Have I ever told you about the guy that comes around every 3 or so weeks to deliver to me the message of god? Well, it's true. There is this man, a very nice guy, who buzzes my door at least once a month to talk to me about the man upstairs. Only, and many of you know this about me, I don't believe in the man upstairs. For one, I live on the top floor (ok, bad joke). But really I don't--believe in god that is, I do live on the top floor. But yet, this guy is undeterred. Good thing I kinda like him.
You might have thought that by moving to Japan I would have escaped the land of telemarketers and door-to-door messengers of god. And you'd be right about the telemarketers. I don't get phone calls unless it's Amy, my mother, aunt Judy, a friend, the newspaper lady needing to collect her money, or occasionally the Kencho. It's been very nice being able to pick up the phone without having to let the machine get it.
But back to the messenger....The first time he came by was probably about October or November of 2003. He was with some lady and she did most of the talking. They told me their mission and asked me a few questions and all was going like a normal visit from these creatures. Then it hit me, "Hang on a minute, I'm in Japan. What are they doing here?" They were Japanese, or appeared to be, but she was speaking excellent English. It was a bit strange after being used to the chopped up English of my teachers and students. And then I thought, "And how'd they know an English speaker lived here?" So I asked them and she said, "Oh, we just look at the mailboxes below and if their is a foreign name we knock on their door." I couldn't help but feel foiled again.
In Bakersfield one day, I was at a gas station trying to pay for what I'd just put into my car. I was standing at the counter waiting for the lady to finish up with another customer when the customer's sidekick turned to me and said something about god and me and a church. I just accepted his well wishes and pamphlets and went back to my car with a little less money--for the gas, I didn't make a donation--and some literature about a church up the street. And as I walked to my car he and his friend drove out of the station, waving to me from a big van that on the side said, "Assembly of God" or "Church of Christ" or "Big Al's Faith Healing," I forget which.
Anyway, when I got in my car I felt a bit stupid for not telling this guy how I really think. And I thought about the sense of self-respect I might have if from now on I was to tell these people how I really feel about the issue. So I decided that I'd change my ways, that from then on I would tell all would be messengers of god that I am an atheist.
I am not an atheist who reads the literature, goes to meetings, or takes an active role in the atheist community (is there one?). Hell, no. I would despise that just as much as I despise these messengers telling me what I should or shouldn't believe--in principle, I mean; for if you must know, these people are always quite pleasent to me and as individuals I have nothing against them. No, I am just a guy who sees no reason to believe in , or evidence of, a god. I might as well believe in witches and bigfoot and Santa, too, if I were to believe in god. And if this offends anyone, so be it. I don't get offended by people who tell me they do believe in a god.
Anyway, from that day on I have stayed true to my word--except once when I was with Amy in downtown Kofu and got accosted by a guy whose English was good but demeanor I didn't feel like confronting at the time. But besides that one time I have told all messengers that I don't believe in god. They usually look a bit shocked--a look I like to see--but then all want to know why.
In addition to self-respect, part of my original plan in telling them the truth was to stop the conversation short. I figured they'd see the determination in my eyes about my beliefs and go find someone else to recruit. But it all seems to have backfired; for, instead of giving up on me and leaving, they want to know why I think the way I do. And this inevitably leads to a more legthly conversation than the old tried and true "I'm happy with my own religion" that Amy gives them.
Two guys in Bakersfield came to my door once to tell me a few things. You know the type, clean cut boys of about 16 or 17 years, dressed in white shirts and a tie, dark pants, sweating from riding their bikes from the Kingdom to deliver their message to me (I just noticed that message is spelled with an a after the ss and messenger is spelled with an e after the ss--what a pain in the butt). Anyway, they knocked and I answered. "Hello, I am John and this is David and we're here to tell you about the message of god."
I just looked at them, ready to pouce.
"Have you heard about the word of god?" they asked me.
"Yeah, I've heard a few things," I said thinking back to the gas station and the few times my mom made me attend Sunday school.
"Oh. May we ask about your religion? What are you?"
"Yeah, sure. I don't believe in god," I said in a very polite and satisfying way.
"Oh. Really. I've never met a person...uh, like that." His friend agreed and they both looked at me as if I might attack at any moment.
"Nope. I guess I might call myself an atheist, but I'm not in a group or anything." At this they seemed to relax, possibly in the knowledge that there wasn't a meeting of the First Congregation of Non-Believers going on in my kitchen. "Well, what do you think? I mean, what's the meaning of life then if there is no god?" He asked this in a unconfrontational way and I obliged.
"There is no real meaning to life," I said, "It's all what you decide make of it."
"Oh," they said and proceeded to ask questions and make comments. As it turned out we stood in the doorway for about 10 mintes talking and when they left I have to admit it felt more like I had tried to recuit them than them me. They'd even asked if they could come back some time and talk to me. "Sure!" I'd told them.
And so, from that experience I've decided that my reaction to these people is a good one. They try me and I try them. It sure doesn't save time but it's much more enjoyable and I think that, and I can't verify this, but I think that perhaps they come away from the short conversation thinking that even people who don't believe in god (while still going straight to hell) are at least worthy of some respect. I don't know, maybe I'm way off base here--in my assumption of what they are getting out of it, not my unfaith.
I think one reason I am willing to talk to these people without being rude and shutting the door in their faces stems from a friend I had for a few months while I lived in Texas, Ben. Ben was a born-again Christian. Ben was a bit over the top when it came to Jesus Christ. Ben was determined to change my mind. But Ben was a very nice guy. I liked him. We went fishing and out eating and visited his grandparents house in the next town over (which was a large, old thing of beauty perhaps some 100 years old or more); all in all we were good friends. But our car rides and meals together were full of him telling me why god existed and why Christ was the savior and me telling him that there was no god and that at death it was all over. Good times we had.
But from my friendship with Ben I confirmed, or learned if I didn't already know, that two people can have two wildly different sets of beliefs and still be friends and treat each other with respect--sorry if this sounds preachy, no pun and all, but it's true and it sure would be nice if the world would learn this (to sound like a beauty pageant contenstant).
So with that in mind I always talk to this guy who comes to my door over here (the lady has gone--no idea where). He is very nice and asks me about my time in Japan and I, in turn, ask him about his life in Yamanashi--he's from the island of Kyushu. I think at first all this chitchat startled him, "Why is this guy who doesn't belive in god asking me about my life and family and friends?" But now it is quite friendly and nice. We spend a few moments catching up and then he tells me something about the bible and asks me for my opinion, which I give without censorship. I honestly think it amusses him in a way that a non-believer can be so friendly and thoughtful. But to me it is nothing. I was brought up to respect people no matter who they are. Simple as that.
He also always leaves me with two small magazines, too, which I am sure we've all seen at some point in our lives. One is called Awake, I forget the name of the other. I usually read some part of them, but always get dismayed when the slightly interesting article I am reading cites the Encycolpedia Britannica as its source for some piece of information (how about a primary source?). And they have pictures too. Of these there are three types: the destruction pictures which show our modern world in the throes of some calamity, the drawings of ancient people with long beards and walking sticks and rags for clothes, and the pictures of modern people which depict a small group of people, always slightly ethnically diversified and dressed well, sitting around on very nice furniture or very green grass looking like they are discussing the good book and not whether the Jets will be able to stop the Packers this Sunday.
And so with all that said, I wish each and every one of you a Merry Christmas, Seasons Greetings, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year (or whatever we are calling it these days).

Today begins a three day run here at the Kencho and then I am off for two weeks. A day off on the Emperor's birthday (the 23rd), then Hokkaido bound for 6 days, and then back for a week of relaxation and Japanese New Year fun. Gonna be good.

We went out with Yamashita a couple weeks ago. This time he brought his wife and youngest son along for a half day of shopping. I was glad little Massa came as he and I tend to act like big brother/little brother or crazy uncle/hyperactive nephew when we get together. He's eight years old and fun to be around. Our past antics include wrestling sumo style, lessons on the finer art of American football tackling, throwing pinecones at each other in order to make the walk back to the car more exciting, and speaking to each other in our native tongues so that the other has no clue as to what's being said. I've requested that Yamashita send him to America for visits when Amy and I get back but I'm not sure if this will happen. Might wait till he's a little older. Be nice if it happens as living in, or at the very least, visiting other countries is key to education and an appreciation for the "other".
Anyway, we had a great day and ended up back at their house for our usual evening of feasting and drinking. During our discussion of winter vacation they insisted that Amy and I come back just after the New Year so that we can spend the day eating traditional Japanese New Year food, drinking nihonshu (what you call sake), and walking down to the local shrine to partake in hatsumode (I think that's how you'd spell it--it means the first visit to the shine of the new year). I did all this last year with the Yamashitas but Amy was in Oklahoma and undoubtedly didn't eat fish eggs and seaweed, drink sake, or visit a shrine around the New Year holiday. I think she'll like it--well, maybe not the fish eggs.

On Friday evening we had our Kencho bonenkai (bo meaning forget, nen meaning year, and kai meaning party). It started at a hotel in a conference room where we ate appetizers, drank beer and sake, and played bingo for gifts.
Bingo seems to be a bonenkai institution. I played it at at both the Kencho's and Yuda's parties last year, Amy played it at her school's party, and I know of a couple friends that said they also play it at their bonenkais. I'm not sure why this is but it is.
The other staple of the bonenkai tradition seems to be the way they assign seating. You simply walk in, draw a number out of an envelope, and then find the corresponding place. At Yuda's party last year I ended up sitting with a bunch of strangers who didn't speak English. They were all very nice people and although I appreciated their hospitality, after a while it became a real effort trying to make myself understood and trying to understand them. When you don't speak the same language, communication on even the simple things becomes quite difficult and arduous. I don't know how many of you have had your hands tied for any length of time in regards to language but after a while you tend to just want to go home and talk to your turtles (or I do--from time to time).
At last year's Kencho party I ended up sitting at the end of one of the tables across from no one and next to a lawyer whom I'd never seen before because he doesn't work in this office but was at the party because he is somehow affiliated with us. But it was lucky for me because he speaks very good English and we got along extremely well. Then later in the evening, one of the office girls pulled her chair over so she could sit with me and the lawyer. Guess we looked like we were having fun.
Ok, so back to this year where I got even more lucky because I was once again put near the end of the table and was surrounded by all the best speakers of English at the party--Miharu, Naito-san, the lawyer again, and one of the guys in the office who is currently taking English classes and seems willing to try it out on me from time to time. I can't stress enough to you how great this was. Being surrounded by these four made my evening a lot more fun than it would have otherwise been. And this is meant at no knock to the rest of the people in the office--they are all very nice people--but it just meant that I could joke around and be myself more rather than a guy who sits there and has to be overly polite all evening. It is really amazing how much we depend on language. Think about this the next time you go out for dinner and talk to the waiter about what's good, or run to the grocery store and ask the clerk how she's doing as she scans your six-pack and toilet paper just because you are in a good mood, or when you tell the lady at the bank that you want $300 in travelers checks and $500 tranfered to your saving account while you're at it. Language is the glue, baby, strong as epoxy.
Anyway, getting back to Bingo....we were all handed a card as we walked in and took our seating numbers. They were standard cards with five rows of five numbers and the middle space being a free one. At the front of the room was a long table with the prizes. Watanabe-san, my supervisor, was obviously in charge of putting the bonenkai together as it was he who started the whole party with a few words--followed by the main boss, followed by some guy I'd seen only once before at last year's party who gave the kanpai (almost the equivilent of "cheers" in the States) speech--and at the beginning of the game he introduced all the prizes. They ranged from the "number one gift," an IPOD, to gift certificates for various department stores, to two DVDs of Harry Potter, to a couple of plants, to a foot care package, to a large electric heater, to small blankets, to two tickets to Disneyland in Tokyo. And there were probably a few other things that I am forgetting. Oh, and there was a haircurler (or a heated comb as I call them when around Amy--she had to educate me on their true name). I turned to Miharu and told her, "Well, I hope I don't get that," indicating the haircurler to which she answered, "Ah, but a good gift for your girlfriend," and laughed whileI told her, "Yes, I like the way you think."
I didn't want the haircurler for obvious reasons, but I also had two other gifts that I really didn't want. One was the IPOD, believe it or not, because you might remember that last year I won the Playstation2. My thinking here was that last year I'd won an expensive gift and that it should be someone else's turn. Don't want to be the guy that comes here for a couple years and snatches up all the good stuff and then goes home, you know. So I didn't want that. The other thing I really didn't want was the heater because, for one, I don't really need it in my apartment, but mostly because it was quite large and I had no idea how I'd get the thing home on my bike. That would be a slow and difficult task possibly fraught with a few crashes, some blood, and a lot of pain. Not something I wanted to do.
So we played Bingo. Now the way the prizes work was just like last year. You don't get Bingo and then choose what you want, no that would be too easy. Instead you get Bingo and then take a number from an envelope and get the correspondingly numbered gift. I was probably about the eighth person, out of about 25 to 30, to get a Bingo and went up to claim my prize. Unfortunately, the IPOD and the heater were still there, but fortunately, the heated comb was not. Nope, that went to the number two in command of this office--a roughly 50 year old man with the typically straight hair parted on the side that you see on politicians, news anchors, business men, and military officers--not a man who looks like he'll use the tool much. In fact, as I look over to his desk today, yup, still has the straight hair. Perhaps he wrapped it up and gave it to his wife.
So as I reached into the envelope I had a pretty good chance of not getting the heater or the IPOD because there were still many gifts left. But as you might have guessed from my extensive build-up of all this, I got one of them....the heater. And the thing was kinda heavy. Everyone clapped and I turned around to face them and said, "How am I going to get this home? I'm on my bike," which some of the English speakers translated for the others and a volly of ganbattes ("try hard" "good luck") were thrown in my direction. "Thanks, guys," I thought, "Thanks a lot."
But all ended up ok. Turns out that we were allowed to trade gifts. After everything had been claimed Watanabe told us to trade if we could find a good one so I looked around the room trying to see if anyone was eyeing my heater. "I'm open to anything except that damn haircurler," I thought, "But then again, that would be easier to get home." But, after a little searching around the room and networking through Miharu, Naito and I agreed to a trade whereby he would get my heater and I would get his blanket and a second round draft pick at next year's bonenkai. Jokes on him, though, as I won't be here. Ha ha.
After the initial party some of us went to a "number two party" at some little bar where we drank more beer and sake and ate more appetizers. The "gross out the foreigner" food of the night was had at this place when someone ordered up a plate of small but whole squids in an ink sauce that tasted fresh from the sea. And I mean fresh. It smelled like a fishing boat. And I don't think the squids were cooked. Just whole and on a plate in the sauce. Of course, I don't shy away from such challenges and was the first to dip in with my chopsticks, grab a squid and pop in my mouth. Those around me watched as I chewed and swallowed probably thinking to themselves, "Watch his eyes, watch his eyes!" But actually it wasn't bad. Not really good either, but not bad. I'd eat it again, but not a whole plateful. Two or three would be enough if I was a little hungry. Funny thing was that Miharu dipped in and nearly spit it out. She had to take a few gulps of beer to get it down and I teased her saying, "What's wrong, Miharu?" "Eewww, bad taste," she told me. Then I chided her saying that she was Japanese and was supposed to like such things. "No no," she said, "very bad taste."
After this bar we went to two more and eventually the party ended. I don't know what time I got home but I woke up the next morning feeling pretty good considering all the beer and sake I'd poured down. In Japan getting a bit drunk is accepted in a way it is not in the States (one of the reasons I like it here). As long as you maintain some control and just have fun, all is good. I think in the States we still have a lot of the Puritan about us that makes having this kind of fun a bit suspect to many. But I don't wish to get preechy here. I had fun and am a bit sad to realize that it was my last bonenkai. I think the next few months are going to be great and extremely sad at the same time.

Anyway, just about time to get out of here.

Things are coming to a close for this year. I've already visited four of my schools for the last time till January and in the next three days will be closing out the remaining three. Amy and I are quite happy to be going to Hokkaido and to have almost two weeks off. The 23rd is the Emporer's birthday and a national holiday. Then the 24th through the 29th we'll be up on that north island. From the 29th to the 3rd we'll be back here and taking in the Japanese New Year celebrations and customs. And on the 4th we go to Yamashita's place for a day with his family with a day to recover on the 5th. Gonna be a great couple of weeks. I did have to take some vacation time for it but I consider it worth is since five days gets me two weeks off without missing any schools and not having to visit the Kencho so much.

CNN is now is Japan. Or part of it is anyway. Bill Hemmer (sp?) is in Tokyo and is introducing some of the Japanese culture to America. I think this sort of thing is good. I'm betting that many (most?) Americans don't know much about Japan other than that it's where cool technological gadgets come from. That and sushi. Most of what Bill is telling the viewers is old news to me but I happen to be one of the lucky few who has experienced this country first hand. Anyway, I think it's only a three day visit so catch it if you can.

Last week at Sundai I had the little guys work on a letter to Santa--Amy's idea, of course, as she is the real teacher--and it went quite well. I think the students enjoyed it for the most part. Some of their answers to the fill-in-the-blank parts were quite funny. I'm not sure how much of the humor they got but I imagine they got a fair bit. I didn't collect their papers after it was all over. Instead, I just walked around the room as they worked on them and wrote down some of the things that struck me as humorous. The first part of the letter went like this:
Dear Santa Claus,
Christmas is coming and I am looking forward to your visit. This year I would like many things for Christmas:
First of all, ________
And then, ________
Finally, ________
So with that explained here are some of the answers they, and keep in mind that these are 8th graders, gave:
a lot of new suits (bit young for this aren't you?)
my own home
a job (you'll get there soon enough, oh young one)
world peace, world love, much money and absolute power (somehow that last part killed me)
beautiful hair (a young girl whose hair looks nice to me)
I want to go to the movie with my boyfriend.
big brother (uh, that might be a little tough to deliver)
much land, much authority, much money
time machine
height more 15cm (this kid is already tall)
beard (I think I inspired this one)
Santa's clothes
Mentos for a year (yeah, the breath mints)
your reindeer
boyfriend
girlfriend (got this one considerably less than the previous one)
beauty
free time
sleep time (I don't think you'd catch American kids asking for this)
soccer talents
weasel (as in a pet, I guess)
love
Kaoda's Dictionary of Place Names (the name is close, I think, but...what the hell?!)
genius (Santa delivered this to me in my youth too, heh heh)
erase my little sister (this one killed me)

and the number one answer from all three classes.................

hot soup

As you can read, they are quite the creative and funny little junior high schoolers.
There was another section to the letter where they were supposed to list three things they did in the past year to prove to Santa that they were good little boys and girls. Not much of this turned out out to be funny due to a lack in English ability, I guess. But a few were good enough to write down. Keep in mind that these are supposed to be sentences to convince Old Saint Nick to bring you something nice:
I get up at 7:00 this morning. (And....?)
I like natto. (Good. Eat mine. Natto is fermented soybeans and I keep it no secret that it is the only Japanese food that I can't stand.)
I helped bad boys. I didn't believe god. But I'm a dear boy. (This kid is great. One of those kids who doesn't say too much but when he does speak up it's gold.)
I didn't cause any accidents. (That is reason for reward.)

And my favorite from the files of mixed-up word order:

I helped to cook my mother.

Anyway, that exercise went well for the most part. Hope you enjoyed the above.

Well, it's been two weeks since my last entry so I know that some of you have had trouble getting yourselves out of bed in the morning. I have that same feeling at the end of football season. But, rest assured, I am back.
I do have a good excuse for my absence though. Well, perhaps not a good excuse but an excuse nonetheless. Read on.

Last Monday I came to the Kencho with a book to read, a short lesson plan to get done, and every intention to write in here and get you all updated on the latest travails of my life and times in Japan.
But when I got on the computer to do the writing, I wasn't able to log on to the internet. At this point I remembered what a friend, Dilek, who works here at the Kencho had told me. Something about the place installing firewalls. "But," I thought to myself while staring at an all-grey screen, "that shouldn't stop me from being able to visit all sites." I was trying CNN.com, hotmail.com, ESPN.com, etc. and nothing was coming up.
It was here that I began to get a little angry figuring that maybe the computer I normally use had been disconnected from the internet permanently. But just about this time one of the girls noticed my troubles and said something to one of the guys nearby who then came over to me and explained, in 60% understandable English, that the Kencho was now under the influence of firewalls. And went on to say, "For example, violence and sex."
At this I thought to myself, "Ok, but why aren't any of the sites I am trying to bring up coming up." For, if you must know, I was not typing in things like adultxxx.com or killyourlittlesister.org or sandm.fun fun fun. I was, at this time, really trying to check out CNN because I hadn't turned on the tv in the morning before I'd left for this god-forsaken place.
Then he asked me, "What are you trying to see?"
"First I was trying to check out the news at CNN," I told him.
So he went off to his laptop on his desk and then looked over telling me, "CNN is ok," and giving me a smile. So I tried again but it wasn't coming up. It seemed to me that, as I said above, the computer wasn't even hooked up to the world wide web. Now, in the States at this point I would have alerted him or the entire office to my plight. But beings how I'ms in Japan an' all, I ten' ta try ta figure things ou' on my own more. Me being a foreigner an' all.
It's just difficult to get my point across much of the time. And how important are they going to find it that the foreigner can't check the news.
So I went back to my desk to resume reading about Darwin and his exploits in the Galagapos. Certainly he had is harder than I do. Course, everyone on his boat spoke his language.
Anyway, a little while later Miharu came over to use the computer (she's the gal in the office that talks to me more than anyone else, and her English while not perfect is pretty good). I don't know what she does on that computer but whatever it is it wasn't working on this day. So she, being able to speak Japanese, alerted a few guys in the office who came over and pressed buttons while saying things like, "What the?" and "It's not working," all in Japanese, of course. I was just sitting there reading and watching them out of the corner of my eye thinking, "this is what I was trying to tell you earlier, people." Oh, but let the office cutie have trouble and everyone comes to her rescue. Well, it's either that or the language thing again.
So eventually some guy I've never seen before showed up and fixed the thing and Miharu could do her work and I just kept on reading about mutations in cells.
But the real fun comes a little later. You see, you might remember that I mentioned the word firewalls, well, sure enough there were in fact firewalls installed at the Kencho. I know cause I couldn't access my hotmail account. Not only that but I did a Google search for another email account to open so that I would be able to email from work when needed and yahoo and gmail and a few other were all blocked.
But wait, it gets better. I was able to access the blogger site where I go when I want to write here. It came up with no problem. So I opened it up, typed in my password, and clicked into the template that allows me to write and then publish. All was going well and I wrote a medium sized entry (perhaps half an hour's worth) and then hit the publish button. But to my horror the normal screen that follows didn't come up. What did come up was the same screen that was letting me know that the email sites were blocked. So I figured I'd hit the back button and save what I wrote on a word document and then somehow publish it later--I was mostly concerned about saving what I written rather than publishing it at this time--but when I went back the template I had just been writing on was blank.
You'll be happy to know that I contained my anger and still have a job.
So in the end I cannot send emails from work and I cannot post things here.
But lest you think this story ends in my defeat at the hand of some fool sitting atop his high horse decreeing that we of the lower ranks who must feed ourselves can no longer email from work, ha ha, fret not. For I have found a site that I can access from work. And I am able to email and blog. The blogging is a little tricky as I write it there and then have to send it to myself and then copy, paste and publish from home, but the true victory lies in that I can still write it at work.
I also want you to know that I do, in fact, realize that these firewalls were not installed to stop me, personally, from emailing and blogging, but still, it ain't to my liking. I have nothing else to do there. Yet, I am expected to show up when a school tells me not to come.
And as to the reasoning for installing firewalls as it was explained to me with that "For example, violence and sex," I say, "What does email have to do with sex and violence?" And what's more is that I didn't know the Kencho was in the habit of hiring children who needed to be protected from such sites? Hell, who's looking at those sites at work anyway? Save it for home!

Our Thanksgiving get-together went pretty well. There were nine of us and we ate too much, drank enough, watched a bit of football, and laughed a hell of a lot. Hard to go wrong with all of that.
Not much else to say about that except that we might do something similar around Super Bowl time.
For more details, see Amy's journal (link is to the right).

One of the guys from CNN's American Morning will be in Tokyo all next week if you are interested and have the time. It comes on here live in the evenings around 8pm, I think. That would make it 6am on the east coast, 3am on the west.
I watch parts of this show sometimes and lately the guy's co-hosts have been jabbing at him (I think his name is Bill) about speaking the language. They say something like, "How do you say 'good morning'?" And he says, "I don't know," to which they reply, "Ohio," with a thick American accent (oh-hi-yo). Makes me feel good about my Japanese abilities. At least I can sound Japanese in the few things I say. More than once I have walked into a teachers' room and said "Ohiyo gozaimas" to the two or three people in there who are not looking in my direction and they will say it back to me. But when they turn to see me they act shocked to see it's me and I can only take this as a compliment on my excellent ability to say that phrase and sound like any Japanese guy doing it.
Give me 20 more years and I just might be able to have a real conversation. But I tell you, those people who say you can just move to a foreign country and "pick up" the language are the same people who diligently study every evening. Osmosis is a myth in the world of foreign language acquisition.

That is all.