Even My Socks Smell like Yakiniku

Good Evening All,

I went to a bachelor party last weekend, yeah, someone in my study abroad programme is tying the knot next week, he even has a kanji test the very next day, crazy fool. Really though, this was sort of an eye opener for me. I'm not saying this young man's incipient marriage prompted me to start flipping through phone books in a desperate search for a charming Japanese wife, but it provoked me to think that people lives all around the world progress at wildly different paces. I am really happy for this guy though, although the events of the bachelor party did not correlate with the ideal image of a young, loving, responsible husband that I hope all Japanese girls look for in men, foreign and the like. The night concluded with our large group of gentlemen gathering at the shore of the Kamo River, in the heart of Kyoto, to send of the bachelor's spirit. The ceremony consisted of the bachelor, scaling the bank west bank of the river and releasing a small plastic phallus, symbolizing the freedom of this poor young man, down the gentle current of the Kamo River. Touching, really.


Me and the Groom


The Freedom Ceremony

The rest of the weekend was pretty exciting due to the two-day-long Ritsumeikan Festival (gakuensai). This annual festival consists of any and all willing circles (extracurricular activity clubs) to set up booths in order to raise money, have fun, make food for the people etc. There's really nothing like walking around a crowded campus confident that you are the tallest man within a half mile radius, not to say that I don't take joy out of looking at the tops of people heads (the Japanese have very healthy scalps from the looks of it, not to generalize or anything). The food was amazing-ramen, udon, sweet bean soup, donuts, takoyaki, hotdogs, korokke katsu-and I even got to showcase my Japanese freestyling ability yet again, this time instead of being in a smokey club, I was outside and in front of a much larger audience, tons of fun, really. The next day I returned to the festival to pay homeage to the Study in Kyoto Programme Buddy stand. It was cold outside, but nothing can come in between me and lukewarm cream puffs covered in honey. I ended up freezing my hands off giving our free hugs to introverted passers by, mostly tiny Japanese girls, hilarious really.


Me and Azusa, my best friend ever!

"My Socks Smell like Yakiniku" What's the meaning behind this? Good question. Yakiniku is Japanese for . . . essentially it is Korean Barbeque. The stuff is amazing. My friend Dan from Toronto, So Seung from Korea, and Kuri from Tokyo had made a plan a month in advance to go out for Yakiniku and last night it all went down, without a hitch I might add. The 45 minute bike ride had us all drooling as we entered the small restaurant. NOTE: Yakiniku restaurants are known for their poor, and sometimes complete lack of, ventaliation. Our original party of three had exploded to three French people, a Canadian, a Canadian, a Korean, a half-German-Japanese, a pure Japanese man, and one solitary American; this proved to be the best explosion ever. First came the tounge, then the steak sashimi, followed by copious amounts of amazing beef and Yebisu beer, some of Japan's best. The resident Korean was the man of the hour, manning both of the grills, keeping everyones bowl full of meat and glasses full of beer, and encouraging what the Koreans call "oneshot" or what my mother calls "doing something stupid" (don't worry Ma, here I sit writing in good health).

Shout out to the Parker Family, Wayne, Helene, Danny and Micah, my second family, enough said.

Happy Thanksgiving?