The people in Amakusa are extremely friendly. I used to bike around the island with my Canadian buddy, Steve LaChance, and we'd take these back roads that brought us through acres of rice fields and along bustling rivers. And everywhere we went, people--farmers, fishermen, villagers, schoolkids--would flash us big genuine smiles that said: "WELCOME!" I always felt welcome in Japan, but especially so by the people of Amakusa.

Teaching in Amakusa was fun. (Click here for more on my teaching experience there.) Most humorous of all was the shock effect my teaching style had on the kids in my classes. With all due respect to my hardworking colleagues who still teach in the secondary school system there, Japanese teachers tend to be quite serious, and rigorous, in their exam-based approach to education. Hence, they tend to have a by-the-book (literally!), nuts-'n'-bolts (figuratively) classroom presence.

Being the oddball gaijin, or "foreigner" (a term some of my Western colleagues came to resent because they felt they were being labelled "different," which is exactly what they were!), I wasn't expected to be like a Japanese teacher, so I wasn't. I think I'm remembered there mostly by the theatrical nature of my material presentation, which was often "genki," or exuberant, and quite loud. We--me, my students, and whomever I might have been team-teaching with at the time--had some great times in those classrooms, practicing pronuciation of words like "rice" and "lice," learning "American" gestures and slang (including a some profantity), even singing English-language songs that were popular at that time in Karaoke clubs, such as Billy Joel's "Honesty," the Beatles' "Hey Jude," and a number of Carpenters' songs.

Karaoke was something that I and my other Westerner friends got into big time. Rosemary Rokita, Patricia Bianco, Marianne Durrant and I loved to go to this karaoke club called "The Apple Core," which was located in central Hondo. After a few beers and shots of "shochu," we'd be up on the floor singing like we were rock stars, much to the delight or many--and dismay of some--Japanese costumers.

I fared best with Springsteen's "Born in the U.S.A." Rosemary loved--really, deeply, truly loved--that old country hick diddy, "Your Cheatin' Heart." Patricia, who had a great voice, could belt out any number of songs, and we dueted quite a few times. Best of all, we learned a few Japanese pop songs that were in vogue at that time ("Won't Be Long" by the Bubble Gum Brothers and "Hanashitakuwanai" by T. Bolan). I learned a popular ballad, "Shonen Jidai," that I'd sing when I went out alone and so impressed other Japanese patrons with my "fluency" they'd invite me over and--this was the best part of all--buy ALL the drinks for the rest of the night!

Amakusa is a great place for sporting events, festivals, and all sorts of cultural activities. Sadly, I was so into "my own thing" (biking, going to the beach, playing piano at school, hanging out at raman spots and snack bars) that I didn't really take part in much of went on--unless I was politely "requested" to by administrators at my school I did participate in many school-based activities, including running in relays during the yearly "Sports Day."

When I did involve myself in community activities, it was mostly as an observer. I was asked to "dance" in several parades, but I refused them all--too shy about my clumsiness. I regret that now, because I would have gotten more out of it than I then expected, but I appreciate that I got to vicariously experience it through, say, some of my students, who were all decked out in beautiful, traditional garb.

After leaving Japan I ended up in Fiji (another two years) then, even later, in Venezuela (just one year there). I visited some great places in both countries but none of them surpassed in beauty the many spots I visited--some only briefly but that I still remember to this day--in the Amakusa region of Japan. I remember standing on more than one occasion in the empty library room on the top floor of Kuratake Secondary School, a place I visited twice a week each spring, and looking out over the bay at the sharp isles that rose pearl-like from the water, the old-fashioned fishing boats slowly gliding along, the lush hills with their stark peaks against the sky, and thinking to myself: "If I die tomorrow, at least I'll do so knowing that I've experienced a place so beautiful words defy my ability to describe it."