiful. It is beautiful on you. Genuine garnet stone. High quality.

Bonnie: Very nice. I like it.

Shopkeeper: I give you good price. Best price only for you. Special expo deal only.

Bonnie: Thank you. That's very nice.

Atley (cynically): Ok... How much?

Shopkeeper: Only 2,500 yen.

Atley (taking the necklace and handing it back to the shopkeeper): Nooooooo.... Thank you. That's too expensive.

Shopkeeper (not giving the least indication that he might take the necklace back): No problem. What you give me?

Atley: The price I will give you is too low... You won't like what I have to say.

Shopkeeper (unwavering): No. What you give me? If too low, I say no and we still be friends.

Bonnie (to Atley): Offer him 1,000. He won't go for that....

Atley (to shopkeeper): Ok. fine. 1,000 yen..... (Extending arm to give the necklace back).

Shopkeeper (hesitating and grimacing): Mmmmmm... mmmmm... Okay. You have deal.

Bonnie: (unintelligible muttering).

Atley (to a grinning Bonnie, while handing money to a grinning shopkeeper): Well, there you go, Ms. "Offer him 1,000 - it's too low." Now you've committed. Next time, don't let him put anything into your hand or we're not going to walk out of here with two yen left to rub together.

It turned out to be an interesting shopping trip as a result.... The Czech pavilion was my favorite. Upon walking in, It looks like someone was on some serious hallucinogenic drugs when they came up with the concept for the pavilion. After a while, I began to understand what was going on... For those who "get it" it's an absolutely amazing pavilion.... Really, quite brilliant! It took me about 15 minutes to "get it" but some visitors, obviously never did, as they came and left within two minutes, shaking their heads and muttering in confusion something about "crazy Czechs" and having absoultely nothing to do with the country.

When you entered the pavilion, you walked through a curvy, twisty, white, round tunnel-like entrance, much like a cross between round door to a hobbit hole from Tolkienian folklore and an airlock from some Cold-War era Soviet space station design. When you reach the inside, you are greeted by a large chamber, with all sorts of Dali-esque surreal things going on all around you. There are strange images being projected on walls, there is an old grand piano standing in a pool of water with its cover removed and strings exposed, steel pipes, hanging wooden planks, all placed upon oversized "steps" which lead up to the top of the pavilion. The shape of the room is reminiscent of a theatre house, with the pool containing the piano in the area where an orchestra or choir would normally be on a stage, and all the other items scattered about in the areas where an audience would normally sit to listen to a concert.

It took me a little while to understand. The entire point of the pavilion was to illustrate the theme of the expo. Everything in the "amphitheatre" was in some way connected to nature. It was either "made" from natural materials, or used "nature" in some way to achieve a visual or sound effect. The visitors to the pavilion played the part of the actors and musicians as well as the audience and would operate the musical instruments and visual effects devices, many of which looked like Rube Goldberg machines from some alternate reality. The resulting cacophony was not at all unpleasant, but reminiscent of a clockwork with all sorts of clicking, humming, chiming, whirling, and tapping going on as people were allowed to "play" with virtually everything in the room. It was very much a "hands-on" experience that seemed to appeal to the children especially, but even any adult with a playful streak.

After exiting the "theatre" there was a small shop selling genuine Czech crystal and jewelry. Next door to this was a "genuine" Czech cafe or pub (hybrid) that offered imported Czech beer on tap (Praha Krusovice) and typical Czech dishes, served by typical, apathetic and slightly rude Czech waiters brought in just for the expo. I certainly felt very much at-home yelling, "Pane vrchni. Dva krat pivo, prosim." (Waiter... Two beers please.)... Then waiting for the fellow to take his sweet time bringing the beer, not surprised in the slightest having some Czech guy talking to him in his own language in the heart of Japan... The attitude and ambience were so well done, we could have been sitting in any pub or cafe in Prague. We indulged in both food and drink, and I was so happy I could burst! It had been a long time since I had genuine Czech beer on tap, along with good, authentic Czech food. What made it absolutely amazing was the fact that they had brought in a team of professional celebrity chefs from daily Czech TV cooking shows. The food may have been traditional pub fare in Europe, but the presentation and taste were truly world-class. I spoke to one of the chefs who seemed genuinely tickled that we enjoyed the food so much, and I think a little relieved as well, to speak in Czech with someone who was completely oblivious to his celebrity status and wasn't asking him to sign his autograph on his latest cookbook.

More about expo in a future Blog... For now, I will try to get the photos developed. I do encourage anyone who has the financial means and time away from work to visit expo. Even if it isn't this one in Japan, I think it's one of those things that should be experienced at least once in a lifetime...

The next major event currently occurring in our lives is moving! Yes, after two years living in the same apartment, it looks like it's time to pack up and move into another place in Kofu.

"For the love of all that's good.. WHY?!?!"

Well, things in Japan (especially whatever is related to renting accommodations) are very different than in North America. In an earlier Blog (or in my coming-to-Japan notes on my website, I forgot which), I may have mentioned the procedure involved in finding and moving into a Japanese apartment or rental accommodation. For the sake of those who have no idea what I'm talking about, I will digress briefly to provide a primer to this mysterious, and frequently frustrating topic...

First of all, it should be understood that Japan is one of the few countries in the world where buying a house is just as much of an investment opportunity as buying a car: they both depreciate. Yes, that is correct, folks. If you build a house, mortgage it and try to sell it in 10 to 25 years, there is no way you will ever get the amount you purchased it for! As strange as this may sound, it is largely due to the Japanese disdain for anything "old" or "used." Sure, the price of the land may increase (though it is definitely offset by the depreciating house that sits on it) but when/if it's finally time to get rid of real estate, it's much more common to "renovate" the house. In Japan, "renovation" really means bulldozing the old structure and erecting a brand new one. Last year, one of our neighbours "renovated" their house this way. The other options are either to pass it down to the children and keep the property in the family, or abandon the house and move elsewhere. The last option is also very common. The country seems to be virtually littered with houses and small apartments of all sizes and shapes that have fallen into disrepair, but no one wishes to fix (remember, it's still an "old" house -- even if you redo the interior and exterior) so no one will wish to move there, or the money involved in demolishing the old structure is more than paying property taxes on it.

Such paradoxes make house (or apartment) hunting frustrating but on many occasions work out in the favour of the tenant. One common method of finding a new place to live is to simply walk (or drive) through neighbourhoods where you would like to live and look for houses that look either vacant or abandoned. This is so common, you will easily end up with several prospects in a matter of hours. Next, ask the neighbours or local grandparents you see wandering about if they know who lives in the house in question, and if nobody, who the landlord/owner is. The Japanese word for "landlord" is 'oyasan.' In an ideal situation you may walk away with a name and phone number of the oyasan whom you can then phone and ask if they would consider renting the house to you. If they are open-minded enough to not mind renting a place to "gaikokujin" (foreigners) there is a pretty good chance that you will walk off with a much nicer deal than the other option, which is to hire a realtor.

In Japan, real estate agencies are very different from North American ones. We are used to having realtors only deal with selling/buying residential properties, whereas the bulk of the Japanese market lies in renting -- something that is usually restricted to commercial space in North America. 90% of the time, unless you have the time/patience/language skills/bargain-hunting motivation to find your own place (there are no "for rent" ads in the local newspapers -- at least none that I can understand) you will have to approach a real estate agency (Japanese: "furosan") to help you find accommodations.

In North America, costs involved in hiring a real estate agent (commission) are usually the responsibility of the seller, not the buyer. In Japan, the opposite is true. When you rent any given place, it is customary to pay the equivalent of one month's rent to the realtor in commission fees.

Then, like in North America, you are expected to pay a security deposit (also called a damage deposit in some areas) to the landlord. In Japanese, the word is "shikikin." Where I'm from, (by law) the maximum amount for a damage deposit is no more than one month's rent. In Japan, there is no such requirement, hence the average deposit amount is two month's rent, although deviation from the norm in either direction is certainly possible. Then, another strange little cultural anomaly is something called, "reikin" in Japanese. Literally translated, it means "reward money" or "deep thank-you money," but most commonly translated into English as "key money." This is essentially a bribe you pay to the landlord to "thank him/her" for their generosity in renting you their building. This is also usually one month's rent but again, deviations from this are possible (though not usual). If anything, key money is slowly falling by the wayside as nowadays Japan is a tenant's market and there are much more vacant spaces than people to fill them so more and more landlords are discovering that they can attract prospective renters much quicker by omitting this "thank you fee" even though it's money for nothing -- money you will never see again. The history of reikin as it was explained to me, stems back from the era immediately following the second world war, when housing was scarce, and this shortage resulted in the Japanese custom of offering "gifts" in exchange for favours becoming a national institution that has stuck around until now. I mean, let's face it, why would a landlord say "no" to free money for doing absolutely nothing?

So, have you been keeping a running total in your head? If not, let me summarize it for you. That was: 1 month's rent for the realtor's commission, two month's damage deposit, one month's key money, and don't forget the first month's rent when you move in. All of this equals about 5 month's rent just to get into a place. Now, there are some other odds and ends that must be taken care of. If you want cable TV, you will likely have to pay an additional 3,000 yen a month -- and this may not be an optional charge if your apartment is listed as having "CATV included." Then, if you are moving into a house (rather than an apartment) there's a good chance you may have to pay community association fees of about 2,000 yen. This is not unlike condominium fees back home. They also serve similar functions as well. Then, unless it's a house, you will likely pay parking fees if you own a vehicle. 5,000 yen is a standard sum.
So let's summarize. Startup costs: 5 month's rent, plus an additional 5-10,000 yen per month for other expenses. Let's assume you are considering an apartment that's about 50,000 yen per month for rent. (In Canadian dollars, that's about $568) . This, by the way is on the low end of the rent spectrum. (In larger cities like Osaka or Tokyo, add at least 20 or 30,000 more). Add an additional 5,000 yen for cable TV/community fees or parking, making it about 55,000. Multiply that by 5, and the grand total is.......(drum roll please)..... 275,000 yen ($3125 CDN)! That's no small change! We were lucky that when we arrived, the company that hired us worked out all the paperwork with our realtor and lent us the money to get the apartment, which we repaid to our employer on a monthly installment basis over six months. So, why are we moving? Let me explain.

The usual contract term for renting a place in Japan is two years. After two years you are expected to either re-contract for another two-year term, or vacate the premises. The former is much more common than the latter for obvious reasons, as finding a new location would require paying all the aforementioned fees all over again... Fortunately, many people (especially foreigners) have gotten wise to this and as uncustomary as the concept of "bargaining" is to most Japanese, it seems to be prevalent in the real estate industry. You can easily haggle back and forth for quite some time with the landlord, with the realtor as the middle-man, as to whether you can get the place you want for a discounted monthly rental rate or a reduction in key money or deposit fees. When we were first shown our apartment, the landlord wanted 67,000 yen for rent. Our manager (from work) offered 50,000 a month, which was accepted after brief deliberation. Better to accept 17,000 yen a month less than to risk not receiving ANY income for potentially a very long time. It's a renter's market, remember?

Well, our re-contracting time came and went. It actually was back in the beginning of March, but we were not informed of anything until the second week of May. We received a letter from our realtor, explaining that we would be required to pay 67,000 to re-contract for another two years. This fee, apparently, covers the cost of property taxes and whatnot for the landlord. Needless to say, we were less than impressed as we didn't know this before. If we had, we would have been saving up for this fee. On the bright side, we could have ended up paying a lot more, as in many places it's also common to pay another round of reikin (key money) for the new two-year term. Nevertheless, I would not have been so reluctant to dish out the cash if it hadn't been for our miserable neighbours making our stay a lot more troublesome. To summarize quickly, we've got a next-door neighbour with a dog (in a no-pets-allowed building) that craps all over the walkway to our apartment because they tend to keep their front door open quite often, which lets the dog out. The stupid mutt also barks for hours on end, even with our neighbours being at home. It just isn't a priority to them to get their dog to stop barking. Also, these people have kept a junk-heap next to their apartment door for the past two years. We're talking bags of empty cans for recycling, gasoline canisters, tools, garbage, flower pots, boxes, and assorted junk just piled up in a large, nasty heap. All our complaints to them and the landlord have gone completely unheeded. The only complaint that the landlord ever listened to from us was to stop the neighbours from parking a huge construction-area dump truck in front of the apartment, not only causing a eyesore, but narrowing an already ridiculously narrow street. Downstairs, we have some crying colicky babies and the older ones play basketball in the house: thump-a-thump-a-thump-a.... at all hours. Since many Japanese people get up very early, by six a.m. (which is even early for me -- I get up at seven) I've got washing machines running, doors slamming, TVs blaring, people shouting, dogs barking, cats in heat yowling, babies crying, people beating out their futons on the balcony railing, trains rumbling though, truck back-up beepers beeping, delivery truck arriving all while I'm trying to catch that last hour of sleep before waking up. On the weekends it gets more interesting. Then, in addition to all of the above, I've got trucks with loudspeakers selling stuff door-to-door playing marching music, firecrackers going off (to mark off the hour -- every hour) and kids playing outside, since they don't have to go to school.

Anyway, I've digressed. My point was, that I really did not feel like I was getting my 67,000 yen's worth paying for all of these crazy little annoyances that seem to have added up over the past two years. I explained this to my realtor, in the hopes of arriving at some sort of understanding to either action some of the things that could be dealt with, such as the dog crapping and barking issue, or offering some kind of discount on the re-contracting fee. A friend told us that his friend had been presented with a re-contracting fee, to which this fellow just said, "in that case, I'm just going to move out." The realtor very quickly dropped the issue and said, not to worry about it -- they would rather have him stay than leave. I guess results in this regard may vary. I've been also told by others that re-contracting fees should not be so high -- frequently they are only about 1/2 a month's rent or so.

When I mentioned some of this to my realtor in Japanese, (through an exceedingly polite Japanese lady friend of ours) , the realtor told us that we should still pay half of the re-contracting fee if we decided to move out. Until this time, though, the boss of the realty hadn't been present for the earlier conversation so when he walked in he didn't quite know exactly what was going on -- but he did have SOME idea, as when he entered the room and saw me sitting there with my Japanese translator, he muttered to himself in Japanese that was still audible enough for us to catch, "Aww, man... Must be those bloody neighbours again...." Anyway, when he was caught up to speed on the full situation, he pointed out that they had sent me a re-contracting letter back in February, which I can authoritatively deny having received. At this point I went into "irate foreigner" mode and just about lost my nuggets and started screaming. I exhibited some restraint, but not enough to stop me from raising my voice, glaring and starting to speak angrily in English - very, very quickly. I demanded to know why nobody had contacted me IF indeed they had sent a letter to me back in February and I hadn't replied. I said that in any normal country that was running any normal business would follow up if they hadn't herd back for three months. I told him very directly that I was calling his bluff, and that the only letter I had ever received was the one from last week, and he could rest assured that if I had gotten his earlier letter, I would have been in his office complaining long before this. All of this was dramatically enacted for him in a mix of my angry, bad Japanese, mixed in with my translator's good Japanese, and me telling my translator to try and use "more rude" language in expressing my ideas, instead of the usual, hyper-polite keigo (honorific Japanese). The boss of the firm, obviously intimidated, just put on the biggest, cat-swallowed-a-canary grin he could muster, and kept saying not to worry, that we would work something out and that he would "take my situation under consideration." When we returned a few days later to give formal notice of moving out, the situation was all but resolved. It seems that my "suggestion" of merely paying a pro-rated amount of the re-contracting fee, representative of how many months beyond March was reasonable enough by their reckoning and would be "sufficient." We also asked when we should move out by, and the realtor said that if we gave a month's notice, everything would be alright. So, we notified them that June would be our last month and that we'd be moving out by the end of it.

Well, that makes our June a ridiculously busy month! Fortunately we don't have a lot of furniture and heavy items... The move will be within the city so actual "packing into boxes" will be minimal. I'd say most things will just get loaded into our van, and unloaded at our destination which is still in the works.

Alright, that's it for now. As usual, please send an e-mail or something. We're happy to hear from you all. I will try to post some more pictures as soon as I can -- especially from my most recent Kyoto trip. By the way, as you may have already guessed, my photos did not win the photo competition, despite having successfully passed through the first two stages of screening. I will decide by the end of summer whether or not I will enter again next year.

Ok… And last time I thought five pages was long. This Blog entry weighs in at 13. Whoa! Well, props to you if you read it all…. See you next time!