Jules is the most Japanese white guy I know. Not your predictable J-pop loving, Anime-watching, AV Idol-obsessed Japanophile. No, Jules is the exception to the rule. After four years of living in the Kanto region, he speaks near-perfect Japanese, and uses a dialect unique to Osaka – one used by many Japanese comedians. He works at a host club, an industry found only in Japan, where wealthy, lonely women pay exorbitant sums of money to sit and drink with charismatic, fashionable and conversationally skilled young Japanese men…  And one white guy named Jules. All of his co-workers and customers are Japanese and none of them speak any English. He is the antithesis of an ESL teacher in Japan.

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No money, no ATM card — definitely no credit card. That was what I had decided for the trip. I felt like I needed the challenge. Hitchhiking to Montreal every couple of weeks was starting to feel routine. The adventure was wearing off a little. I decided I would bring only my guitar and clothes. If I was going to eat, I had to play my guitar – busk – for it.

My destination was Montreal, but on the first day I left so late I only made it to Moncton, a two hour drive away.

It was about seven p.m. when I got dropped off in Moncton. I walked down Main Street to an underpass, where the down town seemed to fade into residential, then back to where I started — the restaurant with the big lobster in front. There wasn’t much going on in this town. It looked like it might be a difficult night to busk, and I thought about the possibility of a hungry night without dinner. Was it a bad idea not to bring money? I was starting to doubt my adventurous side.

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