I received some sort of 'tag' from my fabulous friend, the Divine Lady K, and now am expected to list six strange things about myself, then 'tag' six other bloggers. While I do write a blog, I am hopelessly out of touch with any sort of Internet community, so I will write the six weird things but I won't go about tagging others. (Mostly because I don't know how). Let's see...
1) My parents don't even know this: When I was in high school I had a strange paranoia about dying from spontaneous human combustion. I think I read about it in some paranormal book in the library, then I couldn't stop thinking about it. I remember sitting in my Business Ed class, and my feet were sweating, and I was thinking, "oh, how embarrassing, I'm going to combust in front of Mike Sutch," who at the time was beyond cool. Every time my feet got hot, I thought I was going to go up in flames. Which is doubly ridiculous, because if you've seen the pictures of combustion victims, usually the only thing remaining is their feet.
2) I can hand write backwards. I took a stab at writing my journals this way until I realized I was focusing too hard on writing backwards to remember to say anything interesting.
3) My eyes change colour. They are usually blue, but sometimes they are grey or green, or some mix of all three. It says they are hazel on my drivers license, which they absolutely are not and have never been.
4) My hands are about the same size, but my right thumb is significantly bigger than my left thumb. I assume this is because I sucked it until I was 11 years old. I only stopped because I had some torture device put in by the orthodontist at the time to cure my cross-bite, and my thumb didn't fit anymore. I don't think my cross-bite was much improved, but I was saved from having an enormous wrinkly right thumb and buck-teeth.
5) My knee-caps sweat when I get nervous.
6) I really, genuinely like natto. And lots of other Japanese foods that most foreigners won't touch. I hope that I just didn't talk myself into liking natto so that I could show off... but the health benefits are great, and they have a nice stinky tang to them. My Japanese 'father', Bubu, makes a killer cheese-natto okonomiyaki.
I'll have some more news in a couple of days... in the meantime, know that I am coping well, and am back to a 'happy place' (I never mope for long) and I will be looking into buying some plane tickets pretty soon. Like, tomorrow.
Namaste,
endrene
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
I have an enormous crush on Shokupanman, a flying superhero bread-man, although to be honest, Anpan (sweet bean buns) are the tastiest. So, it's no wonder that Anapnman is the most popular of these bizarre anime characters.
http://www.netgeist.com/Anpan-land/AnpanFAQ.htm
Now I'm off to the stone-artist's shop to purchase myself my final and long-coveted birthday present with the money that mom and dad sent me... a one-foot high granite Shokupanman sculpture, destined to be my greatest and most apt memento of my life in Japan. Apt because he is carved in stone like so manymanymany of the buddhas and oni and guardians of the shrines that I have observed and been observed by. And because he is a flying bread-man superhero. He doesn't make sense! He is Japan! He is cute nonsensical ridiculousness, guardian of his secret headquarters deep inside Toaster Mountain, captured in his tasty heroic pose forever!
http://www.netgeist.com/Anpan-land/AnpanFAQ.htm
Now I'm off to the stone-artist's shop to purchase myself my final and long-coveted birthday present with the money that mom and dad sent me... a one-foot high granite Shokupanman sculpture, destined to be my greatest and most apt memento of my life in Japan. Apt because he is carved in stone like so manymanymany of the buddhas and oni and guardians of the shrines that I have observed and been observed by. And because he is a flying bread-man superhero. He doesn't make sense! He is Japan! He is cute nonsensical ridiculousness, guardian of his secret headquarters deep inside Toaster Mountain, captured in his tasty heroic pose forever!
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
The last ham I ate was in the cafeteria at OUC's north campus, one winter night. I liked ham before that, but that night it occurred to me that ham tastes like people probably taste. Salty and pink and fatty. This disturbing thought didn't spur me to forgo bacon or pork chops however, so perhaps I ought to give ham another try.
Either that or obey may conscience and become a vegan...
...nahhhhhh.
Either that or obey may conscience and become a vegan...
...nahhhhhh.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
My unhappiness here spurred an onslaught of generosity and helpful suggestions and offerings of hope and support that I will be forever grateful for. I have no doubt that it's normal to feel lost and drifting when one has been living as an over sized square peg in a round hole for well over a year.
My brother was right. It's probably silly to imagine that the grass is any greener in Canada, especially from what I hear about the weather this year-- there isn't any grass to be seen! But it's not necessarily that I feel that life would be any easier or any more interesting in Canada. I'm craving a sense of fitting in. Being special is fine, for a while, but it gets old. And I just haven't gotten used to some things, like being reprimanded by those closest to me for eating too much, and constantly being told that I should diet. I suppose if I came home again, it might not be a forever-thing. I'm still not 100% sure what I want to do for work, or how I'm going to go about it, although living and working here has certainly given me a sense of perspective that I never had before.
In many ways, Carol hit the nail on the head by suggesting that I may have accomplished what I set out to accomplish by coming here. My original motivations were to see whether or not I was cut out for teaching, and to experience the Japanese culture in a more intimate way than my short home stays 13 years ago allowed. I've stayed long enough now to have completed a full cycle; already in the grocery stores I'm recognizing things that greeted me a year ago, when they were new and confusing; the packets of soybeans that are to be tossed out your door for Setsubun (February 3rd) and oni (devil) masks that the children wear to frighten the bad demons away, the racks and racks of chocolate-making kits for girls to use to impress their boyfriends on Valentine's Day. The commercials on TV have gently shifted from the warm cup-o-soup in snowy Hokkaido type, to the slow approach of the bursting cherry-blossom spring type. I feel like I've completed a circle. And could it possibly be any better the second time through? I'm reminded of a camping trip I went on with my friends from the OUC student union during my 3rd year in university. It was the Easter long-weekend, and it was absolutely magical, everything about it. The warmth and comfort we felt from each other's friendships, the brightness of the stars, the music that came so beautifully from some guy's guitar and heart. It was so wonderful, we decided to do it again the next year, after our graduations had commenced. But everything had changed. The relationships had shifted and divided; different people were included, others didn't return. The weather was cold. There was a nasty undercurrent of discontent and fear as we all faced our uncertain futures. I can't try to recreate the newness and amazement I felt a year ago. I could certainly go on trying new things and seeing new places in Japan, but I would do it with a kind of confidence that takes the sparkle off of an adventure. Not that I regret a moment of gaining this confidence and ease of living, but I do recognize it as a marker of sorts.
Thank so much to Shona and Ash for your suggestions and observations. Having lived here yourselves, you know that it isn't always a bed of tsubaki, and that the best way to keep going is to keep going, seeing, trying, experiencing. In fact, I've booked a day trip to Dogo Onsen for this coming Friday, as that was one of the MUST DO things I still hadn't done. My coworker Melissa and I are discussing getting tickets for the next Sumo Basho (tournament) in Osaka in March. I'm not giving up, and I'm not stopping until the moment I leave, that's for certain. I did consider transferring to another school or working for another company for a change of pace, but I do like the sense of home and family I've found in Tokushima; Bubu's family in particular has been a rock-solid foundation for me, and there's been nothing better for my homesickness than going into Bubu's shop for a pep-talk. "Hmmm," he observed last week, "homesick makes you like strange! You forget how to live in Japan!" He does his best to lift me up, suggest what to do and where to go, and of course gives me the usual unwelcome advice about diet and exercise. I have re-applied for my visa, but foolishly only applied for the one-year extension; at the time, I didn't consider that getting the three-year visa would open things up for me should I decide to return in the near future. But for now, the one extra year feels like more than enough.
Oh yes, I do have gypsy-toes, Lady K, and like I said before, there is no way to be absolutely sure that where I land next will be where I stay. But that's true for anyone. I won't be leaving here right away; as Bubu said to me, the most important part of anything is the ending. He actually used some Japanese analogy about ducks in a pond swimming and swimming and making the pond mucky, and the pond becoming clear when the ducks leave... I kind of get it. But-- am I the ducks? Or the pond? Or the force which draws the ducks away from the pond so that the pond can become clear? Or do I only become clear once the 'ducks' leave my 'pond'? Anyway, to wrap things up gracefully and well, I'll need a little bit of time. The cheapest flights are early March (too soon); the next cheapest are in early June, so those will be the ones I'm looking at. A nicer time to travel anyway, as I'd like to make a few international pit-stops on my journey home. And sure, Jess and Ryan, I'll look in to making my final plane land in Victoria. But I don't like ham.
What can I say that hasn't been said? I miss the sense of fitting in, of belonging and being that comes with knowing your home, and your home knowing you. I miss my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandparents, and the friends that have become family to me over the years; I know who you are now, because you have been the ones whose hearts have been closest to me while I have been all these miles away. There's something to be said for distance in terms of sorting the rice from the chaff. Or the wax from the dross. Or whatever you will.
The final words come from a very recent email from my good and talented friend, Tyson Reilly.
"...the experiences and memories will be carried in your heart, and I know will be expressed through your unbelievable talents. This is what you need to take with you, and leave the stress and longing behind. Go with what your heart says, and you can make no mistake. Life is about moving on, especially when you are not happy. Do not settle, do not sell yourself short because YOU DESERVE THE BEST!! The best of life, the best of love, the best of happiness. I know very well how hard it can be to leave some place like that, I take it as a bungee jump: close my eyes and let myself go. Yeah, the rushing wind and earth growing below me is scary as hell, but I will only kiss the river and walk into a new world, perhaps test waters I haven't tested yet. But I like looking forward to new experiences, and always wonder what is in store for me. Discovery is the excitement of life... in a nutshell, I know you miss home, and I have a feeling home misses you. I know I do."
Namaste
Endrene
My brother was right. It's probably silly to imagine that the grass is any greener in Canada, especially from what I hear about the weather this year-- there isn't any grass to be seen! But it's not necessarily that I feel that life would be any easier or any more interesting in Canada. I'm craving a sense of fitting in. Being special is fine, for a while, but it gets old. And I just haven't gotten used to some things, like being reprimanded by those closest to me for eating too much, and constantly being told that I should diet. I suppose if I came home again, it might not be a forever-thing. I'm still not 100% sure what I want to do for work, or how I'm going to go about it, although living and working here has certainly given me a sense of perspective that I never had before.
In many ways, Carol hit the nail on the head by suggesting that I may have accomplished what I set out to accomplish by coming here. My original motivations were to see whether or not I was cut out for teaching, and to experience the Japanese culture in a more intimate way than my short home stays 13 years ago allowed. I've stayed long enough now to have completed a full cycle; already in the grocery stores I'm recognizing things that greeted me a year ago, when they were new and confusing; the packets of soybeans that are to be tossed out your door for Setsubun (February 3rd) and oni (devil) masks that the children wear to frighten the bad demons away, the racks and racks of chocolate-making kits for girls to use to impress their boyfriends on Valentine's Day. The commercials on TV have gently shifted from the warm cup-o-soup in snowy Hokkaido type, to the slow approach of the bursting cherry-blossom spring type. I feel like I've completed a circle. And could it possibly be any better the second time through? I'm reminded of a camping trip I went on with my friends from the OUC student union during my 3rd year in university. It was the Easter long-weekend, and it was absolutely magical, everything about it. The warmth and comfort we felt from each other's friendships, the brightness of the stars, the music that came so beautifully from some guy's guitar and heart. It was so wonderful, we decided to do it again the next year, after our graduations had commenced. But everything had changed. The relationships had shifted and divided; different people were included, others didn't return. The weather was cold. There was a nasty undercurrent of discontent and fear as we all faced our uncertain futures. I can't try to recreate the newness and amazement I felt a year ago. I could certainly go on trying new things and seeing new places in Japan, but I would do it with a kind of confidence that takes the sparkle off of an adventure. Not that I regret a moment of gaining this confidence and ease of living, but I do recognize it as a marker of sorts.
Thank so much to Shona and Ash for your suggestions and observations. Having lived here yourselves, you know that it isn't always a bed of tsubaki, and that the best way to keep going is to keep going, seeing, trying, experiencing. In fact, I've booked a day trip to Dogo Onsen for this coming Friday, as that was one of the MUST DO things I still hadn't done. My coworker Melissa and I are discussing getting tickets for the next Sumo Basho (tournament) in Osaka in March. I'm not giving up, and I'm not stopping until the moment I leave, that's for certain. I did consider transferring to another school or working for another company for a change of pace, but I do like the sense of home and family I've found in Tokushima; Bubu's family in particular has been a rock-solid foundation for me, and there's been nothing better for my homesickness than going into Bubu's shop for a pep-talk. "Hmmm," he observed last week, "homesick makes you like strange! You forget how to live in Japan!" He does his best to lift me up, suggest what to do and where to go, and of course gives me the usual unwelcome advice about diet and exercise. I have re-applied for my visa, but foolishly only applied for the one-year extension; at the time, I didn't consider that getting the three-year visa would open things up for me should I decide to return in the near future. But for now, the one extra year feels like more than enough.
Oh yes, I do have gypsy-toes, Lady K, and like I said before, there is no way to be absolutely sure that where I land next will be where I stay. But that's true for anyone. I won't be leaving here right away; as Bubu said to me, the most important part of anything is the ending. He actually used some Japanese analogy about ducks in a pond swimming and swimming and making the pond mucky, and the pond becoming clear when the ducks leave... I kind of get it. But-- am I the ducks? Or the pond? Or the force which draws the ducks away from the pond so that the pond can become clear? Or do I only become clear once the 'ducks' leave my 'pond'? Anyway, to wrap things up gracefully and well, I'll need a little bit of time. The cheapest flights are early March (too soon); the next cheapest are in early June, so those will be the ones I'm looking at. A nicer time to travel anyway, as I'd like to make a few international pit-stops on my journey home. And sure, Jess and Ryan, I'll look in to making my final plane land in Victoria. But I don't like ham.
What can I say that hasn't been said? I miss the sense of fitting in, of belonging and being that comes with knowing your home, and your home knowing you. I miss my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandparents, and the friends that have become family to me over the years; I know who you are now, because you have been the ones whose hearts have been closest to me while I have been all these miles away. There's something to be said for distance in terms of sorting the rice from the chaff. Or the wax from the dross. Or whatever you will.
The final words come from a very recent email from my good and talented friend, Tyson Reilly.
"...the experiences and memories will be carried in your heart, and I know will be expressed through your unbelievable talents. This is what you need to take with you, and leave the stress and longing behind. Go with what your heart says, and you can make no mistake. Life is about moving on, especially when you are not happy. Do not settle, do not sell yourself short because YOU DESERVE THE BEST!! The best of life, the best of love, the best of happiness. I know very well how hard it can be to leave some place like that, I take it as a bungee jump: close my eyes and let myself go. Yeah, the rushing wind and earth growing below me is scary as hell, but I will only kiss the river and walk into a new world, perhaps test waters I haven't tested yet. But I like looking forward to new experiences, and always wonder what is in store for me. Discovery is the excitement of life... in a nutshell, I know you miss home, and I have a feeling home misses you. I know I do."
Namaste
Endrene
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Reasons to Go
* I don't feel respected by my company
* I'm dreaming about being home every other night
* I want to be a grown-up, which means advancing myself and challenging myself
*The things I crave are not available to me here; namely a broader sense of community (apart from the small community of teachers and assorted English-speaking pirates of Tokushima)
*I want to have more and better access to natural spaces
*I miss my family and friends
*I'd like to live in a bigger apartment
*I'd like to engage in more in-depth conversations than allowed by current language barriers
*Campfires
*I'd like to start a family at some point; I can't imagine subjecting my future children to the Japanese school system (not that I can say a great amount of nice things in favour of the Canadian school system)
*I'd like to stop feeling enormous on a daily basis, because I'M NOT ENORMOUS
*Because... I feel like it's time to go
Reasons to Stay
*Japanese food, Japanese food, Japanese food, OH! Japanese food!
*Japanese young men (my new gold standard for gorgeousness)
*My students
*There's still SO MUCH I haven't seen or done or tasted or experienced; Sumo, the Sapporo Snow Festival, Dogo Onsen, Hiroshima...
*Japanese influence on my art practices and daily manners
*Onsens
*I haven't learned enough Japanese to be satisfied with my progress... then again, I haven't exactly tossed my entire being into the pursuit of language acquisition
Wow. I'm surprised by the weakness of my Reasons to Stay list. Especially since I know very well that I can get most of the ingredients I need for my favorite Japanese foods at the T&T supermarkets in the greater Vancouver area. And that there are a lot of good-looking Asian dudes in the greater Vancouver area too... And I just reviewed my Reasons to Go list, and I think the last statement says it best, and most succinctly. Why talk your heart into something that it already knows is wrong?
Any recommendations as to where to find the cheapest flights online?
* I don't feel respected by my company
* I'm dreaming about being home every other night
* I want to be a grown-up, which means advancing myself and challenging myself
*The things I crave are not available to me here; namely a broader sense of community (apart from the small community of teachers and assorted English-speaking pirates of Tokushima)
*I want to have more and better access to natural spaces
*I miss my family and friends
*I'd like to live in a bigger apartment
*I'd like to engage in more in-depth conversations than allowed by current language barriers
*Campfires
*I'd like to start a family at some point; I can't imagine subjecting my future children to the Japanese school system (not that I can say a great amount of nice things in favour of the Canadian school system)
*I'd like to stop feeling enormous on a daily basis, because I'M NOT ENORMOUS
*Because... I feel like it's time to go
Reasons to Stay
*Japanese food, Japanese food, Japanese food, OH! Japanese food!
*Japanese young men (my new gold standard for gorgeousness)
*My students
*There's still SO MUCH I haven't seen or done or tasted or experienced; Sumo, the Sapporo Snow Festival, Dogo Onsen, Hiroshima...
*Japanese influence on my art practices and daily manners
*Onsens
*I haven't learned enough Japanese to be satisfied with my progress... then again, I haven't exactly tossed my entire being into the pursuit of language acquisition
Wow. I'm surprised by the weakness of my Reasons to Stay list. Especially since I know very well that I can get most of the ingredients I need for my favorite Japanese foods at the T&T supermarkets in the greater Vancouver area. And that there are a lot of good-looking Asian dudes in the greater Vancouver area too... And I just reviewed my Reasons to Go list, and I think the last statement says it best, and most succinctly. Why talk your heart into something that it already knows is wrong?
Any recommendations as to where to find the cheapest flights online?
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Hope I haven't given the impression that I'm not going to write about my life in Japan anymore. However, a series of unpleasantries has made me less than enthusiastic for my present situation. So while I sort myself out, I hereby submit the following results from www.quizgalaxy.com (thanks for the link, Lady K) for your amusement, and as kind of 'Under Construction, Your Patience is Appreciated' sign.
What will my epitath say? Endrene, Gone Underground for Good
How will I be defined in the dictionary? Endrene (noun): an immortal
Who should paint my portrait? Pablo Picasso (which is weird, because I really don't like him. Besides, he's dead.)
How psychic am I? 73% (???)
Oooookayyy. Think I've had enough fun-time. Time for Relax-time. More Youtube. Maybe the Muppet Show. I'll write again when I've got some semblance of a life again.
What will my epitath say? Endrene, Gone Underground for Good
How will I be defined in the dictionary? Endrene (noun): an immortal
Who should paint my portrait? Pablo Picasso (which is weird, because I really don't like him. Besides, he's dead.)
How psychic am I? 73% (???)
Oooookayyy. Think I've had enough fun-time. Time for Relax-time. More Youtube. Maybe the Muppet Show. I'll write again when I've got some semblance of a life again.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Two things I've found on www.youtube.com that are worth checking out; one is a weirdly cool music video called 'My Hands are Bananas'. Make sure you watch the real 'My Hands are Bananas', the black-and-white one, with young people singing with German accents. And the Milky Pirate. And the other thing is called 'Spit Art' where a dude draws on the pavement by dribbling water from his mouth. I've done stuff like that, so I can appreciate it; it's good to make art out of whatever stands still.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Another one of those weeks has passed-- one of those that I seemed to jam a freaking lifetime of experience into. Apropos, I am exhausted and not a little bewildered to find that I am at the jarring end of my 'vacation' week. It went something like this:
God I can't wait until I have a week off! Bowling? OK, let's do that Friday. Let's go hiking, too--- OK, maybe, how about when I get back from Tokyo? You want to meet me when? Now? OK. Wow, I'm tired, but I have to get packed for Tokyo. The shrine for New Year's eve? OK, sounds great, see you at 11pm... it should only take a couple of hours, right? Because I'm flying in the morning. Wow, this is a crazy traffic jam, everyone is going to the same shrine? This is amazing... look at the time, 5am! Maybe I can get a couple of hours of sleep before the flight. Maybe I can sleep on the flight. No. Well, that's OK. Hi Sumiko, hi Kazuo, Yu-chan, Tomoya-kun, nice to see you too, yes, let's catch the bus to Tsukuba. Yes, a bath would be nice. Ah, that was lovely, goodnight. Good Morning! Yes, let's go to Mashiko to see the famous pottery, wow, look at all of this pottery, what a lot of pottery, (good god, I think I've seen enough pottery)... yes, let's go back to Tsukuba. Goodnight. Good morning, thank you so much for everything, let's catch the trains to the airport, thank you, you've been excessively kind... Oh hi Makoto, thanks for coming to pick me up, hey, do you know how to get to Komatsushima? I have to renew my visa, you can drive me there tomorrow? That's great! Goodnight. Good morning, yeah, let's go-- ooh, Komatsushima is creepy... that was easy, thanks again, see you later. Oh hi Melissa, sure, let's go to an onsen. Oh hi Miho-- what, a nabe party? Where? My place? Ummm... OK. Melissa, want to come to a nabe party? OK, great, we'll go to my place when we're done here. Sure Kayo, I can read your tarot cards. Thanks for the party you guys, that was great. Yeah, I've got to get to bed, I've got a private student in the morning. No, really. I want to sleep now. No, really, really. Oh crap, I missed my alarm. Harunobu, I'm going to be about 10 minutes late, OK? Thanks so much, see you soon! Hello, good morning, Harunobu...
That brings us to today. My lesson ended, I was paid, I stopped in for a quick chat with Bubu at his shop, then back to my apartment to take my vitamins and to do a swift clean, and then here, to the Internet cafe. I've plugged myself into this computer as though it's an I.V. ... a source of quietude and solitary entertainment, blessed peaceful reflection. I've found a great website called www.pandora.com (I'm sure anyone who spends more than an hour a week on the Internet already knows about it)... anyway, I can type in the name of a band or a song I like, and then the website automatically searches, sorts and sends me a live stream of similar music... it's like being able to create your own radio station. Next I'm going to check out www.youtube.com and see if I can't find a movie I'd like to watch. It's cheaper (and easier, and more private) than going to the movie theatre. I've always been opposed to this kind of computer-focused solitary entertainment, because I think it's damaging to society as a whole; we don't know how to get out and interact in real time anymore. And I tend to blame computers and cell phones and the people who use them to the exclusion of real life. And then there are days like today. I just want to be quietly and privately amused, and I cannot think of anything better than sitting in this little cubicle, drinking my free tea and listening to... a band called 'Seven Nations'. Maybe that's not necessarily useful, but hell, I ought to get off of my high horse and stretch my legs for a bit.
Mom's birthday today. Happy, happy birthday, mom! Let's hope that it doesn't take me six months to get your birthday gift to you this year.
Could I say more? Fill you in on the amazing details of my vacation, like seeing the Japanese nun with the tiny black-clad feet in the bathroom at Haneda airport? And the girls in winter kimono, wearing glittering makeup and sharing a shivering Chihuahua at the jam-packed, incense-scented 3am shrine in Naruto , early-early on January first? Oooh, I could. But forgive me. I'm tired, and I want to play alone.
Namaste
Endrene
God I can't wait until I have a week off! Bowling? OK, let's do that Friday. Let's go hiking, too--- OK, maybe, how about when I get back from Tokyo? You want to meet me when? Now? OK. Wow, I'm tired, but I have to get packed for Tokyo. The shrine for New Year's eve? OK, sounds great, see you at 11pm... it should only take a couple of hours, right? Because I'm flying in the morning. Wow, this is a crazy traffic jam, everyone is going to the same shrine? This is amazing... look at the time, 5am! Maybe I can get a couple of hours of sleep before the flight. Maybe I can sleep on the flight. No. Well, that's OK. Hi Sumiko, hi Kazuo, Yu-chan, Tomoya-kun, nice to see you too, yes, let's catch the bus to Tsukuba. Yes, a bath would be nice. Ah, that was lovely, goodnight. Good Morning! Yes, let's go to Mashiko to see the famous pottery, wow, look at all of this pottery, what a lot of pottery, (good god, I think I've seen enough pottery)... yes, let's go back to Tsukuba. Goodnight. Good morning, thank you so much for everything, let's catch the trains to the airport, thank you, you've been excessively kind... Oh hi Makoto, thanks for coming to pick me up, hey, do you know how to get to Komatsushima? I have to renew my visa, you can drive me there tomorrow? That's great! Goodnight. Good morning, yeah, let's go-- ooh, Komatsushima is creepy... that was easy, thanks again, see you later. Oh hi Melissa, sure, let's go to an onsen. Oh hi Miho-- what, a nabe party? Where? My place? Ummm... OK. Melissa, want to come to a nabe party? OK, great, we'll go to my place when we're done here. Sure Kayo, I can read your tarot cards. Thanks for the party you guys, that was great. Yeah, I've got to get to bed, I've got a private student in the morning. No, really. I want to sleep now. No, really, really. Oh crap, I missed my alarm. Harunobu, I'm going to be about 10 minutes late, OK? Thanks so much, see you soon! Hello, good morning, Harunobu...
That brings us to today. My lesson ended, I was paid, I stopped in for a quick chat with Bubu at his shop, then back to my apartment to take my vitamins and to do a swift clean, and then here, to the Internet cafe. I've plugged myself into this computer as though it's an I.V. ... a source of quietude and solitary entertainment, blessed peaceful reflection. I've found a great website called www.pandora.com (I'm sure anyone who spends more than an hour a week on the Internet already knows about it)... anyway, I can type in the name of a band or a song I like, and then the website automatically searches, sorts and sends me a live stream of similar music... it's like being able to create your own radio station. Next I'm going to check out www.youtube.com and see if I can't find a movie I'd like to watch. It's cheaper (and easier, and more private) than going to the movie theatre. I've always been opposed to this kind of computer-focused solitary entertainment, because I think it's damaging to society as a whole; we don't know how to get out and interact in real time anymore. And I tend to blame computers and cell phones and the people who use them to the exclusion of real life. And then there are days like today. I just want to be quietly and privately amused, and I cannot think of anything better than sitting in this little cubicle, drinking my free tea and listening to... a band called 'Seven Nations'. Maybe that's not necessarily useful, but hell, I ought to get off of my high horse and stretch my legs for a bit.
Mom's birthday today. Happy, happy birthday, mom! Let's hope that it doesn't take me six months to get your birthday gift to you this year.
Could I say more? Fill you in on the amazing details of my vacation, like seeing the Japanese nun with the tiny black-clad feet in the bathroom at Haneda airport? And the girls in winter kimono, wearing glittering makeup and sharing a shivering Chihuahua at the jam-packed, incense-scented 3am shrine in Naruto , early-early on January first? Oooh, I could. But forgive me. I'm tired, and I want to play alone.
Namaste
Endrene
Saturday, December 30, 2006
I remember writing about autumn-blooming flowers. Now I'm seeing the late-late-autumn flowers, the winter flowers. The tsubaki and the other brilliant fuchsia and white flowers that I cannot name. And the weather is icy-cool, and windy, and the palm trees blow and rattle. And it snowed for the first time this winter yesterday; random, splattery gobbets of snow that didn't stick and didn't stay... I was so dazed with fatigue that I hardly noticed them. I regret that now. I should have at least tried to catch one on my tongue.
We walked through the snow as we were leaving the bowling alley. Alex, Melissa, Jenna and I had two games in the bustling Dia Lanes that is across the street from my apartment. I finally managed to break 90; my final score was 110... hooray for me! My bedroom (actually, my only room) faces the plain white wall of the bowling alley, and at night it sounds like thunder; once I got used to the sound, it became oddly comforting. On the other side of the apartment building, there are train tracks. I am blanketed by sound from all sides, all hours of the day. I woke up at 5am a couple of weeks ago, and in the stillness, I could hear my left neighbor singing (which he always does) and my right neighbor rustling paper. Yes, rustling paper. On the other side of the wall by my head.
My apartment has seemed more and more like a sad little squirrel's nest as time has gone by. I used to think that I wanted to live in a van and drive across the continent of North America. Maybe I still do. But the live in a van part has lost some of its appeal. Maybe the right van would be bigger than my apartment, though. And when I stepped out of the van, the scenery would be different every time. Not just the quick and narrow street that separates me from the white wall of the bowling alley. And I bet you that a van would have more than one range in the kitchenette.
I said I was dazed and fatigued yesterday; with good reason. I mistakenly believed that with most of my co-workers out of the country for vacation, I would revel in the lull and do things like vacuum and organize and write letters and shop for delayed Christmas gifts. I would hermit myself away and read the Dhammapada again. I would draw and paint. I would go to bed early and rise early. I would live out all of my best intentions, get a good start on my New Year's resolutions.
Ha!
Reality-check. I seem to be an inherently social animal. I love my time alone, but I am easily swayed and distracted by a phone-call or text message promising a good time. I worked the last two shifts after Christmas and before this holiday like a robot; I used what little energy I had to try and appear alert and eager for my students. After my shift on the 27th ended, Jenna, Melissa and I caught a brief second wind, borne of the promise of a full week off. No Nova. No explaining what "what's new" means to lower-level students every forty minutes. No obsessive upper-level students wanting detailed explanations of nonsensical English idioms. "'It's a piece of cake'? But how can that mean 'it's easy'? What about cake is easy? And 'The cat has my tongue?' Why? What if I have the cat's tongue? Is it the same?" (If you have a 'cat's tongue' in Japan, it means that you can't handle really hot food. I know better than to ask for an explanation.)
I digress. We went for a drink in a little cafe-bar that is dark and sparse but comfortable, and mural led in a decidedly Rap-1992 style. We went home. I went to bed early. A good beginning, or so I thought. The next day broke clear and bright, and my good intentions went out the window with a text-message from Satoshi; or did I send the first one? Anyway, we had a fabulous afternoon of coffee and yammering about everything in all directions and window shopping. I sank a bundle on a beautiful watch; an early birthday-gift to myself. It's one of those ones that never needs to be wound as long as you are wearing it; perpetual motion. It's gold with a turquoise face. I love it. Satoshi tried on an alligator-strapped watch with an enormous face that had a price tag equal to that of a new car; my stomach spun at the sight of it. I can't imagine owning something that entails such a high degree of responsibility. But mi-e needs are big in Japan. Mi-e (as I understand it) is that it's the look of a thing (or a person) that is most important. So young women will often go hungry for the sake of a designer handbag, identical to every other designer handbag of every other woman that works in her office.
Further digression. I bought my brother a fuzzy frog-suit for Christmas (you'll love it, dude) and Satoshi and I rounded off our day in the Puri-Kura (print club) booths, getting ridiculous stickers made with me peeking out of a toilet and stars exploding out of our heads. Standard fare. I made my way home, fully expecting to vacuum and hermit and read and paint, when I got a message from my old friend Shin, aka Shrine Boy, whom I had not seen for 8 months. Did I have time? Could I meet him for his last party of 2006? I met him at 'our' shrine and we biked many chilly blocks to his apartment; which was astoundingly smaller than mine. When I saw it, I wasn't surprised that the 'party' was only going to be him and me. He's a sweetheart, a little brother of a guy, only 20 years old and impossibly good-natured and full of idealism. We drank beer and ate pizza and watched Japanese comedy shows. I tried to explain the lyrics of a James Blunt song to him; he also loves the Backstreet Boys and Daniel Powter. He was drunk after one can of beer. I decided to go as he was rubbing his eyes and yawning like a three-year old; he biked me to a point where I recognized my surroundings. As I thanked him for the pizza and took my leave, my phone rang. Another friend. Where was I? Could I come out for a drink? Like, now?
Long story short, I went to sleep at about 6:30 am. I woke up at 8am, long enough to text message an apology and a cancellation to my private student. Again at 9 am to take my mom's phone call. Again at noon to get up, and go bowling. After bowling, after glancing nonchalantly at the falling snow, I announced that I was going home for a nap.
I woke up 17 hours later. That brings us to today. Today I made a list, and stuck to it, sort of. Maybe my hermity resolutions are a little too strict, after all. I better ought to stick with my friend's father's favorite saying: "Everything in moderation, including moderation".
Happy New Year.
We walked through the snow as we were leaving the bowling alley. Alex, Melissa, Jenna and I had two games in the bustling Dia Lanes that is across the street from my apartment. I finally managed to break 90; my final score was 110... hooray for me! My bedroom (actually, my only room) faces the plain white wall of the bowling alley, and at night it sounds like thunder; once I got used to the sound, it became oddly comforting. On the other side of the apartment building, there are train tracks. I am blanketed by sound from all sides, all hours of the day. I woke up at 5am a couple of weeks ago, and in the stillness, I could hear my left neighbor singing (which he always does) and my right neighbor rustling paper. Yes, rustling paper. On the other side of the wall by my head.
My apartment has seemed more and more like a sad little squirrel's nest as time has gone by. I used to think that I wanted to live in a van and drive across the continent of North America. Maybe I still do. But the live in a van part has lost some of its appeal. Maybe the right van would be bigger than my apartment, though. And when I stepped out of the van, the scenery would be different every time. Not just the quick and narrow street that separates me from the white wall of the bowling alley. And I bet you that a van would have more than one range in the kitchenette.
I said I was dazed and fatigued yesterday; with good reason. I mistakenly believed that with most of my co-workers out of the country for vacation, I would revel in the lull and do things like vacuum and organize and write letters and shop for delayed Christmas gifts. I would hermit myself away and read the Dhammapada again. I would draw and paint. I would go to bed early and rise early. I would live out all of my best intentions, get a good start on my New Year's resolutions.
Ha!
Reality-check. I seem to be an inherently social animal. I love my time alone, but I am easily swayed and distracted by a phone-call or text message promising a good time. I worked the last two shifts after Christmas and before this holiday like a robot; I used what little energy I had to try and appear alert and eager for my students. After my shift on the 27th ended, Jenna, Melissa and I caught a brief second wind, borne of the promise of a full week off. No Nova. No explaining what "what's new" means to lower-level students every forty minutes. No obsessive upper-level students wanting detailed explanations of nonsensical English idioms. "'It's a piece of cake'? But how can that mean 'it's easy'? What about cake is easy? And 'The cat has my tongue?' Why? What if I have the cat's tongue? Is it the same?" (If you have a 'cat's tongue' in Japan, it means that you can't handle really hot food. I know better than to ask for an explanation.)
I digress. We went for a drink in a little cafe-bar that is dark and sparse but comfortable, and mural led in a decidedly Rap-1992 style. We went home. I went to bed early. A good beginning, or so I thought. The next day broke clear and bright, and my good intentions went out the window with a text-message from Satoshi; or did I send the first one? Anyway, we had a fabulous afternoon of coffee and yammering about everything in all directions and window shopping. I sank a bundle on a beautiful watch; an early birthday-gift to myself. It's one of those ones that never needs to be wound as long as you are wearing it; perpetual motion. It's gold with a turquoise face. I love it. Satoshi tried on an alligator-strapped watch with an enormous face that had a price tag equal to that of a new car; my stomach spun at the sight of it. I can't imagine owning something that entails such a high degree of responsibility. But mi-e needs are big in Japan. Mi-e (as I understand it) is that it's the look of a thing (or a person) that is most important. So young women will often go hungry for the sake of a designer handbag, identical to every other designer handbag of every other woman that works in her office.
Further digression. I bought my brother a fuzzy frog-suit for Christmas (you'll love it, dude) and Satoshi and I rounded off our day in the Puri-Kura (print club) booths, getting ridiculous stickers made with me peeking out of a toilet and stars exploding out of our heads. Standard fare. I made my way home, fully expecting to vacuum and hermit and read and paint, when I got a message from my old friend Shin, aka Shrine Boy, whom I had not seen for 8 months. Did I have time? Could I meet him for his last party of 2006? I met him at 'our' shrine and we biked many chilly blocks to his apartment; which was astoundingly smaller than mine. When I saw it, I wasn't surprised that the 'party' was only going to be him and me. He's a sweetheart, a little brother of a guy, only 20 years old and impossibly good-natured and full of idealism. We drank beer and ate pizza and watched Japanese comedy shows. I tried to explain the lyrics of a James Blunt song to him; he also loves the Backstreet Boys and Daniel Powter. He was drunk after one can of beer. I decided to go as he was rubbing his eyes and yawning like a three-year old; he biked me to a point where I recognized my surroundings. As I thanked him for the pizza and took my leave, my phone rang. Another friend. Where was I? Could I come out for a drink? Like, now?
Long story short, I went to sleep at about 6:30 am. I woke up at 8am, long enough to text message an apology and a cancellation to my private student. Again at 9 am to take my mom's phone call. Again at noon to get up, and go bowling. After bowling, after glancing nonchalantly at the falling snow, I announced that I was going home for a nap.
I woke up 17 hours later. That brings us to today. Today I made a list, and stuck to it, sort of. Maybe my hermity resolutions are a little too strict, after all. I better ought to stick with my friend's father's favorite saying: "Everything in moderation, including moderation".
Happy New Year.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Christmas eve saw me scrambling to pack up my bags and bike the two-ish blocks to the Boobie Palace. Pancake mix? Check. Gifts? Check. Pajamas? Check. Weighted down, I was lucky that I only fell over once, and managed not to break the bottles of wine and champagne. When I arrived, I was happy to find the place decorated with an array of sparkly garland and a mini tree (about 12 inches high, but a tree is a tree). Joanna and Kat ducked out to get some snacks and some more wine, and Melissa and I chatted and I checked my email. Christmas eve commenced with their return; wine and chocolate consumption, chit-chat and The Scissor Sisters (I regretted not bringing over my two Christmas cd's). We waited until midnight, and then celebrated with a group hug and the opening of some of our gifts. Melissa delighted the three of us by giving each of us a gorgeous pot of flowers; red for Kat, pink for Joanna and white for me. As I was sleeping on the couch, I had the final word on bed-time; I told everyone to get to sleep, otherwise Santa wouldn't come.
I played Santa, and after everyone awoke and emerged, the stocking were opened; a bottle of real maple syrup was included for each girl. I cooked pancakes and eggs (and bacon for the two of us non-vegetarians) and we drank pink champagne mimosas and toasted the bright sunny Christmas morning before scooting off to work.
Work was weird; the teachers were unhappy and incredulous that the students could sign up and arrive to lessons as though this was just any other day. I had expected it though, and so brought a little photo album to work with me, and I began every lesson with it: look, this is my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandparents, my aunts, uncles, cousins. This is Aldergrove in the winter. This is the Santa Claus doll that my brother and I have had our picture taken with for twenty-six years running. This is our Christmas tree. My family has Scottish heritage, so in this picture, my brother and dad are wearing kilts. Sharing my Christmas traditions with the students made the lessons bearable; they appreciated where I was coming from, and I felt like I had given them a different perspective on the holiday.
After work I joined forces with Travis and Neil; we hit the liquor store where I bought the ingredients for poor-man's champagne (apricot brandy and ginger ale; my mom's family Christmas cocktail). The man working at the checkout was dressed in a head-to-toe Ruldoph costume. Ridiculous, but cute. Next, to my tiny apartment to grab the half-cooked ingredients for Christmas dinner. We made our careful way back to Neil's bigger place and I began to cook; Neil helped me locate utensils as Travis mixed my drink and got the carols playing. More folks arrived; soon the apartment was filled with animation. Joanna and Kat madly prepared vegetables (Jeff peeled the carrots), drinks were poured, the breeze was shot in the living room on Neil's enormous heated fuzzy rug. Yes... Heated. FUZZY. Rug. I could live on that thing... Melissa and I made a run to the Lawson's convienience store for some milk. We all ate heartily, including my somewhat runny squash pie with whipped-cream-from-a-can, applied by the skillful hand of Chris, our newest staff member from Los Vegas. We played spoons, and an aptly-named game called 'Once Around, You're Drunk'. We drank too much, and we spilled booze on Neils rug. We laughed. We laughed a LOT. Anyway, it wasn't the Christmas I expected. Maybe it wasn't exactly the Christmas I wanted. But it was great.
I played Santa, and after everyone awoke and emerged, the stocking were opened; a bottle of real maple syrup was included for each girl. I cooked pancakes and eggs (and bacon for the two of us non-vegetarians) and we drank pink champagne mimosas and toasted the bright sunny Christmas morning before scooting off to work.
Work was weird; the teachers were unhappy and incredulous that the students could sign up and arrive to lessons as though this was just any other day. I had expected it though, and so brought a little photo album to work with me, and I began every lesson with it: look, this is my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandparents, my aunts, uncles, cousins. This is Aldergrove in the winter. This is the Santa Claus doll that my brother and I have had our picture taken with for twenty-six years running. This is our Christmas tree. My family has Scottish heritage, so in this picture, my brother and dad are wearing kilts. Sharing my Christmas traditions with the students made the lessons bearable; they appreciated where I was coming from, and I felt like I had given them a different perspective on the holiday.
After work I joined forces with Travis and Neil; we hit the liquor store where I bought the ingredients for poor-man's champagne (apricot brandy and ginger ale; my mom's family Christmas cocktail). The man working at the checkout was dressed in a head-to-toe Ruldoph costume. Ridiculous, but cute. Next, to my tiny apartment to grab the half-cooked ingredients for Christmas dinner. We made our careful way back to Neil's bigger place and I began to cook; Neil helped me locate utensils as Travis mixed my drink and got the carols playing. More folks arrived; soon the apartment was filled with animation. Joanna and Kat madly prepared vegetables (Jeff peeled the carrots), drinks were poured, the breeze was shot in the living room on Neil's enormous heated fuzzy rug. Yes... Heated. FUZZY. Rug. I could live on that thing... Melissa and I made a run to the Lawson's convienience store for some milk. We all ate heartily, including my somewhat runny squash pie with whipped-cream-from-a-can, applied by the skillful hand of Chris, our newest staff member from Los Vegas. We played spoons, and an aptly-named game called 'Once Around, You're Drunk'. We drank too much, and we spilled booze on Neils rug. We laughed. We laughed a LOT. Anyway, it wasn't the Christmas I expected. Maybe it wasn't exactly the Christmas I wanted. But it was great.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Wow, I've over-stayed my yen at the internet cafe and I think I've got to make this quick... mucking about doing research and email and chatting and what-not. It's easy to lose track of time at this cafe; I've started coming to one closer to my house called 'Moby'-- it's awesome because there's a non-smoking section and free ice-cream, in addition to all the other usual delights. Coffee, pop, melon-flavoured slush, all you can drink! Comic books! Billards! All for the low-low price of 100 yen every 15 minutes!
I emailed my Christmas Greetings this year, seeing as I haven't had the time or the patience with the staff at the post office to get much off, other than cards to my immediate family. Sorry to those of you who have enjoyed previous editions of my Christmas 'Muse Letter' (I'm such an anachronistic geek)... I'll try and get a New Year's version off during my holiday, which begins on the 27th. New Years cards are the 'thing' in Japan, anyway. As for Christmas-- well, I can't recall if I said, but I'll be helping to cook dinner for a small group of us Nova-ites, and I'm pretty excited about the menu. I've already been shopping and making lists-- I even asked my friend Neil to look up 'hot toddies', though they don't sound as appetizing when you know the ingredients. Might opt for apple cider instead.
Wow! Christmas is almost here! The space under my festively decorated potted palm is bursting with packages from home (thank you, thank you), but I'm undeniably most curious about the contents of the one my brother sent, on which he scrawled 'Granny Panties Suck' in magic marker. My brother sent me underwear? Thoughtful, or creepy? Well, Sandy isn't really the creepy type... he's just... special. Right, bro?
Anyway, I better go pay my bill... shame I didn't have time for one more melon slush-vanilla ice cream screamer before I left... I suppose my butt will thank me. There's one advantage of the holidays in Japan-- no tempting evil Christmas cookies everywhere! (Though I did consume a quarter of the box of shortbread my grandmother sent me last night- tasted like home!) To all of you out there; happy holidays, and best wishes for you and your families and friends. Make the most of the love you've got around you, because there isn't anything better than love...
Namaste
Endrene
I emailed my Christmas Greetings this year, seeing as I haven't had the time or the patience with the staff at the post office to get much off, other than cards to my immediate family. Sorry to those of you who have enjoyed previous editions of my Christmas 'Muse Letter' (I'm such an anachronistic geek)... I'll try and get a New Year's version off during my holiday, which begins on the 27th. New Years cards are the 'thing' in Japan, anyway. As for Christmas-- well, I can't recall if I said, but I'll be helping to cook dinner for a small group of us Nova-ites, and I'm pretty excited about the menu. I've already been shopping and making lists-- I even asked my friend Neil to look up 'hot toddies', though they don't sound as appetizing when you know the ingredients. Might opt for apple cider instead.
Wow! Christmas is almost here! The space under my festively decorated potted palm is bursting with packages from home (thank you, thank you), but I'm undeniably most curious about the contents of the one my brother sent, on which he scrawled 'Granny Panties Suck' in magic marker. My brother sent me underwear? Thoughtful, or creepy? Well, Sandy isn't really the creepy type... he's just... special. Right, bro?
Anyway, I better go pay my bill... shame I didn't have time for one more melon slush-vanilla ice cream screamer before I left... I suppose my butt will thank me. There's one advantage of the holidays in Japan-- no tempting evil Christmas cookies everywhere! (Though I did consume a quarter of the box of shortbread my grandmother sent me last night- tasted like home!) To all of you out there; happy holidays, and best wishes for you and your families and friends. Make the most of the love you've got around you, because there isn't anything better than love...
Namaste
Endrene
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Breathe a sigh of relief, everyone. The ordeal is over, I can sleep again; Nova has decided to renew my contract for another year. Now remains just the pithy business of signing the new contract and getting my new visa. I text-messaged most of my friends and co-workers within minutes of getting the news; as per usual, some the Japanese comments were sweetly funny:
Miho: I can't express how happy I am now! c u day after tomorrow!
Bubu: Sounds good! NOVA took the best way! Because they noticed your ability and what is the most important thing? You got wins!
Yasu: Congratulation!! I am so happy! please enjoy together forever in Japan!
I also recieved invitations to two congratulatory dinners; Satoshi is going to make me something green and healthy on Thursday night (as per my request-- the whole not-using-my-knees-thing has not been kind to the size of my bottom) and then I'm going to blow it the next night at Jenna's cheeeeesy macaroni and cheese party. I've never eaten Scottish macoroni and cheese before. I wonder if it's different somehow? More Mac-tastic, maybe?
I've recently taken a liking to how Bubu puts his hand over his heart whenever he's talking about his mind- the word kokoro means heart, soul, and mind. I'm wondering if Western people would find a greater degree of peace in their day-to-day lives if they could make a greater connection between the three. Anyway, I've been noticing a lot more of the 'small' things lately, since I was under the impression that I was going to be sent home soon. Like how Miho constantly asserts that she's a 'safety driver,' even though she's been corrected several times ("it's safe driver, Miho,") and even though she's not-- she drives that little pink bread-box of a car like a screaming Mimi. Also, things like how the decorative singular vegetables that float in the miso soup are cut to reflect the seasons; in the spring, the paper-thin daikon was shaped like cherry blossoms, now the slices of carrot are shaped like autumn leaves. I'm also trying to pay more attention to how food is prepared; I don't think I could go back to a strictly Western-style diet. I want to know how to make okonomiyaki, tako-yaki, miso, onigiri... and especially how to make the salad dressings that blow my mind. Bubu and Haruko have taught me how to make Niku Jaga-- and they teased me throughout the entire process. Apparently when I attempted to text-message my request for the recipe to Bubu in hiragana, I mispelled and asked for the recipe for Mick Jagger. Mmmm... Rolling Stone Stew. Anyway, it was fun; I'll get around to posting the recipe here one of these days.
As for Christmas... well, only a few days to go, hey? I've been trying to insert Christmassy activities and behavior into my day-to-day life as much as possible, so that I won't feel like I've missed it entirely. The nice thing (in my opinion, anyway) is that all the stores and malls play Christmas music, and have put up lights and little displays. I even heard Kenny and Dolly singing "I'll be Home with Bells On" in the Kiyoei supermarket and Anne Murray crooning over the sushi display at Fuji Grand. It's not exactly the same, but then, I couldn't expect it to be. The plan is to spend Christmas eve at the Boobie Palace with the girls so that when I wake up on Christmas morning, we can open gifts together and enjoy Christmas breakfast. Christmas day I work, but I'm off at two-ish, so I'll head over to another friend's house and start cooking dinner for a few of us. Then hopefully we can gather and drink hot toddies and cut out paper snowflakes and fa-la-la-la-la, and all of that. I'll certainly miss my family, but I'll be with good people that I love, and that love me. What more could I ask for?
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year...
endrene
Miho: I can't express how happy I am now! c u day after tomorrow!
Bubu: Sounds good! NOVA took the best way! Because they noticed your ability and what is the most important thing? You got wins!
Yasu: Congratulation!! I am so happy! please enjoy together forever in Japan!
I also recieved invitations to two congratulatory dinners; Satoshi is going to make me something green and healthy on Thursday night (as per my request-- the whole not-using-my-knees-thing has not been kind to the size of my bottom) and then I'm going to blow it the next night at Jenna's cheeeeesy macaroni and cheese party. I've never eaten Scottish macoroni and cheese before. I wonder if it's different somehow? More Mac-tastic, maybe?
I've recently taken a liking to how Bubu puts his hand over his heart whenever he's talking about his mind- the word kokoro means heart, soul, and mind. I'm wondering if Western people would find a greater degree of peace in their day-to-day lives if they could make a greater connection between the three. Anyway, I've been noticing a lot more of the 'small' things lately, since I was under the impression that I was going to be sent home soon. Like how Miho constantly asserts that she's a 'safety driver,' even though she's been corrected several times ("it's safe driver, Miho,") and even though she's not-- she drives that little pink bread-box of a car like a screaming Mimi. Also, things like how the decorative singular vegetables that float in the miso soup are cut to reflect the seasons; in the spring, the paper-thin daikon was shaped like cherry blossoms, now the slices of carrot are shaped like autumn leaves. I'm also trying to pay more attention to how food is prepared; I don't think I could go back to a strictly Western-style diet. I want to know how to make okonomiyaki, tako-yaki, miso, onigiri... and especially how to make the salad dressings that blow my mind. Bubu and Haruko have taught me how to make Niku Jaga-- and they teased me throughout the entire process. Apparently when I attempted to text-message my request for the recipe to Bubu in hiragana, I mispelled and asked for the recipe for Mick Jagger. Mmmm... Rolling Stone Stew. Anyway, it was fun; I'll get around to posting the recipe here one of these days.
As for Christmas... well, only a few days to go, hey? I've been trying to insert Christmassy activities and behavior into my day-to-day life as much as possible, so that I won't feel like I've missed it entirely. The nice thing (in my opinion, anyway) is that all the stores and malls play Christmas music, and have put up lights and little displays. I even heard Kenny and Dolly singing "I'll be Home with Bells On" in the Kiyoei supermarket and Anne Murray crooning over the sushi display at Fuji Grand. It's not exactly the same, but then, I couldn't expect it to be. The plan is to spend Christmas eve at the Boobie Palace with the girls so that when I wake up on Christmas morning, we can open gifts together and enjoy Christmas breakfast. Christmas day I work, but I'm off at two-ish, so I'll head over to another friend's house and start cooking dinner for a few of us. Then hopefully we can gather and drink hot toddies and cut out paper snowflakes and fa-la-la-la-la, and all of that. I'll certainly miss my family, but I'll be with good people that I love, and that love me. What more could I ask for?
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year...
endrene
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Still waiting... only two days to go until Friday. Decision day. As it's my day off, I'll be calling in to talk with my Japanese manager, so see what the verdict is. Last night as I was putting on my coat for the long bike ride home, she shook her head, and said, "if you go, I quit too!" Support feels good.
To answer P.Phobic's question, yes, I have looked into teaching for other companies, and have actually already gotten several suggestions (and even an offer) from teachers at other Eikawa schools. However, I really want to come home next summer for... well, either for the summer or forever, I haven't made up my mind yet. And I can't ethically feel OK signing up with another company, only to dump them mid-contract. And there isn't any company that would be willing to give me more than 10 vacation days a year, so... I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, as they say. But I'm greased up, baby! And if you squeeze me too tight, I just might shoot sideways. Watch out!
To answer P.Phobic's question, yes, I have looked into teaching for other companies, and have actually already gotten several suggestions (and even an offer) from teachers at other Eikawa schools. However, I really want to come home next summer for... well, either for the summer or forever, I haven't made up my mind yet. And I can't ethically feel OK signing up with another company, only to dump them mid-contract. And there isn't any company that would be willing to give me more than 10 vacation days a year, so... I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, as they say. But I'm greased up, baby! And if you squeeze me too tight, I just might shoot sideways. Watch out!
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Living under the black wing of Nova is getting to be some pretty sticky business. I got a thorough scolding from the current woman-in-charge of Nova instructors and their comings-and-goings. I thought I had my visa in the bag, but apparently, my calling in sick 5 times this year (and being late twice when I was new and confused) qualifies me as an "unreliable" instructor.
"You know," she said (in a rather sickeningly patronizing voice, I might add) "it just doesn't look good. If you could promise me that you would make an effort to be on time in the future, if we were to renew your contract..." Here I was spurting and choking on words; half of me wanting to say whatever was necessary to make it right, and the larger part of me burning with a white-hot fury that I am unaccustomed to. Hmmm. Kiss her ass, or tell her where to go, and what to do when she got there? She added that everything else looked so good, but there was just the problem of my attendance...
Not wanting to burn any bridges, I went the ass-kissing route. I also had to write a letter, promising that I would be a good and timely little girl in the future. What chafes me is that I have never called in sick when I haven't been sick. Every time I might have liked to extend my vacation, or recover from a hangover, I doggedly went to work and did my job. I'm starting to get really annoyed with working for a company that sees punishment as a more effective means of control than praise. That, and I recently discovered that the Japanese staff members get bonuses twice a year, while foreign personnel get none... what's going on here? At any rate, my kissy-kissy letter might help plead my case for visa renewal. Apparently I'll know for sure on the 15th... my co-workers think it's just scare tactics. I think it's make-me-feel-like-poo tactics.
Dammit, I'm a good teacher. I have never received any complaints from the students. I love and respect the people I teach, and I seem to get the same in response, especially from the kids. But I'm really tired of feeling like a bad guy when everything else says I'm doing a good job. The universe might be pointing me in directions I was previously not ready to go in.
"You know," she said (in a rather sickeningly patronizing voice, I might add) "it just doesn't look good. If you could promise me that you would make an effort to be on time in the future, if we were to renew your contract..." Here I was spurting and choking on words; half of me wanting to say whatever was necessary to make it right, and the larger part of me burning with a white-hot fury that I am unaccustomed to. Hmmm. Kiss her ass, or tell her where to go, and what to do when she got there? She added that everything else looked so good, but there was just the problem of my attendance...
Not wanting to burn any bridges, I went the ass-kissing route. I also had to write a letter, promising that I would be a good and timely little girl in the future. What chafes me is that I have never called in sick when I haven't been sick. Every time I might have liked to extend my vacation, or recover from a hangover, I doggedly went to work and did my job. I'm starting to get really annoyed with working for a company that sees punishment as a more effective means of control than praise. That, and I recently discovered that the Japanese staff members get bonuses twice a year, while foreign personnel get none... what's going on here? At any rate, my kissy-kissy letter might help plead my case for visa renewal. Apparently I'll know for sure on the 15th... my co-workers think it's just scare tactics. I think it's make-me-feel-like-poo tactics.
Dammit, I'm a good teacher. I have never received any complaints from the students. I love and respect the people I teach, and I seem to get the same in response, especially from the kids. But I'm really tired of feeling like a bad guy when everything else says I'm doing a good job. The universe might be pointing me in directions I was previously not ready to go in.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
My black mood shattered this morning.
Yesterday, when I woke up, I had a headache that throbbed regardless of Advil or bed rest or cups of tea. I shut the curtains. First I cancelled my private lesson, then when the headache still hadn't dissipated by 3pm, I cancelled my evening shift at Nova. (For that I will pay the penalty of one day's pay; there are no sick days at Nova allowed, especially when called in after the 11am deadline. And I mean pay-- they won't just cut off a day's salary. I owe it to them.) I lay on my back on the heated floor pad, hiding under the kotatsu table like a child, covering my eyes and my ears. My hurt knee bothered me more by its existence than by any actual pain. Ever since I came to Tokushima, to Shikoku island, I have been harbouring a half-secret dream to attempt the 88 Temple Pilgrimage around the island. It's one of the main reasons I requested Shikoku as my first choice for placement when I became a Nova hack. And now... Well, the Doc said to use my knee as little as possible. Walking 1000 miles for three months doesn't exactly fit in with his recommendations. (See this web page for more info: http://travel-write.com/travel_articles/asia/shikoku_88_temple_pilgrimage/index.htm )
I phoned mom this morning after a long loll in bed with a cup of tea and a mildly soppy Christmas romance novel she'd sent in her latest care package. (I only read these things once a year, I swear!) I wanted a sounding board. Was I doing all right here? She assured me that I was all right, that everyone is very proud of me, etc, etc, everything I needed to hear and more. And, apparently, all Capricorns (her, me, my Auntie Joy and her daughter Cathy, my Auntie Flo) are right out of whack. Our planets are doing the funky chicken or something and all of us feel wonky or dissatisfied, and like our work is getting us nowhere. What do you say fellow goat-girls? True or not true? Are you feeling like greasy-grimy-gopher-guts too? Anyway, it felt good to not feel alone in my fog.
Full appreciation of my life hit me like a wall of roses. I have finally got enough rest. The memories of my Kyoto vacation are starting to percolate now that I've recovered from the assault of the hectic adventure. I finally have an idea about what to do for my family for Christmas (albeit, the gifts will be late). I can choose to be happy. I am relatively healthy. My knee hurts, but I talked with Dad-- he had had a similar knee problem a few years ago, up to the point where doctors were going to operate. He started taking sharks cartilage capsules, and hasn't had a problem since; lucky me! The only thing I recognize in the drug store are the bottles with the pictures of sharks on them! And though the thrilling newness of being in this country may have passed away, it doesn't mean that my learning is complete. It doesn't mean that I'm finished discovering.
Here's one of my recent adventures to prove it:
When we got to Nara, I was surprised to see the deer immediately, and was also surprised by their size. I thought they'd be smaller, more delicate. But they were hefty like large goats, and just as persistent, immediately hounding anybody who stepped towards a deer-snack vendor. Thankfully, most of the males had had their antlers lopped off. I say thankfully because you have to remember that it is autumn in Nara-- these animals are in the full swing of rutting season. The bucks strutted sideways through the busy intersections with arched necks, flashing the whites of their eyes and waggling their genitalia at their opposition. Taxis drove carefully around them, as the deer paid no heed. Ume and her mom and I walked on past them, determined to get to the Daibutsu. The deer swarmed all around. They perused the souvenir displays along the path. They napped on the lawns. They followed terrified children who threw the deer-cookies at the animals rather than risk getting close. As we came up the last stone steps through an arbour of golden ginko trees, we had to stop. A wily buck who had escaped being de-antlered was pursuing a doe; she was trying to hide behind groups of people. The buck was getting very frustrated, and let out his horrible deer-scream of a mating call. It wasn't music to the doe's ears, either. She took off through the trees with the buck in hot pursuit. The three of us breathed sighs of relief between exclamations of "abunai!" (dangerous!), and continued on to the Daibutsu.
This guy is big. Re-e-e-eeeally big. He is dark grayish green, with his eyes slitted thoughtfully and his enormous right hand held up in a gesture of peace. He is housed in the worlds largest wooden structure. All around his base, people from everywhere swarm and try to snap his picture in the gloom. Incense burns. Dim sunshine streams through the slats on the sides of the structure. We could walk right around him; behind him and to his left, there was a sort of hole hollowed out in the base of one of the enormous wooden pillars that supports the building. Ume had told me about this hole beforehand. "It's the same size as the Daibutsu's nose-hole. When I was in junior-high-school, we had a class trip to Nara. So, if you can fit through the nose-hole," here, she gestured with a fisted arm, "you will be clever in your life. One of my friends couldn't fit through! We laughed at him so much!" So I understood that if I could fit my arm through the Buddha-sized nostril-hole, I would be granted eternal cleverness. Sweet. However, I had misunderstood. It wasn't your arm you had to get through this nose-hole. It was your whole self! (I told you the Daibutsu was big!) I stood with the rest of the large group of onlookers as child after child scooted through, slick and quick. The adults seemed to just be watching. I wasn't going to let this opportunity for lifetime cleverness just pass me by. I crouched down and examined the hole. "It's pretty big," I thought. "And I can fit into a Japanese 'L' size now... so here goes nothing." I dove in. My arms, my head, my shoulders slid in, no problem. Then... my butt. Oh NO, my butt! I'm stuck! Ume came around the front of the hole to snap a photo of me looking flushed and maniacal. I wriggled and tried to use my feet to push me through; I felt helpful hands shoving at my waggling rump. It was no use, I backed out with a sheepish grin and a red face and exclaimed "saiyaku!" (that sucks!) to the incredulous and giggling crowd. The promise of lifetime cleverness, snatched away! Ume soothed me and pointed out that I had emboldened the rest of the adults; now the previous onlookers were diving through, one after the other. Ume's mom said that what I really needed was for the Daibutsu to have a big sneeze-- that would have pushed me through. I asked her who had been trying to help me through, her or her mom, or...? "Some old ladies," she replied. You can always count on the kindness of strangers in Japan!
Yesterday, when I woke up, I had a headache that throbbed regardless of Advil or bed rest or cups of tea. I shut the curtains. First I cancelled my private lesson, then when the headache still hadn't dissipated by 3pm, I cancelled my evening shift at Nova. (For that I will pay the penalty of one day's pay; there are no sick days at Nova allowed, especially when called in after the 11am deadline. And I mean pay-- they won't just cut off a day's salary. I owe it to them.) I lay on my back on the heated floor pad, hiding under the kotatsu table like a child, covering my eyes and my ears. My hurt knee bothered me more by its existence than by any actual pain. Ever since I came to Tokushima, to Shikoku island, I have been harbouring a half-secret dream to attempt the 88 Temple Pilgrimage around the island. It's one of the main reasons I requested Shikoku as my first choice for placement when I became a Nova hack. And now... Well, the Doc said to use my knee as little as possible. Walking 1000 miles for three months doesn't exactly fit in with his recommendations. (See this web page for more info: http://travel-write.com/travel_articles/asia/shikoku_88_temple_pilgrimage/index.htm )
I phoned mom this morning after a long loll in bed with a cup of tea and a mildly soppy Christmas romance novel she'd sent in her latest care package. (I only read these things once a year, I swear!) I wanted a sounding board. Was I doing all right here? She assured me that I was all right, that everyone is very proud of me, etc, etc, everything I needed to hear and more. And, apparently, all Capricorns (her, me, my Auntie Joy and her daughter Cathy, my Auntie Flo) are right out of whack. Our planets are doing the funky chicken or something and all of us feel wonky or dissatisfied, and like our work is getting us nowhere. What do you say fellow goat-girls? True or not true? Are you feeling like greasy-grimy-gopher-guts too? Anyway, it felt good to not feel alone in my fog.
Full appreciation of my life hit me like a wall of roses. I have finally got enough rest. The memories of my Kyoto vacation are starting to percolate now that I've recovered from the assault of the hectic adventure. I finally have an idea about what to do for my family for Christmas (albeit, the gifts will be late). I can choose to be happy. I am relatively healthy. My knee hurts, but I talked with Dad-- he had had a similar knee problem a few years ago, up to the point where doctors were going to operate. He started taking sharks cartilage capsules, and hasn't had a problem since; lucky me! The only thing I recognize in the drug store are the bottles with the pictures of sharks on them! And though the thrilling newness of being in this country may have passed away, it doesn't mean that my learning is complete. It doesn't mean that I'm finished discovering.
Here's one of my recent adventures to prove it:
When we got to Nara, I was surprised to see the deer immediately, and was also surprised by their size. I thought they'd be smaller, more delicate. But they were hefty like large goats, and just as persistent, immediately hounding anybody who stepped towards a deer-snack vendor. Thankfully, most of the males had had their antlers lopped off. I say thankfully because you have to remember that it is autumn in Nara-- these animals are in the full swing of rutting season. The bucks strutted sideways through the busy intersections with arched necks, flashing the whites of their eyes and waggling their genitalia at their opposition. Taxis drove carefully around them, as the deer paid no heed. Ume and her mom and I walked on past them, determined to get to the Daibutsu. The deer swarmed all around. They perused the souvenir displays along the path. They napped on the lawns. They followed terrified children who threw the deer-cookies at the animals rather than risk getting close. As we came up the last stone steps through an arbour of golden ginko trees, we had to stop. A wily buck who had escaped being de-antlered was pursuing a doe; she was trying to hide behind groups of people. The buck was getting very frustrated, and let out his horrible deer-scream of a mating call. It wasn't music to the doe's ears, either. She took off through the trees with the buck in hot pursuit. The three of us breathed sighs of relief between exclamations of "abunai!" (dangerous!), and continued on to the Daibutsu.
This guy is big. Re-e-e-eeeally big. He is dark grayish green, with his eyes slitted thoughtfully and his enormous right hand held up in a gesture of peace. He is housed in the worlds largest wooden structure. All around his base, people from everywhere swarm and try to snap his picture in the gloom. Incense burns. Dim sunshine streams through the slats on the sides of the structure. We could walk right around him; behind him and to his left, there was a sort of hole hollowed out in the base of one of the enormous wooden pillars that supports the building. Ume had told me about this hole beforehand. "It's the same size as the Daibutsu's nose-hole. When I was in junior-high-school, we had a class trip to Nara. So, if you can fit through the nose-hole," here, she gestured with a fisted arm, "you will be clever in your life. One of my friends couldn't fit through! We laughed at him so much!" So I understood that if I could fit my arm through the Buddha-sized nostril-hole, I would be granted eternal cleverness. Sweet. However, I had misunderstood. It wasn't your arm you had to get through this nose-hole. It was your whole self! (I told you the Daibutsu was big!) I stood with the rest of the large group of onlookers as child after child scooted through, slick and quick. The adults seemed to just be watching. I wasn't going to let this opportunity for lifetime cleverness just pass me by. I crouched down and examined the hole. "It's pretty big," I thought. "And I can fit into a Japanese 'L' size now... so here goes nothing." I dove in. My arms, my head, my shoulders slid in, no problem. Then... my butt. Oh NO, my butt! I'm stuck! Ume came around the front of the hole to snap a photo of me looking flushed and maniacal. I wriggled and tried to use my feet to push me through; I felt helpful hands shoving at my waggling rump. It was no use, I backed out with a sheepish grin and a red face and exclaimed "saiyaku!" (that sucks!) to the incredulous and giggling crowd. The promise of lifetime cleverness, snatched away! Ume soothed me and pointed out that I had emboldened the rest of the adults; now the previous onlookers were diving through, one after the other. Ume's mom said that what I really needed was for the Daibutsu to have a big sneeze-- that would have pushed me through. I asked her who had been trying to help me through, her or her mom, or...? "Some old ladies," she replied. You can always count on the kindness of strangers in Japan!
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
I have chondromalacia of my patellae. At least, that was the phrase the doctor pointed to after showing me my x-rays. Am I scaring you yet? No big deal, really, it's just mild chondromalacia of the patellae. What it comes down to is that I used my knee too much in Kyoto, walking up and down temple steps and racing to catch trains and buses, and through shopping arcades and over and through and around and under and back. Then to Nara, to see the deer among the flashing golden colours of the park, the Daibutsu (giant Buddha) with a pinkie finger as large as an average Japanese man, and shopping, and a jillion million leaves in rocket red and alarming yellow and flourescent coral. I saw the thousand red tori gates of Inariyama. I saw the golden temple. I saw the famous zen rock garden. I saw Ninna-ji, and one of the three great gates of Kyoto. I saw the second palace of the... guy. An important guy. And of course, I saw Takarazuka. I think I got myself too hyped up about it; the first story was a historical drama about a samurai named Sakamoto Ryoma and his lover-- not bad, but hard to follow the politics. The stage decoration was weak, the costumes were pretty simple. Ryoma was murdered before intermission, so part two was a disaster called "I LOVE CHOPIN!"... bad dancing and weird costumes. A little trippy, a little laughable-- my friend Ume fell asleep.
Whew. An amazing adventure, to be sure. A million little details assaulted my mind, and I am sure that they will come filtering out in my art and writing for years to come. For now, I am coping with the trauma of being back in Tokushima. God, I make it sound like some horrible thing, being here, now. It's not so bad, it can't be so bad. There are no wars, no starving people. There is a good job, and an apartment in need of dusting, and my little bit of loneliness. I am working on remembering all the good things in my life, to be thankful, etc... and then there are days like yesterday when I just stand in the laundry room sobbing into my clean socks.
I can't say what the matter is, because when I try to figure it out myself, I feel ungrateful. I have so much, and so many good people in my life who hold me up and support me in so many ways; my friends and family who send me thoughtful gifts and postcards and email messages; my Japanese friends who tour me around Kyoto and drop work to take me to the Orthopedic surgeon. I don't lack for love. Only for assurance. What am I doing here?
Whew. An amazing adventure, to be sure. A million little details assaulted my mind, and I am sure that they will come filtering out in my art and writing for years to come. For now, I am coping with the trauma of being back in Tokushima. God, I make it sound like some horrible thing, being here, now. It's not so bad, it can't be so bad. There are no wars, no starving people. There is a good job, and an apartment in need of dusting, and my little bit of loneliness. I am working on remembering all the good things in my life, to be thankful, etc... and then there are days like yesterday when I just stand in the laundry room sobbing into my clean socks.
I can't say what the matter is, because when I try to figure it out myself, I feel ungrateful. I have so much, and so many good people in my life who hold me up and support me in so many ways; my friends and family who send me thoughtful gifts and postcards and email messages; my Japanese friends who tour me around Kyoto and drop work to take me to the Orthopedic surgeon. I don't lack for love. Only for assurance. What am I doing here?
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Tomorrow morning at 8:45 am, I'll be on a bus bound for Kyoto for four days. This is balm to my spirit, as lately I've been feeling a little crappy. I've been having weird dreams and terrible nightmares; in the weird dream category, one of the strangest was when I discovered that I was some sort of wonderous beast that, when milked, gave orange juice instead of milk. My cowrorkers were lined up with glasses and arguing over who got to get the juice first. I think I was some sort of weird-looking creature, fuzzy and orange in colour, part unicorn, part goat. I remember feeling vaguely embarrassed that my coworkers didn't recognize me as Endrene, and now they were going to drink my juice. In the terrible nightmare category, I awoke in a dead panic two mornings ago after dreaming that my dad was drowning in some sort of filtration pond, and I couldn't save him. I phoned home right away to make sure he was still alive (he was). Mom asked why I was having these awful dreams (I had phoned her two days previous, with a nightmare of her hating Christmas... which is impossible!).
Well, the rug is moving under my feet, as it is apt to do. My boss (and good friend) Maz, is leaving Nova in a matter of days; I've already had my final shift with her. That means I am now the senior staff member at my school. What?! Have I ever been the senior anything? Also, two days a week I'll be working at the other school, which means that I will no longer be teaching my favorite kids classes; I'm tearing up just thinking about it. I love those little booger munchers. I'm also on pins and needles awaiting approval from head office so that I can renew my visa. Without it, I'll be back in Canada in January, and I'm not ready to go. To top it off, I seem to be having a somewhat severe attack of homesickness... 'Christmas' (or Kurisumasu') in Japan seems to me to be a farce, a completely commercial holiday. Not to say that it isn't similar back home. However, at home the commercialism would be tempered by advent and the contemplation of the coming of Christ's birth. I can't claim to be as completely Catholic as I once was, owing to the fact that I think all forms of spirituality and thanksgiving are good and equally valid. But I am a girl with a yen for ceremony and deep meaning, so I find myself aching to go to church in a way that I haven't felt in years. I want to sing some expectant carols and smell incense and pine and hear the story of the baby in Elizabeth's womb leaping for joy. You know? I've made do with the purchase of a pointsettia and two Christmas CD's which I have been playing ad infinitum.
So, there's Kyoto to look forward to, to take my mind off of things for a bit. It's still Autumn here; the leaves have just hit their peak in terms of colour and splendour, so I couldn't have planned the timing of this trip better. I'll be meeting up with Ume and her mom at Kyoto Satation. We're going to see the famed Golden Pavilion, and some garden that was featured in Memoirs of a Geisha (dunno which one) and then it's on to Nara to see the Daibutsu (giant Buddha) and hopefully the little deer... and then... Takarazuka! I can't believe how excited I am about Takarazuka!
Taken from Wikipedia:
The Takarazuka Revue began in Takarazuka, Hyogo Prefecture, Japan in 1913 founded by Ichizo Kobayashi, the president of Hankyu Railways, who had the idea to boost sales by staging Western-style musical shows using only young, unmarried women. The name of the troupe comes from the Hankyu Takarazuka Line in suburban Osaka. The Revue had their first performance in 1914, and by 1924 the company had become popular and obtained their own theatre, the Dai Gekijō. Currently Takarazuka performs for 2.5 million people per year. Most fans of the group are women.
Part of the novelty of Takarazuka is that all the parts are played by women, like a mirror-image of Kabuki. The women who play male parts are referred to as otokoyaku (literally "male role") and those who play female parts are called musumeyaku (literally "daughter role"). The costume and set designs are incredibly lavish, and the performances are melodramatically emotional.
How cool is that? I'll be writing all about it following my return next monday... until then,
Namaste
Endrene
Well, the rug is moving under my feet, as it is apt to do. My boss (and good friend) Maz, is leaving Nova in a matter of days; I've already had my final shift with her. That means I am now the senior staff member at my school. What?! Have I ever been the senior anything? Also, two days a week I'll be working at the other school, which means that I will no longer be teaching my favorite kids classes; I'm tearing up just thinking about it. I love those little booger munchers. I'm also on pins and needles awaiting approval from head office so that I can renew my visa. Without it, I'll be back in Canada in January, and I'm not ready to go. To top it off, I seem to be having a somewhat severe attack of homesickness... 'Christmas' (or Kurisumasu') in Japan seems to me to be a farce, a completely commercial holiday. Not to say that it isn't similar back home. However, at home the commercialism would be tempered by advent and the contemplation of the coming of Christ's birth. I can't claim to be as completely Catholic as I once was, owing to the fact that I think all forms of spirituality and thanksgiving are good and equally valid. But I am a girl with a yen for ceremony and deep meaning, so I find myself aching to go to church in a way that I haven't felt in years. I want to sing some expectant carols and smell incense and pine and hear the story of the baby in Elizabeth's womb leaping for joy. You know? I've made do with the purchase of a pointsettia and two Christmas CD's which I have been playing ad infinitum.
So, there's Kyoto to look forward to, to take my mind off of things for a bit. It's still Autumn here; the leaves have just hit their peak in terms of colour and splendour, so I couldn't have planned the timing of this trip better. I'll be meeting up with Ume and her mom at Kyoto Satation. We're going to see the famed Golden Pavilion, and some garden that was featured in Memoirs of a Geisha (dunno which one) and then it's on to Nara to see the Daibutsu (giant Buddha) and hopefully the little deer... and then... Takarazuka! I can't believe how excited I am about Takarazuka!
Taken from Wikipedia:
The Takarazuka Revue began in Takarazuka, Hyogo Prefecture, Japan in 1913 founded by Ichizo Kobayashi, the president of Hankyu Railways, who had the idea to boost sales by staging Western-style musical shows using only young, unmarried women. The name of the troupe comes from the Hankyu Takarazuka Line in suburban Osaka. The Revue had their first performance in 1914, and by 1924 the company had become popular and obtained their own theatre, the Dai Gekijō. Currently Takarazuka performs for 2.5 million people per year. Most fans of the group are women.
Part of the novelty of Takarazuka is that all the parts are played by women, like a mirror-image of Kabuki. The women who play male parts are referred to as otokoyaku (literally "male role") and those who play female parts are called musumeyaku (literally "daughter role"). The costume and set designs are incredibly lavish, and the performances are melodramatically emotional.
How cool is that? I'll be writing all about it following my return next monday... until then,
Namaste
Endrene
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Bubu's Impression of Turkey
(as taken from a text-message he sent to me)
"We ate a turkey's meat. My impression which is not birds it is animal's taste and born. Nobody think it's born are birds. It is to much big and fat one for us. This is our first impression about turkey's taste. Thank you very much for your kindeness. Gochisosama deshita."
(as taken from a text-message he sent to me)
"We ate a turkey's meat. My impression which is not birds it is animal's taste and born. Nobody think it's born are birds. It is to much big and fat one for us. This is our first impression about turkey's taste. Thank you very much for your kindeness. Gochisosama deshita."
Friday, November 24, 2006
I phoned my brother during the late afternoon today, which meant that it was pushing midnight in BC. "You're calling me from JAPAN? That's so cool," he slurred. Uh, yeah dude. I'm kinda living here... Sandy's working as a firefighter in Kamloops, BC, and now for the second year in a row, he's travelled down to Vancouver with a group of other firefighters to string Christmas lights up in Stanely Park for some children's charity. The had finished their work for the day, and had moved on to some pub to celebrate a job well done.
"Did you tell that Japanese creeper to screw off?"
"Nah, man, I haven't dealt with it yet."
"WHAT? Did you get my email? I dressed up like Mike Holmes from Holmes on Homes for Halloween, and I sent you a picture... I look really scary. You can show it to the dude and say 'HE NO APPROVE'."
"What? Who is Mike Holmes?"
"He has a home improvement show..."
"I have no idea, man. I'll Google him."
"So, what's new?"
So, what's new, what's new... Went to Jeff's Annual American Thanksgiving Party last night; I half thought about cancelling, because it was raining. Then I remembered... the smell of turkey. Stuffing. Mashed potatoes. Didn't I say a month ago that I could do without this stuff? I lied. I braved the rain and the dark and the windy kilometer-long bridge, and arrived dripping wet, the first guest. Just in time to mash the potatoes. The cheesy, garlicky, buttery mashed potatoes. Jeff also made lovely little spinach balls, and was surprised to find that no-one else had made or eaten them before. Eventually he had a pretty good turnout; Me, Tomomi, Calvin, Maz, Andy, Jenna, Kat and Melissa. Pretty much everyone brought a bottle of wine, and most of the evening was spent quaffing the contents of the various bottles, praising the spinach balls, talking trivia, and avoiding Jeff's mean dog 'Buu', who is inclined to bite strangers. We also listened to Bani's karaoke recordings. Have you ever heard a largish Australian-Assyrian man sing 'Man, I Feel Like a Woman' by Shania Twain? It's an unparalleled experience.
Today saw me finding my way to the Uchimachi Culture Fair, where some of my artwork was on display. It was a lovely little community 'do, with gorgeous diplays of Japanese quilting, miniature gardening, photography, and artwork by various hobbyists and professionals. I went with Satoshi, and my friends Miho and Yasu joined up with us for a little while. In the farthest room there were tables set up with ink and fruits and vegetables and an encouraging volunteer; I found Miho and Yasu conspiring like kindergarteners at one corner as they painted a red pepper and a bunch of mushrooms, respectively. I sat next to an older lady and we shared a kaki (persimmon) as model between us. It was fun to paint a postcard and have the white-haired ladies come and peer over my shoulder, chanting 'jouzu, jouzu!' After we all finished, the sensei stamped our postcards with the hiragana for the first part of our names ('mi' for Miho, 'ya' for Yasu, 'e' for Endrene). Miho and Yasu left shortly after I had relocated Satoshi, who had been doggedly avoiding an overtalkative gentleman. We went for coffee and shot the breeze for a while, then parted; he for an early night at home, and me-- well, here I am, but I've been traipsing around a bit before now.
I've been going out a little bit more frequently lately, but I'm thinking about dropping of the face of the Tokushima-Night-Life earth, as my natural tendency to attract oddballs has been landing me in one creepy situation after another. I know Bubu thinks that I am responsible for some of the further graying of his hairs: "Sometime you make me more worried than my own daughter!" Probably I tell him and his wife too much about my goings-on, but it's nice to have someone worrying after you. Even if it means that he counts the nights that my apartment light isn't on when he walks home, and then accuses me of "over-play" the next time he sees me. Tonight (avoiding the enormous task of writing and addressing Christmas cards) I cooked them some apples (I found some for only 98 yen a piece!) in brown sugar and nutmeg and placed them, still-warm, on a layer of cookies, and hoofed it over to the shop.
"Remember how I promised to make you apple pie?"
Bubu poked at the plastic wrap and lifted the bowl into the light to inspect it. "This is apple pie?"
"Well..." It was the best I could do without an oven. "It's apple pie En-chan style."
Haruko thouroughly enjoyed the apples and asked for cooking directions. Success! We got to talking about why my apartment was dark last night.
"I went to a Thanksgiving dinner."
"Oh? What foods did you eat?"
"Mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey-"
"Wait, wait, wait, chotto matte-yo, chotto-matte-yo... What? Turkey?"
Turns out turkey is the stuff of dreams. In the Land of No Ovens, the concept of buying and cooking a forigen twenty-pound bird seems well-nigh impossible. With round eyes, Haruko gestured hugely, indicating a big bird, and I nodded-- yes, it was a big bird. I forget sometimes that normalacy is all relative. I explained how Jeff had brought his American oven over in a cargo container, how he had bought the turkey from the Foriegn Buyers Club. Bubu and Haruko pressed me for details of a turkey's appearance, preparation, flavour.
"We have never tasted like this," he said wistfully.
Suddenly I remembered the leg Jeff had sent me home with. "Do you want to? Do you want to try turkey right now?" I scampered to my apartment and back in less than five minutes; the size of the drumstick was exclaimed over, and they both sniffed it curiously. I left, feeling I had done a good deed. Not five minutes after I was back home again, my phone rang; Bubu was making a dinner delivery as a show of thanks. Miso soup! Rice! Shredded cabbage and potato croquettes! That's what this girl likes. Besides... I've joined the Japanese camp on one opinion; I genuinely reccomend a Japanese diet to any regular gas sufferer!
"Did you tell that Japanese creeper to screw off?"
"Nah, man, I haven't dealt with it yet."
"WHAT? Did you get my email? I dressed up like Mike Holmes from Holmes on Homes for Halloween, and I sent you a picture... I look really scary. You can show it to the dude and say 'HE NO APPROVE'."
"What? Who is Mike Holmes?"
"He has a home improvement show..."
"I have no idea, man. I'll Google him."
"So, what's new?"
So, what's new, what's new... Went to Jeff's Annual American Thanksgiving Party last night; I half thought about cancelling, because it was raining. Then I remembered... the smell of turkey. Stuffing. Mashed potatoes. Didn't I say a month ago that I could do without this stuff? I lied. I braved the rain and the dark and the windy kilometer-long bridge, and arrived dripping wet, the first guest. Just in time to mash the potatoes. The cheesy, garlicky, buttery mashed potatoes. Jeff also made lovely little spinach balls, and was surprised to find that no-one else had made or eaten them before. Eventually he had a pretty good turnout; Me, Tomomi, Calvin, Maz, Andy, Jenna, Kat and Melissa. Pretty much everyone brought a bottle of wine, and most of the evening was spent quaffing the contents of the various bottles, praising the spinach balls, talking trivia, and avoiding Jeff's mean dog 'Buu', who is inclined to bite strangers. We also listened to Bani's karaoke recordings. Have you ever heard a largish Australian-Assyrian man sing 'Man, I Feel Like a Woman' by Shania Twain? It's an unparalleled experience.
Today saw me finding my way to the Uchimachi Culture Fair, where some of my artwork was on display. It was a lovely little community 'do, with gorgeous diplays of Japanese quilting, miniature gardening, photography, and artwork by various hobbyists and professionals. I went with Satoshi, and my friends Miho and Yasu joined up with us for a little while. In the farthest room there were tables set up with ink and fruits and vegetables and an encouraging volunteer; I found Miho and Yasu conspiring like kindergarteners at one corner as they painted a red pepper and a bunch of mushrooms, respectively. I sat next to an older lady and we shared a kaki (persimmon) as model between us. It was fun to paint a postcard and have the white-haired ladies come and peer over my shoulder, chanting 'jouzu, jouzu!' After we all finished, the sensei stamped our postcards with the hiragana for the first part of our names ('mi' for Miho, 'ya' for Yasu, 'e' for Endrene). Miho and Yasu left shortly after I had relocated Satoshi, who had been doggedly avoiding an overtalkative gentleman. We went for coffee and shot the breeze for a while, then parted; he for an early night at home, and me-- well, here I am, but I've been traipsing around a bit before now.
I've been going out a little bit more frequently lately, but I'm thinking about dropping of the face of the Tokushima-Night-Life earth, as my natural tendency to attract oddballs has been landing me in one creepy situation after another. I know Bubu thinks that I am responsible for some of the further graying of his hairs: "Sometime you make me more worried than my own daughter!" Probably I tell him and his wife too much about my goings-on, but it's nice to have someone worrying after you. Even if it means that he counts the nights that my apartment light isn't on when he walks home, and then accuses me of "over-play" the next time he sees me. Tonight (avoiding the enormous task of writing and addressing Christmas cards) I cooked them some apples (I found some for only 98 yen a piece!) in brown sugar and nutmeg and placed them, still-warm, on a layer of cookies, and hoofed it over to the shop.
"Remember how I promised to make you apple pie?"
Bubu poked at the plastic wrap and lifted the bowl into the light to inspect it. "This is apple pie?"
"Well..." It was the best I could do without an oven. "It's apple pie En-chan style."
Haruko thouroughly enjoyed the apples and asked for cooking directions. Success! We got to talking about why my apartment was dark last night.
"I went to a Thanksgiving dinner."
"Oh? What foods did you eat?"
"Mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey-"
"Wait, wait, wait, chotto matte-yo, chotto-matte-yo... What? Turkey?"
Turns out turkey is the stuff of dreams. In the Land of No Ovens, the concept of buying and cooking a forigen twenty-pound bird seems well-nigh impossible. With round eyes, Haruko gestured hugely, indicating a big bird, and I nodded-- yes, it was a big bird. I forget sometimes that normalacy is all relative. I explained how Jeff had brought his American oven over in a cargo container, how he had bought the turkey from the Foriegn Buyers Club. Bubu and Haruko pressed me for details of a turkey's appearance, preparation, flavour.
"We have never tasted like this," he said wistfully.
Suddenly I remembered the leg Jeff had sent me home with. "Do you want to? Do you want to try turkey right now?" I scampered to my apartment and back in less than five minutes; the size of the drumstick was exclaimed over, and they both sniffed it curiously. I left, feeling I had done a good deed. Not five minutes after I was back home again, my phone rang; Bubu was making a dinner delivery as a show of thanks. Miso soup! Rice! Shredded cabbage and potato croquettes! That's what this girl likes. Besides... I've joined the Japanese camp on one opinion; I genuinely reccomend a Japanese diet to any regular gas sufferer!
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