My students let out a chorus of compassionate ehhh’s. Miyoko nods. “You must always be so busy with school. Do you travel on your holidays?”

“Nope. But I’d like to. I never have time anymore. And I don’t have anyone to go with. I’ve always loved Kyoto, though. Never get tired of it.”

Miyoko hesitates. “Why do you like Kyoto?”

“It’s just beautiful and historic. Kinda reminds me of home. Well, it used to. Now all the cool places are getting bulldozed to make room for ugly glass condos no one can afford to live in. It’s not like Japan; you can still see thousand-year-old buildings, right beside the new ones. They can exist together, in the same place — I mean, assuming they’re earthquake-safe enough to live in. I’ve always loved that preservation of history, you know?”

They don’t. All three women stare at me like I sprouted a second head. I know these looks. They didn’t understand a word I said. I spoke way too much too fast or used too many words they didn’t recognize.

“That’s right,” Mami remembers. “You are from Canada. You will go back to Canada?”

“Um, no. Not yet.” Thinking out loud, I go on: “Maybe, I don’t know. I think my family wants me to go back, but then I’d have to find a place to live, get a job, figure out a profession. All that fun stuff. I still really haven’t thought that far.”

Bad idea. Miyoko is the only one nodding, while Mami and Fumiko stare. It’s my fault, really. I forgot myself and stepped out of textbook conversation mode. I need to stop doing that. It’s a trial lesson … a trial lesson …

“Okay, everyone has their textbooks? Awesome! Please turn to page thirty-two.”

Thank goodness, they understand that. We read Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech; an odd introduction into talking about literal dreams, but it’s what we have to do. The textbook breaks down the speech, with a side blurb in Japanese about what dreams mean. The textbook also says that for homework, everyone has to write down things people dream about.

“Oh, shukudai! Exciting!” Fumiko laughs. “Cybelle-sensei, I am very exciting to know what you dream next week!”

“Me, too!” says Mami.

“And me,” Miyoko agrees.

“Next week?” What happened to this being a one-time trial lesson?

“Yes,” Miyoko beams with pride. “We will have Cybellesensei’s class on Tuesdays. Manager say before class. Now, we can see Cybelle-sensei all the time! Did Manager tell you?”

I rub my eye. It’s twitching again. “Oh. Okay … yes! Um. Please write down your ideas for homework, and we’ll share them.”

Fumiko points at my eye. “Ne, sensei, daijoubu?”

“I’m fine; it’s just itchy.” When she tilts her head, I make a scratching gesture.

“Ah! Kayui desu ne. Maybe, you should sleep more.”