Keeping family hours

I've been staying with friends in Newport, RI, my hometown. They have three kids. The kids are 12,12 (twins) and 8. The kids go to school. Early. I've been getting up at 6 for several days now. It feels very odd.

Speaking of odd, I have to move to Japan because I lost, or more generally won, a bet. Last ChristmasI met and interviewed a woman in Tokyo who taught me new things about milk and club soda, among other things (other fluids).

She asked if she could email me on occasion to learn English. I of course agreed, and joked with friends that if she emailed me five times, I would move to Japan. Her fourth email arrived several months ago, and the ensuing silence made me wonder if one of my friends hadn't told her of my wager. I began to think that I would never hear from her again.

The last time I was in Tokyo, I had dinner with her manager; she would have been there but was out of town. I asked him to give her a small gift; a Japanese edition of a King of the Hill box set. King of the Hill is an American animation series that I loved for several reasons; great theme music, utterly hilarious, and most importantly, it is the most accurate portrayal of Americans I've ever seen on TV. If you want to know what the Average working-class American is really like, this is the show to watch. The box set has Japanese subtitles, so I told her manager that I hoped she liked it and she could maybe learn some English from it.

A couple days ago, I received my fifth email, thanking me for the DVD set. I think she must like it, or at least be vaguely impressed, because it made more of an impression than the thank you photo of my students I sent her (with the admitted ulterior motive of trying to get her to post in on her blog).

So while I don't read Japanese, I am confident in saying that she definitely likes it. Scroll down to the (currently) second entry.

Konichiwa Nippon!

I will blog more extensively about my American tour (!) after I get to Nashville, or more frankly, away from the kids who keep looking over my shoulder as I type.