Nagoya, Japan.

Lafcadio Hearn wrote this in his book Glimpses of an Unfamiliar Japan in 1894, and it still rings true:

"Do not fail to write down your first impressions as soon as possible," said a kind English professor whom I had the pleasure of meeting soon after my arrival in Japan: "they are evanescent, you know; they will never come to you again, once they have faded out; and yet of all the strange sensations you may receive in this country you will feel none so charming as these." I am trying now to reproduce them from the hasty notes of the time, and find that they were even more fugitive than charming; something has evaporated from all my recollections of them--something impossible to recall. I neglected the friendly advice, in spite of all resolves to obey it: I could not, in those first weeks, resign myself to remain indoors and write, while there was yet so much to see and hear and feel in the sun-steeped ways of the wonderful Japanese city. Still, even could I revive all the lost sensations of those first experiences, I doubt if I could express and fix them in words. The first charm of Japan is intangible and volatile as a perfume.

It is so hard to commit oneself to writing, but I had a message this morning from a total stranger who read my blog, and asked if I was still alive. So, thank you, stranger, for spurring me into action. I have been in Japan for four weeks. I left China, spent about 2 1/2 weeks in Iowa, a week in Oregon, and then the bright lights and big city of Tokyo. I was greeted in Shinjuku by old friends from the US, people I hadn't seen in years--Mariko, Yuriko, Wataru, Himi, Nami (well, I did see Mariko in China and we traveled to the Stone Forest near Kunming).

I came as part of the Japan Exchange and Teaching Program, along with over a thousand other new participants (all young people), and they put us up in the five-star Keio Plaza in the middle of Shinjuku (the Times Square of Tokyo, the world's largest city). Sleep was elusive. We were in Tokyo for three days, and everyone was in an exuberant mood, the strange perfume of mania permeated the three-day orientation. There were banquets galore, a lesson on how to bow, and all kinds of individuals with interesting stories to tell. I met a guy who had lived in the same 20-unit apartment in Eugene, Oregon, the same time that I did. I met a Taiwanese who was born in the same hospital as I was, in Iowa City, Iowa. Before I knew it, we were whisking down the continuously welded tracks of the Shinkansen (bullet train), sailing past Mt. Fuji at 250 km/h. Nagoya is a mere 104 minutes from Tokyo Station by train, six hours by bus.

Nagoya's one of the commercial centers of Japan, the hub of Aichi Prefecture, responsible for a huge chunk of Japan's manufacturing and agriculture output. Here is the headquarters of Toyota Motor Company. It is the third largest metropolitan area after the Tokyo-Yokohama-Kawasaki conurbation and Osaka-Kobe. 2.2 million people live in Nagoya.

My apartment is small, but you would expect that. There is a large bathtub in one room, and a toilet in a completely separate room (as it is in all Japan). You must take off your shoes upon entering the home, and put on special shoes when entering the toilet room (and take them off before leaving the toilet room). My apartment overlooks the Ueda River which is full of carp and turtles. Across the street is a manga (Japanese comic) shop and a hair salon called "Hair Beauty Queen." There is a Chinese restaurant (run by Japanese, I checked) 30 seconds from my door and a subway station about one minute away. Next to the There are vending machines on seemingly every block, selling hot & cold drinks, beer, and cigarettes. Japan is very expensive.

I teach English at Tempaku High School three days a week, and it's a 25 minute walk there. The fourth day is spent at Showa High School, and the fifth day at Nisshinnishi High School. You must take your shoes off upon entering the schools, and put on special slippers which are only worn indoors. You must put on special shoes for the gymnasium, as well. My employer is the Aichi Prefectural Board of Education. It has been hot and humid lately. I arrived in Japan on the hottest week of the year, and there have been plenty of days that cleared 40 degrees Celcius (100 F). We are also warned that Japan is prone to natural disasters and in the event of an earthquake, you should open the door as doors can be warped in an earthquake and may not open afterwards.

Yuka lives in Nagoya too, so I see her most days. She lives five subway stops away. Last weekend we went to a matsuri, a traditional Japanese festival which is usually held during the summer. There have been a lot of festivals lately, especially around the week of O-Bon, the Buddhist festival for the dead. At matsuris, there is music, plenty of food, people in yukata (light cotton summer kimonos) and wooden sandals that go click, click, on the asphalt. The older women move much more naturally than younger people with the necessarily restricted range of motion that walking in a robe imposes. Also there are small parades of people singing in masks and costumes, taiko (drum) performances, and beer. We witnessed a taiko performance at another matsuri held under Nagoya Castle. And lots of fireworks.

I also have visited Japan's first Robot Musuem which is in Nagoya. We had a BBQ under Okazaki Castle, next to a river. I have been eating a lot, enough to worry Yuka, but the food is so good. I often find myself photographing dishes placed in front of me. I hope to see my friend Javier soon, a Spaniard from Pamplona who lives in Yamagata, in the northern part of Honshu Island (the main island of Japan). Next week I will give an aisatsu (greeting speech) for the students and staff of my schools, along with some bows and courteous expressions. Last week I attended the five-day "Aichi Prefecture Seminar for the Improvement of Japanese Teachers of English Communicative Competence" in Kanie (蟹江), which translated literally means, "Crab River."

These are my first impressions of Japan.