My Bosses Are Unicorns

Loathe though I am to speak ill of my benevolent employers, I'm somewhat at the end at the tether and feel the need for a rant. The thing is, I figured out today that I work for unicorns. How so? Well, it would appear that my prefecture's Board Of Education, kind of my uber bosses if you will, consists of mythical beings that may or may not exist. Allow to me explain.

People I work with have assured me that this 'Board Of Education' is real, that it exists at the other end of "fax machines" and "telephones". The kicker, though, is that I've never seen them with my own eyes. Every now and then they even ask me via my colleagues to do things for them, such as sending them forms telling them the date I wish to leave Japan so that they can pay for my trip home. What's wierd is that I then won't hear anything for weeks, making it rather hard to plan ahead and make enquiries regarding transport links and baggage allowances.

Even stranger is the fact I've never spoken to them directly - despite the fact they supposedly speak English (making them very clever unicorns indeed), my colleagues always insist on acting as intermediaries, informing me of what they've said during "phone calls", similar to the way in which a five year old girl will insist that fairies live at the bottom of her garden, but that they only become visible if you accompany her there and turn your back on the spot where they appear. The only logical conclusion, therefore, is that I work for mythical beings.

However, I made a breakthrough of sorts today when I managed to actually obtain the "telephone number" of (name withheld) Sensei and was able to call him directly. Imagine my disappointment then, when the leprachaun that answered told me that he was "away for the afternoon" and "wouldn't be back until next week". Perhaps he's off patrolling a labyrinth somewhere in Greece...

Die, critters, die!

In addition to lots of heat, opportunities to do stuff outside and a great deal of sweating, summer out here also brings with it the onset of bugs, which was made all too clear to me earlier this week. Yes, once again it would appear that I have a cockroach infestation somewhere in the apartment, but the good news is that I managed to spot one of the little buggers and neutralize it with the aid of some handy spray. Bloody big it was too, though as is always the way with these things, the above picture hardly does it justice.

I remember trying all sorts of things last year (cardboard traps filled with bait and adhesive glue which didn’t work, chasing them under cupboards while attempting to hit them with shoes), but this stuff really seems to do the job. Only slight downside is that rather than producing instantaneous death, a steady blast will cause the offending ‘roach to frantically run around in circles, flip over onto its back and wave its legs pathetically in the air before expiring slowly and painfully five minutes later, which can’t be good for one’s karma. Anyway, one down, probably another dozen to go. Am posting a pic of said spray for the benefit of any other JETs who may be reading – Arichol I think it’s called. I suggest tactically positioning several cans of the stuff around the home so that you’re ready to let rip when the beastly parasites show themselves.

A slightly more positive bug experience was had on Monday evening however, with Gemma kindly driving Sean, Sarah and I into the mountains so as to witness the fireflies found in Tomobuchi village. Upon leaving the car, a very pleasant hour so’s wandering was had down the paths running parallel to a number of rice fields, directly above which loomed the heavily wooded mountain slopes. Cheesy though it may sound, the sight of thousands of pulsing green fireflies lighting up the trees and dancing above the paddies to the accompanying sound of crickets, cicadas and frogs was pretty amazing.

It wasn’t quite as busy as I’d imagined either, though there were numerous families there, most of whom had had the foresight to bring torches along with them to navigate the extremely dark pathways. Indeed, so lacking was light generally that any attempts at trying to capture anything on camera were utterly pointless – though the fact that I saw it at all is more than enough for me.

Funny isn’t it, we’re happy to wax lyrical about insects which look pretty, stay outside and illuminate forests for our delight and entertainment, yet ruthlessly exterminate those which are brown, ugly and scuttle around our homes. The combination of natural selection and human prejudice can be so cruel…