Conversations at the Sushi Bar
This past Friday after I finished Japanese class, me and the 3 other students were talking about what to do next. Someone suggested going out for sushi. It sounded like a good idea to all, but the catch was that I was the only one with a car.

I’m not driving the same car I used to have back in Oita. I sold that one to my successor, Josh. Instead I am now driving a car provided by the company. Hard to complain about a free car, but it is not the biggest car in the world. In fact, it is what is referred to in Japan as a “K-car”, or miniature car.

“Is there enough room in your car?” someone asked.

“Well, technically there are four seats in the car, but it is going to be a squeeze fitting everyone in. Look, I’m in the driver’s seat,” I explained. “So I’ll have plenty of room either way. If you guys want to try and cram in the other 3 seats, you’re welcome to try, but it will be cramped with 4 people in that car. I mean, it’s cramped with just one person in that car.”

“Yeah, how do you even fit in that car,” someone said, eyeing the car and then eyeing me.

“It’s a squeeze,” I admitted.

“I hope you’re not offended by this,” someone else said, “but have you ever seen that episode of ‘The Simpsons’…”

“I know where what you’re going to say,” I said, but she continued anyway.

“…where there is the really tall guy in the really small car, and everyone makes fun of him.”

“Yes, I have seen that episode. In fact I think about it every time I get into this car, and wonder if I’ve become that guy,” I answered truthfully.

I miss Mike. Last year Mike Harris was the other teacher with me in Ajimu. Whenever I got too much flack about being a tall awkward white guy in Japan, I’d just point to Mike. He was even taller than I was.

We all fit in the car. And it was a cramped ride. Not so much for me. I was in the driver’s seat. But the others put up with it well.

I was the only non-JET in the group. The other 3 were all teachers on the JET program, and not so happy about having been placed in Gifu. One girl in particular seemed very bitter about it. “Even in ‘The Lonely Planet’ guide book it says to stay away from Gifu,” she asserted.

“Does it really?” I asked.

“It says southern Gifu especially has absolutely nothing worthwhile in it, and everyone should stay away from it.”

“No it doesn’t,” someone else responded.

She shrugged. “Well, not in so many words, but that’s the essential message. After all Gifu is the most polluted part of Japan.”

“You mean Gifu city or Gifu prefecture,” I asked

“The whole Nagoya-Gifu area,” she said. “A few years back they past a law in Tokyo that you couldn’t have dangerous chemicals in residential areas, so all the companies just moved down to Nagoya where there weren’t any regulations.”

I had noticed that I seemed to get tired more often since moving to Gifu, and wondered if there was any connection. I thought about saying something, but decided against it. I suspected it might all be in my head, or maybe a product of the awful school lunches.

“What was Kyushu like?” she asked.

“It was really beautiful,” I said. “I really miss it.” And I do miss it some days. But in Oita prefecture there are just as many JETs who are unhappy with their placements, and wish they were in some more central area. I guess no matter where you are, you always wish you were somewhere else.