So yesterday I bade farewell to my friend Jan, who was visiting me for 10 days. We met years and years ago in Texas through a personal ad, dated for a couple of weeks, and came to the mutual conclusion that we made excellent friends rather than lovers. Since then, I moved to Japan and she moved east. I hadn’t seen her for, wow, more than 12 years, but we’ve kept in touch.

Jan travels a lot–she works very hard and pretty much doesn’t spend her money on anything else, so she can afford to make a couple trips a year to foreign lands. This was her first time in Japan, and she hit the ground running. I had kind of expected her to spend the first day in a jet-lag coma, but we were out the door and exploring what Fukuoka and environs had to offer right from the beginning. We went to Dazaifu Shrine, discovering a tiny children’s theme park hidden away in a magical forest there. No, seriously. As a roller-coaster junkie, Jan needed to ride their "jet coaster," a ride which lasted about 20 seconds. We also played some air hockey, which would end up becoming a running theme throughout the visit. She was kicking my butt at it when I send the puck winging off into some bushes, and the machine had shut down by the time we found it.

We also did a lot of window-shopping. Jan is not one for buying lots of expensive souvenirs–she looks for quirky, fun stuff that’s cheap, light, and non-fragile, and she doesn’t get many souvenirs anyway. But looking is fun.

We had walked way too much, and our feet were hurting, so the next day Jan borrowed Junko’s bike and we went about on wheels. We went in pursuit of fall foliage, but this fall has been pretty warm, so the leaves didn’t really start to turn until a few days later. After a visit to a shrine, a pottery kiln, and the beach, we checked out a display of robots, and got to play with the latest and last Aibo, the robot dog. According to the worker there, Sony is getting out of the robot business. Maybe they ought to get out of the movie and music businesses first, and concentrate on electronics. Robots might be good for them.

After a long bike ride and getting pooped on by pigeons in the park, we explored another shopping district, where we were kidnapped by a crazed flower-arrangement specialist. She showed us all over this very upscale religious-goods shop, which had an actual museum upstairs. It was really cool getting the personal tour, but a little weird.

Next day, we went to work. Jan has some experience with Church-State separation issues, so I had her as a guest lecturer in my American Culture course, which this semester focuses on "America and Religion." It’s a grad course, and I only have two students, so we just meet in my office, pretty informally. This went quite well. That night, Junko took us out to Nakasu, the red-light district, just to look around. We ate outside at a yatai cart, and then went for karaoke. Jan and I did a duet of "I Will Survive" that would have brought down the house if it had been public karaoke, but like 90% of karaoke in Japan, it was a private "box" room, only the 3 of us there. We also did "There’s No Business Like Show Business," which was a blast. Ethel Murman, y’all.

Next was Saturday, and a long train ride to Karatsu for their Karatsu Kunchi festival. Giant fish! The giant fish is coming! Um, describing it is pointless–I’ll just post some pics in the next entry. Anyway, after the festival we walked up to Karatsu Castle, which is gorgeous and commands a fantastic view.

Junko received a phone call from her boss, whose family is in Karatsu, and we were invited over. Her uncle, who looks just like the coach of the Japan Women’s Volleyball Team, talked about life with me, while his daughter, who had just returned to Japan after years in America, had brought home a drunken California surfer duuuuude. No wonder dad wanted to talk about life.

Sunday, in the mood to relax, we hit the hot springs. Very nice–I hadn’t been to one for a couple years. Junko and I both agreed that we need to go more regularly. The next few days were a little more sedate, especially as I was running out of stuff to do. There were plenty more shrines and temples and museums to visit, but Jan isn’t into those things much. I introduced her to udon at a little noodle shop, and we ran across a surreal coffee shop that seemed frozen in time in the 1960s, with only us, the elegant, middle-aged proprietress, and incredibly romantic movie-soundtrack music. Junko made sukiyaki for dinner, and if you’ve never had that, seek it out. It’s good fall/winter food.

Jan joined my American Short Stories class as a student, as we discussed Hemingway’s "Hills Like White Elephants"–she didn’t like the story, but she made some insightful comments. We met a couple of Turks in their tiny carpet shop in an area you’d never expect to find such a shop in. Lili the Wonderdog, who never stopped barking at Jan like she was a stranger the whole time she stayed with us, came down ill, and Jan sat with her most of her final day with us, watching DVDs.

Finally, Junko and I took her to a "snack," a tiny bar, another of those surreal places that seems not to have changed in 40 years. We reprised "I Will Survive" in front of a small audience, and I have to say, I’m going to sing that every time I go out to karaoke from now on–it is the perfect karaoke song. Junko sang the Edith Piaf song she’s been practicing for her next recital, and being in front of an audience pushed her to sing the best rendition of it she’s done so far. The other folks there exploded the stereotype of bad Japanese karaoke singers–since they sing a lot, Japanese people tend to sing pretty darned well, actually.

The next day, we went to the airport, and said goodbye with a big hug. I miss her. It’s nice to get back to life as usual, but I really do miss her.

Pics soon, after I upload them to Photobucket.