JR Travel Week (Japan Rail)

Have been traveling all week on the Japan Rail lines. Will attempt to update blog this summer:

Forthcoming commentary on:
(Feb 19/20) Tokyo: Salsa & Roppongi nightlife; (Feb 21/22) Miyajima Island: Mt. Misen pilgrimage; (Feb 22) Hiroshima: hibakushas and the omni-present A-bomb; (Feb 23) Horyu-ji & Chugu-ji: birthplace of Japanese Buddhism; (Feb 23/24) Nara: Kofuki-ji & Todai-ji (Emperor Shomu); (Feb 24/25) Kyoto: Station & Higashi-Hongan-ji & Kitano Tenman-gu, a blooming marketplace:

PlayDay with Sean Patrick

Weekends for the career family mean stealing away precious playtime with the kid. Plus one tries to afford an ounce of energy for projects and such... mind you this is between changing diapers, looking for pacifiers, and feeding a demanding mouth. Today is for Kristin, she went to the gym. Tomorrow Michael will have to work on his graduate paper.
The afternoon? Daddy Michael and I took Sean to the neighborhood Ramen noodle bar for soup and dumplings, and then on to the local park. Oh, does he smile when Daddy glides him down the slide. He giggles and grins. Michael has the balancing act down pat with Sean centered in his lap for the swingset -- up, up and aways. He's a daddy's boy, no question (sorry Kristin!, babies aren't politically correct).
Now home and Sean is sitting in my lap watching Baby Einstein dvd collection "Baby Beethoven Symphony of Fun" while Daddy has passed out on nearby futon sofa... a luxury available only while Nanny Bruce is in town (wink). I'm typing with one hand. Naptime doesn't last long, as the phone rings or a bottle drops to the floor.
Now picking apple bits off Sean's and my clothing, as he merely wants to chomp with his incoming teeth, but no interest in swallowing. It's on to a rice cracker shaped like a heart. Now he's on the floor playing with blocks and toys that make sounds, like the octopus that teaches shapes, and an airplane that makes zooming sounds. His favourite is standing up behind the fire truck and pushing it around the livingroom. It has a horn, bell and siren. He will be walking without assistance within the month!
Sean has the longest eyelashes, bluest eyes, and sandiest hair. A walk in the park is an oogling hour of onlookers who are fascinated and chant "kawai" (cutie) as they go by.
It's taken a half hour for this entry, as I'm on duty and often stop to redirect Sean. My hat's off to you folks who do this on a daily basis.
We talked to Grammy and Grandpa Wells this morning via computer thru a service called www.skype.com which allows you to use microphones on computer to chat live. Excellent and basically free. Remarkable clarity, especially as it was set up as a speakerphone.
I think Grammy Wells is going to slip me an extra bonus if I take Sean home as my one piece of personal carry-on luggage. An international skype chat in this household is a fiveway gab fest (make that six with me here), in which everyone talks in and around and over the other, with very welcome interruptions when Sean decides to giggle or gabble, bibble and babble. Today he distinctly said "Da da, da da..." Although she is missing it, Sean just said "Mama, Mama."
Living at this extreme distance from family and close friends does limit your sense of feeling grounded, as well as the perhaps not so obvious limit of a support system. An eventual transition back to the states is inevitable, and with some patience and planning this international couple hope to be in proximity to Kristin's New England based family. In a place like this that offers exceptional salaries, it's easy for a decade or two to zip by without realizing it. Fortunately this couple knows when "enough is enough." The baby has definitely shifted priorities and assisted in speeding up goals.

When Mommy gets home she probably won't be impressed by the livingroom now transformed playpen. We've taken out the blocks, pots, pillows and blankies and strewn them all over the place. He's entertained, so I can finish typing and check email. Michael's fixed me a cup of hot chocolate and is preparing the curry dish.

St. Maur's International School, Yamate

Hot tea and jam on muffins each morning accompanied by fragrant birthday lillies adorning a table which bubbles with hyped energy. Parents pass verbal reminders of schedules, administrivia, and "honey I gotta go". Baby S.P. demands full attention and does the circuit, as he's handed off while dishes are cleared, shoes are tied, and bottles are filled. Morning is a 'don't blink or you'll miss it' time in which these Yokohama Urban Professionals cram grooming and baby daycare preps into slated segments of tasks done with clockwork precision. Routine?, yes. Easy?, no way! I'm exhausted just watching them. I find I am mentally reminding myself to remain calm, more for them than for me... hoping some of my relaxed disposition will rub off on them. Meanwhile, dotted across the concrete landscape of greater Yokohama and stretching to Tokyo and beyond, litterally millions of others are rushing in similar fashion to pull it together and get out of the house. BUT, the majority do not have cars, nor do they have a buffer zone for the occasionally late arrival time. They go by foot, by bike, by train, and they are punctual and efficient. Ladies and gentlemen of all ages in all professions are peddling and dashing in their skirts and trench coats, dodging swift moving miniaturized automobiles with models we've not seen but are needed to fit their narrow streets and slim sidewalks.

A morning of instruction en espanol! I am in thrust into the rush hour commuter pool. Flashing my rail pass at the turnstyle, I try to recall my route to school and practice pronunciation of the places ahead so I may ask for directions when needed. "Eki Ishikawa-cho doko, kudasai?" Where's the Ishikawa-cho train station, please? I point at my rail map. My transfers are swift and soon I am exiting onto Motomachi Avenue. I ask to make sure I am headed the right way. "None of the boutiques have opened", says a man in Japanese, when he asks me what I'm looking for and I say the shopping district. He aks what I want, and I point to my clothes, rubbing the material between my fingers..., meaning I want to get to the area that sells clothes because the base of road I turn off at starts just after Baby Gap. How do you express that? In my head I am having a completely different conversation but have no idea how to convey my needs beyond this initial attempt. He doesn't want to send me their because he knows the shoppes do not open 'til later. He suggests coffee. "Domo arigato gozauimasu," I quip, turning to go.

I fly up the winding path, passing black and white spotted kittens sleeping in a tipped whicker basket at eye level on a side porch. More cats walking along the fence and perched on retaining walls of gardens. I climb the steps which provide a shortcut to the cresting road beyond the Foreigner's Cemetary. A calico is on a limb in the middle of the hill. He offers several "good morning" meows. I want to be on time for my guest speaker engagement.

Anita teaches Spanish and English with Kristin at Saint Maur's catholic k-12 school in the peaceful and oh so chic Yamate neighborhood utop the bluff overlooking Yamate and Motomachi. I check into the main office and receive my visitor's pass. Kristin fetches me and hands me off to Anita who is running an errand. She sweeps me off to the village to post a letter. We chatter away in Spanish on topics in and out of the classroom. I share my ideas for the sixth grade lesson. This is an exploratory class in week three. They know how to meet and greet, how to count, and report their age.

A dozen blue uniformed children donning sweaters, skirts and ties file in. They appear most inquisitive and studious. It's not an act. They are organized and eager to participate. Anita introduces me and the children respond with a rote greeting, "Buenos dias maestro." After a brief "me llamo", I dive into a reading aloud and pronunciation tip: isolating syllables by slash lines of separation. Ho/la co/mo est/as.... E/sta/dos U/ni/dos... mit/su/bi/shi...Yo/ka/ha/ma... I tease them by mixing in Japanese words using our Roman alphabet. I explain the close similaries of phonetic rules between the two languages. They quickly get the hand of it and are reading all the words on the board with ease. I use an emphatic method of exaggerative syllable separation, as though we are chanting and repeating, faster and faster. Next I pull out an old favourite of mine that some of my Spanish Ones will remember. It's the military style chant of reciting the alfabeto en espanol. We establish the extra four letters (ch, ll, n, rr) and soon I play the role of drill sargeant and they retort to the tune of "sound off, one, two, three, four... one, two..... three, four" only using letras. This drill speeds up and is followed by first group process of spelling aloud the names of classmates we've recorded on the board. Then they break into groups to spell their names (Pedro, Estrella, Antonio...) and their countries of origin and/or street names. We come back for a briefing on time telling. They transition with a group, verbal recitation of numbers one thru sixty. They are quick to conceptualize the basics of adding and taking away the number of minutes from the nearest hour. I provide the key question "?Que hora es?" plus the equation for response using "son las (hora) y/menos minutos". Popping a few practice clocks on the board and volunteers are immediately making successful attempts. This is a sign of a supportive environment, and teachers who encourage risk taking and participation in the classroom. The period ends, after a flash 45 minutes, with partners drawing two clocks and writing and verbalizing the time to eachother. There's the bell, and a "gracias Senor Carver" later I am swept back to Kristin's office. Very impressive group, muy listos.

Next little Oscar from Mexico City appears for one-on-one grammar and conversation practicum with Kristin, as Learning Strategist. He is a delightful lad with no shortage of words. He freely shares stories of traveling in Japan and recommends a visit to Nikko, to view the carved Monkey Trio depicting See, Hear, and Speak no evil. Kristin asks that we cover a sticky area for Oscar (and most Spanish speakers) employing the use of comparatives and superlatives. With smiles, he plugs away at producing sentences until the errors are eradicated. I use Spanish grammar explanations and sample sentences to translate, to assist him in arriving at a fuller comprehension of terms and usage. Kristin has a warm rapport with him. She balances encouragement, sensitivity and humour to maintain his interest.

The afternoon and evening revolve around sushi eating and a visit to one of a gazillion pastry shoppes I keep seeing in every quartier. During the day, they are full of woman sipping tea and munching on croissants and other tantilizing filled sweets. With a pinch of self-guilt, I skip doing anything too productive, and go home. At least emails and blog time were accomplished.

I play Nanny Bruce, picking up Sean Patrick at Japanese DayCare, meeting Kristin at the station. Kristin and I go out for conveyor belt sushi, served up in a flashy, mirrored ceiling restaurant with pendulum lighting. It's an enclosed bar in which you watch the chefs before you prepare and place saucers of various sushi onto a conveyor belt that revolves around the room. You pull off the plates you desire, and the color of the plate indicates the price. All the plates are recorded by a check-box system upon completion of dining. Hot tea is piped in via metal tubed plumping that the customer freely taps from the faucet at your seat.

For those of you who won't be visiting Japan anytime soon, please do consider a weekend evening at the famed Rock & Roll Sushi dining at Ben Kay, corner of India and Commercial Streets, Portland.

Dai Butsu: Kamakura, Yokohama

Today a rail trip to Kamakura for a visit to the Great Budda or "Dai Butsi" of Kamakura, and his many zen temples. He is a metal green GIANT, a statue sitting in lotus position atop a stone plateau measuring the size of an olympic pool. He is hollow, and I went inside his belly, taking pictures up into the cavity of his head. "Flat Stanley" joined me. He is a cut-out paper doll sent as a project by an elementary student from North Conway, New Hampshire. Adelle asked that Kristin send Flat Stanley out and about in Japan, taking pictures of him at all the favourite sites -- returning him, the photos and accompany stories for a final world report, or show and tell by the end of the month.

Speaking of photos, I found the below sites which provide a perfect briefing for you to discover the splendor and significance of this ancient, hallowed ground.
http://www.mountainbikebill.com/J-Kamakura.htm http://norman.walsh.name/2003/11/20/kamakura
http://www.japan.com/travel/cities/kamakura.php
Kamakura means "cave rock. "

There is an expansive network of paths which wrap around the sites and sweeps down to the oceanside. I walked for five hours, stopping for only brief moments at shrines, temples, and lookouts. The latter half of the day included a mountainous climb, following a slippery and muddy slope along a ridge upon a bluff overlooking Kamakura and her distant beach. I was uncertain how long the hike would take, but did find my way to Zeni Arai Benten, an ancient buddhist site which celebrates the white snake and the waters which bring abundance to those who draw water from the streams passing through the springs in this holy place. One walks through a long rock lined tunnel at the entrance of Zeni Arai. Coming to the opening, several huts encircle the walls of the narrow gorge. Several small altars are tucked around bends, accessible by foot paths of stone and gravel. Stone dragons and dogs draped in red cloth coats guard the entrances to the steps leading up to these altars. Incense burns, sweetening the air and occasional chimes sound. Claps are heard in the closing of prayers. Water trickles from the cave walls and is channeled in miniature canals. Plum and cherry blossoms have already started to bloom.
Exhausted and strangely at peace with all my senses, I left the woods and returned to the village to catch a JR train back to Kikuna.
What awaited me was a spontaneous inviation for a traditional Japanese shabu-shabu dinner out in Tokyo!
This is similar to a fondu, in that you dunk veggies and meats into pots of boiling water and/or pork broth that are atop a portable open flamed stove at the table. Once cooked to your liking, you then dip into potsu (japanese dipping sauce) and eat. Chop sticks are ideal for this. You end with dunking udon, Japanese wheat noodles into the same pots. We tried a couple of traditional warm sakes and finished green tea ice cream, and a tofu dessert that was similar to flan.
$200 for 5 people.

Chuka-gai / Chinatown

Freezing and rainy all day. My hands could not get warm, holding the umbrella and without gloves! The rest of my body was fine, hidden beneath layers of fleece and gortex. No matter, as the sites, sounds and smells lured me into the intoxicating rhythms of this industrious and chic village within the city. Chuka-gai would be better named Royal Chinatown, as it was spotless, upscale, if not trendy at times. Pastry shoppes and dim sum cafes on every block. I feasted on hot seafood noodle soup. I will note that it's helpful to learn early on how to ask for "no MSG, and no meat products", if you have dietary restrictions. I'll be ready for'em today!

For a few pics, visit:
http://www.angel.ne.jp/~t-gucci/china1.html (click on "start", then click on any photos)
For black and whites, click on:
http://www.asahi-net.or.jp/~eg3y-ssk/photo/panorama/chinatown/
If you've really got the time and want a load of photos from allover Japan, including Chaku-gai:
http://homepage.mac.com/nyme/PhotoAlbum67.html

Chinatown is colorful, dazzling and safe. In fact, the entire country VERY SAFE with respect to crimes by people. I understand the police do not carry firearms, only night sticks. Yokohama citizens have been most sincere and eager to help me find my way. I have a dictionary of sorts called "Japanese in Plain English: The Easiest Way to Learn the Language" by Boye De Mente. It's like a textbook and dictionary made for the basic first time traveler, chocked full of useful, travel expressions. I don't feel overwhelmed reading it, and it is not grammar based. Instead there are meaningful sample uses/phrases for each introduced word.

My vocabulary has doubled since arrival. Okay, that's not saying much and was easy to do, but sincerely the pronunciation is a piece of cake and the grasp of syntax is manageable... to the degree that I am understood (with such things as counting, asking for directions, and my please and thank yous).

After a few hours strolling about Chuka-gai and the Motomachi shopping district of haute couture, I got directions to walk up to the bluffs overlooking Yokohama, upon which sits several international schools. Kristin teaches English and learning strategies to international students at St. Maurs, in a charming neighborhood called Yomate, laced with victorian era residences (reminding me of those seen along Portland's Eastern and Western Promenades). Yomate has the luxury of not seeming cramped, and contains several sloping parks, rock and zen gardens, plus the famed Yokohama Foreigner's Cemetary. Amidst the natural and manmade landscape there is an abundance of ferrile cats. And so, as a tribute to my mother Susan, the greatest cat lover, please enjoy this site of cat pics... the caretakers of the graves:

http://www.geocities.com/tomatorepublic/yokohama/cat1.html

This was a splendid walk atop the city, laden with gated courtyards and manicured bonzai shrubs. Arriving to the school, I stumbled upon Kristin in the vacant hall. She escorted me to the teacher's room where I met colleagues hailing from the far reaches of the globe. Spanish teacher Anita sat at a computer typing her PHD application. I will stay with her my last week. I will visit her classroom as a guest speaker, perhaps on Friday. Anita struck me as fashionable, fun, flirtatious, and formidable! I know we'll have fun out flamenco dancing this weekend with the crowd Kristin has invited.

Next we dashed off to the gymnasium for an hour long game of faculty floor hockey. Six of us appeared, so we played three on three with no goalee. I am honestly limited with rapid eye to hand coordination, but did grow up in Naples playing neighborhood ice hockey on Sebago Lake. I should also confess I have a competitive side, but not typically in contact sports. Not so today. I was aggressively checking the Brit, Marcus, and strategizing passes and slapshots with the other two Bruces (yes, a team of 3 Bruces, as if one wasn't more than enough!). I shocked myself, and will unashamedbly brag about scoring the majority of the points helping our team win with a final score of seven to four. That was a one in a lifetime performance, and I was absolutely exhausted. Kristin and I were laughing and getting winded with the rest of'em. We went home on the train, swetty and smelly but terrifically satisfied. Ahhhhhhhhh, oxygen.

Little Sean Patrick was waiting at the neighborhood daycare (blocks from the apartment), where the nicest woman were handing off children to all Japanese parents, save Sean's. Shoes off at the door. I gave them every nippon vocab bit I could conjure up, and they happily did the same with their limited but respectable bits of English. Kristin mentioned my singing, so the kind lady pointed to the piano. I sat down, playing and singing "Lean on Me" followed by "A Whole New World" acapella. The children ran about me like busy bees, in an excited frenzy, hearing the familiar tune but now in English. The applause and squeels were raucous. The kind lady daycare trumped me with her nursery-rhyme styled song with English lyrics designed to teach children to introduce themselves and great someone new, hit concluded with a handshake and courtsy. Sean is a superstar at daycare. Everyone oohs and ahhhs over this blue-eyed, squirrel cheeked, smiley, belly-laughing bugaboo munchkin! He is a charmer and will melt any heart that has had a long day with his hugs and rasberries. It's no wonder his Grandparents back in Maine are pining away for the return of this exceptional bundle of joy.... oh, and his parents, too. (Ironically, while writing this entry, his Grandpa John just called, and we had a nice chat about his pride and joy.)

Our evenings are patterned with feeding and giving much love and attention to Sean. By the time he goes down, we are ready as well. It's a lite dinner, vegetarian friendly, and off to slumber.

"Conichiwa" from Japan, the land of the Rising Sun

A flawless travel day, in which I made all necessary connections with zero delays.Up at 6:30am in Los Angeles at Kevin and Emilio's apartment atPark LaBrea. Out of the house by 7:30am. Thanks to Kevin's choice of non-highway routes, the minimal L.A. traffic assisted in our timely arrival of 8:30am to the opening of JalPak Inc., a Japanese travel agency near the LAX airport. There I purchased a Japan Rail Pass voucher for $560 good for 21 days of "universal travel" throughout all of Japan's major island of Honshu. This will save you hundreds of dollars if you are planning to travel beyond the Tokyo region, and/or plan on having multiple travel days. I juggled several variables and researched my options, considering such things as length of stay and desired destinations. Please note: being that rail is THE method of efficient transport, and purchasing tickets on a "per use in country basis" is EXPENSIVE, a pre-purchased voucher is the only way to go! You may not purchase these made for tourist vouchers once in Japan, they are only available to foreigners with a passport stamped as tourist. Going online to http://www.jalpak.com/ will help you find a distributing agent to purchase a multi-day pass that works for you, among other travel needs, suggestions and tips for those considering Japan.By 9:30am I am at the LAX United terminal, clearing security and ticketing agents and at my gate by 10:30, in time for a couple last minute calls to friends and family. I board and leave the ground on time at 11:15am, arriving via a non-stop flight to Narita Airport in Tokyo some ten hours later at 3:15pm "far eastern time!" We were nearly an hour early... yet a day later. That is to say, the flight was shorter than expected for one, and that when you fly with the sun although it never sets Japan is already into the next day. So I flew out on the morning of the fourteenth, landing ten hours later on the fifteenth for Japan's dateline. I cleared customs and baggage claim areas by 4pm, easily locating the ticket office at which I needed to exchange my voucher for a rail pass. They conveniently booked me on the 16:43 train to Yokohama, which would "undoubtedly leave at that precise time and arrive without question at 18:16 on the dot at the Yokohama platform",... as Michael would tell me with his irish-born trill when I called him at work from an airport payphone. He was practically whispering on the other end, "Kristin will meet you at the front of the train on the platform. Don't go anywhere else. It's a maze and you'll otherwise get lost." I would later learn that personal calls are just not done in corporate offices where others are within earshot.
A gentle and peaceful train swept me through Tokyo and on to Yokomaha. I chatted away with a businessman returning from the US. He works for a subsidiary of Toyota, which I learned mean "rich rice farm." He is helping to design military based radar technology in conjunction with Japanese software that will help computers installed in cars to avoid accidents. Very cutting edge! He taught me several words and explanations for written Japanese; such as, congi characters which I understand are based on Chinese characters, plus a couple of phonetic alphabets that assist in helping the Japanese identify and properly pronounce foreign words. Blink, we had arrived.

And there she was, my dearest friend from middle and high schools, now mother of nearly one year old Sean Patrick. His twinkling blue eyes are an absolute magnet for the Japanese crowd who are nuts about babies, and even more enthusiastic over this Amer-Euro prince. I, too, was being constantly eyed and smiled at by the sea of seamless commuters moving like graceful robots on and off trains, rippling around me, up and down wide stairs -- simply packed with short dark haired people in dark winter coats and dark handbags. I am astonished by the degree of quietude. Given all these people, and for being in one of the most densely populated metropolitan areas in the world, this is a relatively peaceful place! Like a Hallmark moment deserves, Kristin and I enjoyed one of those exaggerated and joyful hugs, the type of squeeze that says "I missed you sooo-o-o-o much and have been excited for this day to come!" I last saw this international family over the summer at baby Sean Patrick's christening at Saint Mary's in Wells. All the family was present, even Michael's clan from Ireland. They were married nearly three years ago at Saint Mary's, followed by a second reception in Tralee, Ireland, at which both occasions I was blessed to be asked to sing.
After a couple connections we were suddenly in an urban neighborhood, turning a bend and walking a steep incline. Halfway up, we entered a two story four unit. Shoes off and a mini-tour of their concentrated apartment, and we were soon seated on the futon with a cup of green tea, sharing stories of work, travel, family and friends... until way past our bedtime. Michael worked late at his new consulting job, so I didn't see him 'til morning. I felt surprisingly fine considering the travel day. I may have to give credit to a product I'd like you all to try, called No Jet Lag by Global Source. Michael had recommended it to me in an email and I have to say, this homeopathic herbal blend in a convenient chewable tablet delivered the desired results! Trust me, a trip to Japan is a worthy test for a product professing jet-lag cure.
I awoke at at about half past four this morning, eyes wide open and profoundly awake... which is unlike me. Within minutes the whole world around me was like jello. I sat up in bed. It shook the place like a train was pulling in to station, only with practically no sound, just vibrations. The earthquake lasted some 30 seconds. I checked my watch, "4:47am". I felt very exciting actually. Soon Kristin was at my door, "You okay? NO need for WORRIES, honestly. IT is completely a normal part of living on this grand island on the edge of tectonic plates." Fortunately most structures here are designed to absorb the general impact of such tremors.
Well, I've been awake since! Started my morning around the breakfast table with Kristin, Michael and the feeding of baby Sean Patrick. Much more spacious apartment than I'd imagined. They have a living-dining area with kitchenette, then two bedrooms plus a home office. One room even has the stereotypical sliding door... but not made of rice paper. The bathroom configuration is probably the most interesting with three sections: the sink and laundry as you step in off the hall, then either a left into the water closet or straight thru into the bathing annex, which is like a spacious showering room, half of which contains a short tub that is next to you while you shower. The glass door which closes behind you is made by Hitachi! And I thought they were purely electronics. Who knew?
Today I will, of all things, find my way into Chinatown, Yokomahama. It is near to where Kristin teaches. I have a date this afternoon for a floor hockey match at her school. Faculty versus students. Thus, it seemed appropriate to check out this interesting sub-culture of the city. Ironically, we are in the middle of the two weeks celebrated Chinese New Year, and I was just in Los Angeles on Saturday at a parade in that Chinatown. Quite a spectacal of colors and sounds, with long dragons winding down the street and acrobatic, martial arts dancers. Will let you know what I discover.
In closing:In my absense, since the return for Christmas from Central America and Mexico City, I have been reading voraciously, going through pictures, and creating online assessments for French and Spanish classes. I saw several of you in and around the winter holidays, including one afternoon visit to Falmouth High School. Since then, I spent the entire last month, from mid-Jan to mid-Fed, in the company of marvelous friends in highly hispanic concentrated Southern California, during which time they took me for a bonus visit to Baja California, Mexico. I have since made the acquaintance of a fascinating man from Colombia who is in political exile in the U.S. after dodging life threatening situations as a journalist in Bogota. There is a possibility of a Spring visit to Maine at which time I will encourage a gues speaker engagement for Falmouth Students.In addition to all this excitement, I have been hiking and biking along the California Coast in order to condition my legs for the pilgrimage hike across the Pyrenees, a trek to Santiago de Compostela planned for this Spring. I will depart after a tour of the Bordeaux region with my niece, Sabrina, who is a senior French 4 Honors student at Windham High School. As we will be gathering college admissions information and visiting a handful of campuses, I encourage any of you in the Falmouth Schools community to use me as a conduit for requesting educational materials or for providing other research on your behalf.

Mon Dieu. I am quite litterally sitting thru another earthquake as I type to you! I am going to post this entry and GET OUT OF THIS APARTMENT! Wish I were joking. At least it only lasted five seconds. Sionara!!!