here, there, everywhere

Another thing we never managed to see when we lived here: the remains of the American B-52 that was shot down during the Christmas Bombings in 1968. Though there isn't much to see, it's striking nonetheless to see such a physical remnant of the war sitting quietly in the middle of a busy square.

One of the things I was the most apprehensive about before this job began was the driving: because we teach all over the place, we have to commute by a variety of means, including driving our boss' improbably tiny van about forty minutes every morning to a big company that lies way out of town, amidst a sea of beautiful rice fields and disconcertingly thin roads which are, even more unsettlingly, slightly elevated above the fields themselves. The first time the previous teachers drove us out there - tiny van unflinchingly plowing forward as every other car on the skinny, un-barrier-ed road rattled by it way too close and way too fast, all I could do was stare at the 2 foot drop on either side of the roads. While driving on the left definitely did my head in a bit are first - particularly since the turn signal and the window wipers are reversed - it turns out that driving on the wrong side of the road is nothing compared to the crash course in spacial perception that is my morning negotiation through the rice paddies. Iain - who grew up in the UK in a town with equally skinny little roads - has had no problems with the driving, but as happy as he is to drive, there are two days a week when I have to head out by myself.



Fortunately, it's been a week, and not only am I getting used to it - my pulse barely races when a bus rattles past me - but I actually am starting to like the drive. There are still a few tricky parts where I have to hold my breath, but in general I just find myself enjoying the route out of town, trundling over and alongside the river (see above), past the cherry-blossom studded Numazu Alps, into the lush fields that surround the office we work at.  I would take it over my subway ride from Fuchu to Shinjuku any day.

We said goodbye to LA this morning and - after an amazing pancake breakfast graciously cooked by my eleven year old cousin - set off North towards Monterey along the Pacific Coast Highway, a drive I've never done before and which is even more beautiful than I'd imagined. 

For all my worries about driving out of LA (after the two hours spent inching along the 10 when we arrived), the drive was actually a lot of fun, and was accompanied by two CDs made explicitly for use along the PCH, which Iain's former boss made for him before we left Hanoi. (So if you think it's lame that I quoted the Red Hot Chili Peppers in my subject heading, you should just be relieved I didn't say anything about long strange trips or being a goddess on the highway. All hot-linking aside, the CDs are great company, so, thanks, Iain's old boss!).

(This is my favorite kind of scenery in the whole world.)