10-13-06 Friday Night "I am so hungry I could eat a horse!"

10-13-06 FRIDAY NIGHT “I am so hungry I could eat a horse!”

Well, after a week with out Internet, I know now that I am not totally an addict. Though I was jones’ing at first to get a web fix, I made a sacrifice, and it didn’t really hurt all that much.

A number of us were planning on going to The Internet café, which was back near Omuta, the first hotel we stayed in after our flight to Kumamoto. At first, interest for this trip included just enough for one full cab load, but soon there was a 5th man out and a cab issue.

I had a TON of entries to post; everything you see before this entry, totaling somewhere in the area of 35 pages single-spaced. The problem was that the diver would only let four in his cab (with one in the front) –not the five that we had.

We were totally prepared to get two cabs, but I sucked it up and decided not to go. SO… that proves it. I am not addicted.

I rather did some laundry with my man Tom, a cool music teacher from Minnesota, so I would have less dirty underwear when we hit Tokyo a few days from now.

Next, we went to You MeTown, which essentially is a Japanese super Walmart. It is weird though, because each department is owned by a separate business, therefore you have to buy the merchandise nearest the cash register where you find it.

Tom (a music teacher from Michigan) and I got some tempura there. I got the chicken, he got king prawn. Meeting back up with Virginia, we walked over to the Japanese McDonalds set up (like they have in some Walmart’s back home.) The funky Latina was dining on a Big Mac, Miami style in Japan.

Again, even this entire megalithic store had no clothing clad in kanji text. Anything that could be worn had been Americanized and 95% was in English to boot.

After returning to the hotel room, I had to make a choice; meet up with the principal of the middle school we visited today at a place called “For People Who Loves To Eat,” or wait for the group that went to the internet café so we could eat some “local cuisine.” In hindsight I made the right decision.

Kate, Meg, Jenny, Kip, Andrew and I headed out to a smaller restaurant whose name we have no idea. It was a nice little place with about 6 booths or so. We ended up doing what we typically do and that was to order a bunch of food and just eat off of everyone’s plates. (Most of it being served family style anyhow, this was the best way to try new stuff.) The tables had a Korean BBQ grill at each and both of our tables took advantage of it. Frying up some excellent shitake mushrooms and chicken strips, we couldn’t wait for what was next. (Or at least some of us couldn’t wait. Others were perfectly content with waiting.) Yes. This was the night we were to eat Basashi! (Not just horse meat folks… RAW HORSE MEAT.)



It actually wasn’t bad and was very much like the sushi or raw beef we had eaten when dipped in a little soy sauce.

After eating the horse, I ducked out a minute to see if the principle was at “People Who Loves To Eat” with Tom and Virginia. Turns out that though he no showed, but I rather think his saying he would meet them was lost in translation as he didn’t speak very much of any English.

As we were leaving, Meg (a music teacher and opera singer) and I hooked up with two other ladies from JFMF who wanted to do karaoke. So we stopped in a karaoke bar down the street to check it out.

It was much more lame than the ones I have seen in the states. Something like a $20 cover charge and there was only one guy and girl in the joint. It looked like a walk in closet with a flat screen television on the wall. Anyhow. The four of us opted not to sing yet, but laid out a plan for SUNDAY! The women went bowling, I went back to the room for some shut eye and decided that since I have gone almost a week without a treadmill, I should go rock it old school and run through Arao.

Feeling like Godzilla in tennis shoes, I ran in the dark through a tiny suburban area behind our hotel. Using the heinous Ferris wheel as my breadcrumbs, I was safe to run anywhere and find my way back home through the rows and rows paper houses.

When I got back, I felt like I had finally accomplished something so I grabbed a shower and listened to the Japanese version of The syndicated Delilah Show. This channel had no DJ but featured mostly soft rock & love songs from America –some of it original artists and some of it Japanese covers. (Killing Me Softly sounded more like “Kirring Me Sofry” but who cares –right?)

Made a sweet $20 international call home.

Sleep.