Safety, trust, and Marci.

Happy birthday, oniisan, big brother.

It's most remarkable how safe I feel here. I feel more comfortable walking down dark corridors alone at night in Japan than I do even walking to Masonic Home in Louisville at night, with my ferocious dog. Last weekend Corey and I were trapped in Kyobashi prefecture of Osaka after we narrowly missed the last train home. We snaked through shady alleys of closing businesses but never once did I feel any threat like I would in an unfamiliar area at home-- even with a muscle machine like Corey at my side. Nobody even threw a strange remark in our direction. Last evening I wandered around Hirakatashi but hundreds of other young women were out alone on the streets as well, immersed in their cell phone activity, oblivious to their surroundings. It must be nice to grow up in a society that doesn't implant that "gitchy" feeling in everyone (Remember: if someone grabs your ankles from under your car... Remember: if you're not careful with the coin return slot... Remember: if you make eye contact with anybody...). Japanese people have other kinds and degrees of trust issues, of course, but at least they can trust each other in that regard.

In any case, I miss my dog terribly.