So this weekend was filled with high highs and low lows, ever since I have come to Japan it has been an amalgamation of the two, no exceptions.

In my last post, I wrote that I was going to the eye doctor, and it would be the highlight of my week, but what I failed to mention is that I have been almost blind for the past month. 

Low point. Since the end of October, I have been battling an eye infection, which has somehow morphed into two different eye infections, thus, not allowing me to wear contacts, in addition to this (sasuga) my glasses are broken.  Anyway, I had to go to the eye doctor here in Japan, which as you know, unless you have not lived in Japan, includes waiting in a hospital, surrounded by a pool of sick people, for at least a few hours, until the doctor is ready to see you. 

Basically, it is a pain in the butt. But for me, I was super excited to see the doc again so he could tell me what was wrong with my eye this time, since it had been hurting and filled with these unbecoming red veins (yuck). 

Anyway, I get in my car that icy Saturday morning, feeling chipper, and turn my car key and my car won’t start (Sasuga or as the First Princess likes to say ”Sausage.”).  I sit there in disbelief and try again a few more times, but to no avail.  I end up calling a taxi to go to the hospital. Next low point.

High Point. The second Princess came to rescue me in her car after my exam.  She picked me up outside the hospital, where I was now holding two bottles of megusuri (eye medicine).  She took me to the conbini where I bought a cup of coffee to cry into and then home to wait for the car company to come over and fix my car.

Two guys came over, in the rain to fix my car, I felt kind of bad about this, so gave them three bags of microwave American popcorn to take home and enjoy.

 The second Princess came by later on and we went to my ”Uncle and Aunt’s” house in Misawa, the American military base.  This house is otherwise known by my friends as my second home, or my weekend house.  (My ”uncle and aunt” are not really related to me, but in Hawaii, where I am from we call people who are our parents age ”aunty” and ”uncle” out of respect, instead of ”mr.” or ”mrs.”)  For sake of this blog, we shall refer to them as the Shinsetsunahitos (the very kind people, in Japanese, even though they are American).  

That night I made dinner for the Shinsetsu and their neighbors who came over, Ms. Really-Young-Looking-Mom and her daughter Mini-Me. The Second Princess made dessert, broiled apples in cinnamon over vanilla ice cream, topped with caramel sauce.  The sauce was my idea, I made Mini-Me go over to her house to get it.  Definite high point.

The next morning the Shinsetsu’s took us to American brunch where we gorged ourselves on bacon, strawberry waffles and whipped cream, eggs benedict, etc… The second Princess and I also brought two Japanese friends with us.  High points increasing.

Afterwards, we went to church and listened to a message about how God is love. After that, we went to back to my weekend house with the Japanese friends. The Shinsetus  went out for a walk on the beach since the weather cleared. High points for all of us.

 This is when the dramatic event occured. I love to play piano, and since they have one at their house we all inevitably found ourselves in the music/computer room.  After finding out one of the Japanese girls could play the guitar, I reached over for a guitar so that she could show us her skills.  What I didn’t realize is that there was another guitar behind that one, whose weight had been leaning on it and consequently it fell over with a loud BAM! 

Low low low low low point.

After staring in shock for a few moments, we picked it up and scrambled to see if there was anything we could do.The neck had broken, and the strings were all askew and tangled.  There was no way this was going to be an easy repair. I immediately called the Shinsetsus who were enjoying their morning walk, and told them with a sad voice that ”Something kind of bad happened,” and proceeded to tell them about how I had broke their guitar. 

Mrs. Shinsetsu responded in an almost strangely amusing tone, ”Don’t worry about it.”

”I am so sorry!” I bemoaned into the phone.

Then to my amazement she chuckled, ”Don’t even think about replacing it, it was like, 5 dollars from Korea.” (High point.)

My heart started to feel life again, and relief, but I was still shaken and feeling bad about it anyway. I mean, it was after all, a broken guitar. 

At the end of the night, I gave Mr. Shinsetsu my raspberry sorbet, that was at least 3 dollars, to begin to make up for breaking their guitar.   

Our Japanese friends and the Princesses said our goodbyes to the Shinsetsus and drove back to their relative towns, the Princesses back to the Third Gate of the Blue Forest.

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