As well as teaching us Japanese, I am now convinced that our school has a second, and far more sinister, motive: instilling in us a set of fascist values that would make even Mussolini blush. Almost every day we are expected to comment on racial stereotypes and ideologies, under the thinly-veiled excuse of ‘grammar practice’; in fact just last week our assessed composition was entitled ‘National Characteristics of the Motherland’. So not only am I unable to correctly construct sentences using any of the grammar points that I am being taught, but in my attempts to do so I am forced into causal racism. A casual racist who can’t communicate in a verbose and articulate manner; good to see that I’m living up to the stenotype of being a Northerner.
Will things in my flat please stop breaking, please? No sooner have I fixed the toilet (thanks Mike), than my clothes hanger decides that it has had enough of this world, spilling my carefully hung garments across the interior of my wardrobe and making it look like a fashion warzone. Of even more concern is the structural damage that it appears to have called to the walls of my apartment. I’m just glad that I decided against bringing my camelhair coat back from the UK, as that would quite literally have been the camelhair that broke the back (of my wardrobe); and irony aside that is the last thing that my apartment needs right now.