Bicycles

Our first week in Japan was all about the AOB/ICR class (area orientation brief and intercultural relations). It was a barrage of information. Monday was about the base resources, and Tuesday and Wednesday were about living in Japan. We learned everything from who was on Japanese currency and why to how to avoid the Yakuza (Japanese mafia, apparently they have lots of tattoos and wear black suits). Of course, there was a lot of practicing basic Japanese, and many, many maps. Two folders of hand-outs later, Blake and I were apparently prepared to be set loose in Japan.

Our first order of business, bicycles. We can't take the driving class until next week and hoofing it everywhere sucks. The train station is about a mile away, and all the on-base errands amount to a marathon. The bikes being sold on base were nice, but we kept seeing the Japanese on base riding around with really great baskets on the front of their bikes, and luggage racks on the back. So, we asked the helpful lady who was teaching the intercultural relations class and between her and someone else in class, we had directions to Daiei.

Daiei is basically the Japanese Wal-Mart. Cheap goods, not much in the way of atmosphere. Supermarket on the bottom, housewares and clothes upstairs.

There were a lot of bikes there. Lots of bikes, and also lots of non-English speaking staff. There was a store clerk putting together bikes, and unfortunately for her, we asked her for help and proceeded to turn a five minute process into 45 minutes. It wasn't just picking the bikes out, it was also registration forms and pantomiming, "is this a man's bike or a woman's bike?" That one was interesting. There are only so many ways to pantomime "man" and "woman" without getting arrested.

One thing is for sure, though: when Blake and I get back to America in a few years, we are going to be absolutely unbeatable at charades.

**pictures to come**