Today’s schooling included the dreaded weekly dictation session, in which we have to listen to a 3-4 minute conversation, whilst attempting to write it out verbatim. Given that I would probably struggle to do this in English, my short-term memory being akin to that of a dead goldfish, these sessions are not always the most fruitful. In order to at least give the impression that I am not completely hopeless, my ‘coping’ tactic involves filling in the (many many) blanks with my thoughts on the whole dictation process. Needless to say it’s probably a good job that these don’t get handed in, if only because the grammar is no doubt atrocious.
This evening I was supposed to be going to a Brazilian festival, but it was called off because of an imminent Typhoon. Of course, this being Japan, the Typhoon would never actually arrive… is what I thought as I did the weekly clothes wash (sans dirty bath water). It was at this point that the Typhoon decided to make an appearance, forcing me to ignore the strange looks and undoubted laughter from my neigbours as I rushed to get the washing in off the balcony. Looking on the bright side of things I suppose that an apartment full of damp clothing will help with the humidity.