If my neighbours had been listening very carefully this morning, then they would have heard a heavy sigh coming from my room, as it was raining again. I considered going for a run, and then I remembered yesterday’s trauma and decided to spend the morning under my Kotatsu drinking milk and listening to the rain beating down on my window, whilst contemplating life as an eternal student.
This evening Martin, Emily, and I went to one of our middle-aged Japanese friends houses for an evening of Shabu-shabu (a traditional Japanese dish, consisting of meat and vegetables served from a very hot pot). I am not exaggerating when I say that this was one of my favourite experiences in Japan to date. We were made to feel so welcome, and were treated like old friends for the six hours that we ended up staying for. I even got given a nickname: ‘Mushroom Boy’, simply because I stated that I liked the taste of Japanese mushrooms. Serves me right for reverting to type and chatting about vegetables I suppose.