Saturday, August 30--Potty Mouth

With Jim out of town, I took the opportunity to sort and organize the owner’s manuals that I found stuffed in a drawer in the kitchen when we moved in. There are the typical manuals you’d expect to find in any home—stove, refrigerator, dishwasher, A/C units, water heater, etc. The one that caught me off guard was the tome for the operation of the TOILET. There is absolutely no reason any human being should need operating instructions for a toilet. However…once you see our toilets, you will understand the necessity for an instruction book of this size. Both our upstairs and downstairs toilets are high-tech, but the one upstairs is definitely the high-end model.

Jim calls it the Captain Kirk toilet, because it has at least as many buttons and knobs as the Starship Enterprise. It’s quite possible that we can actually fire phasers from this toilet, although we’ll never figure it out because all of the buttons are labeled in Kanji.

Even without the instructions, I can tell just by sitting on it that our toilet has a heated seat (in the States, a heated seat only happens when the person before you has been in there WAY too long--EWWW). But after studying the book, I determined that not only can we adjust the temperature of the seat, we can program it to come on and go off at set times during the day (why waste the electricity if you're at work all day?). Also just by sitting, I can activate the built-in fan—this is the desmell feature, according to the book. After more study (again, someone took pity on the Americans and added a few English words to the diagrams), it appears that our toilet has a built-in bidet, fanny-washer, and air-dryer. Using various buttons and knobs, you can adjust the direction, volume, and temperature of the water spray for the bidet and fanny-washer, as well as the temperature of the air-dryer. There is also a massage function to the fanny-washer and/or bidet. Excuse me, what exactly are we massaging here???

Now here is where the upstairs toilet takes a drastic leap ahead of the technology of the downstairs toilet. It comes with a REMOTE CONTROL. Why in heaven’s name do you need a remote control for a toilet? Where else are you going to possibly be when you need your fanny washed? It’s not like being too lazy to get up from the couch to change the TV channel. You are already sitting on top of the fanny-washer! The on button is right beside you!! Why the remote?!? What exactly is the range on this remote? I’d hate to be in there when Jim is in the mood to be a jokester. I think I will remove the batteries and hide the remote, just in case….

Friday, August 29--Trash Talkin'

The other day someone told me the reason they moved out of their house and back to the base was because of the trash. What? What about the trash? Now I know…

The Japanese are very concerned about the environment and conservation, partly because their country is a small series of islands, and they realize resources are limited. As a result, they have implemented measures to protect the environment, reduce pollution, and conserve resources. Hence, the trash. We knew from our trip to Tokyo last summer that trash was sorted—at McDonald’s your drink cup went in one can and the lid and straw went in another. At the zoo, there were several different garbage cans, although I couldn’t read them. Okay, not entirely true—several said PET, and I thought it was extremely strange they would have so many cans for dog poo, when pets weren’t allowed in the zoo. Turns out PET is a specific type of recyclable plastic (water bottles—they have a little 1 in the triangle on the bottom). Duh.

That is only the tip of the iceberg. Our housing agent gave us an eight-page packet of directions for the trash. Oh crap. Trash must be sorted into five different categories for pick-up during the week—burnable, non-burnable, PET bottles, other plastics, and bottles/cans. Each type of trash must be placed in a clear plastic bag and carried on its assigned day to the garbage station at the end of the street. If your trash is not sorted appropriately, the trash men will slap a huge yellow sticker on your bag and leave it at the pickup station (it could be worse…in neighborhoods where they pick up garbage at the curb, they will carry the offending bag with its yellow sticker right to your door and leave it for all the neighbors to see). If your bag is stickered, you must take it home, open it up, figure out what you did wrong, and resort it. Ahhh, the pressure! Not to mention the valuable floor space in my kitchen is being overrun with trash bags/cans!

But wait. We aren’t done sorting yet. There are six different categories for pickup on Saturday! Newspapers, magazines, cardboard boxes, drink cartons, mixed papers, and clothing/rugs. These items must be bundled and left in specific spots on your driveway for pickup.

What about bulky waste? Items more than 30 cm in length cannot be put out with the regular trash. You must call the Environment Clean Center to arrange a date, time, and location for pickup, then go to a convenience store to purchase a Bulky Waste Collection Sticker, write your name clearly on the sticker, affix it to the front of the waste, and put the waste out on the prearranged date. Each item must have its own sticker, and has its own fee for collection (rice cooker ¥250, Buddhist altar ¥750).

I won’t even get into hazardous waste (batteries, paint, cleaners) or old appliances, TVs, and computers… I plan to ship all of that back to the States when our tour is up and get rid of it there!

Thursday, August 28--Meeting the Neighbors

It is customary when you move into a new house in Japan to take small gifts to your neighbors. This is to apologize for stirring up dust and disturbing them while you are moving in. Gifts don’t have to be extravagant—something from your hometown, a hand towel or soap (to clean up all that dirt you’ve stirred up), American chocolate, homemade treats. It’s more the thought that counts. So, in preparation for this day, I made fudge and peanut butter candy, and packaged it all up neatly in gift bags. I have been as nervous about delivering these gifts as I was about taking the driving test! I know exactly three Japanese sentences appropriate for meeting people, I am not sure about the bowing tradition, and the last thing I want to do is offend the people we will be living among for the next three years! Adding to the stress is the whole setup of the house. You don’t go to the front door to ring the doorbell. Each house has a gate at the street, and the doorbell is located at the gate. Inside the house is an intercom with a camera, where the homeowner can ascertain who exactly is ringing the bell. If the person inside speaks only Japanese, and the person outside speaks only English, this could be a very awkward situation. Luckily, Jim had his wits about him and had a great plan.

The very first day we had come to look at the house—before we even had keys to get inside—one of the ladies from across the street came over to introduce herself. She speaks English, and though she is technically not a neighbor (the houses straight across and on either side are your neighbors), Jim felt we should include her in the gift giving because she made the effort to introduce herself that first day. He also had the foresight to suggest we take her gift over first—probably because we knew she spoke English and that would be an easy first stop. It didn’t turn out as easy as planned—when we rang the bell at the gate, her husband, who speaks very little English, came on the intercom speaking rapid Japanese. Jim managed to say konbanwa (good evening), but then we both stood there opening and closing our mouths like fish out of water. For what seemed like hours, but was actually less than a minute, we stood there gaping and fidgeting while the husband continued to try to figure out in Japanese what we wanted. Finally, Yasuko came out the door full of apologies, and we breathed a huge sigh of relief. She came to the gate to chat and accepted her gift, then (HALLELUJAH!!) offered to go with us to the other houses. Thank you, thank you, thank you!! She took charge, rang the bell at each house, then explained in Japanese to the voice coming from the intercom why we were there. Turns out, the occupants of the three houses across the street all speak English to some extent, so introductions went pretty smoothly. Only one of the houses beside ours is occupied at the moment, and that family does not speak English, so Yasuko’s willingness to translate was especially appreciated.

Once all of the gifts were delivered, we retreated to our kitchen to make dinner and revel in the successful completion of our task (I for one was nearly giddy with relief— like a huge weight had been lifted). Not fifteen minutes later, our doorbell rang, and our camera showed it was Yasuko standing at the gate. Skipping the whole intercom ordeal, I went straight outside to find that she had drawn a map of the homes we had visited, and had labeled each house with the names of the neighbors (obviously she picked up on the fact that I was not processing or storing information very well during the introductions). I can already see that this woman’s kindness and willingness to help are going to be invaluable during our stay in this neighborhood.

Tuesday, August 26--You Learn Something New Every Day

In an effort to learn as much as possible about our new home and how to take care of it properly, I signed up for a class entitled (appropriately) “Your Japanese Home.” A Japanese native taught the class, and helped to alleviate some fears while inspiring some new ones. Apparently, it is not a matter of if your home will mold or mildew, it is a matter of when. In an effort to stave off the inevitable for as long as possible, we learned about all kinds of dehumidifiers, electric and otherwise.

The tatami room is the one room in a house where Americans have the potential to cause the most costly damage. Between the tatami (grass) mats on the floor, the shoji screens in front of the sliding door, and the fusama room dividers, I am especially grateful that we have no small children or large dogs!

We learned about the proper way to use the bathroom—you should have separate slippers outside of the toilet room so as not to contaminate your house slippers. If you want to take a bath in the tub (which can be automatically filled for you either by a switch in the kitchen or by setting a timer so it will be ready when you come in from a long day at work), you must first take a shower. To take a proper Japanese shower, you should sit on a small plastic upside-down bucket, so as not to splash your dirty water into the clean water of the tub (the shower is not enclosed, and is right next to the tub). When you are done in the tub (soaking only, no bubble bath or soap lest you cause thousands of yen in damage to the recirculation system), leave the water for the next person. With a simple touch of another button, the water in the tub will be reheated in preparation for the next person in line. I’m not sure how much sharing of the bathwater there will be in this house, but I can guarantee during the cold winter, I will be reheating my own water and spending hours in the tub!

After the classroom instruction, we went on a field trip to the Daiei, which is a local shopping mall. We were shown many Japanese products that will be useful to keeping our home clean, comfortable, and smelling great (don’t confuse the room air freshener with the one meant specifically for the bathroom, or your Japanese guests will laugh at you). It’s interesting to notice the difference in packaging of Japanese products compared to similar American products. For example, bug spray (either for spraying the house/yard or for spraying bodies) in Japan comes in cans with colors we normally associate with babies—pale blue and green. Big contrast from American bug spray in its black, red, yellow, dark green, or orange packaging.

Dinner tonight turned out to be a very pleasant surprise. The Officer’s Club had been closed for renovations since we arrived, and had its grand reopening this past weekend. We decided to try it out for dinner tonight, and walked in on Mongolian BBQ night. We’d heard of this in the States, but neither of us had ever tried it before—boy, were we missing out! Basically, you create your own meal from the ingredients laid out before you—tons of vegetables, every kind of meat you can imagine, a dozen spices, and twice that many sauces. You pile everything you want into a big bowl, and they whisk it off to the kitchen to cook it up for you. Mine turned out delicious, if I do say so myself. Unfortunately, I have no idea what I put in it, so there’s no way I’ll ever recreate it!

Sunday, August 24--Maybe We Won't Starve Afterall

Jim’s birthday was Tuesday, and since we were still in the hotel, the best dessert I could manage was a chocolate pudding pie. Not the same as a birthday cake. So this morning I set out to conquer the Japanese oven. We lucked out and got a model that is large enough to hold a 9” X 13” pan, perfect for making a cake. This oven is like nothing I’ve ever seen before—and I’m not just talking about the size. It is a convection oven/broiler/microwave combination, and you’ve got to push the right combination of buttons to get the function you want. Plus, like everything else outside of the United States, it’s metric—the temperature setting is in Celsius. Luckily, someone had taped a conversion chart next to the temperature knob. I spent 30 minutes studying the instruction manual, with its cartoon-like pictures and sporadic English words handwritten by someone who had taken pity on the American folks who cycle through this house. Finally, I got the temperature set and the oven turned on to preheat, but apparently there is no way to turn off the convection fan. I remember horror stories about Grandma Walker trying to make peanut butter brownies in the convection oven at the school and blowing the batter all out of the pans, so I didn’t have a really good feeling about the outcome of this endeavor.

Once the oven was preheated, I put the pan in and set the timer for the 32 minutes recommended on the cake mix box. I was worried about the fan, so in five minutes I planned to turn the pan around so the batter would blow evenly back to the other side. Well, the oven fits a 9” X 13” pan, but there is no extra room for reaching in with potholders to grab the hot pan. I tried sliding out the rack, but it is not on a fixed track like American ovens—pull it out too far and the whole thing tips forward and crashes onto the open door. Luckily it only had about two inches to fall and I was able to keep the cake pan from careening off onto the floor. After about five minutes of finagling (and letting all of the heat out of the oven), I got the pan turned and was back in business. I checked again in another five minutes to see if I needed to turn the pan once more to keep the cake level, and the top was already looking like a cake that had been baking for half an hour! A frantic run to the internet to look up “baking cakes in a convection oven” and I discovered that I should have reduced the temperature 25-50 degrees from what the box recommended. I turned down the temperature and in an attempt not to have the top of the cake become charcoal, covered the whole thing with foil. I paced nervously back and forth, pulling the cake out about every ten minutes to check for doneness, and finally after about 70 minutes, the knife came out clean. The cake looked more or less like it was supposed to, only a little less fluffy, and a bit lopsided. Once it was cooled and frosted, it even tasted more or less like it was supposed to. The only trouble is, I have no idea how long it really takes to bake a cake in a convection oven. Did it take so long because I reduced the temperature, or because I was constantly opening the door and letting all of the heat out? I don’t see it going any differently next time—I will still have to turn the pan so the batter doesn’t all blow to one side, and I will still be constantly checking to see if it’s done. Will I ever know how long it takes to bake a cake?

A glutton for punishment, I broiled steaks for dinner. Turned out to be much less stressful than the cake baking. The broiler/convection combination is actually a great idea, and the steaks came out perfectly cooked and amazingly tender. Maybe this cooking thing won’t be so bad….

Saturday, August 23--The Great Escape

We did it! After 38 days, we are done living in hotels! We officially checked out this morning, and headed to our new house to await delivery of the desks we purchased this week at the NEX. We are very excited about these desks—not only were they very reasonably priced, but they will fit perfectly in the room we have designated as the office (previously believed to be the 6’ X 9’ room on the floor plan, it is actually closer to 10’ X 10’). Our excitement did dim somewhat when we opened the boxes and saw how many pieces they contained. We knew these desks required some assembly, but imagine our surprise when we pulled out piece AA! That doesn’t even include the gazillion screws, fasteners, drawer slides, and other assorted hardware. Now I understand why the desks were so reasonably priced!! But we are nothing if not persistent, and six hours and several choice words later, we have two fully assembled, fully functional desks!

We finished our building project just in time to clean up and head out for our first official poker game in Japan. It was a smallish game—only eight of us, and made me miss the gang back home. It will take a while to break in this new crowd and get used to how they play. Looking forward to hosting a game once our stuff gets here…only we’re not sure where everyone is going to park….

Friday, August 22--Move In, Part I

Japanese movers are models of efficiency. Granted, they were only bringing us limited quantities of loaner furniture, but they were in and out within 45 minutes. Queen-size bed (frame assembled, mattress and box spring in place), dresser, 2 nightstands, couch, 2 chairs, 2 end tables, coffee table, lamps, kitchen table with 4 chairs, washer and dryer. They would have even had the washer and dryer hooked up and ready to use if the drain in the laundry room hadn’t been running slow (yes, they tested that before hooking up the washer). All this while sidestepping the men who were running all over the inside and outside of the house hooking up the phone and the internet. Also keep in mind that every time they entered the house they took off their shoes, and every time they went back out to the truck, they put their shoes back on. It will be interesting to see how they do when they deliver and unpack our stuff. I am sure the wads of paper and rolls of tape that were used during the packing will slow them down a bit, but I expect it to be a totally organized and fairly speedy process.

There wasn’t much for us to do after the movers left except rearrange some of the stuff we’d brought over from the hotel earlier in the week. We waited around for the housing agent to come over with the plumber to fix the drain in the laundry room (have to order a part), then went on a grocery run. Once the fridge was stocked, and the dry goods were stored in the floor (another ingenious use of space—storage lockers in the floor, where it is cool), it was back to the hotel to finish packing up our stuff—moving out tomorrow!!

Friday, August 15--Irony

We slept in this morning, then drove our semi-legal vehicle (it failed inspection—waiting for parts to come in next week) to Cinnabon (yep, just like home) for a truly healthy start to the day. Next, we wandered through the high school gym, where a furniture bazaar was being held. They had some pretty pieces, but we were about to suffocate in the unventilated gym, so left empty-handed. The next bazaar is in October—hopefully the weather will be more conducive to shopping then.

We were very brave and ventured out on town in the car for the first time on our own. Armed with three different sets of directions, we were able to successfully navigate to our house. Jim has been discussing the merits of a GPS with folks at work. We used ours all the time at home, and have kinda gotten spoiled. Apparently there are a couple models that have Japanese maps, but not all are in English. A GPS in Kanji would be absolutely zero help to us. Of course, with the Japanese system of numbering buildings, I don’t know if anything can help (even veteran taxi drivers get lost). Addresses consist of the name of the neighborhood, the number of the sub-area of the neighborhood, the number of the block, and finally the number of the building.Buildings, however, are not numbered in order along a street like they are in the States. The building number refers to when it was constructed on the block (not the street)—so you can have 1 right next door to16, and could potentially have 1 right across the street from 1, since they are on different blocks. Anyway…

We made it to the house, arriving with the 12 boxes of can’t-live-without-it items we had mailed to ourselves before leaving Virginia and a couple rolls of shelf paper I purchased for the kitchen cabinets. The temperature in the house was well into the mid 80s—the Japanese, for all their frugalness and environmental consciousness, do not believe in insulating their houses. After firing up all of the air conditioners (each room has its own, which could be a very nice feature), Jim commenced with unpacking the 12 boxes while I tackled the kitchen cabinets. Here is the irony of the day—in a land where peepholes in hotel doors are four feet from the floor, and the hand-straps for stand-up riders clock me in the forehead every time I get off the train, I am going to have to purchase a step stool to reach my kitchen cabinets. They are mounted all the way to the ceiling, and I cannot reach them. Who would have thunk it?? At first glance, I thought I would have plenty of cabinet space in the kitchen—it looks like there are lots of drawers/doors. On closer inspection, I have exactly one cabinet (at an easy-access height) that is wide enough for dinner plates. All of my five drawers are just over six inches wide—none of them will hold a silverware tray (guess not a high priority for the Japanese, since they use CHOPSTICKS!!!). I am not at all sure how dishes, pans, small appliances, and food are all going to fit simultaneously in this kitchen. Guess I will have to get creative—lucky for me the 100-yen store has a gazillion storage gizmos!

The day ended with an impromptu group dinner at an Indian restaurant on Kamakura Beach. Seven of us enjoyed lassis, nan bread, rice, and various chicken dishes. The Japanese love international food, although they often “fix” it to suit their tastes. The restaurant we went to was owned by an Indian family, so it was true Indian food. We haven’t been to an Italian restaurant yet, but I understand that in most, many of the items on the menu have a distinctly Japanese twist (i.e. seafood) and are served in very un-Italian portions!

Tomorrow’s plan…REST!!

Thursday, August 14--D-Day

THE DRIVING TEST
Jim said, “Volunteer to go first—you’ll only have to make a couple of turns, then you’ll pull over for the next person to have a turn.”
Jim said, “Volunteer to go first—you won’t have to back up.”
The reality—none of the other three drivers showed up at my appointment time, so I was the only one in the car! I had no choice but to go first, but it was way more than a couple turns, and I did have to back up! Good news though. I stayed in the correct lane the whole time, I did not hit any pedestrians, buses, parked cars, scooters, or bikes, and I only turned on the windshield wipers instead of the turn signal one time. The testing official’s final words to me, “We give you license. Just remember use mirrors when back up and watch speed signs.” Honestly, once I’m on the streets of Japan, I think those two things will be the least of my worries. But we’ll see. I have a valid Japanese license and except for inspections, insurance, and a mountain of paperwork, I have a car. Sometime in the next two weeks, I expect to be mobile once more!

Wednesday, August 13--The Old Homestead

Jim did the walk-through of our new house with the rental agent yesterday and got the keys! I had to take Alina to the vet for her initial quarantine visit, so I couldn’t go. Our sponsor took us out at lunch-time today, though, and I finally got to go inside our new home. It is very nice, and bigger than the floor plan led us to believe. Since we were on a time schedule, I took pictures, but I didn’t get out the tape measure to measure each room. Jim paced off the biggest rooms while I snapped pictures. The master bedroom appears to be about 13’ by 15’ and the spare bedroom that the floor plan said was 6’ by 9’ is actually closer to 10’ by 10’. I can work with rooms that size! There are plenty of big closets, and an attic that is wallpapered! In fact, all of the walls are wallpapered. Apparently the Japanese find it easier to repaper than to repaint. Bad news, though--the bathroom floors are raised, just like the hotel! I believe it has something to do with the drain system, but I would be very interested to look at Japan's statistics for accidents/fatalities that occur in the bathroom!! We will have our temporary furniture delivered Friday of next week—our own things aren’t expected to arrive until September 15 or later. But hopefully next weekend we will be able to move out of the hotel.

Tuesday-Friday, August 5-8--ICR Class

We had our mandatory Intercultural Relations course this week. There were approximately 70 people in the class, and it was led by a Japanese woman, so she was able to answer most of our questions about language, rules, and customs.

We learned that Japan is about the size of California, but has half of the population of the U.S. Those 127.5 million people are crammed into only 19% of Japan’s land area—the rest is forest and farmland! We also got a brief lesson about the history of Japan, an amazing feat considering Japanese history spans 12,000 years.

We learned about food (not all sushi is seafood!), chopsticks (do not stand them upright in your rice bowl or pass food from your chopsticks to another person’s chopsticks—these imitate funeral rituals and are very offensive), gift-giving (if you are invited to open a gift while the giver is watching—this is unusual—don’t rip off the paper like a fiend), and shoes (take them off in the genkan before you step into someone’s house).

We learned how to get from point A to point B on the trains. Jim and I felt pretty comfortable with this already, since we used the trains exclusively while we were in Tokyo last summer, but we learned the advantages of buying a PASMO pass versus purchasing individual tickets for each trip. We were also warned to avoid rush hour, because there are men whose sole job is to push people onto the train. If you are on that train, you will not need to hold onto your bags—you are crammed so tightly next to the people around you that your belongings will remain suspended should you let go of them.

We learned about the three different forms of Japanese writing. Kanji is actually Chinese characters, while Hiragana is the phonetic spelling of native Japanese words, and Katakana is the phonetic spelling of foreign words that have been introduced into Japanese language. Japanese writing has a mixture of all three types of characters. I might get to the point where I have memorized the characters for some frequently used words, but I really doubt that I will be able to read or write Japanese before we leave. I would like to speak at least some though, and in our class we learned some useful phrases (and their correct pronunciation):
Pardon me. (Sumimasen.)
Where is the bathroom? (Toire wa dokodesuka?)
Thank you very much! (Doumo arigtou gozaimasu!)

Perhaps the most important thing we learned this week is that the Japanese realize we are Americans and don’t expect us to know everything about their culture and traditions. They appreciate our efforts to speak Japanese, and as long as we practice general courtesy and manners, they are more than happy to help us figure things out.

Friday was, for most, the pay dirt of this four-day class. We took our written driving test, the first step in getting a Japanese driver’s license. Even though the Japanese drive on the wrong, I mean left :-), side of the road, most of the rules are the same as home. Not all of the road signs are the same though, so that took some study, and the speed limits are in kilometers rather than miles per hour. The test was 50 questions, and you could only miss 10 to still pass. Over one-fourth of our class failed. Once we found out who passed, we were able to sign up for the driving portion of the test for the following week. I have never driven a right-hand drive car on the left side of the road, yet there will be absolutely zero opportunity to practice before my test next Thursday. Without a driver’s license, we can’t move into our house—no pressure!! Jim takes his test on Monday, so I will pick his brain about what to expect. Please let me not hit any pedestrians, bikes, or scooters…

Saturday-Sunday, August 2-3--First Weekend

We spent part of the weekend exploring our new surroundings, but since our primary form of transportation at this point is walking and the temperatures remain unholy, it was not a very thorough exploration. We did catch a ride up to our new neighborhood, and looked through the windows at our new house—will still be a while before we are given keys.

Had a great dinner at a curry restaurant. You choose the type of meat you want (Jim and I both went with the thin sliced pork), the amount of rice you want (300 grams) and the spice level. I went with the regular spice, but Jim tried level 3. I think it took him a bit by surprise—there was a good deal of sniffling as the spiciness got to him. It is hard to imagine what a level 10 must be like. It was hard to understand the translation on the English menu, but I think you might have to have a doctor’s note to order the level 10. Maybe paramedics on standby?? Mizu o kudasai!! (Water please!!)

Haven’t really had jet lag I don’t think, but we are both very tired. If we are still awake at 9:30 p.m. we are doing well. My theory is the heat is sucking the life out of us. It also doesn’t help that Japan is not on daylight savings time, and the sun is shining in our hotel windows at 4:30 each morning. Of course, this also means it is dark around 7:00 p.m., and my body thinks that means bed time. Oyasumi nasai! (Good night!)

Friday, August 1--Acclimating

I fully intended to make the best of the situation at the Japanese hotel—after all, I survived the first night without losing any teeth or gaining any bruises in the bathroom. But an opportunity to move into an American-sized hotel presented itself, and I must say Jim and I both breathed a sigh of relief. We quickly packed up all of our stuff and transferred to a hotel with two “real” queen-size beds, a double dresser, a TV with American channels, a closet, a kitchenette, and a bathroom with a two-inch step-down (can’t win with the bathroom floors!).

The weather here defies my limited meteorological understanding. The temperatures are very similar to home this time of year, but holy crap, is it hot! When the actual temperature is in the 80s, the feel-like temperature is 99. The sun feels more intense than back home, which it shouldn’t, given we are at nearly the same latitude. The humidity is oppressive. I guess everything combines in just the right way to create total misery. Within moments of stepping outside in clean, fresh, DRY clothes, we are dripping wet. I am discovering sweat glands I did not know I had, and quickly running out of dry undergarments!