It's mushiatsui! That means 'hot and humid', and I can't think of a better word to describe it... try saying it with a touch of sticky fatigue, "Oh, MOOSHY-AtSOOeee!" Perfect. Now is the season of unending whiny complaints from sweaty gaijin and overworked students, and frankly, I find it a little annoying. Yes, it's hot, yes it's sticky-- but this is freakin' sub-tropical Japan, people! Get over yourselves-- go to the beach and relish the heat, or enjoy the shivery sensation of damp limbs cooling down in an air-conditioned room... whatever you do, don't whine about it!
Yesterday I saw Bani at work for the first time since his return from his 3 weeks in Germany. "Who won?" I asked. He looked a little incredulous as he told me that the World Cup isn't over yet... oh. I stopped paying attention when Japan got knocked out. Anyway, he very kindly offered to help me finish moving to my new place after work. We went in his little black jeep-type-thing to the Boobie Palace and I quickly finished my haphazard packing as he excitedly regailed Joanna and Kat with his World Cup adventures. Nice to speak to girls who actually appreciate the language of soccer, I guess! Red card, yellow card, one card, two card... whatever. I just think: "Run, beautiful men! Oh yes! Run and jump and kick the pretty ball!" It's probably the same way most men feel about figure-skating.
Anyway, now I'm mostly moved in... I have yet to unpack and redistribute the wealth. How have I managed to accumulate so much stuff in such a short period of time? The pack-rack gene in me seems to live on no matter what I do to eradicate it. I shouldn't complain; I have most of what I need. Dan has now left for Australia-- before he went, he bestowed me with boxes of kitchen supplies, including a blender, a food processor, and a takoyaki-making kit. Bubu's family has also given me some of Eri's things from her university days; lovely cream curtains, and a little glass coffee table. I have yet to buy an ironing board and garbage cans... ahhh. So much life goes into the mundane details. The apartment is miniscule (I'm sure I've said this before), and now I'm really appreciating my brief experience with dorm life during my last 4 months of university. It's very similar; the close quarters, the neighbors that bang on the walls at 3 am. At least here I have a washroom and a hot plate!
Canada Day was celebrated in typical Canadian fashion-- somewhat quietly, with dry humor and multicultural flair. Kat, Denise, Alex and I (the 4 Nova Canadians) were accompanied by Alex's boyfriend Tomomi and Joanna at a Denny's-style Izakaya. Various challenges were dealt with: vegetarianism, Denise's wheat and dairy allergy, Alex's shrimp allergy... only Tomomi and I could eat everything (and we did!) We had several pints of beer and laughed over the pre-packaged moist towelettes that are proffered before every meal-- the funniest ones I have seen are labeled 'Shilky Touch', but Alex had seen one called 'My Wet Friend'. The laughter and clever conversation were very uplifting-- Tomomi and I eyed our cute waiters and hosts and argued over which was the most darling. As we left, Kat stopped at the door to have her picture taken with (I thought) the cutest host at the front door. We wound our way through the damp warm streets, brightly lit with red lanterns and rainbow-coloured signs, to an Irish pub. Once you are in one of these themed spaces, you swear you could be in another part of the world; the Pouges were trilling brightly from the speakers, the seats were rich dark red leather, the walls were stone and brick, and the pint of Guiness was perfect. The evening ended rather abruptly-- although Tomomi wanted to carry on to a gay bar, I was ready for bed and Alex had to leave to catch his train.
Kat and I made our way back along the edge of Mt. Bizan; we stopped at one of the temples along the way. It was mysterious in the dark, with the buzz of cicadas all around and the heady cool scent of the mountain gardenias coming down the dusky slopes and encircling us. I showed her how to rinse your hands, how to ring the bell to scare the bad spirits away, and to clap to attract the attention of the gods. I talked about how I felt like Japan had chosen me; and not the other way around. In 1994 my mom had somehow heard about this opportunity through my school district-- write an essay about why I wanted to go to Japan and win a chance to be part of a two-week exchange. To tell the truth, I had never really thought about Japan before, other than it being the ending to 'MADE IN' on most of my childhood toys. Cajoled by my parents, I leafed through an old LIFE book on Japan that someone had picked up at a garage sale, and composed an essay. I felt like such a faker, saying that I was interested in geisha and the culture and changes to Japan after WWII... but someone liked my essay. And so I went. It seems like ever since that first experience, Japan has kept on knocking on the door of my heart, bringing me some of my ricest and most profound experiences-- whether I wanted them or not. I made one of my truest friends at Japanese summer school at UBC in 1995. Thanks to the generosity of my grandparents, I went to Hokkaido when I was 1996 on another brief exchange. There I gave a speech in Japanese to a crowd at a wine festival, mistakenly mixing up the words for 'scary' and 'pretty' when I described the town. I have learned and forgotten and learned and forgotten how to read hiragana and katagana three times-- now I'm learning again. I'm immersed in this culture, and I often feel like I'm only riding the tides of my destiny. I learn, and I watch, I imitate and posture, and yet I always try to remain completely myself, hoping that I can teach as much as I learn. It's sometimes incredible, and sometimes terrifying... but it's good to feel so alive.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
I feel like everything and nothing has happened since I was here last. Last week was an insane week of busy merrymaking, starting with Kat's arrival and the perfunctory night out to welcome her at Ingrid's, and culminating with Ingrid's birthday party at P Paradise. In between were nearly three days of celebrating Joanna's birthday-- involving a crammed party at the Boobie Palace (our apartment), a night out at Ingrid's (where else?) a night out at the onsen, and kaiten sushi (the kind that goes past you on a conveyeur). There was also a Goodbye party for Dan and Jon, and a Hello party for Andy and Kat-- Kat couldn't make it because she's training in Okoyama! Turns out that Kat is not only a cool chick, she's also a vegetarian, so she and Joanna are well matched. I don't feel so bad about leaving for my new apartment... if I ever get my act together and properly move out. Right now half my belongings are in the new apartment, but all things useful (my clothes, makeup, futon) are still at the Boobie Palace. Think I might be suffering a little separation anxiety? I'll miss waking up to a cup of tea and a bit of gossip with Joanna. Ah well... nothing gold can stay...
I ditched Ingrid's party early-- fabulous though it was. You should have seen her decked out in her stunning red gown and sparkling tiara; she looked like a contestant for the Miss Universe competition! It seemed like nearly the entire gaijin population of Tokushima was there-- for a few pictures, you can check out Dani's blog: http://www.daniinjapan.blogspot.com -- I haven't met her yet, but she's living somewhere in this city too, and she knows how to attach pictures to her blog. Anyhow, I was feeling a little fed up with getting dressed up and being charming and avoiding the things that really needed doing-- such as preparing for July's art show and packing my belongings for the move. I decided to walk home, although I should have trusted my instincts and taken a taxi. I was dressed to the nines in a cunning black cocktail dress and high black heels, long rhinestone-and-gold dangly earings, my hair piled high on my head-- as per Ingrid's instructions (" You must dress up, look fabulous for my birthday, darling!"). I realized that I perhaps looked a little racy for stalking the streets of Tokushima, but as nothing dangerous had occured before, I figured I would be alright. Well, that was a stupid assumption. I walked facing traffic, as I didn't want any cars sneaking up behind me, but one guy got a good look and circled the block, pulling in to a sidestreet I passed. He was standing by his car as I walked by, and said "hello,"-- I responded with "konbanwa" (good evening) and kept walking. He started asking me to come with him, just for one coffee, just for a little talking, but I said no thank you, no thank you, and kept hurriedly walking on. I was nearing my own side street where I would turn to get to the apartment, and was just beginnning to calm down when a car pulled onto the sidewalk in front of me, blocking my path. I stood well back, not sure what to think. The driver pulled forward and back several times, never completely clearing the sidewalk so I could pass, so I just hung back, baffled. Finally he rolled down the window and asked, "where you from?" Now completely freaked out, I waved my hand in the "No" gesture and said "No thank you!" and scooted around his car and around the corner onto my side street-- I didn't feel safe though, and so ducked into an alley and pressed myself flat against a wall. Sure enough just a moment later, he came slowly cruising in his car down the street looking for me. I scampered home, ducking into alleys whenever I heard a car coming-- once safe inside the apartment, I sent a frantic message to Yoshino, who kindly equipped me the next day with the number for the English-speaking police and a rape alarm. "Why do you attract offenders?" He asked me. Gee whiz, I dunno-- maybe because I inspire fantasy? Let's face it, Japan has a pretty repressed society, and repression can lead to some pretty kinky behavior. You need only count the number and variety of Love Hotels and Soap Shops to know that there is an undercurrent of desperate sexuality behind all of these good manners and gentle kindnesses.
Anyway, I'm off today-- Joanna and I were going to go to the beach, but it's raining, so I'll just keep plugging along with the moving-- which is proabably the better choice anyway. This afternoon were are going to be the welcoming committee for yet another new teacher. 'Tis the season for new recruits!
Until next time,
Endrene
I ditched Ingrid's party early-- fabulous though it was. You should have seen her decked out in her stunning red gown and sparkling tiara; she looked like a contestant for the Miss Universe competition! It seemed like nearly the entire gaijin population of Tokushima was there-- for a few pictures, you can check out Dani's blog: http://www.daniinjapan.blogspot.com -- I haven't met her yet, but she's living somewhere in this city too, and she knows how to attach pictures to her blog. Anyhow, I was feeling a little fed up with getting dressed up and being charming and avoiding the things that really needed doing-- such as preparing for July's art show and packing my belongings for the move. I decided to walk home, although I should have trusted my instincts and taken a taxi. I was dressed to the nines in a cunning black cocktail dress and high black heels, long rhinestone-and-gold dangly earings, my hair piled high on my head-- as per Ingrid's instructions (" You must dress up, look fabulous for my birthday, darling!"). I realized that I perhaps looked a little racy for stalking the streets of Tokushima, but as nothing dangerous had occured before, I figured I would be alright. Well, that was a stupid assumption. I walked facing traffic, as I didn't want any cars sneaking up behind me, but one guy got a good look and circled the block, pulling in to a sidestreet I passed. He was standing by his car as I walked by, and said "hello,"-- I responded with "konbanwa" (good evening) and kept walking. He started asking me to come with him, just for one coffee, just for a little talking, but I said no thank you, no thank you, and kept hurriedly walking on. I was nearing my own side street where I would turn to get to the apartment, and was just beginnning to calm down when a car pulled onto the sidewalk in front of me, blocking my path. I stood well back, not sure what to think. The driver pulled forward and back several times, never completely clearing the sidewalk so I could pass, so I just hung back, baffled. Finally he rolled down the window and asked, "where you from?" Now completely freaked out, I waved my hand in the "No" gesture and said "No thank you!" and scooted around his car and around the corner onto my side street-- I didn't feel safe though, and so ducked into an alley and pressed myself flat against a wall. Sure enough just a moment later, he came slowly cruising in his car down the street looking for me. I scampered home, ducking into alleys whenever I heard a car coming-- once safe inside the apartment, I sent a frantic message to Yoshino, who kindly equipped me the next day with the number for the English-speaking police and a rape alarm. "Why do you attract offenders?" He asked me. Gee whiz, I dunno-- maybe because I inspire fantasy? Let's face it, Japan has a pretty repressed society, and repression can lead to some pretty kinky behavior. You need only count the number and variety of Love Hotels and Soap Shops to know that there is an undercurrent of desperate sexuality behind all of these good manners and gentle kindnesses.
Anyway, I'm off today-- Joanna and I were going to go to the beach, but it's raining, so I'll just keep plugging along with the moving-- which is proabably the better choice anyway. This afternoon were are going to be the welcoming committee for yet another new teacher. 'Tis the season for new recruits!
Until next time,
Endrene
Friday, June 23, 2006
JUST A FAST POST, AS THIS COMPUTER IS DOING WEIRD THINGS AND THE STAFF HERE CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT (APPARENTLY). ALL IS WELL, THE NEW DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT (APPARENTLY). ALL IS WELL, THE NEW ROOM-MATE ARRIVED BEFORE I COULD MOVE OUT (STILL DON'T HAVE THE CODE FOR THE NEW APARTMENT) BUT THE COOL COULD MOVE OUT (STILL DON'T HAVE THE CODE FOR THE NEW APARTMENT) BUT THE COOL THING IS THAT SHE'S REALLY SUPER; HER NAME IS KAT, AND SHE'S FROM ST. CATHERINES, ONTARIO. IT'S NAME IS KAT, AND SHE'S FROM ST. CATHERINES, ONTARIO. IT'S JOANNA'S BIRTHDAY TODAY AND WE'RE ALL ST. CATHERINES, ONTARIO. IT'S JOANNA'S BIRTHDAY TODAY AND WE'RE ALL 3 OF US GOING TO AN ONSEN-- THEY WON'T KNOW WHAT HIT 'EM! sORRY FOR THIS WEIRDNESS, I'LL STOP NOW...
AS ALWAYS, NAMASTE
ENDRENE
AS ALWAYS, NAMASTE
ENDRENE
Sunday, June 18, 2006
I'm on my way to the post office this morning to retrieve the long-awaited parcel from home... I think mom sent it in early May? Anyhow, I'm excited-- this is better than Christmas! New shirts! New underwear! New underwear that FITS! (I hope!) I'm almost saving money here by default... I can't shop, so I don't. It's just that easy!
What a beautiful day! It's bright and warm and breezy, the palm trees are swaying and all of the greens are brighter, thanks to the last few days of cool weather and gentle rain. Awa Odori practice is going on everywhere; as I was riding my bike home last night, I could hear the monotonous clang of the awa cymbal coming from under the bridge. I'm really looking forward to the festival in July; the streets will be packed with throngs of people in yukata (summer kimono) and everyone will be dancing, dancing, dancing.
Last weekend (thursday and friday for me) I was highjacked by the Japanese! I didn't do any laundry, or packing for my move, nothing. (Can't move yet anyway, as I don't have a key for my new apartment.) Instead I went with Bubu to the Mori's house; Mr. Mori is a university friend of Bubu's, and he is a building owner and property manager. He had tried to find me an apartment in one of his buildings, but I found one first. This didn't dampen his interest in me, and the potential for practicing his English, so I was invited to dine at his house with his family; mother, wife, and daughter. What a house! What a meal! I had jaga nikku (a kind of stew-- apparently before a young man proposes, he asks the girl if she can make jaga nikku-- if she says no, she can't cook at all, and he shouldn't marry her). There was also tempura, sashimi, natto, rice, salad, etc, etc. I also ate some biwa fruit (not 'bimbom' like I'd earlier said-- tasty little apricotty-things). Granny sat and talked with me through her grand-daughter-- mostly about a Korean actor that she fancies. Her grandaughter said that granny had fallen in love, and had the heart of a young girl again! It was a late night, and many of the old themes were rehashed, as Bubu had a new audience to regail with tales of the "hen wa gaijin" (strange foriegner). She likes sushi! She likes natto! She can understand some Japanese! She knows how to properly eat with chopsticks! She knows how to kneel on a tatami mat! WOW! I'm a wonder...
The next day I recieved an early message from Yoshino, asking if I wanted to go to an 'oriental fortune teller'. Intruiged, I agreed. We drove out into the countryside south of here, and stopped in the middle of nowhere at Yoshino's favorite okonomiyaki restaurant; you get to make it yourself on the little table in front of you! It was quite tasty, and Yoshino asked me, "does it grab you?" Yes, it grabbed me very much-- I love an opportunity to play with my food! We went from there to pick up his friend Yurie, who was to act as the 'narrator' (translator)-- but her English was about the same as Yoshino's. No matter. On to the fortune teller... she was in this tiny little hut of an office-trailer, which was jam-packed with papers and colorful decorations made of paper and ribbons, dirty coffee cups, nail-polish remover, photographs, a small TV, videos... All three of us went in together, filling up the last of the available space. The fortune teller seemed to be in her fifties, not terribly glamorous or mysterious-- more like a friendly, bossy auntie. Yurie went first, and I didn't catch much of what was said to her at all. I was next, and my 'narrators' managed to translate about 70% of what was said to me: The last three years have been difficult and unbalanced for me, but this year I am on my way up; 2007 is meant to be even better, and it is a good year for romance (!). I am meant to be a teacher of some kind. I am a leader. I am good at teaching, but not good at being taught. My spirit is like water; I am adaptable and can become accustomed to anything easily. I cannot become stronger in spriit, because it is not in my nature; I have a gentle heart. So instead of trying to change the world by becoming stronger, I should change the world by teaching the children to have gentle hearts. All in all, I was quite touched, and enjoyed the reading. Yoshino was last, and his reading was quite negative; she suggested that he was in a dark time of life, and that perhaps he should look into arranged marriage. He was pretty upset afterwards; he's not a believer in this stuff in the first place, so I think he was annoyed that the first time he ever had his fortune told he got bad news!
The three of us went from there to a beautiful, vacant beach; Japanese people believe that beach season doesn't begin until July, so regardless of how nice the weather is in June, no one goes until July! We went down to the far end and poked around the tidal pools, finding sea slugs and anenomes and hermit crabs... and even a fugu! (puffer fish) I kept chasing him around and poking him, trying to make him puff, but I think he was too freaked out to do it. I tried clambering up some of the more trecherous outcroppings, but Yoshino demanded I get down, saying, "Oh! Dangerous! Your father will be angry!" The water was warm and seriously inviting, so I ducked around a seawall and stripped down to my skivvies and jumped in. I had said earlier that I was going to go swimming, but neither Yoshino or Yurie had really believed I would. After about 15 minutes, Yoshino asked (from a safe distance of 100 feet away), "Naka-chan, may I join you?" (Naka-chan is a famous seal that lives around here. He's famous because he doesn't belong here.) So Yoshino stripped down to his boxers (as he did this, I had to keep well away, and not look, otherwise he would yell "Mitenai! Mitenai!" -- "Don't look!") And Yurie also joined in, wearing her shirt and panties. The water was deep and green and rocky, and I opened my eyes as I swam under water, chasing crabs and fish. Yurie declared that I was a mermaid, as I was still swimming and playing long after she and Yoshino tired. (I think that my natural buoyancy may have helped me there!) Yoshino, being very shy, stayed about 40 feet away from both Yurie and I at all times.
Anyway, the story goes on from there (of course)-- I had dinner that night with Yurie and her mom, which was another adventure altogether. BUT I must get on to the post office, and then off to work! Here I go...
Namaste
What a beautiful day! It's bright and warm and breezy, the palm trees are swaying and all of the greens are brighter, thanks to the last few days of cool weather and gentle rain. Awa Odori practice is going on everywhere; as I was riding my bike home last night, I could hear the monotonous clang of the awa cymbal coming from under the bridge. I'm really looking forward to the festival in July; the streets will be packed with throngs of people in yukata (summer kimono) and everyone will be dancing, dancing, dancing.
Last weekend (thursday and friday for me) I was highjacked by the Japanese! I didn't do any laundry, or packing for my move, nothing. (Can't move yet anyway, as I don't have a key for my new apartment.) Instead I went with Bubu to the Mori's house; Mr. Mori is a university friend of Bubu's, and he is a building owner and property manager. He had tried to find me an apartment in one of his buildings, but I found one first. This didn't dampen his interest in me, and the potential for practicing his English, so I was invited to dine at his house with his family; mother, wife, and daughter. What a house! What a meal! I had jaga nikku (a kind of stew-- apparently before a young man proposes, he asks the girl if she can make jaga nikku-- if she says no, she can't cook at all, and he shouldn't marry her). There was also tempura, sashimi, natto, rice, salad, etc, etc. I also ate some biwa fruit (not 'bimbom' like I'd earlier said-- tasty little apricotty-things). Granny sat and talked with me through her grand-daughter-- mostly about a Korean actor that she fancies. Her grandaughter said that granny had fallen in love, and had the heart of a young girl again! It was a late night, and many of the old themes were rehashed, as Bubu had a new audience to regail with tales of the "hen wa gaijin" (strange foriegner). She likes sushi! She likes natto! She can understand some Japanese! She knows how to properly eat with chopsticks! She knows how to kneel on a tatami mat! WOW! I'm a wonder...
The next day I recieved an early message from Yoshino, asking if I wanted to go to an 'oriental fortune teller'. Intruiged, I agreed. We drove out into the countryside south of here, and stopped in the middle of nowhere at Yoshino's favorite okonomiyaki restaurant; you get to make it yourself on the little table in front of you! It was quite tasty, and Yoshino asked me, "does it grab you?" Yes, it grabbed me very much-- I love an opportunity to play with my food! We went from there to pick up his friend Yurie, who was to act as the 'narrator' (translator)-- but her English was about the same as Yoshino's. No matter. On to the fortune teller... she was in this tiny little hut of an office-trailer, which was jam-packed with papers and colorful decorations made of paper and ribbons, dirty coffee cups, nail-polish remover, photographs, a small TV, videos... All three of us went in together, filling up the last of the available space. The fortune teller seemed to be in her fifties, not terribly glamorous or mysterious-- more like a friendly, bossy auntie. Yurie went first, and I didn't catch much of what was said to her at all. I was next, and my 'narrators' managed to translate about 70% of what was said to me: The last three years have been difficult and unbalanced for me, but this year I am on my way up; 2007 is meant to be even better, and it is a good year for romance (!). I am meant to be a teacher of some kind. I am a leader. I am good at teaching, but not good at being taught. My spirit is like water; I am adaptable and can become accustomed to anything easily. I cannot become stronger in spriit, because it is not in my nature; I have a gentle heart. So instead of trying to change the world by becoming stronger, I should change the world by teaching the children to have gentle hearts. All in all, I was quite touched, and enjoyed the reading. Yoshino was last, and his reading was quite negative; she suggested that he was in a dark time of life, and that perhaps he should look into arranged marriage. He was pretty upset afterwards; he's not a believer in this stuff in the first place, so I think he was annoyed that the first time he ever had his fortune told he got bad news!
The three of us went from there to a beautiful, vacant beach; Japanese people believe that beach season doesn't begin until July, so regardless of how nice the weather is in June, no one goes until July! We went down to the far end and poked around the tidal pools, finding sea slugs and anenomes and hermit crabs... and even a fugu! (puffer fish) I kept chasing him around and poking him, trying to make him puff, but I think he was too freaked out to do it. I tried clambering up some of the more trecherous outcroppings, but Yoshino demanded I get down, saying, "Oh! Dangerous! Your father will be angry!" The water was warm and seriously inviting, so I ducked around a seawall and stripped down to my skivvies and jumped in. I had said earlier that I was going to go swimming, but neither Yoshino or Yurie had really believed I would. After about 15 minutes, Yoshino asked (from a safe distance of 100 feet away), "Naka-chan, may I join you?" (Naka-chan is a famous seal that lives around here. He's famous because he doesn't belong here.) So Yoshino stripped down to his boxers (as he did this, I had to keep well away, and not look, otherwise he would yell "Mitenai! Mitenai!" -- "Don't look!") And Yurie also joined in, wearing her shirt and panties. The water was deep and green and rocky, and I opened my eyes as I swam under water, chasing crabs and fish. Yurie declared that I was a mermaid, as I was still swimming and playing long after she and Yoshino tired. (I think that my natural buoyancy may have helped me there!) Yoshino, being very shy, stayed about 40 feet away from both Yurie and I at all times.
Anyway, the story goes on from there (of course)-- I had dinner that night with Yurie and her mom, which was another adventure altogether. BUT I must get on to the post office, and then off to work! Here I go...
Namaste
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
So much to say, so much to say, so much to say! By the way, if anyone is thinking of sending me a present (bold of me to suggest such a thing) maybe you could burn a cd with some of your favorite music? Or even tape a radio station? I'm a bit of a technophobe and have not yet learned how to do such a thing (downloading music), and the radio station in Tokushima is abhorrent. And I'll apologize here to my friend Ryan, who is ethically against any such piracy (rightfully so)... but... Well, I have no valid excuses for encouraging you all to be pirates. I just miss listening to music from home. Arrrr, me mateys!
Anyway, back to the crack. ('Crack' is gossip, according to my Newcastleite roomie). EARTHQUAKE!! Yes indeed, folks, I have now experienced a real earthquake. Five AM on tuesday morning I awoke very suddenly, like people sometimes do before their alarm goes off. You lie there for a few moments, wondering--why am I awake? and then your alarm goes beepbeepbeep. Except this time, there was no beepbeepbeep. Instead, my room began to sway, my overhead light swinging; I felt as though enormous arms had scooped up the earth and were rocking it like a baby, with terryfying effects. All I could do was lay there, eyes popping from my head. I had only two thoughts: "What should I do? There's no furniture in my room to hide under!" and "Oh, %$!#&! I'm naked! They're going to rescue me, and I'm going to be naked! What if I'm not wearing anything when the building collapses? Should I get my shoes first, or should I put some clothes on?" The shaking might have lasted for 30 seconds or two minutes, I don't know. But as soon as it stopped, I was up, throwing on a pair of yesterday's pants and a dirty inside-out-and-backwards t-shirt. I called for Joanna as I frantically ran around the apartment, trying to decide what was most important. Put on shoes? Get my passport? Turn on the TV? Turn off the gas? I opted for tearing open the sliding glass door to look at the river, to see if a tsunami was coming. Joanna came out of her room and (more calmly than me) suggested we turn on the TV for some sort of report. The epicentre was in Kyushuu, just east of Hiroshima. There, it registered about 5 on the measurement scale (I don't know if they use the Richter scale in Japan). Here in Tokushima it was a 3. We eventually decided we were safe and went back to bed. When I told my students about my terrified earthquake antics later that day, most of them were highly amused. Many of them woke up during the shaking, and then just rolled over and went back to sleep! I can't imagine being so calmly accepting of inevetible disaster... but I suppose there aren't a lot of options. You can live your life in fear, but then you're only living half a life.
Hmmm... what else? Ah yes, I'm moving!! I'm taking a one-room apartment close to BuBu's shop. It's miniscule; the entire apartment is not much bigger than my current bedroom. There's one gas burner, a wee bar fridge, and a toilet/bath combo, which is very unusual in Japan, as it's considered quite dirty to bathe where you poop! You usually only see such a combination in the tiny little business hotels. The tap over the sink actually swivels so that it also performs as the tap for the bathtub; the entire apartment is quite the miracle of space-saving ingenuity. I won't have any furniture save for a small coffee table that Bubu's family is donating to my cause. I'm actually pretty enthused about my impending sparse lifestyle. I'd like to have a few pillows so that when I'm entertaining guests, they won't have to sit on the hardwood floor, but I don't imagine I'll bother getting a television or a dvd player or a couch or a bed or anything like that. What do I need them for? I'll have my futon for a bed, which I fold up and put away every morning. I'll have a few plants which I'll bring from my current apartment, my books, my art supplies, my little stereo. I've got a nice little balcony, so perhaps I'll get a chair so I can have my tea out there in the morning. The main thing is that I will only be responsible for myself, and that was part of my mission when I decided to come to Japan. I wanted to prove to myself that I am capable of functioning as an independent human being before I moved into the next stages of my life, whatever they may be. So far, so good!
We have a new teacher, a Scottish fellow named Andy. They poor bloke never learned how to ride a bicycle, so he's been having quite a time in Tokushima, the City of Cyclists. He's fallen off quite a number of times and will be well scarred up before he leaves this country! I have to pick him up on my way to work on Saturday, his first full official day at Nova Kitajima Fuji Grand; I'll be leaving VERY early. I've seen him out a couple of times now, and it's quite nice to have a new friendly face in town. However, I think I'm turning Japanese-- like most normal Westerners, he makes eye contact when we're talking, and I find myself having a hard time looking back, as is the Japanese custom-- you don't look anyone in the eyes too long because it's considered too aggressive! Anyway, maybe he can help bring me back to that fact that I AM a Westerner, and that eye contact isn't such a bad thing.
Went to Takamatsu with Yoshino last week; we had a great time, taking or bikes in the back of his station wagon. Takamatsu is the biggest city on this island, and it's about 45 minutes from Tokushima, depending on which roads you take. To get there we went through the countryside, stopping to see some famous sand hoodoos (quite like the ones on the way to Summerland from Penticton) and a shrine that was apparently filled with male and female body-part art and sculptures-- I say apparently because unfortunately, it was closed! The countryside was breathtaking, and I ooohed and aaaahed as we drove through the lush mountains and past deep gorges with deep cool streams. I saw palm trees and small houses and bimbom fruit trees (like apricots, but more tropical) little narrow streets and rich green valleys. When we got to Takamatsu, I was almost disappointed to be there; I prefered the scenery and diversity of the countryside. We first went into the Takamatsu Prefectural park; it's been cultivated for nearly 360 years, and it was quite spectacular, particulary the display of Japanese irises growing in the centre of one of the ponds. (I took lots of pictures for you, mom!) One park guide caught me messing with the carp (I was trying to pet them, of course) and instead of scolding me, he gave me a 15 minute in-depth explanation of the history of the park in perfect English. The one phrase I remember from his lecture was, "This park is arguably one of the most beautiful in Japan." I remember because I was impressed with his accurate use of the word 'arguably'. Funny how being an English teacher can suddenly make you aware of the intricacies and the ridiculousness of language in general. How often do we speak without saying anything at all?
Anyway, from there we got the bikes and rode around Takamatsu. We stopped to eat famous udon noodles-- which I had enormous difficulty eating because of my conditioned terror of making slurping sounds; I have since been admonished by several of my Japanese friends, who tell me that you cannot taste if you do not make noise! At the time though, I was so embarrased and upset by my inability to slurp that I was nearly crying, my steaming bowl still full in front of me while Yoshino had finished his. He encouraged me by telling me to "image the carp" that we had fed in the park-- with their great big sucky mouths! He also said, "Oooh, good sound!" whenever I managed a half-assed slurp. I was glad to get out of there when we were done. We went from there to a wax museum that depicted the history of the samurai wars that had happened in the area hundreds of years ago; the costumes and the faces were quite effective, but I've always been a little freaked out by life-size dummies of any sort, and so I was glad to get out of there as well. Smelled funny, too. The drive back was on a bigger highway, so no real spectacular scenery, although the sunset was gorgeous. Yoshino always plans such adventersome days, I quite like having as a friend. I'm going to have to do something for him sometime-- cook hamburgers maybe?
Anyway, I best get out of this smoky cafe and back out into the rain; it's quite windy and wet today, but very warm, so it's really not a big deal if I get soaked. Wish me well-- I've got a challenging couple of weeks ahead!
Namaste
endrene
Anyway, back to the crack. ('Crack' is gossip, according to my Newcastleite roomie). EARTHQUAKE!! Yes indeed, folks, I have now experienced a real earthquake. Five AM on tuesday morning I awoke very suddenly, like people sometimes do before their alarm goes off. You lie there for a few moments, wondering--why am I awake? and then your alarm goes beepbeepbeep. Except this time, there was no beepbeepbeep. Instead, my room began to sway, my overhead light swinging; I felt as though enormous arms had scooped up the earth and were rocking it like a baby, with terryfying effects. All I could do was lay there, eyes popping from my head. I had only two thoughts: "What should I do? There's no furniture in my room to hide under!" and "Oh, %$!#&! I'm naked! They're going to rescue me, and I'm going to be naked! What if I'm not wearing anything when the building collapses? Should I get my shoes first, or should I put some clothes on?" The shaking might have lasted for 30 seconds or two minutes, I don't know. But as soon as it stopped, I was up, throwing on a pair of yesterday's pants and a dirty inside-out-and-backwards t-shirt. I called for Joanna as I frantically ran around the apartment, trying to decide what was most important. Put on shoes? Get my passport? Turn on the TV? Turn off the gas? I opted for tearing open the sliding glass door to look at the river, to see if a tsunami was coming. Joanna came out of her room and (more calmly than me) suggested we turn on the TV for some sort of report. The epicentre was in Kyushuu, just east of Hiroshima. There, it registered about 5 on the measurement scale (I don't know if they use the Richter scale in Japan). Here in Tokushima it was a 3. We eventually decided we were safe and went back to bed. When I told my students about my terrified earthquake antics later that day, most of them were highly amused. Many of them woke up during the shaking, and then just rolled over and went back to sleep! I can't imagine being so calmly accepting of inevetible disaster... but I suppose there aren't a lot of options. You can live your life in fear, but then you're only living half a life.
Hmmm... what else? Ah yes, I'm moving!! I'm taking a one-room apartment close to BuBu's shop. It's miniscule; the entire apartment is not much bigger than my current bedroom. There's one gas burner, a wee bar fridge, and a toilet/bath combo, which is very unusual in Japan, as it's considered quite dirty to bathe where you poop! You usually only see such a combination in the tiny little business hotels. The tap over the sink actually swivels so that it also performs as the tap for the bathtub; the entire apartment is quite the miracle of space-saving ingenuity. I won't have any furniture save for a small coffee table that Bubu's family is donating to my cause. I'm actually pretty enthused about my impending sparse lifestyle. I'd like to have a few pillows so that when I'm entertaining guests, they won't have to sit on the hardwood floor, but I don't imagine I'll bother getting a television or a dvd player or a couch or a bed or anything like that. What do I need them for? I'll have my futon for a bed, which I fold up and put away every morning. I'll have a few plants which I'll bring from my current apartment, my books, my art supplies, my little stereo. I've got a nice little balcony, so perhaps I'll get a chair so I can have my tea out there in the morning. The main thing is that I will only be responsible for myself, and that was part of my mission when I decided to come to Japan. I wanted to prove to myself that I am capable of functioning as an independent human being before I moved into the next stages of my life, whatever they may be. So far, so good!
We have a new teacher, a Scottish fellow named Andy. They poor bloke never learned how to ride a bicycle, so he's been having quite a time in Tokushima, the City of Cyclists. He's fallen off quite a number of times and will be well scarred up before he leaves this country! I have to pick him up on my way to work on Saturday, his first full official day at Nova Kitajima Fuji Grand; I'll be leaving VERY early. I've seen him out a couple of times now, and it's quite nice to have a new friendly face in town. However, I think I'm turning Japanese-- like most normal Westerners, he makes eye contact when we're talking, and I find myself having a hard time looking back, as is the Japanese custom-- you don't look anyone in the eyes too long because it's considered too aggressive! Anyway, maybe he can help bring me back to that fact that I AM a Westerner, and that eye contact isn't such a bad thing.
Went to Takamatsu with Yoshino last week; we had a great time, taking or bikes in the back of his station wagon. Takamatsu is the biggest city on this island, and it's about 45 minutes from Tokushima, depending on which roads you take. To get there we went through the countryside, stopping to see some famous sand hoodoos (quite like the ones on the way to Summerland from Penticton) and a shrine that was apparently filled with male and female body-part art and sculptures-- I say apparently because unfortunately, it was closed! The countryside was breathtaking, and I ooohed and aaaahed as we drove through the lush mountains and past deep gorges with deep cool streams. I saw palm trees and small houses and bimbom fruit trees (like apricots, but more tropical) little narrow streets and rich green valleys. When we got to Takamatsu, I was almost disappointed to be there; I prefered the scenery and diversity of the countryside. We first went into the Takamatsu Prefectural park; it's been cultivated for nearly 360 years, and it was quite spectacular, particulary the display of Japanese irises growing in the centre of one of the ponds. (I took lots of pictures for you, mom!) One park guide caught me messing with the carp (I was trying to pet them, of course) and instead of scolding me, he gave me a 15 minute in-depth explanation of the history of the park in perfect English. The one phrase I remember from his lecture was, "This park is arguably one of the most beautiful in Japan." I remember because I was impressed with his accurate use of the word 'arguably'. Funny how being an English teacher can suddenly make you aware of the intricacies and the ridiculousness of language in general. How often do we speak without saying anything at all?
Anyway, from there we got the bikes and rode around Takamatsu. We stopped to eat famous udon noodles-- which I had enormous difficulty eating because of my conditioned terror of making slurping sounds; I have since been admonished by several of my Japanese friends, who tell me that you cannot taste if you do not make noise! At the time though, I was so embarrased and upset by my inability to slurp that I was nearly crying, my steaming bowl still full in front of me while Yoshino had finished his. He encouraged me by telling me to "image the carp" that we had fed in the park-- with their great big sucky mouths! He also said, "Oooh, good sound!" whenever I managed a half-assed slurp. I was glad to get out of there when we were done. We went from there to a wax museum that depicted the history of the samurai wars that had happened in the area hundreds of years ago; the costumes and the faces were quite effective, but I've always been a little freaked out by life-size dummies of any sort, and so I was glad to get out of there as well. Smelled funny, too. The drive back was on a bigger highway, so no real spectacular scenery, although the sunset was gorgeous. Yoshino always plans such adventersome days, I quite like having as a friend. I'm going to have to do something for him sometime-- cook hamburgers maybe?
Anyway, I best get out of this smoky cafe and back out into the rain; it's quite windy and wet today, but very warm, so it's really not a big deal if I get soaked. Wish me well-- I've got a challenging couple of weeks ahead!
Namaste
endrene
So much to say, so much to say, so much to say! By the way, if anyone is thinking of sending me a present (bold of me to suggest such a thing) maybe you could burn a cd with some of your favorite music? Or even tape a radio station? I'm a bit of a technophobe and have not yet learned how to do such a thing (downloading music), and the radio station in Tokushima is abhorrent. And I'll apologize here to my friend Ryan, who is ethically against any such piracy (rightfully so)... but... Well, I have no valid excuses for encouraging you all to be pirates. I just miss listening to music from home. Arrrr, me mateys!
Anyway, back to the crack. ('Crack' is gossip, according to my Newcastleite roomie). EARTHQUAKE!! Yes indeed, folks, I have now experienced a real earthquake. Five AM on tuesday morning I awoke very suddenly, like people sometimes do before their alarm goes off. You lie there for a few moments, wondering--why am I awake? and then your alarm goes beepbeepbeep. Except this time, there was no beepbeepbeep. Instead, my room began to sway, my overhead light swinging; I felt as though enormous arms had scooped up the earth and were rocking it like a baby, with terryfying effects. All I could do was lay there, eyes popping from my head. I had only two thoughts: "What should I do? There's no furniture in my room to hide under!" and "Oh, %$!#&! I'm naked! They're going to rescue me, and I'm going to be naked! What if I'm not wearing anything when the building collapses? Should I get my shoes first, or should I put some clothes on?" The shaking might have lasted for 30 seconds or two minutes, I don't know. But as soon as it stopped, I was up, throwing on a pair of yesterday's pants and a dirty inside-out-and-backwards t-shirt. I called for Joanna as I frantically ran around the apartment, trying to decide what was most important. Put on shoes? Get my passport? Turn on the TV? Turn off the gas? I opted for tearing open the sliding glass door to look at the river, to see if a tsunami was coming. Joanna came out of her room and (more calmly than me) suggested we turn on the TV for some sort of report. The epicentre was in Kyushuu, just east of Hiroshima. There, it registered about 5 on the measurement scale (I don't know if they use the Richter scale in Japan). Here in Tokushima it was a 3. We eventually decided we were safe and went back to bed. When I told my students about my terrified earthquake antics later that day, most of them were highly amused. Many of them woke up during the shaking, and then just rolled over and went back to sleep! I can't imagine being so calmly accepting of inevetible disaster... but I suppose there aren't a lot of options. You can live your life in fear, but then you're only living half a life.
Hmmm... what else? Ah yes, I'm moving!! I'm taking a one-room apartment close to BuBu's shop. It's miniscule; the entire apartment is not much bigger than my current bedroom. There's one gas burner than my current bedroom. There's one gas burner, a current bedroom. There's one gas burner, a wee bar fridge, and a toilet/bath combo, which is very unusual in Japan, as it's considered quite dirty to bathe where you poop! You usually only see such a combination in the tiny little business hotels. The tap over the sink actually swivels so that it also performs as the tap for the bathtub; the entire apartment is quite the miracle of space-saving ingenuity. I won't have any furniture save for a small coffee table that Bubu's family is donating to my cause. I'm actually pretty enthused about my impending sparse lifestyle. I'd like to have a few pillows so that when I'm entertaining guests, they won't have to sit on the hardwood floor, but I don't imagine I'll bother getting a television or a dvd player or a couch or a bed or anything like that. What do I need them for? I'll have my futon for a bed, which I fold up and put away every morning. I'll have a few plants which I'll bring from my current apartment, my books, my art supplies, my little stereo. I've got a nice little balcony, so perhaps I'll get a chair so I can have my tea out there in the morning. The main thing is that I will only be responsible for myself, and that was part of my mission when I decided to come to Japan. I wanted to prove to myself that I am capable of functioning as an independent human being before I moved into the next stages of my life, whatever they may be. So far, so good!
We have a new teacher, a Scottish fellow named Andy. They poor bloke never learned how to ride a bicycle, so he's been having quite a time in Tokushima, the City of Cyclists. He's fallen off quite a number of times and will be well scarred up before he leaves this country! I have to pick him up on my way to work on Saturday, his first full official day at Nova Kitajima Fuji Grand; I'll be leaving VERY early. I've seen him out a couple of times now, and it's quite nice to have a new friendly face in town. However, I think I'm turning Japanese-- like most normal Westerners, he makes eye contact when we're talking, and I find myself having a hard time looking back, as is the Japanese custom-- you don't look anyone in the eyes too long because it's considered too aggressive! Anyway, maybe he can help bring me back to that fact that I AM a Westerner, and that eye contact isn't such a bad thing.
Went to Takamatsu with Yoshino last week; we had a great time, taking or bikes in the back of his station wagon. Takamatsu is the biggest city on this island, and it's about 45 minutes from Tokushima, depending on which roads you take. To get there we went through the countryside, stopping to see some famous sand hoodoos (quite like the ones on the way to Summerland from Penticton) and a shrine that was apparently filled with male and female body-part art and sculptures-- I say apparently because unfortunately, it was closed! The countryside was breathtaking, and I ooohed and aaaahed as we drove through the lush mountains and past deep gorges with deep cool streams. I saw palm trees and small houses and bimbom fruit trees (like apricots, but more tropical) little narrow streets and rich green valleys. When we got to Takamatsu, I was almost disappointed to be there; I prefered the scenery and diversity of the countryside. We first went into the Takamatsu Prefectural park; it's been cultivated for nearly 360 years, and it was quite spectacular, particulary the display of Japanese irises growing in the centre of one of the ponds. (I took lots of pictures for you, mom!) One park guide caught me messing with the carp (I was trying to pet them, of course) and instead of scolding me, he gave me a 15 minute in-depth explanation of the history of the park in perfect English. The one phrase I remember from his lecture was, "This park is arguably one of the most beautiful in Japan." I remember because I was impressed with his accurate use of the word 'arguably'. Funny how being an English teacher can suddenly make you aware of the intricacies and the ridiculousness of language in general. How often do we speak without saying anything at all?
Anyway, from there we got the bikes and rode around Takamatsu. We stopped to eat famous udon noodles-- which I had enormous difficulty eating because of my conditioned terror of making slurping sounds; I have since been admonished by several of my Japanese friends, who tell me that you cannot taste if you do not make noise! At the time though, I was so embarrased and upset by my inability to slurp that I was nearly crying, my steaming bowl still full in front of me while Yoshino had finished his. He encouraged me by telling me to "image the carp" that we had fed in the park-- with their great big sucky mouths! He also said, "Oooh, good sound!" whenever I managed a half-assed slurp. I was glad to get out of there when we were done. We went from there to a wax museum that depicted the history of the samurai wars that had happened in the area hundreds of years ago; the costumes and the faces were quite effective, but I've always been a little freaked out by life-size dummies of any sort, and so I was glad to get out of there as well. Smelled funny, too. The drive back was on a bigger highway, so no real spectacular scenery, although the sunset was gorgeous. Yoshino always plans such adventersome days, I quite like having as a friend. I'm going to have to do something for him sometime-- cook hamburgers maybe?
Anyway, I best get out of this smoky cafe and back out into the rain; it's quite windy and wet today, but very warm, so it's really not a big deal if I get soaked. Wish me well-- I've got a challenging couple of weeks ahead!
Namaste
endrene
Anyway, back to the crack. ('Crack' is gossip, according to my Newcastleite roomie). EARTHQUAKE!! Yes indeed, folks, I have now experienced a real earthquake. Five AM on tuesday morning I awoke very suddenly, like people sometimes do before their alarm goes off. You lie there for a few moments, wondering--why am I awake? and then your alarm goes beepbeepbeep. Except this time, there was no beepbeepbeep. Instead, my room began to sway, my overhead light swinging; I felt as though enormous arms had scooped up the earth and were rocking it like a baby, with terryfying effects. All I could do was lay there, eyes popping from my head. I had only two thoughts: "What should I do? There's no furniture in my room to hide under!" and "Oh, %$!#&! I'm naked! They're going to rescue me, and I'm going to be naked! What if I'm not wearing anything when the building collapses? Should I get my shoes first, or should I put some clothes on?" The shaking might have lasted for 30 seconds or two minutes, I don't know. But as soon as it stopped, I was up, throwing on a pair of yesterday's pants and a dirty inside-out-and-backwards t-shirt. I called for Joanna as I frantically ran around the apartment, trying to decide what was most important. Put on shoes? Get my passport? Turn on the TV? Turn off the gas? I opted for tearing open the sliding glass door to look at the river, to see if a tsunami was coming. Joanna came out of her room and (more calmly than me) suggested we turn on the TV for some sort of report. The epicentre was in Kyushuu, just east of Hiroshima. There, it registered about 5 on the measurement scale (I don't know if they use the Richter scale in Japan). Here in Tokushima it was a 3. We eventually decided we were safe and went back to bed. When I told my students about my terrified earthquake antics later that day, most of them were highly amused. Many of them woke up during the shaking, and then just rolled over and went back to sleep! I can't imagine being so calmly accepting of inevetible disaster... but I suppose there aren't a lot of options. You can live your life in fear, but then you're only living half a life.
Hmmm... what else? Ah yes, I'm moving!! I'm taking a one-room apartment close to BuBu's shop. It's miniscule; the entire apartment is not much bigger than my current bedroom. There's one gas burner than my current bedroom. There's one gas burner, a current bedroom. There's one gas burner, a wee bar fridge, and a toilet/bath combo, which is very unusual in Japan, as it's considered quite dirty to bathe where you poop! You usually only see such a combination in the tiny little business hotels. The tap over the sink actually swivels so that it also performs as the tap for the bathtub; the entire apartment is quite the miracle of space-saving ingenuity. I won't have any furniture save for a small coffee table that Bubu's family is donating to my cause. I'm actually pretty enthused about my impending sparse lifestyle. I'd like to have a few pillows so that when I'm entertaining guests, they won't have to sit on the hardwood floor, but I don't imagine I'll bother getting a television or a dvd player or a couch or a bed or anything like that. What do I need them for? I'll have my futon for a bed, which I fold up and put away every morning. I'll have a few plants which I'll bring from my current apartment, my books, my art supplies, my little stereo. I've got a nice little balcony, so perhaps I'll get a chair so I can have my tea out there in the morning. The main thing is that I will only be responsible for myself, and that was part of my mission when I decided to come to Japan. I wanted to prove to myself that I am capable of functioning as an independent human being before I moved into the next stages of my life, whatever they may be. So far, so good!
We have a new teacher, a Scottish fellow named Andy. They poor bloke never learned how to ride a bicycle, so he's been having quite a time in Tokushima, the City of Cyclists. He's fallen off quite a number of times and will be well scarred up before he leaves this country! I have to pick him up on my way to work on Saturday, his first full official day at Nova Kitajima Fuji Grand; I'll be leaving VERY early. I've seen him out a couple of times now, and it's quite nice to have a new friendly face in town. However, I think I'm turning Japanese-- like most normal Westerners, he makes eye contact when we're talking, and I find myself having a hard time looking back, as is the Japanese custom-- you don't look anyone in the eyes too long because it's considered too aggressive! Anyway, maybe he can help bring me back to that fact that I AM a Westerner, and that eye contact isn't such a bad thing.
Went to Takamatsu with Yoshino last week; we had a great time, taking or bikes in the back of his station wagon. Takamatsu is the biggest city on this island, and it's about 45 minutes from Tokushima, depending on which roads you take. To get there we went through the countryside, stopping to see some famous sand hoodoos (quite like the ones on the way to Summerland from Penticton) and a shrine that was apparently filled with male and female body-part art and sculptures-- I say apparently because unfortunately, it was closed! The countryside was breathtaking, and I ooohed and aaaahed as we drove through the lush mountains and past deep gorges with deep cool streams. I saw palm trees and small houses and bimbom fruit trees (like apricots, but more tropical) little narrow streets and rich green valleys. When we got to Takamatsu, I was almost disappointed to be there; I prefered the scenery and diversity of the countryside. We first went into the Takamatsu Prefectural park; it's been cultivated for nearly 360 years, and it was quite spectacular, particulary the display of Japanese irises growing in the centre of one of the ponds. (I took lots of pictures for you, mom!) One park guide caught me messing with the carp (I was trying to pet them, of course) and instead of scolding me, he gave me a 15 minute in-depth explanation of the history of the park in perfect English. The one phrase I remember from his lecture was, "This park is arguably one of the most beautiful in Japan." I remember because I was impressed with his accurate use of the word 'arguably'. Funny how being an English teacher can suddenly make you aware of the intricacies and the ridiculousness of language in general. How often do we speak without saying anything at all?
Anyway, from there we got the bikes and rode around Takamatsu. We stopped to eat famous udon noodles-- which I had enormous difficulty eating because of my conditioned terror of making slurping sounds; I have since been admonished by several of my Japanese friends, who tell me that you cannot taste if you do not make noise! At the time though, I was so embarrased and upset by my inability to slurp that I was nearly crying, my steaming bowl still full in front of me while Yoshino had finished his. He encouraged me by telling me to "image the carp" that we had fed in the park-- with their great big sucky mouths! He also said, "Oooh, good sound!" whenever I managed a half-assed slurp. I was glad to get out of there when we were done. We went from there to a wax museum that depicted the history of the samurai wars that had happened in the area hundreds of years ago; the costumes and the faces were quite effective, but I've always been a little freaked out by life-size dummies of any sort, and so I was glad to get out of there as well. Smelled funny, too. The drive back was on a bigger highway, so no real spectacular scenery, although the sunset was gorgeous. Yoshino always plans such adventersome days, I quite like having as a friend. I'm going to have to do something for him sometime-- cook hamburgers maybe?
Anyway, I best get out of this smoky cafe and back out into the rain; it's quite windy and wet today, but very warm, so it's really not a big deal if I get soaked. Wish me well-- I've got a challenging couple of weeks ahead!
Namaste
endrene
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Hit a wall. Felt like the honeymoon was over this past week; just wanted a real barbeque, a campfire, a conversation in real English (and not about teaching or what's right/wrong with Japan). Contributing factors: 1) A bout of tonsilitis and getting lost while looking for the hospital. 2) A new room-mate is coming, potentially making our cosy Boobie Palace (as it has been dubbed by some perceptive local gaijin) even cosier, possibly crazier. 3) Tactless Japanese men. "Oh, En-Chan-- your apartment is not so small. It seems small, you and Joanna are so fat! Wa haha!" Yeah. Funny. 4) Drunk neighboor from upstairs coming home at 4 am... to the wrong apartment. When the doorbell rings and someone's pounding on the door at that time of day, you can only assume there's some sort of emergency!! My adreneline kicked into high gear as I peered through the peephole to see an angry looking Japanese guy trying to fit his key in our lock... Joanna said not to open the door, but by that point I was delerious with fright and aggression (don't know what my plan was exactly) so I opened the door and told him to go away, but he'd already heard our unfamiliar voices through the door and had taken off. Thank goodness. Met his wife in the elevator yesterday, and she only commented on the weather, so I assume he didn't say anything to her!
Had a good long chat with Maz at work yesterday, and she assured me that most foriegners hit a point where the work starts to seem repetitive and they long for the comforts of home; it was good to hear that what I was going through was normal. At any rate, I'm back to good now-- straightened my shoulders and adjusted the attitude. Eating a box of Kraft Dinner helped, too! (thanks again, Tony!)
Anyway, I thought for a laugh I would share some of my favorite Engrish text-messages. My Japanese friends sometimes send the funniest things to my cell phone, and I love them for it!
From Yuta:
Sorry! I entered and ordered menu. But I wait to come you!
From Bubu:
Please call me after work. We have to talk more about your ploblem. OK? You likes make me surprise.
And then about next topics. this is very important problems. We ate levers last night, but that levers were special one. If you buy it in supermarket it is dangeras to eat. If you want to eat levers please ask me. OK?
From Yasu:
I am in sick bay of ship named the Grandma! But, the captain is absent now, so I am lonely... It's a joke! I think you will be tired to work with sick. So hang in there!
From Shin:
By the way, Endrene, recently DANIEL POWTER is in fashion!! He is singer. He plays piano very well. Now, He is the most famous canadian in the world!! Do you know??
Betcha Daniel Powter didn't know he was the most famous Canadian in the world! But here, Japan IS the world, so if he's famous in Japan...
Anyway, to balance out my earlier nagativity, I'll list some of the things I absolutely LOVE about living here.
1) The strawberries. The happiest, sweetest, most asthetically pleasing strawberries ever!
2) The fish section in the grocery store-- it's so beautiful! So many different types and sizes and colours, all variety of clam and shellfish and seaweed... I just like to look and breathe in the salty ocean tang.
3) Yaki Nikku! Ohhhh, luscious, melt-in your-mouth Kobe beef...
4) Hanging up my wash to dry... it's quite a calming activity. I never thought I would feel that way...
5) Onsens! Bathing in the hotsprings with other women feels like a very ancient and restorative practice. I really feel like I'm in Japan when I'm at an onsen.
6) The celebration of every season. Not only do the foods change with each sub-season (late winter, early spring, spring, early summer and so on), but so do the fashions, the house decorations, the beverages sold at the supermarket... etcetera!
Had a good long chat with Maz at work yesterday, and she assured me that most foriegners hit a point where the work starts to seem repetitive and they long for the comforts of home; it was good to hear that what I was going through was normal. At any rate, I'm back to good now-- straightened my shoulders and adjusted the attitude. Eating a box of Kraft Dinner helped, too! (thanks again, Tony!)
Anyway, I thought for a laugh I would share some of my favorite Engrish text-messages. My Japanese friends sometimes send the funniest things to my cell phone, and I love them for it!
From Yuta:
Sorry! I entered and ordered menu. But I wait to come you!
From Bubu:
Please call me after work. We have to talk more about your ploblem. OK? You likes make me surprise.
And then about next topics. this is very important problems. We ate levers last night, but that levers were special one. If you buy it in supermarket it is dangeras to eat. If you want to eat levers please ask me. OK?
From Yasu:
I am in sick bay of ship named the Grandma! But, the captain is absent now, so I am lonely... It's a joke! I think you will be tired to work with sick. So hang in there!
From Shin:
By the way, Endrene, recently DANIEL POWTER is in fashion!! He is singer. He plays piano very well. Now, He is the most famous canadian in the world!! Do you know??
Betcha Daniel Powter didn't know he was the most famous Canadian in the world! But here, Japan IS the world, so if he's famous in Japan...
Anyway, to balance out my earlier nagativity, I'll list some of the things I absolutely LOVE about living here.
1) The strawberries. The happiest, sweetest, most asthetically pleasing strawberries ever!
2) The fish section in the grocery store-- it's so beautiful! So many different types and sizes and colours, all variety of clam and shellfish and seaweed... I just like to look and breathe in the salty ocean tang.
3) Yaki Nikku! Ohhhh, luscious, melt-in your-mouth Kobe beef...
4) Hanging up my wash to dry... it's quite a calming activity. I never thought I would feel that way...
5) Onsens! Bathing in the hotsprings with other women feels like a very ancient and restorative practice. I really feel like I'm in Japan when I'm at an onsen.
6) The celebration of every season. Not only do the foods change with each sub-season (late winter, early spring, spring, early summer and so on), but so do the fashions, the house decorations, the beverages sold at the supermarket... etcetera!
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Wow! Nearly 2 weeks and no posting!! Sorry to those of you who keep up with my island life, but I seem to have been coasting along mindlessly on the tides of life and have had nary a chance to stop and look around.
Ayumi's wedding party was neat; a black-tie after-wedding ceremony just for friends and co-workers. (The real ceremony is often very private, family only.) The bride and groom arrived; he in a tux and an afro wig, Ayumi in a pretty pink party dress and lots of orange leis. The atmosphere was lighthearted as we grank champange and played bingo and other party games; I was drafted for a drink-a-beer, chug-some-wine, swallow-a-banana relay race (I drank the beer). My Japanese team-mate Masa was the banana-eater; after cramming it in his mouth he had to put the peel on his head. We didn't win, but it sure was funny! Masa told me that the young Japanese people felt 'freer' than usual-- more like individuals and less like a collective-- due to the presence of foriegners. Masa and I hit it off, discussing cultural differences and pros and cons of our respective societies at great length. We exchanged numbers.
Work, work, work. The lessons are getting mindless, so I often have to remid myself that the students are here to have fun, so I better try to enjoy myself, too. I'm finding it frustrating when the students come to class and then go out of their way to not participate, but I have to remember that some people have to come because their parents or companies make them.
I caught a cold-- my first in over a year, and not a bad one, but enough to slow me down and make me groggy. I had planned a trip to Osaka to see my friend Shannon (a fellow graduate from the OUC Fine Arts Programme, and now a fellow Nova instructor), and decided not to let my cold stop me. The bus ride was quite beautiful; nearly 3 hours long and over some of the biggest and most fabulous bridges I have ever seen. It was quite different from my terrifying, jet-lagged 1st bus trip to Tokushima! I met Shannon and his friend Caroline, and the three of us set off for Kyoto on the local trains, only 40 minutes and about 400 yen (about $4) away! We met Masa (who lives in Kyoto) and he presented us with plans A, B and C for our lunch-- complete with estimated travel times to each location, and the delicacies offered by each place and so on... Shannon opted for the organic vegetarian buffet, and I was so overwhelmed with the train rides and the fact that I was in a bustling big city with PEOPLE everywhere that I agreed-- I didn't even really hear the other options. Anyway, the food was good (woulda been better if there was meat in it) and we went from there to the tenemangu shrine market-- lucky me! Only open once a month, on the 25th! The chances that I'll ever be free on a sunny 25th in Kyoto are slim, so I took photo after photo. Stall after stall-- second-hand kimonos, antiques, junk, candy shaped like cats and unicorns and devils, AnPan Man masks, goldfish, fire a BB gun and win a pack of cigarettes, get your palm read... it was absolutely overwhelming, and this was just the hundred or so stalls around the outer part of the shrine grounds!! Once in the inner part we rinsed our hands ceremoniously (thank goodness for Masa who acted as our guide and caretaker for our entire time in Kyoto) and explored. We rubbed a stone bull and then touched our heads so our brains would grow intelligent. There was one BIG shrine, then many other smaller ones spread throughout the gardens. I threw a coin into the box at the little kitsune (fox) shrine, rang the bell, clapped my hands, said hello-- then did the same at the next shrine with Shannon when Masa told us that it housed the Art gods! I spoke with some junior highschool girls who were practicing their English. They took my picture, and I took theirs. I couldn't believe how many foriegners there were; I have to admit, I've gotten used to being visually different, and didn't like the feeling of being just one more gaijin tourist.
After the market, we parted with Masa, who had a dentist appointment to attend. We three headed back to Osaka, Caroline hopped off the train and onto another to get to her house and Shannon and I headed further out into his Osaka suburb of Fujidera. What a cute little town! More like what I expected Japan to be like; traditional houses, little paved roads and traditional gardens... actually, quite a lot like the suburbs of Tokushima but with fewer apartment complexes and more rolling little hills that take the streets up and down and off in exciting directions. We stayed in his wee one-room apartment that evening, making art together and talking and drinking beer. The next day was spent exploring Osaka; I saw some wild fashions and a beautiful little gallery with Ukioe prints, but we mostly went from cafe to cafe as it was raining and we were both exhausted. I would love to go back and 'do' Osaka properly; it's such a cosmopolitan town! But in all honesty I was glad to get back to Tokushima, my own little city. Afetr Osaka and Kyoto, it feels quite a lot like home, and I realize how lucky I am to be close to Mt. Bizan and my beautiful castle park, and my rivers and rice fields. Nothing like feeling like you are in the right place at the right time!
Ayumi's wedding party was neat; a black-tie after-wedding ceremony just for friends and co-workers. (The real ceremony is often very private, family only.) The bride and groom arrived; he in a tux and an afro wig, Ayumi in a pretty pink party dress and lots of orange leis. The atmosphere was lighthearted as we grank champange and played bingo and other party games; I was drafted for a drink-a-beer, chug-some-wine, swallow-a-banana relay race (I drank the beer). My Japanese team-mate Masa was the banana-eater; after cramming it in his mouth he had to put the peel on his head. We didn't win, but it sure was funny! Masa told me that the young Japanese people felt 'freer' than usual-- more like individuals and less like a collective-- due to the presence of foriegners. Masa and I hit it off, discussing cultural differences and pros and cons of our respective societies at great length. We exchanged numbers.
Work, work, work. The lessons are getting mindless, so I often have to remid myself that the students are here to have fun, so I better try to enjoy myself, too. I'm finding it frustrating when the students come to class and then go out of their way to not participate, but I have to remember that some people have to come because their parents or companies make them.
I caught a cold-- my first in over a year, and not a bad one, but enough to slow me down and make me groggy. I had planned a trip to Osaka to see my friend Shannon (a fellow graduate from the OUC Fine Arts Programme, and now a fellow Nova instructor), and decided not to let my cold stop me. The bus ride was quite beautiful; nearly 3 hours long and over some of the biggest and most fabulous bridges I have ever seen. It was quite different from my terrifying, jet-lagged 1st bus trip to Tokushima! I met Shannon and his friend Caroline, and the three of us set off for Kyoto on the local trains, only 40 minutes and about 400 yen (about $4) away! We met Masa (who lives in Kyoto) and he presented us with plans A, B and C for our lunch-- complete with estimated travel times to each location, and the delicacies offered by each place and so on... Shannon opted for the organic vegetarian buffet, and I was so overwhelmed with the train rides and the fact that I was in a bustling big city with PEOPLE everywhere that I agreed-- I didn't even really hear the other options. Anyway, the food was good (woulda been better if there was meat in it) and we went from there to the tenemangu shrine market-- lucky me! Only open once a month, on the 25th! The chances that I'll ever be free on a sunny 25th in Kyoto are slim, so I took photo after photo. Stall after stall-- second-hand kimonos, antiques, junk, candy shaped like cats and unicorns and devils, AnPan Man masks, goldfish, fire a BB gun and win a pack of cigarettes, get your palm read... it was absolutely overwhelming, and this was just the hundred or so stalls around the outer part of the shrine grounds!! Once in the inner part we rinsed our hands ceremoniously (thank goodness for Masa who acted as our guide and caretaker for our entire time in Kyoto) and explored. We rubbed a stone bull and then touched our heads so our brains would grow intelligent. There was one BIG shrine, then many other smaller ones spread throughout the gardens. I threw a coin into the box at the little kitsune (fox) shrine, rang the bell, clapped my hands, said hello-- then did the same at the next shrine with Shannon when Masa told us that it housed the Art gods! I spoke with some junior highschool girls who were practicing their English. They took my picture, and I took theirs. I couldn't believe how many foriegners there were; I have to admit, I've gotten used to being visually different, and didn't like the feeling of being just one more gaijin tourist.
After the market, we parted with Masa, who had a dentist appointment to attend. We three headed back to Osaka, Caroline hopped off the train and onto another to get to her house and Shannon and I headed further out into his Osaka suburb of Fujidera. What a cute little town! More like what I expected Japan to be like; traditional houses, little paved roads and traditional gardens... actually, quite a lot like the suburbs of Tokushima but with fewer apartment complexes and more rolling little hills that take the streets up and down and off in exciting directions. We stayed in his wee one-room apartment that evening, making art together and talking and drinking beer. The next day was spent exploring Osaka; I saw some wild fashions and a beautiful little gallery with Ukioe prints, but we mostly went from cafe to cafe as it was raining and we were both exhausted. I would love to go back and 'do' Osaka properly; it's such a cosmopolitan town! But in all honesty I was glad to get back to Tokushima, my own little city. Afetr Osaka and Kyoto, it feels quite a lot like home, and I realize how lucky I am to be close to Mt. Bizan and my beautiful castle park, and my rivers and rice fields. Nothing like feeling like you are in the right place at the right time!
Friday, May 19, 2006
A Dutch Guy and A Funeral. Sounds like the beginning to a surrealist joke, but nope, that's my life. And oh yeah, a wedding tomorrow. But wait. Let's start at the start. Wherever that is...
First some news. This fiscal year NOVA has declared a 3 billion yen loss, due to an agressive expansion campaign, poor management and heavy competition. This explains the lack of a budget; since I arrived we haven't been able to get pens or paper or tape... or (more recently) garbage bags for our school. Or enough teachers, for that matter. They'll be closing 23 schools, and redistributing the teachers, and there's a chance my school could be one to go as it's so small, and thus not much of a money maker. I'll keep you posted on that.
Anyway... last week I kept missing calls on my cell that were marked as being from a payphone. I was baffled. Who was calling me from a payphone? Did I have a stalker? How did they get my number? Eventually I managed to answer the phone in time to have my fears relieved; a Dutch fellow I met about 2 months ago named Pele had returned from his trek around Shikoku island. I may have mentioned this before, but Shikoku is famous for the 88 Buddhist temples that ring the island, and during the spring (supposedly the most temperate and least rainy and buggy season) many devoutBuddhists and serious walkers make the pilgramage, which can take anywhere from 35 to 65 days. Pele is 21, and doing a "gap" year-- that popular and (I think) highly educational year off from school wherein one travels the world and considers the future from a global perspective. Good idea-- wish I'd done it. Then again, if I had, I wouldn't be here now. So.
I invited Pele to join us NOVA revelers that night as we bid a fond farewell to Brian at Ingrid's karaoke place. He enthusiastically accepted, and I arranged to meet up with him at Root Down first. Joanna and I arrived a bit late to find Pele was the only one at Root Down (aside from Norm, of course). He had his big backpack, his walking staff with the jingly bells (to keep the pilgrim ever-aware of the present moment) and his round straw hat and white shirt and pants, requisite of all pilgrims to set them apart and make them 'non-persons' in society. Apparntly the hat didn't fit him (he's about 6'10", and made out of elastic bands and toothpicks), so he just carried it for the entire journey. He was on the computer, pulling up his photos, and Joanna and I spent a good hour enthralled by the beauty and the severity of the pilgramage before Brian called, good naturedly demanding that we get our tushies over to Ingrid's.
Over at Ingrid's, the proverbial poop was hitting the fan; last week a gaijin 'someone' (I know who, and he's a bum-head) hit a Japanese man, apparently unprovoked. The man heard the word Nova, so all of us were grilling each other about so-and-so's whereabouts on Sunday evening... Anyway, it turned out to be a GEOS teacher, but the damage was done and Ingrid has been evicted; she'll be out of there by the end of the month, I think. Aside from the hushed tones and the tense atmosphere, everyone was having a good time and singing their usual songs-- me with my 4 Non Blondes and Madonna, Maz with some Red Hot ChiliPeppers, Jon murdering 'Bye Bye Miss American Pie'. The funniest was when Pele sang a Monty Python song... nothing like hearing someone with a Dutch accent say things like "jolly rotten"! I wasn't feeling super-duper, and had to work the next day, so I opted out at the early hour of 2 am and took Pele along; he had been going to stay the night with Norm, but all Norm had was floor space, and I could at least offer a fold-out futon-couch. The next day I woke early, cooked him breakfast and we had a good chat about the differences in the educational systems of our countries-- apparently you MUST take art in Holland, you just have to choose whether you want to do sculpture or painting or whatever. Also everyone must take at least 2 languages... which explains why Pele's English was so good. Anyway, now I have a couch to crash on the next time I'm in Holland.
The work week was long and difficult, owing to a lack of sleep and a surplus of bad weather and work (my art projects are coming due). Yesterday was a beautiful sunny day, a great day to have a day off, and at one point Joanna and I decided to go to the big supermarket and stop in at Bubu's for lunch. I was surprised to see that the shop was closed, as he's usually only closed on Mondays. I messaged him, asking Why are you closed? Are you OK? and he called me back promptly; that morning, his mother had died. I stumbled for words, not knowing what to say or how to say it in a way that would be comforting or understandable. After I got off the phone, I was racked with guilt; a few weeks before, he'd asked me to visit his mother in the nursing home, in the hopes that a foriegn face might be different enough to rouse her from her confusion and bring back her curious, light-hearted nature. I had been thinking about that promise just that morning, and had been meaning to ask him that day, When would be a good time for me to go and see her? Too late. Later on in the evening, Bubu called again to formally invite me to his mother's ceremony.
That was today. At 10:30am I stepped out my apartment door into the warm rain, dressed all in black. Bubu was waiting in his jeep, looking smart and peculiar (he's usually dressed for comfort and fun-- pink shirts and red bow ties). On the drive over the Yoshino River to the Bell Be funeral building, Bubu coached me; just watch and do what everyone else is doing. Buddhist prayer is not like Shinto prayer-- don't clap for the gods. He said also that there wasn't much sad feeling to the death, because he and his family had done the best they could. He felt that his mother's spirit was staying nearby, watching, and probably laughing. The image of a happy granny spirit hanging around and Bubu's own good natured view of the situation eased me a bit. The Bell Be building was enormous, not at all like a temple, not at all what I was expecting. The outside was non-descript, like a big tidy warehouse or winowless hotel. I entered with Bubu into the enormous lobby and headed up the big carpeted stairs to an upper level with two enormous seperate alcloves; we walked past the first one where another family's ceremony was nearing it's close. Bubu's family was scattered about the big room-- lined up all around the room were enormous floral arrangements with white mums and yellow lilies and orchids and birds of paradise-- well over 50 of them, each with a large wooden plaque declaring which important business partner had sent it. At the front of the alclove was an enourmous golden alter that took my breath away. The multitudes of flowers were arranged with mind-blowing symmetry, giant ornate golden lamps hung at either side, and a golden buddha sat snugly under a beautiful canopy of lacquered wood. Straight down from him between the sprays of orchids was a picture of Bubu's mother, beautifully framed. There were carefully arranged bananas and apples, spinning rainbow lamps, golden sculptures that looked like smoke or waves, great piles of garishly decorated cans of fruit and juice-- and there was two of everything, one on either side in this mind-blowingly perfect arrangement.
Bubu took me off to a tatami room to the side of the alter, where his family sat on cushions around the little silk-covered white coffin his mother was in. "She's only sleeping now, it's the Buddhist belief. When the monks come, the ceremony, then she will be died," he explained to me. "Come and meet her face; I think when you see her, you will know she is laughing now." I awkwardly bowed to the family and moved over to kneel by the coffin with Bubu, which was placed on the floor. Her tiny figure was dressed all in white silk and she had a little silver cloth tied round her forehead. She did indeed look asleep, placed on her side with her eyes gently shut and her mouth open as though caught in a snore. Beside her coffin was a painting she had done of the sakura (cherry blossoms) several years before; it was painted in the same park I painted the sakura. I recognized the place immediately, and was faced with a weird sensation of familiarity with this little sleeping woman. After 'meeting' Bubu's mother, I sat with the family in the room for a few minutes and was introduced as a close friend. We left the room and headed back down the stairs and through the lobby to a banquet room where lunch was waiting for us in bento boxes... I was so overwhelmed with the strange senstations and sights and the pressing desire to be polite and well-mannered that for the life of me, I cannot remember what we ate. I'm sure it was lovely. After lunch, we went to a cafe that adjoined the banquet room (is this like any funeral home you've ever heard of?) and had coffee. I happened to have my sketch book, and I was seated with Haruko and Eri (Bubu's wife and daughter), so I sketched Eri, which endeared me to her. For the first time she opened up to me and told me that she had wanted to talk to be before, but had felt too shy; I had previously taken her to be standoffish. After coffee Bubu took me to sign the register and get my gift-- at weddings and funerals (and all big events in Japan) the guests recieve gifts as tokens of the hosts' appreciation. Tucked into the wrapping paper was a card from the family (that I can't read) and a package of salt which I later had to sprinkle over myself before entering my apartment to prevent any spirits from following me in.
We headed back upstairs and were eventually seated; the 30 or so chairs closest to the alter were in two rows of threes. I sat directly behind Bubu and his family, next to an old auntie that kept on telling me to do things in Japanese that I couldn't understand (but had to figure out anyway!) I was a little nervous at sitting so close, in such a place of honor, especially since I was the only gaijin in the place. We sat quietly until two monks arrived in glorious cream robes with multicoloured mountain peaks printed on them, and golden sashes and corded ties. They seated themselves with their backs to us, the older one directly in front of the altar, and the other to the left next to some very old looking red cymbals on a stand. The older one pinged the bell-bowl, signalling the beginning of the cermony. We all rose, put our hands together, bowed. We sat back down as he began to chant. Incense burned, the bell-bowl resounded on its crimson cushion. Chanting, chanting, chanting. The grinding of a wand in a small brass bowl, waving of the wand through the streams of incense smoke, the tapping of the wand on the coffin, chanting, chanting, chanting. The two began to chant together, the younger monk began to grind his cymbals together in an ancient rhythm. I began to feel heady, uncomfortable and light at the same time. It was time for the family to rise in pairs, step forward to a tray with four bowls; two with a hot piece of metal imbedded in sand, two smaller ones with loose grains of incense. I watched carefully; step forward, bow centre, left, right. Turn to the altar, hands together, bow. pick up a pinch of incense, raise it to your forhead while looking at the buddha, then sprinkle it on the hot metal. Do this 3 times. Turn back to the mourners (now there are about 150), bow- center, left, right. The old auntie went up with someone else, so I thought I would be excused from the task, but at the end I was sent up with another auntie. It was quite unnerving, and by the time I sat back down, my head was spinning with the numbing chanting and the smoke and the dazzling excess of gold. After this, the coffin was wheeled up a bit and opened again to reveal the newly 'dead' body. The funeral home staff appeared with trays and began-- to my extreme shock-- to rip off the heads of the birds of paradise, the mums, pluck orchids and lilies and babies breath from the altar and the enormous gift bouquets, and pile these on the trays. I didnt realize what was going on until the family (myself included) moved up to lovingly fill the coffin with these flowers, and a book and a bento box filled with food for the afterlife. The lid was then placed on the coffin, and the funeral director took four gold nails and an ornate golden hammer and tapped the nails into each corner off the coffin. Then a square black stone was presented to Bubu's older brother, who tapped one nail 3 times. Then Bubu did this, then the older brother's son, then the older brother's wife. The director then gave the golden hammer to the young fellow, who went around to each corner and finished closing the coffin. One more time the family crowded around to look through the open 'doors' which were over granny's flower-framed face for one last look, then Bubu and his brother cermoniously shut them. Granny was wheeled forward and Bubu gave a speech to the crowd, and then she was wheeled away.
Are you ready for more? Because there's more.
From the lobby we took a shuttle which drove us 50 metres across the street to the crematorium. Once again we did the incense sprinkling ceremony, and had one more 'last look' through the doors at granny's sleeping face. We crowded around what looked like an elevator door-- there were ten of them all in a row in an enormous marble hall-- and watched as the coffin slid into the darkness of the chamber; the 'elevator' doors slid shut, obscuring any further view, and we all shuffled off to a tatami waiting room. At this point, I believe I was the only person still there that wasn't family, so I was grateful for the warmth and curiosity of Bubu's kin. Together we drank tea and ate sweet cakes; I sketched a poor likeness of Bubu that his family found hilarious. We waited an hour and a half while the body burned; I assumed that this was just to assertain that she was safely transformed. Well...
An announcement came over the loudspeaker that the Suzue cremation was complete. I followed the family back to the marble hall and to a room at the side of it, wherein granny's charred remains were on full display. My stomach turned a little; thankfully the next task was one I was excluded from. The family filed in while a crematorium employee used long chopsticks to break the larger pieces of bone into smaller bits. Each member of the family had to go in and use some long chopsticks to choose a bit of the ash or bone to put into the urn. Bubu went in first, and so came quickly back to where I stood by the door to explain that a little bit of every part of her had to be included. Eri came out quickly after and stood behind my shoulder snuffling while we watched; Bubu launched into a Buddhist chant which was at once protective and comforting as it covered over the low keening moans of the older women in the bone room. After 7X7 days (49), Bubu will meet again with his brother to put her ashes at her tomb.
After this we were shuttled back to the funeral home where we ate (or tried to) an enormous bento box stuffed to overflowing with an array of seafoods and fruit and amazing unidentifiable objects. I ate everthing that didn't still have it's eyes (there were 3 things in that category) including a piece of liver that Bubu mistakenly told me was a shitake mushroom. It's the first time in Japan that I've eaten something I wanted to spit out, but I managed to swallow it... apparently my facial contortions during this episode were 'cute' (according to Haruko)-- "Oo En-chan! Kawaii!" Let me tell you, the next time I have liver in my mouth, there will be no 'cute'.
Bubu drove me home, admonishing me to not forget the salt. I went up in the elevator, got in the apartment, used the toilet, opened my gift (a beautiful towel set), laid on the couch. Then I remembered. I dashed back out the door and sprinkled the salt all over myself, and came back in, amused with myself. If I've got to have a ghost in my house, who better than a laughing Japanese artist granny?
First some news. This fiscal year NOVA has declared a 3 billion yen loss, due to an agressive expansion campaign, poor management and heavy competition. This explains the lack of a budget; since I arrived we haven't been able to get pens or paper or tape... or (more recently) garbage bags for our school. Or enough teachers, for that matter. They'll be closing 23 schools, and redistributing the teachers, and there's a chance my school could be one to go as it's so small, and thus not much of a money maker. I'll keep you posted on that.
Anyway... last week I kept missing calls on my cell that were marked as being from a payphone. I was baffled. Who was calling me from a payphone? Did I have a stalker? How did they get my number? Eventually I managed to answer the phone in time to have my fears relieved; a Dutch fellow I met about 2 months ago named Pele had returned from his trek around Shikoku island. I may have mentioned this before, but Shikoku is famous for the 88 Buddhist temples that ring the island, and during the spring (supposedly the most temperate and least rainy and buggy season) many devoutBuddhists and serious walkers make the pilgramage, which can take anywhere from 35 to 65 days. Pele is 21, and doing a "gap" year-- that popular and (I think) highly educational year off from school wherein one travels the world and considers the future from a global perspective. Good idea-- wish I'd done it. Then again, if I had, I wouldn't be here now. So.
I invited Pele to join us NOVA revelers that night as we bid a fond farewell to Brian at Ingrid's karaoke place. He enthusiastically accepted, and I arranged to meet up with him at Root Down first. Joanna and I arrived a bit late to find Pele was the only one at Root Down (aside from Norm, of course). He had his big backpack, his walking staff with the jingly bells (to keep the pilgrim ever-aware of the present moment) and his round straw hat and white shirt and pants, requisite of all pilgrims to set them apart and make them 'non-persons' in society. Apparntly the hat didn't fit him (he's about 6'10", and made out of elastic bands and toothpicks), so he just carried it for the entire journey. He was on the computer, pulling up his photos, and Joanna and I spent a good hour enthralled by the beauty and the severity of the pilgramage before Brian called, good naturedly demanding that we get our tushies over to Ingrid's.
Over at Ingrid's, the proverbial poop was hitting the fan; last week a gaijin 'someone' (I know who, and he's a bum-head) hit a Japanese man, apparently unprovoked. The man heard the word Nova, so all of us were grilling each other about so-and-so's whereabouts on Sunday evening... Anyway, it turned out to be a GEOS teacher, but the damage was done and Ingrid has been evicted; she'll be out of there by the end of the month, I think. Aside from the hushed tones and the tense atmosphere, everyone was having a good time and singing their usual songs-- me with my 4 Non Blondes and Madonna, Maz with some Red Hot ChiliPeppers, Jon murdering 'Bye Bye Miss American Pie'. The funniest was when Pele sang a Monty Python song... nothing like hearing someone with a Dutch accent say things like "jolly rotten"! I wasn't feeling super-duper, and had to work the next day, so I opted out at the early hour of 2 am and took Pele along; he had been going to stay the night with Norm, but all Norm had was floor space, and I could at least offer a fold-out futon-couch. The next day I woke early, cooked him breakfast and we had a good chat about the differences in the educational systems of our countries-- apparently you MUST take art in Holland, you just have to choose whether you want to do sculpture or painting or whatever. Also everyone must take at least 2 languages... which explains why Pele's English was so good. Anyway, now I have a couch to crash on the next time I'm in Holland.
The work week was long and difficult, owing to a lack of sleep and a surplus of bad weather and work (my art projects are coming due). Yesterday was a beautiful sunny day, a great day to have a day off, and at one point Joanna and I decided to go to the big supermarket and stop in at Bubu's for lunch. I was surprised to see that the shop was closed, as he's usually only closed on Mondays. I messaged him, asking Why are you closed? Are you OK? and he called me back promptly; that morning, his mother had died. I stumbled for words, not knowing what to say or how to say it in a way that would be comforting or understandable. After I got off the phone, I was racked with guilt; a few weeks before, he'd asked me to visit his mother in the nursing home, in the hopes that a foriegn face might be different enough to rouse her from her confusion and bring back her curious, light-hearted nature. I had been thinking about that promise just that morning, and had been meaning to ask him that day, When would be a good time for me to go and see her? Too late. Later on in the evening, Bubu called again to formally invite me to his mother's ceremony.
That was today. At 10:30am I stepped out my apartment door into the warm rain, dressed all in black. Bubu was waiting in his jeep, looking smart and peculiar (he's usually dressed for comfort and fun-- pink shirts and red bow ties). On the drive over the Yoshino River to the Bell Be funeral building, Bubu coached me; just watch and do what everyone else is doing. Buddhist prayer is not like Shinto prayer-- don't clap for the gods. He said also that there wasn't much sad feeling to the death, because he and his family had done the best they could. He felt that his mother's spirit was staying nearby, watching, and probably laughing. The image of a happy granny spirit hanging around and Bubu's own good natured view of the situation eased me a bit. The Bell Be building was enormous, not at all like a temple, not at all what I was expecting. The outside was non-descript, like a big tidy warehouse or winowless hotel. I entered with Bubu into the enormous lobby and headed up the big carpeted stairs to an upper level with two enormous seperate alcloves; we walked past the first one where another family's ceremony was nearing it's close. Bubu's family was scattered about the big room-- lined up all around the room were enormous floral arrangements with white mums and yellow lilies and orchids and birds of paradise-- well over 50 of them, each with a large wooden plaque declaring which important business partner had sent it. At the front of the alclove was an enourmous golden alter that took my breath away. The multitudes of flowers were arranged with mind-blowing symmetry, giant ornate golden lamps hung at either side, and a golden buddha sat snugly under a beautiful canopy of lacquered wood. Straight down from him between the sprays of orchids was a picture of Bubu's mother, beautifully framed. There were carefully arranged bananas and apples, spinning rainbow lamps, golden sculptures that looked like smoke or waves, great piles of garishly decorated cans of fruit and juice-- and there was two of everything, one on either side in this mind-blowingly perfect arrangement.
Bubu took me off to a tatami room to the side of the alter, where his family sat on cushions around the little silk-covered white coffin his mother was in. "She's only sleeping now, it's the Buddhist belief. When the monks come, the ceremony, then she will be died," he explained to me. "Come and meet her face; I think when you see her, you will know she is laughing now." I awkwardly bowed to the family and moved over to kneel by the coffin with Bubu, which was placed on the floor. Her tiny figure was dressed all in white silk and she had a little silver cloth tied round her forehead. She did indeed look asleep, placed on her side with her eyes gently shut and her mouth open as though caught in a snore. Beside her coffin was a painting she had done of the sakura (cherry blossoms) several years before; it was painted in the same park I painted the sakura. I recognized the place immediately, and was faced with a weird sensation of familiarity with this little sleeping woman. After 'meeting' Bubu's mother, I sat with the family in the room for a few minutes and was introduced as a close friend. We left the room and headed back down the stairs and through the lobby to a banquet room where lunch was waiting for us in bento boxes... I was so overwhelmed with the strange senstations and sights and the pressing desire to be polite and well-mannered that for the life of me, I cannot remember what we ate. I'm sure it was lovely. After lunch, we went to a cafe that adjoined the banquet room (is this like any funeral home you've ever heard of?) and had coffee. I happened to have my sketch book, and I was seated with Haruko and Eri (Bubu's wife and daughter), so I sketched Eri, which endeared me to her. For the first time she opened up to me and told me that she had wanted to talk to be before, but had felt too shy; I had previously taken her to be standoffish. After coffee Bubu took me to sign the register and get my gift-- at weddings and funerals (and all big events in Japan) the guests recieve gifts as tokens of the hosts' appreciation. Tucked into the wrapping paper was a card from the family (that I can't read) and a package of salt which I later had to sprinkle over myself before entering my apartment to prevent any spirits from following me in.
We headed back upstairs and were eventually seated; the 30 or so chairs closest to the alter were in two rows of threes. I sat directly behind Bubu and his family, next to an old auntie that kept on telling me to do things in Japanese that I couldn't understand (but had to figure out anyway!) I was a little nervous at sitting so close, in such a place of honor, especially since I was the only gaijin in the place. We sat quietly until two monks arrived in glorious cream robes with multicoloured mountain peaks printed on them, and golden sashes and corded ties. They seated themselves with their backs to us, the older one directly in front of the altar, and the other to the left next to some very old looking red cymbals on a stand. The older one pinged the bell-bowl, signalling the beginning of the cermony. We all rose, put our hands together, bowed. We sat back down as he began to chant. Incense burned, the bell-bowl resounded on its crimson cushion. Chanting, chanting, chanting. The grinding of a wand in a small brass bowl, waving of the wand through the streams of incense smoke, the tapping of the wand on the coffin, chanting, chanting, chanting. The two began to chant together, the younger monk began to grind his cymbals together in an ancient rhythm. I began to feel heady, uncomfortable and light at the same time. It was time for the family to rise in pairs, step forward to a tray with four bowls; two with a hot piece of metal imbedded in sand, two smaller ones with loose grains of incense. I watched carefully; step forward, bow centre, left, right. Turn to the altar, hands together, bow. pick up a pinch of incense, raise it to your forhead while looking at the buddha, then sprinkle it on the hot metal. Do this 3 times. Turn back to the mourners (now there are about 150), bow- center, left, right. The old auntie went up with someone else, so I thought I would be excused from the task, but at the end I was sent up with another auntie. It was quite unnerving, and by the time I sat back down, my head was spinning with the numbing chanting and the smoke and the dazzling excess of gold. After this, the coffin was wheeled up a bit and opened again to reveal the newly 'dead' body. The funeral home staff appeared with trays and began-- to my extreme shock-- to rip off the heads of the birds of paradise, the mums, pluck orchids and lilies and babies breath from the altar and the enormous gift bouquets, and pile these on the trays. I didnt realize what was going on until the family (myself included) moved up to lovingly fill the coffin with these flowers, and a book and a bento box filled with food for the afterlife. The lid was then placed on the coffin, and the funeral director took four gold nails and an ornate golden hammer and tapped the nails into each corner off the coffin. Then a square black stone was presented to Bubu's older brother, who tapped one nail 3 times. Then Bubu did this, then the older brother's son, then the older brother's wife. The director then gave the golden hammer to the young fellow, who went around to each corner and finished closing the coffin. One more time the family crowded around to look through the open 'doors' which were over granny's flower-framed face for one last look, then Bubu and his brother cermoniously shut them. Granny was wheeled forward and Bubu gave a speech to the crowd, and then she was wheeled away.
Are you ready for more? Because there's more.
From the lobby we took a shuttle which drove us 50 metres across the street to the crematorium. Once again we did the incense sprinkling ceremony, and had one more 'last look' through the doors at granny's sleeping face. We crowded around what looked like an elevator door-- there were ten of them all in a row in an enormous marble hall-- and watched as the coffin slid into the darkness of the chamber; the 'elevator' doors slid shut, obscuring any further view, and we all shuffled off to a tatami waiting room. At this point, I believe I was the only person still there that wasn't family, so I was grateful for the warmth and curiosity of Bubu's kin. Together we drank tea and ate sweet cakes; I sketched a poor likeness of Bubu that his family found hilarious. We waited an hour and a half while the body burned; I assumed that this was just to assertain that she was safely transformed. Well...
An announcement came over the loudspeaker that the Suzue cremation was complete. I followed the family back to the marble hall and to a room at the side of it, wherein granny's charred remains were on full display. My stomach turned a little; thankfully the next task was one I was excluded from. The family filed in while a crematorium employee used long chopsticks to break the larger pieces of bone into smaller bits. Each member of the family had to go in and use some long chopsticks to choose a bit of the ash or bone to put into the urn. Bubu went in first, and so came quickly back to where I stood by the door to explain that a little bit of every part of her had to be included. Eri came out quickly after and stood behind my shoulder snuffling while we watched; Bubu launched into a Buddhist chant which was at once protective and comforting as it covered over the low keening moans of the older women in the bone room. After 7X7 days (49), Bubu will meet again with his brother to put her ashes at her tomb.
After this we were shuttled back to the funeral home where we ate (or tried to) an enormous bento box stuffed to overflowing with an array of seafoods and fruit and amazing unidentifiable objects. I ate everthing that didn't still have it's eyes (there were 3 things in that category) including a piece of liver that Bubu mistakenly told me was a shitake mushroom. It's the first time in Japan that I've eaten something I wanted to spit out, but I managed to swallow it... apparently my facial contortions during this episode were 'cute' (according to Haruko)-- "Oo En-chan! Kawaii!" Let me tell you, the next time I have liver in my mouth, there will be no 'cute'.
Bubu drove me home, admonishing me to not forget the salt. I went up in the elevator, got in the apartment, used the toilet, opened my gift (a beautiful towel set), laid on the couch. Then I remembered. I dashed back out the door and sprinkled the salt all over myself, and came back in, amused with myself. If I've got to have a ghost in my house, who better than a laughing Japanese artist granny?
Friday, May 12, 2006
On wednesday after work, I couldn't find my bike key. Not in my purse, my pockets, in the bike lock... nowhere. It was 9 pm, and raining, and you may recall that I live several kilometers from work, so I was not exactly thrilled at the prospect of walking home. Luckily Dan offered me a ride, and so I bid a fond sayonara to my blue Crispy and took the ride. I wasn't overly concerned about it, simply because I have a spare key at home, and it gave me a chance to talk with Dan; he'll be heading back to Australia soon, for good. So I soaked up as much advice and information as I could on the short ride-- a good place for Yakitori, how to make certain lessons interesting, which people that used to work at Nova were real Bitches, how the sale of his various accumulated belongings was going. It's amazing to me how many shards of humanity I come in contact with-- all of these random pieces of information, mundane and otherwise become lodged in my brain like shrapnel. Joe got his tattoo in Amsterdam in 1997. Bo thinks Asian women have skin that is as soft and smooth as marshmallows. D really wants to meet a guy, but she just isn't attracted to Asian men. This woman here used to be married to a Yakuza, that guy there had a three bedroom apartment to himself in Kansas about 15 years ago, and he only paid $150 a month for it. You see? What do I do with all of this random samplings of life?
Today I walked back to my Crispy bike with my spare key. It took about an hour and a half, and the day was bright and breezy, my favorite kind of weather. I wore my baseball cap (it says 'boogiiiieeee' and has a funny surfer picture on it) and big dark glasses so that I could stare at whomever I wished to stare at. I meandered; stopped to smell roses and peer over walls into secret gardens. I decided to cut through the Shikoku University campus, which I usually zip around on my bicycle. I'd never actually been on the campus before. I almost couldn't breathe; the liveliness of the colourful students was so thick and tangible. Everywhere were groups of laughing beautiful girls in tights and rainbow flats and scarves in their hair, everywhere were posturing young men, slim and carelessly elegant, calling out to one another, sitting on the grass, the benches, the low walls. The sound of Awa dance music reverberated from a hidden practice hall-- I felt the throb of the big drums, the high cry of the flutes and tamborines. At that moment I was stunned by a feeling of enormous regret; one life is not enough. I wished I could be young and beautiful and intimate with every culture, every country of the world. I want to dance all the dances, I want to fall in love over and over and over. In my heart I know that there is nothing better I can do than to fully inhabit this one life, to remain completely present and grateful for what I have, and to gracefully accept the inevitability of the passing of all things. To give thanks for what is, and what has been. To have enthusiasm and courage for the future, and the changes it will bring. But today I cried. Today I was unable or unwilling to be graceful about the passing of time. I wanted to hang on to the raw, optimistic power of youth, and never let it go.
As I passed through the campus and over the last of the three bridges I cross on my way to work, I opened my arms to the world and decided to accept it all. This is Me, this is Now. This is Japan, and I am halfway to 28 years old. I don't know what's next, but I am not afraid. Because right now I feel right and good and strong. I still have raw optimism and deep wells of power. And no-one said I had to let these things go.
Today I walked back to my Crispy bike with my spare key. It took about an hour and a half, and the day was bright and breezy, my favorite kind of weather. I wore my baseball cap (it says 'boogiiiieeee' and has a funny surfer picture on it) and big dark glasses so that I could stare at whomever I wished to stare at. I meandered; stopped to smell roses and peer over walls into secret gardens. I decided to cut through the Shikoku University campus, which I usually zip around on my bicycle. I'd never actually been on the campus before. I almost couldn't breathe; the liveliness of the colourful students was so thick and tangible. Everywhere were groups of laughing beautiful girls in tights and rainbow flats and scarves in their hair, everywhere were posturing young men, slim and carelessly elegant, calling out to one another, sitting on the grass, the benches, the low walls. The sound of Awa dance music reverberated from a hidden practice hall-- I felt the throb of the big drums, the high cry of the flutes and tamborines. At that moment I was stunned by a feeling of enormous regret; one life is not enough. I wished I could be young and beautiful and intimate with every culture, every country of the world. I want to dance all the dances, I want to fall in love over and over and over. In my heart I know that there is nothing better I can do than to fully inhabit this one life, to remain completely present and grateful for what I have, and to gracefully accept the inevitability of the passing of all things. To give thanks for what is, and what has been. To have enthusiasm and courage for the future, and the changes it will bring. But today I cried. Today I was unable or unwilling to be graceful about the passing of time. I wanted to hang on to the raw, optimistic power of youth, and never let it go.
As I passed through the campus and over the last of the three bridges I cross on my way to work, I opened my arms to the world and decided to accept it all. This is Me, this is Now. This is Japan, and I am halfway to 28 years old. I don't know what's next, but I am not afraid. Because right now I feel right and good and strong. I still have raw optimism and deep wells of power. And no-one said I had to let these things go.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Boys' Day has turned out to be a bit of a dissapointment, festivities-wise-- I suppose families just stay in and exchange gifts in the morning, and then go to the park to ride bikes and enjoy the sunny weather. It's like Christmas, except for the sunny weather part! And it really is beautiful today-- for a while I was beginning to doubt that the palm trees that dot the city were real! But now everyone's out in shorts and tank-tops, and the ladies are beginning to don their white gloves (to protect their hands from getting an unsightly sun-tan) and carrying their sun-umbrellas. White skin is so beautiful here; every other day I get some Japanese lady complimenting me on my white skin, to which I usually shrug my shoulders and say, "demo watashi wa gaijin," as if to say that it's not like I had a lot of choice in terms of my skin colour. But it is nice to not feel the usual early-summer pressure from the media to buy passes to the tanning salon or an array of browning creams; for once I can fully relax into my shockingly white body, and unabashedly smear myself with SPF 50.
My friend Yoshino had invited me out to Anan city for the day to try some of the local cuisine, but I'm glad I turned him down; it'll be nice to get out on my own and just have a day for getting things done. Although the banks and post offices are closed... sorry dad, looks like your birthday gift will be late too...
I had a nice day off yesterday, beginning with a visit with my good friend Brian. He'll be leaving to teach in Korea soon, and I'll really miss him. He's a kindred spirit, spirituality-wise. We talked at great length yesterday about our theories on the karmic cycle, and his experiences with Native North American shamanism, and the totality of yogic practice. He's had quite an array of experiences and it's been nice to learn from him. I'm thinking about trying this 10-day silent retreat in Thailand when my year in Japan is up... As a parting gesture, he gifted me with a wealth of books; Japanese cook books, easy Japanese language and travel guides, a dictionary, and a lovely package with two books on Japanese brush painting and the brushes, ink and paper... everything I need to get started. I now have 4 books on Japanese brush painting, and should maybe take it as some sort of sign that I need to refocus on my art practice. I've backed off quite a bit from my creativity since Joanna arrived, since I can't spread out in the apartment as much as I used to. That, and I've been over-booking myself socially. Fun, but not always productive.
So, from Brian's house I cycled waaaaaay out of town with my camera along the riverside, nearly out to the ferry terminal that takes one to the mainland. I took pictures of boats and sightseers and girls on bicycles. I watched 6 herons flying against the wind and dipping into the river alongside 3 hawks, all of them competing for a taste of a school of fish that was swarming up the river. I watched children slide down a giant pink octopus in an underwater-themed playground. I went shopping and bought my dad a birthday gift, and a hilarious device that looks like a cat's arm-- I have no idea what it's for, but you pull a little trigger and the paw curls and claws come out-- it's quite realistic and very strange! I ate at Mos Burger (I think I had a chicken omelete burger, but I'll never know for sure) and cycled back, enjoying the wind and the sun, the blowing green grass and the salty air. Of course, I was pulled over by the police to check my bike registration, but luckily it was the same guy who pulled me over the first time, so he let me go fairly quickly.
Last night Joanna and I went to Bubu's house for dinner-- Bubu was his usual congenial, jokey self, and told me right off that my nose piercing made me look like a cow. Whenever I get offended (which happens frequently since he like to tease about weight) he's quick to say, "Joke, JOKE desu yo!" (it's a joke, really!) I've gotten used to it. He happily presented Jonanna with the kanji for her name-- he said it was a "poetyist's" (poet's) name: JO (castle) AN (apricot) NA (leafy green vegtable)-- because she was born in Newcastle and she's a vegetarian. We worked on my name for a bit, but it was a little more difficult, and we didn't finish-- we got as far as EN (the connection you feel when you meet a special person-- the 'spark') DO (propriety or good manners) ... RE was undetermined, and NE is the person or being who connects the spiritual world with the mundane, like a priest or an angel. I'm stoked to see the finished product. Dinner was great; we ate pizza that we made ourselves, and pasta and salad and cake, and freshly caught sashimi... I ate far too much of everything, and feel a bit waddly today. Even Bubu and Haruko's daughter Eri joined in on the fun at the table-- she usually hangs back a bit and watches. Joanna pointed out that if her dad was constantly bringing home an assortment of odd young people for dinner, she might hang back too... fair enough! Through Bubu's dinners I've certainly met a lot of Japanese people I might never have met otherwise; a portrait photographer, a landscaper, a buddhist bishop, a sailor... a near-complete cross-section of society.
Anyway, it's a beautiful day and I ought to get out and play...
Namaste
endrene
My friend Yoshino had invited me out to Anan city for the day to try some of the local cuisine, but I'm glad I turned him down; it'll be nice to get out on my own and just have a day for getting things done. Although the banks and post offices are closed... sorry dad, looks like your birthday gift will be late too...
I had a nice day off yesterday, beginning with a visit with my good friend Brian. He'll be leaving to teach in Korea soon, and I'll really miss him. He's a kindred spirit, spirituality-wise. We talked at great length yesterday about our theories on the karmic cycle, and his experiences with Native North American shamanism, and the totality of yogic practice. He's had quite an array of experiences and it's been nice to learn from him. I'm thinking about trying this 10-day silent retreat in Thailand when my year in Japan is up... As a parting gesture, he gifted me with a wealth of books; Japanese cook books, easy Japanese language and travel guides, a dictionary, and a lovely package with two books on Japanese brush painting and the brushes, ink and paper... everything I need to get started. I now have 4 books on Japanese brush painting, and should maybe take it as some sort of sign that I need to refocus on my art practice. I've backed off quite a bit from my creativity since Joanna arrived, since I can't spread out in the apartment as much as I used to. That, and I've been over-booking myself socially. Fun, but not always productive.
So, from Brian's house I cycled waaaaaay out of town with my camera along the riverside, nearly out to the ferry terminal that takes one to the mainland. I took pictures of boats and sightseers and girls on bicycles. I watched 6 herons flying against the wind and dipping into the river alongside 3 hawks, all of them competing for a taste of a school of fish that was swarming up the river. I watched children slide down a giant pink octopus in an underwater-themed playground. I went shopping and bought my dad a birthday gift, and a hilarious device that looks like a cat's arm-- I have no idea what it's for, but you pull a little trigger and the paw curls and claws come out-- it's quite realistic and very strange! I ate at Mos Burger (I think I had a chicken omelete burger, but I'll never know for sure) and cycled back, enjoying the wind and the sun, the blowing green grass and the salty air. Of course, I was pulled over by the police to check my bike registration, but luckily it was the same guy who pulled me over the first time, so he let me go fairly quickly.
Last night Joanna and I went to Bubu's house for dinner-- Bubu was his usual congenial, jokey self, and told me right off that my nose piercing made me look like a cow. Whenever I get offended (which happens frequently since he like to tease about weight) he's quick to say, "Joke, JOKE desu yo!" (it's a joke, really!) I've gotten used to it. He happily presented Jonanna with the kanji for her name-- he said it was a "poetyist's" (poet's) name: JO (castle) AN (apricot) NA (leafy green vegtable)-- because she was born in Newcastle and she's a vegetarian. We worked on my name for a bit, but it was a little more difficult, and we didn't finish-- we got as far as EN (the connection you feel when you meet a special person-- the 'spark') DO (propriety or good manners) ... RE was undetermined, and NE is the person or being who connects the spiritual world with the mundane, like a priest or an angel. I'm stoked to see the finished product. Dinner was great; we ate pizza that we made ourselves, and pasta and salad and cake, and freshly caught sashimi... I ate far too much of everything, and feel a bit waddly today. Even Bubu and Haruko's daughter Eri joined in on the fun at the table-- she usually hangs back a bit and watches. Joanna pointed out that if her dad was constantly bringing home an assortment of odd young people for dinner, she might hang back too... fair enough! Through Bubu's dinners I've certainly met a lot of Japanese people I might never have met otherwise; a portrait photographer, a landscaper, a buddhist bishop, a sailor... a near-complete cross-section of society.
Anyway, it's a beautiful day and I ought to get out and play...
Namaste
endrene
Monday, May 01, 2006
All of the roads and alleys are scented with blooming flowers; there's so much cement everywhere that people make an incredible effort to make sure that every available nook and cranny is bursting with beautiful greenery and explosive rainbows of colour. All along the main roads the neat azaleas that have been green up to now are a riot of pink and white and fuscia. It's starting to feel like summer might actually come, and it might actually be really hot.
Right now McDonalds is featuring a green tea milkshake in honor of Golden Week-- could I be any happier? Golden Week has brough an influx of rowdy young Japanese, ready for some 'enjoy time', so propositions from strangers have stepped up a notch. Come on... I do not look like a hostess! I'm so buttoned down (thanks to Nova dress code) that I could pass for a mormon maybe, but not a hostess...
Didn't make it to the festival in time; it was all over by the time I got out of here. But Boy's Day is on the 5th and I have that off, so let's hope I can take part in the festivities! Already the big carp windsocks are sailing in the breeze-- one for each male member of a household. The biggest one I've seen so far was about 20 feet long, and decorated with gold along each scale. They are quite spectacular! You can buy mini-carp windsocks-on-a-stick with candy attached to a plastic cup, decorated with your favorite anime characters, like Pikachu or Anpanman (a very popular superhero made out of bread).
Last night was Joanna's welcome party, and little Mari's farewell party. She worked at the downtown Nova, and is much loved by both the teachers and the other Nova Japanese staff. She's leaving Nova to be a shufu (housewife)... it's still common for women to leave work once they have gotten married so that they can focus on making babies and caring for their home. I think that it's excellent, as long as it's what you really want to do. We had the party at Domo Domo, everybody's favorite izakaya (like an upscale pub) and it got quite rowdy: Bani did a very accurate hacka (spelling?), the Maori war dance/song... all of the Nova Japanese staff (women) were groping Joanna's G-Cup breasts and squealing with awe and excitement, Neil was going about to everyone and making them take shots of sake, and I managed to catch a glass with my skirt and break it --everyone's in stockinged feet, of course! Once the glass was cleared up, group photos were taken and we paid our bill, about 12 of us moved to the Karaoke Box next door with our party, and rented a room. Tambourines were provided and it wasn't long before we were bouncing on the couches and dancing around the little room like dervishes, singing Madonna and 80's tunes and sad Japanese love songs. Best song of the night: The JapSpanglish version of La Vida Loca, sung by one of the Japanese staff and Bani. Worst song of the night: Jon's rendition of Like a Virgin. Sorry Jon-- you do suck. The cool thing is that you keep doing it anyway... I've got to cut a cd of all the Nova teachers singing before I come back to Canada!
Right now McDonalds is featuring a green tea milkshake in honor of Golden Week-- could I be any happier? Golden Week has brough an influx of rowdy young Japanese, ready for some 'enjoy time', so propositions from strangers have stepped up a notch. Come on... I do not look like a hostess! I'm so buttoned down (thanks to Nova dress code) that I could pass for a mormon maybe, but not a hostess...
Didn't make it to the festival in time; it was all over by the time I got out of here. But Boy's Day is on the 5th and I have that off, so let's hope I can take part in the festivities! Already the big carp windsocks are sailing in the breeze-- one for each male member of a household. The biggest one I've seen so far was about 20 feet long, and decorated with gold along each scale. They are quite spectacular! You can buy mini-carp windsocks-on-a-stick with candy attached to a plastic cup, decorated with your favorite anime characters, like Pikachu or Anpanman (a very popular superhero made out of bread).
Last night was Joanna's welcome party, and little Mari's farewell party. She worked at the downtown Nova, and is much loved by both the teachers and the other Nova Japanese staff. She's leaving Nova to be a shufu (housewife)... it's still common for women to leave work once they have gotten married so that they can focus on making babies and caring for their home. I think that it's excellent, as long as it's what you really want to do. We had the party at Domo Domo, everybody's favorite izakaya (like an upscale pub) and it got quite rowdy: Bani did a very accurate hacka (spelling?), the Maori war dance/song... all of the Nova Japanese staff (women) were groping Joanna's G-Cup breasts and squealing with awe and excitement, Neil was going about to everyone and making them take shots of sake, and I managed to catch a glass with my skirt and break it --everyone's in stockinged feet, of course! Once the glass was cleared up, group photos were taken and we paid our bill, about 12 of us moved to the Karaoke Box next door with our party, and rented a room. Tambourines were provided and it wasn't long before we were bouncing on the couches and dancing around the little room like dervishes, singing Madonna and 80's tunes and sad Japanese love songs. Best song of the night: The JapSpanglish version of La Vida Loca, sung by one of the Japanese staff and Bani. Worst song of the night: Jon's rendition of Like a Virgin. Sorry Jon-- you do suck. The cool thing is that you keep doing it anyway... I've got to cut a cd of all the Nova teachers singing before I come back to Canada!
Friday, April 28, 2006
Harrowing day at the post office... I decided that it was finally time to send my mom her birthday gift (only 4 months late) and a little package off to the Barrells, and so loaded up my goodie bag with all sorts of treasures: melon choclates, juice boxes of sake, dried-baby-salmon-and-cashew snacks, dozens of tissue packages (handed out instead of flyers for advertising here), a replica ramen truck for Nolan, a replica Japanese woman for my brother, gum, candies etc, etc. I purchased my boxes, filled them up, took them to the counter, and that's when the fun began. Japanese staff want to make sure you have every opportunity to choose the option that's right for you, but when we have hit a wall as far as limited language skills go, I really just want to be told what to do. I just kept on repeating wakarimasen, daijobu? wakarimasen, daijobu. (I don't understand, OK? Anything is OK, because I don't understand.) Everthing had to be unpacked, itemized. The sake was not an allowable item. OK. Everything was repacked. Then everything had to be taken out again and weighed individually, including the 2 dozen tissue-packs. I lost it. I teared up, ran my fingers through my hair, said "Chigau, CHIGAU, Totemo muzukashi desu! I give up, it's too difficult!" I huffily stomped off, emptied the boxes into a plastic back, stomped out, kicked my bicycle, rode off to the alley near here, kicked and swore at my bicycle as I parked it, and stomped some more right up into the Heartland Cafe. Two free melon slushes and an email-check later, I feel better, if a little sheepish. I didn't want to be that gaijin girl, the one who gets angry in Japan because things are different. I mean; it's not my country, of course things aren't going to be easy... but sometimes I can't help wishing they were. All I can do is keep plowing along with my Japanese language studies.
I think my rage at being misunderstood, and constantly misunderstanding has been building up over the last few days; my visit to the hospital was a farce as I waited for a full hour and a half in the wrong hospital... when I got up to the counter, I coulnd't explain what was wrong, so I drew a graphic picture. The nurse looked quite shocked when I showed it to her. She shook her head, saying she didn't understand, so-- waiting room full of curious patients be damned, I pointed to my crotch and said kore wa itai! (this hurts!) Only then did she explain to me that I was in an ear, nose and throat hospital... the Womens Hospital was out the door and 4 meters to the left. (Thank goodness the doctor in there had studied in the US for 3 years!) And yesterday, I decided to hang out spontaneously with my friend Yoshino. As it was a spur of-the moment decision, I had just enough time to eat a tomato and a chunk of tofu for breakfast as I dashed out the door. He and I went to Naruto, walked through the art museum (scale replicas of every famous piece of art from Western Art History, the early Greeks to the Sistine chapel to Jackson Pollack... printed on metal and ceramic so that you can touch them... so weird) for about 4 hours. "What do you want to do now?" Well, I am kind of hungry... then we went to see the famous tidal whirlpools under the Naruto Bridge. Interesting, but I'm hungry. Then we went to an onsen. It wasn't even a very good one, and now I'm really hungry. It's 7:30 pm. Not willing to put off eating any longer, I suggest we go back to my apartment, I'll cook. OK... so we're on our way, then Yoshino wants to stop at Hard Off, the Japanese equivalent of Value Village. My patience is running out, I'm dizzy. I look around Hard Off for about 5 mins, then declare, "Dekita (I'm finished), I'm HUNGRY." To which Yoshino says, "You're stubborn." I can only laugh, or else I'll cry. No, I assure him, I'm not stubborn, I'm just starving... a piece of tofu and a small tomato is not enough to keep me genki for a full 8 hours. "Oh. You're on a diet." NO. I'm NOT. I didn't have TIME to EAT TODAY. Yoshino finally clues in. "Oh. I'm very sorry." He takes the oppotunity to teach me how to say "I'm hungry" in Japanese. I was so fatigued that I don't remember it.
Today is the beginning of Golden Week, a stretch of 10 days during which most people in Japan have time off. There's a big festival in the park, and as I was on my way downtown, I could hear the exciting sounds of Taiko drums and smell the delicious aromas wafting from the various food stalls. It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining and the wind is blowing, the multicoloured banners on all the bridges and lamp-posts are rippling merrily... and I'm inside in a darkened media cafe, sulking. Guess I better knock it off!
I think my rage at being misunderstood, and constantly misunderstanding has been building up over the last few days; my visit to the hospital was a farce as I waited for a full hour and a half in the wrong hospital... when I got up to the counter, I coulnd't explain what was wrong, so I drew a graphic picture. The nurse looked quite shocked when I showed it to her. She shook her head, saying she didn't understand, so-- waiting room full of curious patients be damned, I pointed to my crotch and said kore wa itai! (this hurts!) Only then did she explain to me that I was in an ear, nose and throat hospital... the Womens Hospital was out the door and 4 meters to the left. (Thank goodness the doctor in there had studied in the US for 3 years!) And yesterday, I decided to hang out spontaneously with my friend Yoshino. As it was a spur of-the moment decision, I had just enough time to eat a tomato and a chunk of tofu for breakfast as I dashed out the door. He and I went to Naruto, walked through the art museum (scale replicas of every famous piece of art from Western Art History, the early Greeks to the Sistine chapel to Jackson Pollack... printed on metal and ceramic so that you can touch them... so weird) for about 4 hours. "What do you want to do now?" Well, I am kind of hungry... then we went to see the famous tidal whirlpools under the Naruto Bridge. Interesting, but I'm hungry. Then we went to an onsen. It wasn't even a very good one, and now I'm really hungry. It's 7:30 pm. Not willing to put off eating any longer, I suggest we go back to my apartment, I'll cook. OK... so we're on our way, then Yoshino wants to stop at Hard Off, the Japanese equivalent of Value Village. My patience is running out, I'm dizzy. I look around Hard Off for about 5 mins, then declare, "Dekita (I'm finished), I'm HUNGRY." To which Yoshino says, "You're stubborn." I can only laugh, or else I'll cry. No, I assure him, I'm not stubborn, I'm just starving... a piece of tofu and a small tomato is not enough to keep me genki for a full 8 hours. "Oh. You're on a diet." NO. I'm NOT. I didn't have TIME to EAT TODAY. Yoshino finally clues in. "Oh. I'm very sorry." He takes the oppotunity to teach me how to say "I'm hungry" in Japanese. I was so fatigued that I don't remember it.
Today is the beginning of Golden Week, a stretch of 10 days during which most people in Japan have time off. There's a big festival in the park, and as I was on my way downtown, I could hear the exciting sounds of Taiko drums and smell the delicious aromas wafting from the various food stalls. It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining and the wind is blowing, the multicoloured banners on all the bridges and lamp-posts are rippling merrily... and I'm inside in a darkened media cafe, sulking. Guess I better knock it off!
Sunday, April 23, 2006
It's just after 10 pm on Sunday night... I feel like I haven't slept in weeks. I'm not feeling too hot and tried to make it to the Women's Hospital after work, but their reception was closed, so I'll just have to come back again tomorrow. I'm a little suspicious of the hospital... I keep thinking about the scene from Lost in Translation where Scarlet Johannsen's bumped toe gets blown all out of proportion, and she has to sit through hours of x-rays and consults and nonsense... I'm not even all that unwell, but the Women's Hospital is the easiest place to find an English speaking doctor; or so I'm told. I just don't want to be late for work tomorrow.
Last night the dinner party was a success, or so Joanna tells me; I was on such a stress-high that I kinda zoomed through the whole event. I made enough food for an army, and now have pounds of guacamole and (semi-fresh) salsa loitering in my fridge. Salsa with eggs, salsa sanwiches... my students are going to love the halo of garlic scent that wafts in with Endrene-Sensei tomorrow. The dinner itself was pretty good; Bubu's wife Haruko said that she had "never had taste like it before"... actually, neither had I. I couldn't find any taco shells, and had to use those gummy rice-paper wraps in their stead! I don't reccomend it very highly. About 10 people including Joanna and myself ate the meal together, including a large Buddhist Bishop who spent most of the evening relaying mildly interesting puns to me (for example, the English word 'synchronicity' when pronounced with a Japanese accent, sounds exactly like the Japanese word for 'Old Chinese Man'. Wow, eh?). Most everyone could speak a little English, and so Joanna was bobarded with questions. I was mostly off the hook, although Bubu couldn't always understand "England" English, and had to ask me to repeat what Joanna had just said in "Canadian" English. Anyway, Bubu's family and friends took to Joanna like I have; she's lovely and a very relaxing presence, which is funny, becasue yesterday was her first full day of work-- it ought to be me relaxing her! She already has one student she refers to as 'The Wall'-- a girl who hangs about Nova all day, and never says a thing, just stares off into space... I think every school in the world has got to have one of those.
In he past week I've learned about the limits of Japanese customer service; everyone is dedicated to your happiness up to the point of the sale; after that, it's your problem. I took some of my earnings from my last paycheck to buy myself a nice necklace. I've never spent much on jewelry for myself before. I shopped at Ikeda, the jewelry store downstairs from my Nova. The purchasing experience was brilliant; everyone in the store fluttered about me: You are the Moths! I am the Flame! Burn Your Wings on My Stunning Presence! I was quite happy with my purchase, and wore it for the day. When I got home, before I went to bed, I stopped to admire it in the mirror once more before bed and discovered a kink I hadn't noticed in the store. "No big deal, " I told myself, "I'll just exchange it tomorrow." Well, the next day when I walked into the store with the necklace in the bag, you would have thought that I had waltzed in to take a crap on the rug; the expressions of horror and distaste that I could be so bold as to want an exchange or refund for damaged goods... I didnn't get an exchange. I didn't get a refund. I did get a whole lot of burning fury. I left politely enough; packed up my little bag, and left the store serenely. Then I stomped up to Nova and had a cry about it, while Tomomi did her best to call customer service and find out what could be done, which was nothing. Like I said, my purchase, my problem. After work that night, I went back down to Ikeda and quietly put the bag on the counter when no-one was looking and walked away. An expensive lesson; but at least now I know better. And no, I could not have kept the necklace and regifted it to someone else; it's a bad-karma necklace now. I don't want any of my friends or family touching the nasty thing.
Let's see... now that that's off my chest, I can give you a little summary of all my other going-ons...
I hung out with Shin, aka Temple-Boy, my psuedo language exchange partner. I had such a lovely time; he bought me ice-cream ("It's my treat to you," he said... cute!) and we tooled around the city on our bikes for about 2 hours, just enjoying the changing smells that spring is bringing in; new leaves, flowers, salty tidal air. We were pulled over by the police when we tried to escape them by noisily and too obviously turning down an alleyway (Shin's bike-light was out, which can mean a fine). I followed my friend Neil's advice, and played dumb; I didn't attempt to speak any Japanese, only allowed Shin to interpret as best he could, and politely handed over my gaijin card and bike registration. My air of cutesy bafflement seemed to work, as soon both officers were beaming and bowing and sending us on our way, telling Shin (who is half my size) to "look after her". Turned out that Shin didn't have to pay a fine; they only wanted to be sure that we weren't riding stolen bikes. We went from downtown to a riverside park to sit and try to talk; we fell into my old standby of exchanging cultural animal noises: "dogs say 'woof, woof', what do dogs say in Japan?" "'Wa, wa'." Then three police rode up on their scooters... after my second gaijin-card and bike-registration check, I was done for the night. Shin and I enthusistically waved goodbye to each other. Hard to believe that we could spend so much time together, never touching and hardly speaking. Nice to have a night free of innuendo and pointless babbling; just lots of innocent play and comfortable silences. Japan is really refreshing my childlike perspective... not that I'd ever lost it!
Went down to the river with Ash and Neil and Denise and Jon the other night to fire off a whack of fireworks. You know you're in Japan when a) you have to keep back from the water so as not to disturb the night-fishermen who are luring fish in with enormous incandescant lights b) You can hang around the field under a bridge and not worry about dangerous people or finding neeedles or crack-whores c) you can hang around under a bridge with fireworks d) you drink enough vending-machine booze to think it's a good idea to use your bike's basket and and seat-shaft as a launching area for bottle rockets and fountain fireworks...
I'm still really enjoying teaching, and all of my students. I just have to remember to have fun, and then they have fun, and then we all have fun together, and there's nothing like fun to grease the wheels of education! A bad day can easily be turned around by an enthusiastic or just plain funny student. Today I had this girl who is usually painfully quiet in a lucky man-toman lesson. We were doing one of my favorite lower-level lessons, Describing People's Faces. There's one activity wherein you have to fill in the blanks: Jed doesn't wear_____ and he has a big_____. Ideally, the student will say "Jed doesn't wear glasses, and he has a big beard", but the picture of Jed is pretty funny, and I've been dying for a student to say that Jed has a big something else... today I got my wish! She innocently enough tapped the picture and reported that he had a "biiiiig head" and couldn't understand when I started cracking up. It was just what I needed!
I've also been painting in the park with my friend Yoshino, and was lucky enough to see a group of college student practcing their awa dancing in the park... the Awa Odori is an enormous festival in the summer, just mad days of dancing, dancing, dancing, music, music, music. Apparently it's one of the most famous festivals in Japan; but I don't know if the dancers could look as cool in their kimonos and yucatas as they did that day in the park in their skin-tight jeans and stylish hair. One guy in particular was such a striking dancer that I marched up to him during a break in the dancing and asked him to pose for me so I could take a picture. Sheer asian-gothic gorgeousness...
inspiration is everywhere!!
Namaste
Endrene
Last night the dinner party was a success, or so Joanna tells me; I was on such a stress-high that I kinda zoomed through the whole event. I made enough food for an army, and now have pounds of guacamole and (semi-fresh) salsa loitering in my fridge. Salsa with eggs, salsa sanwiches... my students are going to love the halo of garlic scent that wafts in with Endrene-Sensei tomorrow. The dinner itself was pretty good; Bubu's wife Haruko said that she had "never had taste like it before"... actually, neither had I. I couldn't find any taco shells, and had to use those gummy rice-paper wraps in their stead! I don't reccomend it very highly. About 10 people including Joanna and myself ate the meal together, including a large Buddhist Bishop who spent most of the evening relaying mildly interesting puns to me (for example, the English word 'synchronicity' when pronounced with a Japanese accent, sounds exactly like the Japanese word for 'Old Chinese Man'. Wow, eh?). Most everyone could speak a little English, and so Joanna was bobarded with questions. I was mostly off the hook, although Bubu couldn't always understand "England" English, and had to ask me to repeat what Joanna had just said in "Canadian" English. Anyway, Bubu's family and friends took to Joanna like I have; she's lovely and a very relaxing presence, which is funny, becasue yesterday was her first full day of work-- it ought to be me relaxing her! She already has one student she refers to as 'The Wall'-- a girl who hangs about Nova all day, and never says a thing, just stares off into space... I think every school in the world has got to have one of those.
In he past week I've learned about the limits of Japanese customer service; everyone is dedicated to your happiness up to the point of the sale; after that, it's your problem. I took some of my earnings from my last paycheck to buy myself a nice necklace. I've never spent much on jewelry for myself before. I shopped at Ikeda, the jewelry store downstairs from my Nova. The purchasing experience was brilliant; everyone in the store fluttered about me: You are the Moths! I am the Flame! Burn Your Wings on My Stunning Presence! I was quite happy with my purchase, and wore it for the day. When I got home, before I went to bed, I stopped to admire it in the mirror once more before bed and discovered a kink I hadn't noticed in the store. "No big deal, " I told myself, "I'll just exchange it tomorrow." Well, the next day when I walked into the store with the necklace in the bag, you would have thought that I had waltzed in to take a crap on the rug; the expressions of horror and distaste that I could be so bold as to want an exchange or refund for damaged goods... I didnn't get an exchange. I didn't get a refund. I did get a whole lot of burning fury. I left politely enough; packed up my little bag, and left the store serenely. Then I stomped up to Nova and had a cry about it, while Tomomi did her best to call customer service and find out what could be done, which was nothing. Like I said, my purchase, my problem. After work that night, I went back down to Ikeda and quietly put the bag on the counter when no-one was looking and walked away. An expensive lesson; but at least now I know better. And no, I could not have kept the necklace and regifted it to someone else; it's a bad-karma necklace now. I don't want any of my friends or family touching the nasty thing.
Let's see... now that that's off my chest, I can give you a little summary of all my other going-ons...
I hung out with Shin, aka Temple-Boy, my psuedo language exchange partner. I had such a lovely time; he bought me ice-cream ("It's my treat to you," he said... cute!) and we tooled around the city on our bikes for about 2 hours, just enjoying the changing smells that spring is bringing in; new leaves, flowers, salty tidal air. We were pulled over by the police when we tried to escape them by noisily and too obviously turning down an alleyway (Shin's bike-light was out, which can mean a fine). I followed my friend Neil's advice, and played dumb; I didn't attempt to speak any Japanese, only allowed Shin to interpret as best he could, and politely handed over my gaijin card and bike registration. My air of cutesy bafflement seemed to work, as soon both officers were beaming and bowing and sending us on our way, telling Shin (who is half my size) to "look after her". Turned out that Shin didn't have to pay a fine; they only wanted to be sure that we weren't riding stolen bikes. We went from downtown to a riverside park to sit and try to talk; we fell into my old standby of exchanging cultural animal noises: "dogs say 'woof, woof', what do dogs say in Japan?" "'Wa, wa'." Then three police rode up on their scooters... after my second gaijin-card and bike-registration check, I was done for the night. Shin and I enthusistically waved goodbye to each other. Hard to believe that we could spend so much time together, never touching and hardly speaking. Nice to have a night free of innuendo and pointless babbling; just lots of innocent play and comfortable silences. Japan is really refreshing my childlike perspective... not that I'd ever lost it!
Went down to the river with Ash and Neil and Denise and Jon the other night to fire off a whack of fireworks. You know you're in Japan when a) you have to keep back from the water so as not to disturb the night-fishermen who are luring fish in with enormous incandescant lights b) You can hang around the field under a bridge and not worry about dangerous people or finding neeedles or crack-whores c) you can hang around under a bridge with fireworks d) you drink enough vending-machine booze to think it's a good idea to use your bike's basket and and seat-shaft as a launching area for bottle rockets and fountain fireworks...
I'm still really enjoying teaching, and all of my students. I just have to remember to have fun, and then they have fun, and then we all have fun together, and there's nothing like fun to grease the wheels of education! A bad day can easily be turned around by an enthusiastic or just plain funny student. Today I had this girl who is usually painfully quiet in a lucky man-toman lesson. We were doing one of my favorite lower-level lessons, Describing People's Faces. There's one activity wherein you have to fill in the blanks: Jed doesn't wear_____ and he has a big_____. Ideally, the student will say "Jed doesn't wear glasses, and he has a big beard", but the picture of Jed is pretty funny, and I've been dying for a student to say that Jed has a big something else... today I got my wish! She innocently enough tapped the picture and reported that he had a "biiiiig head" and couldn't understand when I started cracking up. It was just what I needed!
I've also been painting in the park with my friend Yoshino, and was lucky enough to see a group of college student practcing their awa dancing in the park... the Awa Odori is an enormous festival in the summer, just mad days of dancing, dancing, dancing, music, music, music. Apparently it's one of the most famous festivals in Japan; but I don't know if the dancers could look as cool in their kimonos and yucatas as they did that day in the park in their skin-tight jeans and stylish hair. One guy in particular was such a striking dancer that I marched up to him during a break in the dancing and asked him to pose for me so I could take a picture. Sheer asian-gothic gorgeousness...
inspiration is everywhere!!
Namaste
Endrene
Monday, April 17, 2006
Today I'm trying a new internet locale called The Heartland Cafe. It's quite intruiging, and really says alot about the Japanese obsession with privacy. The cafe is quite huge and quiet; when I entered, all I could see were racks of manga and graphic novels and dvds to the ceiling. No-one seemed to be about, but a hostess emerged from behind a curtain. I began in my usual way, "gomen ne, watashi... nihongo... sukoshi desu," (tranlation: Sorry-me-Japanese-little) and she was quick to say, "Oh, is it first time?" Yes, indeed. First time. She quickly registered me and pointed me in the direction of my booth; behind the racks of books and movies there was a deep stretch of little individual media-rooms. Mine is about 4' X 5', I have a big leather chair, a lamp, a dvd player, headphones, slippers... and free coffee. All of this for 105 yen for every 15 minutes.
Privacy is taken to extremes here-- I have yet to see a clear-glass window at street level. Every entrance is a door within a door within a door. Japan is a world of sliding secrets and veiled implications. I love it.
Ahhh... some good news. My room-mate is a dream. She's quite intelligent and funny, also a creative soul (journalism was her major at university) and she seems to have her head on straight. Joanna, I know you'll read my blog eventually, so let me say this to you here: THANK YOU FOR BEING YOU! She's from Newcastle, and has a bit of a Scottish lilt to her accent, which is quite pleasant. My first impression when I saw her at the train station was utter relief... "Oh, you're normal!" I exclaimed. She must have wondered what she was getting into... Anyway, everyone here at Nova is happy to have her. She's off doing her training in Osaka right now, so I have the place to myself again for a few days, which is nice, especially since there's no dread attached with her re-appearance.
Now for some strange things I have encountered and found the answers for: 1) Why do some Japanese guys grow one pinky-finger-nail long? Norm's response to this was, "You wouldn't ask a Canadian guy why he has a mullet." True, but I needed to know, so I asked Bubu-san, who told me that it was in part for 'fashion' (hence the equation with mullets), and also for practical reasons-- the one long fingernail can be used to peel the wrappings elegantly off of expensive cigars. 2) Why do people put bottles of water at either side of the end of their driveways? At first I thought it might be to keep bad spirits away; businesses frequently put bowls of salt on either side of their entrance doors for this purpose. The truth turned out to be much stranger; at the end of university, all of the students who kept cats as pets routinely "set them free" (which seems terribly cruel to me) and the cats run amok in the neighborhoods, using gardens as toilets and what-not. So, apparently bottled water scares cats away. I'm not sure of the reasoning behind this. 3) Why do the statues of tanuki (racoons... but they look more like obese bears wearing funny hats) have such enormous testicles? Ume said that the tanuki is a famous shape-shifting spirit who is lucky, but also a trickster; he can change into a man and convince other men to get drunk and spend all of their money on booze, so that tanuki never has to pay for himself. (We all know one or two tanukis, don't we?) Anyway, that was very interesting, but it didn't answer my question, so I approached Bubu-san again. First, he declared me a skebe (pervert) for asking, and then explained that testicles are a man's gold. Yes, gold. So, I don't really get that one either, but you can only take a query so far...
All is well with work and life; I'll be hiking a stone-buddah trail with my friend Brian on thursday, teaching an art lesson on friday, and cooking dinner for Bubu's extended family on saturday (send all of your positive cooking vibes my way; I've never prepared food for so many people).
Keep well, stay happy,
Endrene
Privacy is taken to extremes here-- I have yet to see a clear-glass window at street level. Every entrance is a door within a door within a door. Japan is a world of sliding secrets and veiled implications. I love it.
Ahhh... some good news. My room-mate is a dream. She's quite intelligent and funny, also a creative soul (journalism was her major at university) and she seems to have her head on straight. Joanna, I know you'll read my blog eventually, so let me say this to you here: THANK YOU FOR BEING YOU! She's from Newcastle, and has a bit of a Scottish lilt to her accent, which is quite pleasant. My first impression when I saw her at the train station was utter relief... "Oh, you're normal!" I exclaimed. She must have wondered what she was getting into... Anyway, everyone here at Nova is happy to have her. She's off doing her training in Osaka right now, so I have the place to myself again for a few days, which is nice, especially since there's no dread attached with her re-appearance.
Now for some strange things I have encountered and found the answers for: 1) Why do some Japanese guys grow one pinky-finger-nail long? Norm's response to this was, "You wouldn't ask a Canadian guy why he has a mullet." True, but I needed to know, so I asked Bubu-san, who told me that it was in part for 'fashion' (hence the equation with mullets), and also for practical reasons-- the one long fingernail can be used to peel the wrappings elegantly off of expensive cigars. 2) Why do people put bottles of water at either side of the end of their driveways? At first I thought it might be to keep bad spirits away; businesses frequently put bowls of salt on either side of their entrance doors for this purpose. The truth turned out to be much stranger; at the end of university, all of the students who kept cats as pets routinely "set them free" (which seems terribly cruel to me) and the cats run amok in the neighborhoods, using gardens as toilets and what-not. So, apparently bottled water scares cats away. I'm not sure of the reasoning behind this. 3) Why do the statues of tanuki (racoons... but they look more like obese bears wearing funny hats) have such enormous testicles? Ume said that the tanuki is a famous shape-shifting spirit who is lucky, but also a trickster; he can change into a man and convince other men to get drunk and spend all of their money on booze, so that tanuki never has to pay for himself. (We all know one or two tanukis, don't we?) Anyway, that was very interesting, but it didn't answer my question, so I approached Bubu-san again. First, he declared me a skebe (pervert) for asking, and then explained that testicles are a man's gold. Yes, gold. So, I don't really get that one either, but you can only take a query so far...
All is well with work and life; I'll be hiking a stone-buddah trail with my friend Brian on thursday, teaching an art lesson on friday, and cooking dinner for Bubu's extended family on saturday (send all of your positive cooking vibes my way; I've never prepared food for so many people).
Keep well, stay happy,
Endrene
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Finally... I've had some time off. Dan and Maz have returned from Australia, and things have returned to their 'normal' pace at Nova Fuji Gran. It's a funny place to work; the 'classrooms' are glass boxes about 7'X10' in size each, and there are four of them in a row. Both Maz and I dread having a class at the same time as Jon, especially if we are right next to his class, because he has this incredibly resonant voice that bounces and clatters into the adjacent rooms... this can be really difficult if you're stuck with the sort of students who are unwilling to speak up. I try not to get too bothered about it; it's not Jon's fault, and besides, it makes the conversations more realistic. If any of these students travel overseas, they're going to have to speak up.
Speaking of students... I had what we call a 'Lucky Man-to-man' (an unpaid-for one-on-one lesson) with one of my favorite students, S, last week. He really tries hard and is very genuine, and tries to make the lesson relevant. However, he can be pretty random when he's in a group lesson, and can easily side-track the lesson with strange questions. So, I was happy to have him alone, so he could be as random as he wanted, and I could answer all of his questions-- didn't hurt that he's cute, too. Things quickly went on a strange tangent (we were supposed to be discussing Superstitions) as he complimented me on my jewelry. "Hmm. You always wearing big necklaces... can I buy for my girlfriend?" I was baffled at first, but yes, he did indeed want to by my necklace right off of me then and there. I told him no, but if I saw any similar necklaces on sale in Tokushima, I would tell him where to go. Now, S., what do you think it means when a black cat crosses your path? "Ahhh. I have a wish. Can I ask it you? Can I touch your hand?" Uhhhhh... My cheeks flushed and my blood ran cold... that was the kind of stuff that I'd heard that Nova teachers could get fired for, and I quickly explained to S. that I am his teacher and he is my student and... Anyway, he looked sorta crestfallen and my nerves were jangling for the rest of the lesson; even lucky number seven and why it's bad luck to cut your toenails after midnight couldn't resurrect the good vibes. Not that I'm complaining... I've got proof that I'm a sexy teacher!
Last week I indulged in a flurry of free-time fun, happy to finally have two days off in a row I turned two into 5 nights of footloose fantasy. On Wednesday evening I met with Neil (USA) and Ash (Australia-- both work at the other Nova) for Yaki Tori (meat on a stick) at the one restaurant that I have consistently patronized (other than Big Brother's of course). One beer led to another, and I-- filled with the joyous prospect of sleeping in the next morning-- talked Ash into going out with me. He's a really cool guy; he has a good sense of humor and is at the same time very prescise and meticulous. His girlfriend is a model in Osaka; she used to live in my apartment. ANYWAY-- we proceeded to Ingrid's for karaoke. I launched into my usual limited repetoire when a group of road-tripping guys from Kobe (actually from Australia, the US and Scotland) showed up and took the bar over. One guy, who I only know now as The Devil --red eyes, pointy orange beard-- what else was I going to call him?-- proceeded to balance chairs on his head, do handstands, and moon his miniscule audience. In the middle of one of my Madonna songs, he cornered me and began to berate me for not doing more with my musical talent (ha!) which eventually led to a heated debate about art and the validity of sexually graphic art as art-- he turned out to be just another art-school graduate with nothing but sex on his mind. Nothing new there! At some point I decided that I wanted to dance and everyone had to come along to Hop (my new-found teensy-weensy dance club). I couldn't remember how to get there, so poor Ash had to lead the way. Thank goodness he stayed on, since once we were in the club The Devil wreaked havoc; dancing like a dervish, stealing my eyeglasses, making out with a Japanese girl in the corner... Ash managed to get my glasses back, and get his coat out from under The Devil and his new girl, and safely steer us both out of the club. I think it'll be a while before I go back there.
Thursday I spent the day recovering. Friday saw me hale and hearty again, so I followed Bubu's directions to the Nagao art shop-- a steamy little store about one-tenth the size of the Opus art store I worked at in Langley. It was packed to the rafters with all manner of supplies, and all in a miniscule scale. I spent about 7500 yen to get enough acrylic paint to maybe do two or three small paintings, and headed downtown to Tokushima City park to observe the hanami and paint the revelers. Once I arrived I was in awe-- the park was just filled with foamy pale-pink trees, and giant blue tarps spread out on the grass. Most of the partying starts more towards dusk, and the day was still bright and clear, so there were only a few busy picnic sites. I settled down facing one of them with my back against a tree and set up my supplies. I instantly became a flytrap for humanity. All sorts of folks came up to observe and practice their English or test my Japanese. I was amiable enough; a working artist will attract curious people no matter where they are, so they might as well get used to it. At one point, one of the guys who was actually in my picture came up to watch, and asked in a perfect Californian accent, "do you mind?" His name was Yuki; turned out that he had been a motorcross racer for years in the States before returning to Japan to start his own plumbing company. We chatted for a while, and he headed back to his party. People came and went, the light began to change, the air began to cool. When I finished, I decided to take my finished painting over to Yuki's group so they could see how integral they had been to my art. The painting was duly passed around, and I was invited to join; before I knew it I had a hot cup of sake in one hand and a plate full of tempura and taco yaki in the other. It grew dark as we laughed and talked about cultural differences-- I really appreciate the time the Japanese take to honor the changing of seasons. The park filled up and the floodlights lit up the cherry trees; we were a sea of night-blue laughter amid the fragrant glowing clouds of sakura... small peachy lanterns dotted the night like stars. People sang, drank, talked in loud and joyous voices. The men at Yuki's party repeatedly tried to buy my painting, but I refused-- I could already tell that it had solid, priceless memory value. I kicked off my shoes and ran around the trees in a game of chase with a group of small boys and a teenager in an UltraMan costume. I drank more sake. The floodlights turned off. People gathered garbage, tarps-- everyone working togther, voices still humming and happy. I helped-- then went and got my bike. Tried to spin a big circle around UltraMan in a final goodbye, fell off into the gravel cutting my hands and bruising my bottom. UltraMan helped me up like a true super-hero, checked to see that i was daijobu (OK) and sent me off. Suffice it to say, I walked my bike home.
Since that last weeked, I've been filled with renewed energy and delight; I went to Ingrid's international hanami on Sunday armed with my sketchbook and made a few more friends, and made contact with a fellow named Joe who has a PhD in Fine Arts-- his first comment to me when he saw my sketches was "Pardon my language, but what the F*CK are you doing here?!" I suppose he thinks I ought to be in New York city or something, but I can't shake the feeling that I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now. Anyway, Joe put me in touch with another guy who is having a gaijin art show in Naruto in July... (Big Brothers') Norm also said that there was another person looking for international artists for a different show. Everything is progressing nicely, and it all feels natural.
Well... tonight is the night Joanna arrives, so I best get home and finish readying the house for her. I can't wait to meet her and find out what the next stage of my adventure in Japan is going to be like! I'll keep you all posted as best I can... thanks for reading!
Namaste
Endrene
Speaking of students... I had what we call a 'Lucky Man-to-man' (an unpaid-for one-on-one lesson) with one of my favorite students, S, last week. He really tries hard and is very genuine, and tries to make the lesson relevant. However, he can be pretty random when he's in a group lesson, and can easily side-track the lesson with strange questions. So, I was happy to have him alone, so he could be as random as he wanted, and I could answer all of his questions-- didn't hurt that he's cute, too. Things quickly went on a strange tangent (we were supposed to be discussing Superstitions) as he complimented me on my jewelry. "Hmm. You always wearing big necklaces... can I buy for my girlfriend?" I was baffled at first, but yes, he did indeed want to by my necklace right off of me then and there. I told him no, but if I saw any similar necklaces on sale in Tokushima, I would tell him where to go. Now, S., what do you think it means when a black cat crosses your path? "Ahhh. I have a wish. Can I ask it you? Can I touch your hand?" Uhhhhh... My cheeks flushed and my blood ran cold... that was the kind of stuff that I'd heard that Nova teachers could get fired for, and I quickly explained to S. that I am his teacher and he is my student and... Anyway, he looked sorta crestfallen and my nerves were jangling for the rest of the lesson; even lucky number seven and why it's bad luck to cut your toenails after midnight couldn't resurrect the good vibes. Not that I'm complaining... I've got proof that I'm a sexy teacher!
Last week I indulged in a flurry of free-time fun, happy to finally have two days off in a row I turned two into 5 nights of footloose fantasy. On Wednesday evening I met with Neil (USA) and Ash (Australia-- both work at the other Nova) for Yaki Tori (meat on a stick) at the one restaurant that I have consistently patronized (other than Big Brother's of course). One beer led to another, and I-- filled with the joyous prospect of sleeping in the next morning-- talked Ash into going out with me. He's a really cool guy; he has a good sense of humor and is at the same time very prescise and meticulous. His girlfriend is a model in Osaka; she used to live in my apartment. ANYWAY-- we proceeded to Ingrid's for karaoke. I launched into my usual limited repetoire when a group of road-tripping guys from Kobe (actually from Australia, the US and Scotland) showed up and took the bar over. One guy, who I only know now as The Devil --red eyes, pointy orange beard-- what else was I going to call him?-- proceeded to balance chairs on his head, do handstands, and moon his miniscule audience. In the middle of one of my Madonna songs, he cornered me and began to berate me for not doing more with my musical talent (ha!) which eventually led to a heated debate about art and the validity of sexually graphic art as art-- he turned out to be just another art-school graduate with nothing but sex on his mind. Nothing new there! At some point I decided that I wanted to dance and everyone had to come along to Hop (my new-found teensy-weensy dance club). I couldn't remember how to get there, so poor Ash had to lead the way. Thank goodness he stayed on, since once we were in the club The Devil wreaked havoc; dancing like a dervish, stealing my eyeglasses, making out with a Japanese girl in the corner... Ash managed to get my glasses back, and get his coat out from under The Devil and his new girl, and safely steer us both out of the club. I think it'll be a while before I go back there.
Thursday I spent the day recovering. Friday saw me hale and hearty again, so I followed Bubu's directions to the Nagao art shop-- a steamy little store about one-tenth the size of the Opus art store I worked at in Langley. It was packed to the rafters with all manner of supplies, and all in a miniscule scale. I spent about 7500 yen to get enough acrylic paint to maybe do two or three small paintings, and headed downtown to Tokushima City park to observe the hanami and paint the revelers. Once I arrived I was in awe-- the park was just filled with foamy pale-pink trees, and giant blue tarps spread out on the grass. Most of the partying starts more towards dusk, and the day was still bright and clear, so there were only a few busy picnic sites. I settled down facing one of them with my back against a tree and set up my supplies. I instantly became a flytrap for humanity. All sorts of folks came up to observe and practice their English or test my Japanese. I was amiable enough; a working artist will attract curious people no matter where they are, so they might as well get used to it. At one point, one of the guys who was actually in my picture came up to watch, and asked in a perfect Californian accent, "do you mind?" His name was Yuki; turned out that he had been a motorcross racer for years in the States before returning to Japan to start his own plumbing company. We chatted for a while, and he headed back to his party. People came and went, the light began to change, the air began to cool. When I finished, I decided to take my finished painting over to Yuki's group so they could see how integral they had been to my art. The painting was duly passed around, and I was invited to join; before I knew it I had a hot cup of sake in one hand and a plate full of tempura and taco yaki in the other. It grew dark as we laughed and talked about cultural differences-- I really appreciate the time the Japanese take to honor the changing of seasons. The park filled up and the floodlights lit up the cherry trees; we were a sea of night-blue laughter amid the fragrant glowing clouds of sakura... small peachy lanterns dotted the night like stars. People sang, drank, talked in loud and joyous voices. The men at Yuki's party repeatedly tried to buy my painting, but I refused-- I could already tell that it had solid, priceless memory value. I kicked off my shoes and ran around the trees in a game of chase with a group of small boys and a teenager in an UltraMan costume. I drank more sake. The floodlights turned off. People gathered garbage, tarps-- everyone working togther, voices still humming and happy. I helped-- then went and got my bike. Tried to spin a big circle around UltraMan in a final goodbye, fell off into the gravel cutting my hands and bruising my bottom. UltraMan helped me up like a true super-hero, checked to see that i was daijobu (OK) and sent me off. Suffice it to say, I walked my bike home.
Since that last weeked, I've been filled with renewed energy and delight; I went to Ingrid's international hanami on Sunday armed with my sketchbook and made a few more friends, and made contact with a fellow named Joe who has a PhD in Fine Arts-- his first comment to me when he saw my sketches was "Pardon my language, but what the F*CK are you doing here?!" I suppose he thinks I ought to be in New York city or something, but I can't shake the feeling that I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now. Anyway, Joe put me in touch with another guy who is having a gaijin art show in Naruto in July... (Big Brothers') Norm also said that there was another person looking for international artists for a different show. Everything is progressing nicely, and it all feels natural.
Well... tonight is the night Joanna arrives, so I best get home and finish readying the house for her. I can't wait to meet her and find out what the next stage of my adventure in Japan is going to be like! I'll keep you all posted as best I can... thanks for reading!
Namaste
Endrene
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Back at the whacky keyboard at Root Down. This has been one of the busiest couple of weeks ever; we're really shortstaffed and I have been working full shifts non-stop... 10 days in a row and counting. I'm not whining... much. OK, yes I am. I'm tired! I want to go to a hanna-mi party (cherry blossom viewing)! I want to sleep in and then hang out for a whole day in my jammies! Ahhh. Venting complete. On the plus side, I am healthy, I love my job, and the weather has been pretty good. And obviously, I am not too tired to go out to the bar! Tonight is Ken's goodbye party. He's going back to Tasmania. It's too bad, I didn't get to know him very well. But he did sell me his stereo for cheap, so I can't help but be thankful for him!
Since I'm woefully behind on the updates, I'll fill you in via (somewhat) brief point-form.
* My new room-mate, Joanna, arrives from England on the 13th of April. I don't know anything about her, and I'm a little nervous.
* Ume's visit was a blast. I found out how to say Screw Off in Japanese; two versions, the polite, and the not-so-polite. Unfortunately, I don't remember either one. I also just learned that when I thought I was saying "nevermind," I was saying "danger". No wonder my kinder kids looked so scared... Ume also taught me about the whole ummm... size-issue thing. You know, the rumor about small Asian packages? Apparently, the reciprocal Japanese belief is that they are smaller, but much firmer. (!) Which seems to be the case with all packaged goods in Japan, now that I think about it.
* My bike was confiscated from in front of the train station and carted away to a bike impound the last time I blogged... whilst I was blogging, in fact. This resulted in a taxi ride to an unfamiliar part of town, finding the scary bike-barn, paying a fine to the scary man, and getting a scary scolding for parking illegally. Then I continued from there along the base of Mt Bizan to find my way home, and had a thoroughly good adventure. I visited many shrines and temples and cemetaries. I stopped at one with a Kitsune shrine (the fox-woman spirit) and as I was leaving, was approached by a (nice, polite) young guy. He's now kinda my unofficial language exchange partner; we text-message each other regularly. He's learning more English than I am Japanese.
* I went to Bubu' s house for dinner (the Okonomiyaki guy)... it was wonderful! Many women were there, Bubu being a kinda comical patriarch for the young university students that come to his shop. He did a 'fortune telling' for me. I am an Intelligent Ape. He is an Elegant Cheetah. Another girl was a Strange Pegasus... Yeah. I don't get it either! Anyway, we ate do-it-yourself sushi and tempura and drank beer until we were all satisfied. Bubu's wife and a couple of the girls wanted to touch my hair, so I let them. This prompted Bubu to ask if he could touch a couple of other things... you can guess what! My friend Norm says that you can take the nicest Japanese man, get him drunk, and then all he wants to do is touch boobies. I've found what works best is just to excalaim, "Yeah! They ARE big, aren't they!" and this seems to embarass them into submission. Anyway, no harm, no foul, and no booby-touching.
* I have a couple of great new routes to and from work-- much safer, and more scenic. I can see the changes in the fields and the ...
OK. I'm being coerced off of the computer; Jon wants to use it. Besides, I did say 'point form' didn't I? Until I have a day off...
Namaste
Endrene
Since I'm woefully behind on the updates, I'll fill you in via (somewhat) brief point-form.
* My new room-mate, Joanna, arrives from England on the 13th of April. I don't know anything about her, and I'm a little nervous.
* Ume's visit was a blast. I found out how to say Screw Off in Japanese; two versions, the polite, and the not-so-polite. Unfortunately, I don't remember either one. I also just learned that when I thought I was saying "nevermind," I was saying "danger". No wonder my kinder kids looked so scared... Ume also taught me about the whole ummm... size-issue thing. You know, the rumor about small Asian packages? Apparently, the reciprocal Japanese belief is that they are smaller, but much firmer. (!) Which seems to be the case with all packaged goods in Japan, now that I think about it.
* My bike was confiscated from in front of the train station and carted away to a bike impound the last time I blogged... whilst I was blogging, in fact. This resulted in a taxi ride to an unfamiliar part of town, finding the scary bike-barn, paying a fine to the scary man, and getting a scary scolding for parking illegally. Then I continued from there along the base of Mt Bizan to find my way home, and had a thoroughly good adventure. I visited many shrines and temples and cemetaries. I stopped at one with a Kitsune shrine (the fox-woman spirit) and as I was leaving, was approached by a (nice, polite) young guy. He's now kinda my unofficial language exchange partner; we text-message each other regularly. He's learning more English than I am Japanese.
* I went to Bubu' s house for dinner (the Okonomiyaki guy)... it was wonderful! Many women were there, Bubu being a kinda comical patriarch for the young university students that come to his shop. He did a 'fortune telling' for me. I am an Intelligent Ape. He is an Elegant Cheetah. Another girl was a Strange Pegasus... Yeah. I don't get it either! Anyway, we ate do-it-yourself sushi and tempura and drank beer until we were all satisfied. Bubu's wife and a couple of the girls wanted to touch my hair, so I let them. This prompted Bubu to ask if he could touch a couple of other things... you can guess what! My friend Norm says that you can take the nicest Japanese man, get him drunk, and then all he wants to do is touch boobies. I've found what works best is just to excalaim, "Yeah! They ARE big, aren't they!" and this seems to embarass them into submission. Anyway, no harm, no foul, and no booby-touching.
* I have a couple of great new routes to and from work-- much safer, and more scenic. I can see the changes in the fields and the ...
OK. I'm being coerced off of the computer; Jon wants to use it. Besides, I did say 'point form' didn't I? Until I have a day off...
Namaste
Endrene
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