If you want to be emailed these types of writings as I write them, email me at rob@robnugen.com

mid May 2003

I seem to have reached a stable state in Japan.  I have a weekly
schedule: I go to work; I take Japanese classes; I study Japanese; I
eat; I sleep.

I have a bicycle and I have a wallet.   The good news it that they've
been in my constant possession for a couple of weeks each now.  (That
hasn't always been the case.)

A couple of weeks ago, maybe 3 weeks now, I received a bicycle to use
while I'm living in Japan.  This bicycle had been unused since it was
purchased; it was too big for its owner (my Japanese tutor's mom).  I
had mentioned to my tutor that I needed help finding a used bicycle to
purchase.  A week later I had a bike.

Two days later the bike was towed.

I didn't know that the bike rack against which I had parked the bike
was actually a barricade forbidding bicycles to be parked there.  I
felt pretty upset at the time - victimized: why was *my* bike towed
while all these other bikes were left behind?   I was a bit peeved at
the inconvenience, but mostly just upset that I didn't understand
*why* it had happened.

I went to the police and told them what had happened.  They didn't
take any of my information, but simply gave me a sheet of paper
apparently describing how/where I could pick up the bike.  Except for
a few numeric digits, I had no idea what any of it said.  There was a
map on the sheet, but I couldn't read any of the landmarks, nor even
tell which landmark was the bike pound.

A few days worth of walking passed while I worked during the hours
that bike pound was open.  During that time I had the map translated
well enough that I thought I could follow it.

On Tuesday, the day before I was to meet with Koko (my tutor) again, I
had a day off work during which I planned to get the bike.  I took a
bus, synchronistically got off at the correct stop, asked for
directions to the bike pound (by pointing to the map) and arrived
some 15 minutes later at the gate.  Locked.  I had arrived in plenty
of time; I had an hour and a half to wait until they opened.

As I prepared to settle in to a good hour of studying, I noticed
something particularly unsettling.   I didn't have my wallet.

D'oh.

I cried a bit out of silly frustration; how could I have been so
absent minded to not bring it?  I called Frank at home, expecting to
hear the good news that it was simply on my desk in my room.

No such news.

Okay, well, hopefully he just didn't see it.

No such luck.

My wallet was gone.

Without the wallet, I couldn't recover the bicycle; in the wallet I
had a note from Koko's mom indicating the registration number of the
bike and permission from her to let me use the bike.  Plus I had no
money and the bike towing fine is 1500 yen.

I experienced personal growth that day.  I seemed to have two genres
of options.  One would be to basically shut down until the wallet was
recovered, to allow myself to wallow in victim mentality like the
world owes me my wallet and the bike.  The other genre was to move on,
to cut my losses, to simply start over.

I had really hoped I would be able to recover the bike and not tell
Koko that I lost it.  I visualized riding it to see her the next day.
Such a reality would have meant I had recovered both the bike and the
wallet.

Realities are a funny thing.  The reality I experienced included me
calling Koko on Tuesday night, preparing her for the news the next
day.

The next day instead of Japanese tutoring, Koko and I spent 6 hours
together, working to recover from my lost wallet and lost bike.  Most
of this time was spent walking to various places: to apply for my new
alien registration card, to cancel my old bank card, to buy a new
wallet.  When it came time to recover the bike, we couldn't quite
figure out the logistics: she needed to be there with me to vouch for
the bike, but we couldn't both ride the bike back (nor could we both
ride the bus back (with a bike)).  We could have separated, letting
her ride the bus back and me ride the bike back, but there was a nicer
option: her mom drove us to the bike place, and drove her back.

I was and am so thankful for their help that day.

A few days later, I was riding my bike to work and got a flat tire.
(I got the tire fixed before I saw Koko again.)

(( The next time I saw Koko, she translated for me a notice I had
received in the mail.  My wallet had been found and was at a police
station in some city (I've forgotten the name).  I recovered the
wallet, but there was no money inside.  I don't think that someone
simply stole the money.  According to all the rumors and my other
experiences, Japan is a very honest society.  Also, the wallet looked
like it had been severely traumatized; maybe it got hit by a car and
money scattered everywhere.  The alien registration card and my Texas
drivers license had been creased.  One of my credit cards had been
broken.  The wallet itself looked damaged to the point that I didn't
recognize it at first.  I have used the old wallet as an artistic
reminder to myself:  on my wall next to the door, so that I see it
each time I leave my room, I have pinned the wallet with a note: 

                         I PERSEVERE.  

))

Whew.  So all of that has been a proverbial monkey wrench in my life,
but I have continued to charge forward, rarely looking back with a
victim mentality.   I trust that the whole experience is a golden one
for me.

- - - -

Work has stabilized.  The first three days of OJT were horrible; I
really hated it and had many rants, verbal and electronic.  But now
that no one is watching my lessons, I'm free to be more creative and
flexible with the format.  I mostly wing every lesson I teach, which I
hope is better for the students.  I don't really have a way of gauging
this now.

- - - -

I don't really hang out with my roommates.  I'm too busy studying
Japanese to play video games with them, and we don't really chat all
that much beyond how's-it-going type of stuff.

- - - -

I have begun the process of finding English students, and have almost
contacted one student.  But the number given to me is either incorrect
or disallows incoming calls from my cellphone.

---  ---  ---  ---

Overall, it's all good in the hood.

Peace to you.

      - Rob!