Adventures in Japan no. 28 (adult)

Cassandra and I were on a mission. With men being Japan's sexual center, we wondered if there was any place in this city we could find something to pleasure women – a vibrator.

She remembered seeing a video store by the sea that could have had ulterior motives, so we drove in that direction.

As soon as we walked in I knew we wouldn't find anything in there for us. This was man's land - the world of explicit sex – and it didn't belong to women.

We casually walked in, confident and secure. The well-lit front room seemed innocent enough – a Tom Hanks film, some comics. Casually displayed up front with comics were photos of young girls in bathing suits, their ages printed in the bottom corner – 8,9, 10 years old.

We decided we needed to take a full lap around the store, venturing behind the 18+ curtain. The tall shelves of videos provided a safe sanctuary for middle-aged men to hide out amongst their fetishes. As soon as they saw us, they scattered.

The sex industry in Japan is clearly created for and ran by men. I advised Cassandra to purchase online.

Adventures in Japan no. 27

Hungry and tired, I pulled into the Lawson parking lot. I hadn't ate since lunch, and smoked salmon onigiri sounded intoxicating.

Removing my security pass from teaching at the military base, I got out of my car and met the glance of a Japanese man getting out of his car. He smiled and waved. Pleased to see a friendly face, I waved back at the stranger.

Looking through the convenience store aisles, I found my onigiri and again bumped into the stranger.

Once back in my car I put my seatbelt on and the stranger walks by. He waves. I wave back – this time a little confused.

I leave the Lawson parking lot and head toward my next class at Yawata Bussan. “I hope he doesn't follow me”, I think to myself.

I arrived at Yawata Bussan 30 minutes early and sat in my car eating my onigiri. Seaweed, rice and salty smoked salmon is a fantastic combination. After I'm done eating I pick the remnants of seaweed out of my teeth in the rear view mirror and pull out my date book to look at my classes for the week.

I hear a tap-tap on the window.

I look over and there's a large white car parked next to me – the stranger smiling through the glass.

He rolls down his window. With hesitation, I roll mine down too. He begins talking to me in rapid-fire Japanese. Wakarimasen nihon-go, I say. He mentions Yamaguchi – the place my license plates are from. No, Yonago, I say in English. I glance back down at my date book, thinking our conversation is over. Anata wa kawaii desu, he says through his window pointing at his face. I thank him for the compliment. I think I'm cute too.

He realized this was going nowhere and waved goodbye. I didn't wave back this time.

Adventures in Japan no. 26

From the rooftop of Tenmaya I have the perfect view of Yonago. The peninsula is laid out before me, and I can see the ocean on both sides of me. It's dusk and overcast, and the air is humid. I smell the faint aroma of incense – lingering around me from teaching at Mrs. Ikuta's house – her family alter alive with offerings of incense.

The beginnings of summer are all around me – familiar sounds of the returning cicadas, the hot salty air.