LJ Entry VII

"June 23rd (for a few more minutes), 2007

In figuring out how to try to write this entry, the problem that stands out the most is how I can possibly keep it under 5,000 words.
And while there's a good chance that my word count won't go over 5,000, it seems a safe goal, because there really aren't enough words to express everything I told myself I would.

Perhaps a quick point form recap will let me get these last two or so days out easily.
Actually, no, I won't do that.
Those who hate my rambling may find it best to turn away now.

Since Wednesday, I've been in Osaka, continuing my training, this will continue on until July 2nd, at which point I will head to my new home in Kirishima, Kagoshima Prefecture.
I'm at the Tatasuki Sun Hotel, if there are any stalkers or nerds using Google Earth, feel free to check me out.
The jazz bar aforemtentioned is about a 5 metre walk from the door of my hotel.
As also previously stated, I have indeed been there every night.
The bartender and I have become good friends, and so far I've met his father, his brother, and the owner of the bar.
This afternoon, after a very heavy 6 hour sleep, his brother, himself and I went for lunch.
It was the best Okonomiyaki I've ever had.

I should back up.
On Thursday night my Australian friend Nina and I decided after a long day of training to get some food.
The cheaper the better, was the evening's motto.
Craving raw fish, we realized that our motto may possibly rearrange itself.
After looking for some time for a sushi place recommended to me by a man at the jazz bar, we found ourselves lost, gave up, and went into a nice, simple-looking japanese restaurant.
The menu was entirely Kanji, no Hiragana or Katakana, certainly no Romanji, so deciding our food was difficult.
Eventually we both pointed to the same thing, which ended up to be a five-course meal.
We waited hopeful in the tiny two-person japanese booth, with a closed door and an appetizer.
What followed was the best meal I have ever had, in the full entirety of my life.
It was a combo of sushi, sashimi, a fancy take on miso soup, and some other things I've never seen before.
I ended up in tears.
I don't expect anyone reading this to take me for anything more than a crazy person, but it was the meal I have been waiting for all of my life.
Everything in this country, the people, the respect, the food, the nature...all of it.
I've been waiting for it for years, and everything decided to climax in a small room that had created it's own reality.
It was it's own world, and I found myself content.
I tried my best to explain the pure ecstacy of the meal, and he smiled warmly, bowed low, and brought us some ice cream on the house.
Life was a little brighter upon leaving.
The lights, streets, and people had a serenity that I experienced in my new found clarity, as I tried my best to walk, food-drunk, to the bar I was expected at.
Arriving, I caught the last half of the live jazz that was scheduled for that night.
We asked for an encore, and got one.
That was the night I met the bartender's (Yuj's) brother.
He was drinking slowly from a shot glass which held a portion from a beautiful, quite large bottle of 151.
He offered me some, we "cheered" and drank it straight.
Somewhere along the night Yuj began discussing how you can't buy 151 in Japan.
He however, could obtain it because he runs this bar.
We discussed drinks, and noting my enjoyment of the rum containing 76% alchohol, he asked if I would like it if he got a bottle for me to take with me when I leave.
I responded excitedly, and asked how much I should pay him to buy it for me.
He then shook his hand near his face and told me that he would like to give it to me as a gift.
Refusing my objections, the next night there was a large unopened bottle from the Carribean, waiting for me at my usual seat.

If you haven't been keeping up, we're now onto Friday.
That day I had taught my first class, which I now believe was comprised of ten demons disguised as children, planned out by my company far in advance to see if I could deal with it.
I dealt with it.
I showed up at the bar that night with no intention but to drink and trade off broken English with broken Japanese.
I ended up with the bottle of rum and another perfect night.
The owner of the bar came in, his name is Hiro, he's 55, and a well-renowned jazz bassist.
We all sat at a table.
It was him, myself, Nina, his friend Miko (a japanese chef), a japanese junior-high English teacher, and another guy who professed a fond love for The Beatles.
We stayed from 11pm until about 4 in the morning.

In that time some points to mention were Hiro & Yuj playing a piano/bass duet, stories from a life of jazz, deciding that the age of 64 set by The Beatles needs to be upped to 82, a bottle of Merlot, scotch, gin, a 24-year-old aged rum that tasted like Heaven itself, shared conclusions between Hiro & myself on what music actually is, and plans to do it again this coming Saturday when Hiro & some other jazz musicians will musically share the back of the bar.
Hiro insisted to cover my tab before we left.

I slept a heavy six hours and met Yuj and his brother for lunch.
I went back to the hotel and slept for a few hours more."