Drums keep poundin' a rhythm to my brain

I know you're all dying to hear what exciting hi-jinks I got up to for my birthday yesterday, and I hope the anticipation was worth it, because I started off the day brilliantly: with 5 hours of training followed by 2 hours of health exams. People found out it was my birthday somehow (I'm sure it had nothing to do with my undercurrent of murmured, "It's my birthday" 's) and reacted in shockingly kind ways. My Irish roomie and all her friends dug around in their pockets and purses to make me a grab bag of presents, from a pencil and lip gloss to a card written on a piece of a cigarette carton. Later, one of our bosses made the whole group of teachers sing "Happy Birthday" to me--while I held my urine sample in something called a "pee pole" (I am NOT making that up) for the health check. And after the thorough health check (urine, height, weight, eye test, blood pressure, breathing test, echo cardiogram, blood draw, and chest x-ray)it was off to the pub.

I know, I know. A pub? I spent months' worth of salary to go to Japan so I could sit in a faux Irish pub?

I have no excuses, really, except that all the other teachers have a tradition of going there after training and it's really nice to lounge in the semi-dark atmosphere. Anyway, I was sitting in the pub surrounded by people I hardly knew, but liked--really, who can dislike anyone who digs around in their pocket trash to make you feel better on your birthday? And they again sprang "Happy Birthday" on me. They toasted me (another nice guy bought me a coke) and I found a piece of Japanese cake that we all shared, and we had the best time just sitting around and laughing. We might as well have been friends for years instead of days.

Today was our last day of training, and the day we had to pore through all our contracts. I found out one of my zone leaders is LDS, purely because he came up to me directly and said, "Are you LDS? You're from Utah, so I thought you were. I am too!" He then offered to help me find a ward/branch out here. I keep getting lucky like that with the people I meet; a day or so ago I met an English guy who lived in my prefecture for several years. He said he loved it there, and his enthusiasm fed my own until I hardly felt scared anymore. Still, today was so draining that by the end of it all I barely had enough spirit in me to even go to the pub, which is just as pathetic as it sounds. It was slow at the pub, too; I spent a while listening to a friend from Galway explain how he just came for a laugh and fully expects to be fired or to have quit within a week, which doesn't bother him in the slightest. His carefree attitude infects everyone around him, and even though his accent is tough to understand sometimes, he's always surrounded by people 'cus of that.

Everything changed when the pub started a dance party in the lower level, though. One supervisor made it his goal to get all of us on the dance floor, and if you knew how persuasive he could be you wouldn't even question whether he succeeded. Within minutes we were all dancing, most of us with very little skill but no shame to force us to hold ourselves in check. Immediately all barriers formed by language, culture, and rank were annihilated. We were bumping our hips with our supervisors one side and Japanese strangers on the other. We all cheered each other on, we all mimicked each others' moves, we all sang to the best songs. It was a mass of frenetic joy and I don't think a single one of us felt shy--the best send-off imaginable. For fun I started doing the dorkiest move I could think of: the one where you put one hand behind your head, forming a triangle with your arm, and lift the other leg up so your other hand holds on to your ankle and jerk your leg towards and away from your chest like some poor half-formed bird. I'm sure you've all seen it, but no one there had, and it was my ticket to 15 minutes of fame. Our supervisor started doing it, and a well-dressed Japanese couple started doing it, giggling and urging each other on like teenagers. I loved it. I loved every second of it. They made sure I was watching and cheering them on, and when they were done the gentleman led me in an impromptu ballroom-style dance, holding only the tips of my fingers. I was able to follow him alright (thank you, Social Dance 101) and at the end he even gave me an light hug that was more like a brush of collarbones.

Tomorrow I head out to Iide-machi to set up my apartment and begin the real work. If it's anything near as fun as training was, I don't think I'll ever want to stop.