AKEMASHITA OMEDETO GOZAIMASU!!!

To all you wonderful people, happy new year!!! I am sure none of us can believe that yes, it is indeed already (almost) 2006 and that we are about to begin another cycle... but, lets kick it off in grand style, and wherever you may be in the world, whatever you may be doing, whoever you may be doing it with, remember to make TODAY the greatest day of all...

If you get a chance, find a 2006　horoscope online and read it, it will tell you about what the year has in store for you, just for kicks, try to live up to it...

I am writing this from Shibuya, and I wanted to share a bit of something with an individual who goes by the name of Ginza - man, standing at the Ginza 4-chome intersection made me think of you, and realized how great a time we will all have, Japan is a very lovable place...

Again, happy new year...all the best to you.
rdm

WOW

I have lived through many a snow storm in my life, but never has the term taken on a meaning at it has here. A couple of days ago (oh, last Sunday in fact, after my car broke down and I had to ride my bike :-)) it started snowing like mad and hasn't given up since. It has literally snowed non-stop for almost five days (ok, ok, there are brief intervals of cessation, but so brief that they are unnoticeable). So, so far, nothing out of the ordinary. But today it did happen. Its about three thirty in the afternoon, snowing buckets. I'm hanging out in the school hallway, chilling with the ni-nen and san-nen seis (elementary 2nd and 3rd graders), when all of a sudden, I see a bright flash. I'm like, what the, couldn't be...right. But sure enough, right after, a huge thunder strike, shook the damn windows in the building. And so began the first snow storm I'be been in. It has been snowing pretty heavily, and yet, regularly there has been thunder and lighting...its very strange. I don't know if it seems strange to anyone else, but I certainly cannot remember such a thing happening ever before...oh, well, just another day in Japan...

Everything is good. I fixed my car (it was a bad battery). Tomorrow, I have my bonenkai, which is the year-end-party (literally translated as "forget the year" party). My JHS teachers and I are going up to Wakura Onsen (which is a very famous hot springs resort just north of here), where we will indulge in extremely delicious Japanese food and drink (hehhehe) and enjoy an evening of comraderie and communal bathing. (Actually, I'm really excited about it because we'll be in an outdoor bath and it'll be snowing, which will also be a new experience for me). Ok, take care all, hope to have a longer posting soon...

Mama, privezi mne pozhaluista ALTOIDS. Iz Sam's Club, 8 ili 12 shtuk, Wintergreen. Ih zdes' net, a ya kak raz segodnya spomnil, chto po nim uzhasno soskuchilsya...spasibo...do skoroi vstrechi, cherez nedeliu...

RDM

Happy December

Hello all. This whole blog thing is fascinating for me. In the beginning, everything was so new, so heretofore unique that I felt a desire to write it down, to share, to clue others in. That's why posts were frequent, long, detail oriented. It was also a way for me to process all these experiences, by going through them again, writing, picking out the parts that most stuck out, etc. And, in the last couple of months, the frequency of blogging has decreased substantially...not because I haven't been doing anything, but precisely because it has all taken on an eerily familiar feeling to it. As the people around me keep asking, "Ano, nihonno seikatsu ni narimashita ka?" (Have you gotten used to life in Japan,) I can only say that I've grown accustomed to living here. Sure enough, there are still interesting moments when I'm nearly floored by the fact that I'm in Japan (for instance, just the other day, I kind of got lost in a daydream during class while the JTE was lecturing on a grammatical point, and when I came to again, I looked around and briefly couldn't figure out why all the kids were wearing these strange uniforms and were all of Asian descent. And, then, boom, JESUS, I'm on this island on the other side of the world. Its quite a good feeling actually.) But, overally, this feeling has subsided greatly and I go about my day to day as all of us do, because it has become quotidian. Before leaving I didn't necessarily think it would happen so quickly, but it has.

So that leaves the question of the blog. While certainly I want to still use it as a medium to express and narrate my new experiences, I want to also start using it as a forum for discussion and reflection upon experience, rather than simply story telling. Hopefully that will work out.

Not much to say at the moment. On Sunday, I played in the Ishikawa Prefectural Basketball Club Tournament with the Houdatsushimizu Team. (They didn't know what size I was, so they got the biggest damn uniform available (XXXL) so I looked like a clown in it, but nevertheless). I had to guard #17, this lanky S.O.B. who played really rough (which is something I certainly didn't expect) and even though I was the tallest guy on the court, it didn't help our team, and we were defeated by the Wajima team 96-77. A good effort though, and many of our best players were not there. (And, and it might come as a surprise to you folks, but I'm by far not the best player, and size, although it counts for something, doesn't count for much unless its paired with skillz, and on that particular note, I don't sing real well). So we lost, but there will be more games and more fun. Yesterday was the first bowling game of the Ishikawa ALT bowling tournament. My team won, whoohoo. I bowled the best game of my life (170), which was a nice experience.

Nothing much going on at the moment. Trying to plan some stuff for when my family comes to the far east, but I hate planning, so a lot of that will have to be "winged." A couple of weeks ago, went to Osaka, for a rave. We saw Underworld, Chris Cox, and a bunch of others. It was a great time, and lasted from like 9:30 well into the "better catch the first morning train home" time. To party like that with 10,000 Japanese rocks. The place it was at was packed with people, and by 5:00 am, the place looked like a post-Katrina refugee camp, with people passed out in every which way imaginable on every open space of ground, table, chair, rolled, tile, carpet, etc. Great dancing energy fun.

Ok, back to study the Japanese. I heard its snowing over there and is the coldest winter in 25 years. Is that true?

Tuesday, 5:28 PM, a completely ordinary moment...

Overcome by faint feelings of a lazy guilt, I want to free write for a bit about the general state of affairs. I usually leave school every weekday right around 4:15 PM, which is contractually the end of my official working day. Were I in America or were I Japanese, I would stay well past that particular time, consumed by the day to day routines of a real teacher. But here, I am not. I’m guessing I could still stay and participate in the various club activities with the kids, like judo or basketball or tennis (and I have a few times) but it is incredibly difficult for me to do so. The nature of my workday is not busy but it does nevertheless exhaust me. For quite a simple reason, that being, that it still remains a highly foreign environment to me, largely because of the language barrier but not solely. All day, pretty much the only language I hear is Japanese (besides of course the students’ speech – which is probably on par with my own Japanese language ability, read not very good, - the random few words that the non-English teachers know, and the difficult, yet quasi conversations I can have with my JTEs). As much as I’ve been studying (albeit, it is not near where I would like it to be) the language still maintains its mystery and its complete and utter distinction from the Romantic and Indo-European tongues that I’ve been exposed to my whole life. So to be surrounded by this incomprehensible buzz while at the same time attempting to have a somewhat normal, working existence is difficult. To add to that the fact that was is asked of me is extremely minimal (i.e. the system keeps me only so busy) I am left to my own devices to navigate through the time that I have on any working day. And since those devices aren’t really adequate for the task, it’s a difficult experience. (Of course, routinely not getting enough sleep may also have something to do with it). But anyway, that really wasn’t what I wanted to talk about (and if it had a negative slant to it, I apologize, I tried to be neutral). So, I’m walking out the door with the customary “Osaki ni shitsurei-shimasu” (“I’m sorry to be leaving before you) and whoever happens to be within earshot yells out “Otsukaresama desu” (“Thank you for working so hard.”) and this pang shoots through me. Here I am, going home to my carefree existence in Japan, and these people, who are genuinely thanking me, will be there for another four hours, doing what they have been doing for the previous eight (in addition to the actual classroom time they have put in). In a given day, they certainly aren’t faced with the dual dilemma of not systemically having anything to do and not understanding the tongue being spoken around them, so they are truly busy. And here I am, Mr. Foreigner, who doesn’t really do squat, leaving after an “excruciatingly” difficult day… Makes me really respect these people and question my own sincerity in what I’m doing here. I know the typical response a statement like this will evoke…”Well, Roman, your life is what you make of it, if you have certain feelings or beliefs, it is certainly in your power to act on them, if something makes you feel bad, you can ACT to ameliorate the situation, etc, etc, blah, blah, etc.” Well, thank you very much, Mr. Psychoanalyst extraordinaire, but is it really as simple as that? Ok, ok, that may get into really old personal issues, which I don’t want to do here, and won’t, but will simply continue rambling on, probably upsetting those readers who yearn for paragraph breaks. Guess what, they ain’t getting them, because, here in this little world of mine, there is no grammatical rules and is subject have to don’t verb agree with. Maybe time for some snippets. Last weekend, went to Kyoto and had an absolutely gorgeous time there. First time in my life that I traveled by myself and experienced the nouveau exhilaration that comes from the freedom to not be responsible to anyone else but myself for the decisions I make. The city itself is a varied mix of really old, somewhat old (i.e. old, but burnt down, so rebuilt) and new. Just about every block in some parts of the city has a Buddhist temple and the many sects and orders that are available to the believer or even simply a tourist are astounding. Having stayed at a hostel (an experience unmatched since summer 2002, whoop whoop, smazo missing the train in Venice, etc) and rented a bike from it, I spent the days cycling about, stopping where I wanted to, seeing some of the main sites (such as the Imperial Palace, the old home of the emperor, and for those who don’t know, Japan still has an emperor, and the Japanese even count their years from the start of the current emperor’s reign, so we are not in the year Heisei 17, because the current emperor started in 1989, when the old one died, some of the more famous temples, markets, constructions, parks, etc) and generally having a good time. During the night, met some interesting personages and enjoyed the nightlife, of which the city has a bit to offer (not as much as Osaka, but enough). I came back to hostel pretty late, and interestingly, when I was leaving, I found out that I had stayed in the same hostel for two days with two other Ishikawa JETS who I know, completely randomly…

Ok, maybe one paragraph break is all right. What else has happened? Well, there was that Halloween party a while back, some people’s girlfriends (ok, one person’s girlfriend) have left Japan, but not before cooking a bunch of really good Mexican food at my house (am I going to eat me twelve giant burritos topped with enchiladas when I come back or what – there isn’t any Mexican food within a 300 kilometer radius of me), working on a Sunday, school kids having a cultural festival, preparing for my first table tennis tournament (elimination from the first round, coming right up), preparing for my first basketball game with the team (they’re gonna get me a uniform), studying, eating, drinking, drinking, (yeah, just for good measure, its there twice), for some reason, again devouring Murakami like mad (Sputnik Sweetheart, currently), maybe falling in love, waiting, indulging, dreaming, suffering, moaning, being a tad sick for a while, preparing for a visit from my parents (which should be really good, hopefully), sleeping (not enough), having a first genuine night out with Japanese only (read non-English speaking Japanese) friends, oh yeah, teaching, oh yeah. The shogakko. The elementary school that is. I cannot stress enough how much I enjoy teaching the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders, especially at one of my schools. For one, I cannot get over at how genuinely cute these kids are. I’m not one to use that word loosely, but they are soooooooooo cute. I wish I could take pictures and show them, but I don’t know the legality (actually, I probably will at some point.) But they are also super excited to see me and always, ALWAYS, manage to bring a smile to my face. It is an absolute pleasure to work with them, one that diminishes as they get a little older, shyer, etc. I’ll have to write more about this topic in more detail at a later point. But for now, I’ve said, rambled, enough.

Next week, I have the ALT Mid-Year Conference, which, although its not quite near the half-way mark, is still a big “let us pause and reflect” moment for me. Except, a nap must come first.

Its getting cold and the heaters are out. Soon, the snow will start and I will be forced to introvert much more than before. Maybe then, something will happen…

Sunday

Going on three hours of sleep and a slight hangover, we set off at eight in the Sunday morning in a small tour bus, carrying a few of us foreigners (Melanie, Katie, Heather, Blair, and myself) and a number of middle-aged members of the Kahoku City International Club (a small organization for Japanese people interested in international events, etc.) Our first destination, which only became known to me that morning, was the Fukui Prefectural, get this, Dinosaur Museum. Tucked away in the mountains of the prefecture just south of me, this is a fairly modern construction devoted to those fascinating creatures of millions of years ago. Due to slight traffic issues, it turned out we only had 50 minutes at the museum, but it was probably enough. They had all manner of electronic displays, replica skeletons, exhibits, and hundreds of bits of information about dinosaurs, their lives and times.


Two highlights of note: the first, two giant T.V. screens (actually like 16 big T.V.s stacked together on each side) facing each other, with a crowd standing in the middle. You basically view events of Jurassic times (brought to you through the marvels of CGI) on two interactive screens, meaning that things from one could jump to the other by running toward the crowd, leaping, and ending up on the other sides. Pretty cool, we watched a T-Rex type creature attacking them big guys with the long necks that eat from the tops of trees. The second interesting bit concerned animitronic dinosaurs (i.e. life-size plastic, etc. models that were designed to move exactly like the real thing.) It was definitely Jurassic Park style and quite fun to just stand there and observe the realistic movements, of which there were certainly many. Above and beyond, the best 50 minute museum experience I've ever had...


From there, we got back on the bus and headed to the lunch location for the day at an ALL-TOFU restaurant. When I found out, I almost freaked, because a meal without meat in it is something that I don't like to put myself through. But, turned out to be quite delicious in the end. We ate, literally, about six or seven types of tofu, each prepared in a unique way and served in a beautiful manner. Even the desert was soy-based, but luckily, the rice was just good old rice. After the experience, I became a slightly bigger fan of tofu, but its something that I will have on a rare occasion (naturally just to relish it all that much more)

Next destination, the highlight of the day, of the last couple of days or weeks, actually. First, some background.

In 1200 A.D. a monk named Dogen was born in Japan. Raised around Buddhist monasteries throughout his youth, he himself seriously undertook many practices, going as far as traveling to China and studying under a revered master of Zen, a still developing discipline at the time. According to leged, while in China, Dogen realized the way of the Buddha (which may or may not mean enlightenment) and returned to Japan to teach his own particular form of Zen, which eventually developed into the Soto Zen sect. Unsatisfied with the accomodations offered to him and his disciples by the existing monasteries in Japan, he decided to build a brand new monastery deep in the hills of western Japan where he could freely teach his particular way of practice. He succeeded and built a tremendous testament to his life and work that has withstood the test of time and remained a profoundly influential center of Zen practice to this very day, Eiheiji Temple.



We drove up the mountain, disemarked from the bus and walked through the rather large courtyard into the entrance of the main building in the compound. Amidst other crowds of similarly curious tourists (more on that later), we were met by a monk (or, as they're officially called, priest trainee) and led to the fifth floor and into a large, empty tatami room. All of us (probably around 30 or so) were given small round pillows and told to sit on the ground, on knees at first, later lotus style. Meanwhile, the monk introduced the practice and launched us into a full on zazen session. Now, for me, the whole idea of tucking my large legs under me and sitting still (yes, just the mere idea) is a painful one and here we were, right smack in the middle, getting a brief taste of the monk's life. The first three minutes or so were ok. A little uncomfortable, but bearable. And then, the pain started. First, the thighs, then the lower back, then everything, just throbbing. (All of this comes from, I'm assuming, the lack of practice and perhaps stretching). After five minutes, I was ready to die, but it was a thirty minute session. I felt like I would just fall over at some point and lay there, unable to move, but using every ounce of concentration and energy I had, I focused on the pain, imagining it be temporary, unreal. Didn't help, perhaps made it stronger. And remember, the whole point is to eliminate all thought all together, focus on the stillness, nothingness all around. It was raining heavily outside and all that was audible was the water, slowly running down walls, splashing into puddles. Thirty people, sitting completely still. The energy in the room was incredible, the silence occasionally punctured by the obvious sound of someone getting hit with a large wooden stick (I'm still not sure who it was, but as you may know, this is a common practice in Zen, to snap people to attention.) It was the longest, most powerful and painful thirty minutes of my life, and when the bell came to end the session, I felt like it had only lasted 8 or 9 minutes. Wow. Certainly something to be tried again.

After this, the monk led us on a tour of the monastery, which turned out to be absolutely huge. Many rooms, halls, monks walking around, leading other groups or engaging in all manner of chores. We saw the Founder's Hall, where Dogen's ashes (and of many successors) are kept in urns on prominent display. We saw the kitchen and numerous zazen halls. It was quite an elaborate construction, all devoted to this particular way of life. Utterly tremendous overall.

But, it did strike me just how many tourists there were, all having paid an admission price, all walking around hoping for a glimpse of a life they could never commit themselves to. And on top of that, the numerous stalls outside the monastery peddling all sorts of wares to these tourists. Yeah, on the one hand here is this 800 year old temple that has served as a center for enlightenment to so many aspiring Buddhists, and on the other its a commercial money-maker. Taints it a bit, but I won't go any further, because I have absolutely no right to pass judgment. Overall, I had a really refreshing time there and being inside such an institution was one reason for coming to Japan, so I'm fairly glad I got to do it. Oh, for those interested and planning on coming here, many of these types of monasteries, including this one, allow guests to stay in them and live like a monk for a day, two, or however many. It does not cost that much, but you do everything as the monks do, including zazen, eating, cleaning, etc. I'm planning on doing that soon and if anyone is interested, lets talk about it.



Ok. Enough out of me. Its been a long day, and a new week is about to start. Take care. Hope all is well.

Awe

Usually at night. Bonfires corner a tented ring, at the center of which lies a flattened mound of sand, with ropes marking the boundaries. Having just previously frequented the accompanying matsuri and dined on lovely Japanese okunomiyake or takoyaki or yakisoba or a variety of other freshly prepared dishes, the spectators slowly gather round, the luckier ones (or perhaps the ones with higher social standing) get the coveted three benches that line each side of the square. The PA comes on, squeaking out long passages, some devotional, some factual, but all with a deep air of tradition. Something hangs in the air, as if thousand year old rocks are about to come alive and grace those gathered here with their timeless presence. From the outsider's perspective, it does not, cannot, make logical sense. That which is unfolding is uniquely Japanese, uniquely tied to this land, to these people's hearts. I look, I see images, but there exists a missing link in my head. The PA quiets down, followed by a lonely drum beat. Soon, the silence is ruptured, as the taiko roars, and ten, twenty (one thousand) drummers unleash a violent sound storm into the night. The crowd hushes up, communally in awe. Any minute now it will begin and the anticipation is practically livid. The entrance to the big tent on the side slowly opens and from it emerge the starring attractions of the evening. Clad in extravagant kimonos, they slowly and determinedly, yet with an air of elegance, walk toward their stage, where for a few brief moments each of them will command the eyes, ears, and hearts of everyone present. The crowd admires, wihtout public judgment, even though privately all are making their bets. From appearances, it is difficult to tell who will be triumphant but all have been waiting a long time for this, eagerly preparing, anticipating. As the time nears for the starting gong, the kimonos are shed, revealing rather large human bodies, dressed in nothing but a thick strong cloth designed to cover the minimal and the most private part of the male anatomy. It turns out these are all kids, high school students, between 15 and 18 years of age, but from their size and demeanor, they almost look older, wiser. The referee, dressed in the most elaborate kimono of all, steps into the center of the ring and makes what appear to be introductory announcements. The gong sounds and the tournament begins. In all, there are probably fifty wrestlers, each of whom has committed (or perhaps sacrificed) his mind and body to this endeavor known as sumo, the national sport of Japan...

We all heard of it, some of us may have seen it on TV, if only for a few brief moments, but I don't think any of us, including myself, had the slightest idea about the importance, relevance, and esteem of this tradition in Japan. The most popular sport in Japan is, by far, baseball, an American import, which undoubtedly must be a bane to the pride of many Japanese. And so they revere sumo, which, with its more than a thousand year tradition, cannot be claimed by any other culture or nation. Originally closely linked to the Shinto faith, the sport has evolved to become a major phenomenon(The fact that, professionally, the sport is currently dominated by non-Japanese (with the rising star hailing from Bulgaria) must also cause some consternation, but nevertheless.) This is much more than a purely spectator sport, because intuitively it isn't all that much to look at. (I mean, and I say this without any offense, the main sight is two unusually fat men, wearing nothing but thick thongs, slapping, grabbing, hugging, and trying to lift the other out of the ring or drop them on the ground.) Because it is so wound up in tradition, because it has been happening for a very long time, and because it provides an occasion for local residents to come together and enjoy their community, it is inevitably reveered and will continue to thrive for a good long time to come. Surely, there is a professional aspect to it, just like any other major sport, but to become a sumo wrestler is to be respected, admired, and loved much more than a major league baseballer or NBAer. Training usually starts in elementary school and continues on through to high school. Naturally, many do not pursue it past that, but some do, and it comes to dominate an entire lifestyle. There's so much more to say, about all the rules, all the ranks, all the special moves, but that's for another time and place...

The first two fighters emerge, face each other. Each bows to their coaches, to the judges, to the referee. Each brushes aside some sand, goes down into the posture, slaps his thights, rises up again, walks up to the starting line. Again, they engage in ritual, eyeing each other all the while. Finally, they get in the ready stance, crouching, both fists firmly in the ground. The referee gives his mark, and they're off. It lasts but a few seconds, ending brusquely with a throw or a simply push. At the end, they both bow, the winner squats in victory. They walk off, and two more fighters emerge. The weeks and months of training are devoted to those few split seconds of glory, of ultimate reverence. As I have said before, it is beyond my comprehension, but well within the bounds of my awe...

http://www.absoluteastronomy.com/encyclopedia/s/su/sumo.htm

Finally

I finally, after months of waiting and impatience, got internet at home. So, I'm a very happy camper and I would like to explore the whole skype thing if anyone is interested. Also, who does AIM? Anyone? Its nice and convenient and I got on there (SN is mjkteat). Let me know yours.

Ok. Off to KZ. Oh, put some new pics up, take a look, if you're interested...

http://public.fotki.com/PhotoMoose/romans/nippon_fall_2005/

Take care.

Bit O' Travel

The last two weekends of my life have been spent away from home. A couple of weeks ago, some friends and I swung down to Nagoya, which is Japan’s third largest city. Let me tell you, after spending a few months in the countryside, it was really good to see the crowds again, and I do mean crowds in the mosh pit sense of the word. It was especially bad that weekend because it was the closing two days of the World Expo. For those of you not in the know, every five years, at some previously chosen point, there is a World Exposition. In 2000, it was held in Hanover, Germany, and in 2010 it will be in Shanghai, but this year (it opened in March) it was held in Aichi, Japan, which is just outside of Nagoya. Basically, it is a huge (we’re talking multiple square miles) area where various countries set up pavilions and display all kinds of things about themselves. It’s a chance for others who may not get a chance to travel much to see and learn about all parts of the world. But more on that in its chronological time and place. Friday was a day off, so we hopped on the bus in the morning and a short 3.5 hours later, we arrived in the heart of Nagoya. The rush of seeing thousands of people walking the streets made me feel somewhat alive, refreshed. It was definitely a good energy. We got on the metro and rode down to Sakae, the shopping district, to grab a bite to eat before heading to Nagoya Castle, one of the few “touristy” sight seeing attractions of the city (because the city fell victim to massive bombing raids during World War II, most of it had to be rebuilt, which would explain why most of the buildings are not more than fifty years old, a fact that explains Nagoya’s lack of standard “old” sightseeing attractions.) Naturally, we got there at 4:27 PM and the castle and the park surrounding it closed down at 4:30. So we took what glimpses we could and just sat around, waited for the sun to go down, got bit by these nasty little flies and headed off for the dining location for the evening, an Okinawan restaurant.

There, we were actually meeting some Japanese folks (Melanie’s (Melanie is one of the people we were with) ex-boyfriend is Japanese and lives in Nagoya and showed up with some of his friends to the restaurant)). At first, it was somewhat odd, because of the language barrier but the sake got going and seemed to at least melt it away a little bit. The food turned out to be not so good (but expensive enough to pretend to be good) and there was this one-man band there who sang Okinawan music, which was ok for about three songs, but then seemed like he put them on repeat. We finished up quickly and then were taken by Hiroshi (the ex-boyfriend) to this Australian bar down the street, which featured an eclectic mix of music as well as Japanese and foreigners. We hung there for three hours or so, continuing the merriment, getting to know each other, the locals, and even some other fellow JETS from the Nagoya area. It was actually a pretty good time and I got to know phone number number one for the weekend. At about 1:00 AM or so, we began the three hour search for the lodgings for the evening (remember that EXPO, yeah, everything was booked) which was to be that unique Japanese creation, the Love Hotel.

What is a love hotel? Well, in Japan, many young people live with their parents much longer than in other countries (probably due to a little bit of the “lack of vast open lands for people to live in” as well as Japan being quite a filial society). So, its quite common to find 20 somethings living with their parents and grandparents in the same house (hmm, I can say the same for myself) and obviously it would be quite a tricky feat to bring a loved one (or simply an attracted one) to the house and engage in acrobatics with one’s grandmother sleeping in the next room. Luckily, there’s a love hotel down the street where you can get a room by the hour or for the entire night. Another reason is that (and this is much more of a conjecture on my part) in Japan, the idea of fidelity is an important one on a very shallow level. In public appearance and within the realm of the “talked about,” yeah, everyone is faithful, involved in deeply committed, loyal, treasured relationships and marriages. But, within the more hush, hush private realm, this is highly not the case. Cheating, in fact, is quite common and even perhaps acceptable and tolerated, as long as it is not openly talked about, takes place out of sight, out of mind, and is kept purely between the two (or more) committing the act. Something everybody knows, no one will admit, and it continues to operate, and a love hotel is a perfect invention to keep this mechanism going. The basic set up is the following. Outside urban centers, the building has as many garages as it has rooms. You pull into a garage, you walk up a set of stairs, and you go into your room (all the rooms are unlocked). Once you are in, you are locked in until you choose to leave. (There is no checking into a love hotel, there is no come and go as you please). In more urban spots, you park in a communal garage, but there is a separate in and out elevator, so you never have to cross paths with anyone coming out. Once inside, the rooms are actually quite nice. They are super clean (another amazing feat of Japanese technical wizardry) and contain all the amenities suitable to living up to the name of the institution. Once you are finished with the room, you leave and pay for the time you were in there (its all electronically monitored through the opening and closing of the door) through a slot in the wall. Slide money in, leave, and no one knows any different…conclude what you will…

Since they are cheaper than regular hotels, we had decided that it would be a convenient place to spend the night. They are usually pretty easy to spot, as they are decorated with all kinds of crazy neon signs and have strange architecture, as well as ringer names like “Malibu Oasis” or “Heaven Hotel.” The first one we went to was all filled up, completely. In the lobby, there were several waiting rooms, but we decided that it might be a long wait. The second had a Ferrari F-150 standing behind a glass case in the garage, but it too turned out to be quite full. At this point, we assumed that all the ones in the downtown area would be full, so we began to make our way out to the suburbs, which would be closer to next day’s destination anyway. Two or three hotels later, we finally found one that had vacancies (thank god for those Japanese friends, who literally drove around for like two, three hours trying to find a bunch of foreigners a love hotel). It was an individual garage set up and we finally got up to our room, which we would be sharing between five people. The room had a small living room area with a T.V. and a fridge containing a number of “things” other than the usual hotel fridge fare. The bathroom was nice, all granite and stone like, with a huge shower area and a rather big Jacuzzi. But the highlight was the bedroom. Literally, every inch of the walls and ceilings were covered with mirrors (even the windows were mirrored); never quite been in a room like it. The bed was a king and had speakers and stereo built in. On the whole a rather nice room, except we couldn’t figure out how to turn off the A/C, so it got quite cold. We slept for about four hours, before setting off for the EXPO. (As a side note, many of these hotels come with themed rooms – i.e. ocean, jungle, Paris, use your imagination.)

Since we were in the middle of nowhere and didn’t really know how to get to where we were going, we had to hitch hike. (Here’s a lovely picture for you – six foreigners standing outside of a Love Hotel, trying to flag down a car). After only five minutes, a nice Japanese man in a van pulled over and offered to drive us to the train station, which we discovered was for a railroad (an elevated monorail) that was built specifically for the EXPO. We got to the grounds (which were humongous), queued up, and got in. First thing we did was to ride the aerial gondolas to get an idea of what we were up against. They took us across the entire expo and upon disembarking, we ended up right next to the Russian pavilion (yeah baby) and so that was our first stop. The theme of this EXPO was the environment and conservation and all that good stuff, so many of the pavilions were devoted to exhibiting what particular countries are doing for this cause. The Russian one wasn’t all that interesting, actually, so it proved to be a quick breeze. From there, it was on to the UK, Switzerland, Holland (yeah baby), Africa (funny how all these countries get their own pavilion, and then there’s the country of Africa.) We had some pretty good African food (ostrich curry, I didn’t know they had ostriches in Africa). Among others we visited were Germany, Spain, Iran, Nepal, India, China, Qatar (yeah, that’s a country), Australia, and my personal favorite, Bhutan (a tiny Buddhist country up in the Himalayas). It would be too much to go into details here about all these pavilions (if you’re interested, then google “World Expo 2005 Aichi”) but I will make a number of remarks. First, we saw only a brief part of the Expo and it would literally take days to see the whole thing because it was so huge. Second, because it was the second to the last day (of an EXPO that started last March) there were approximately a billion people there, which meant that the lines to get into these pavilions were quite long, and very reminiscent of waiting for the rides at Great America. But, in many cases we avoided that problem, because between us we had seven languages with some level of conversation, and so we sweet talked our way into some pavilions without having to wait at all. These pavilions were run by people from those countries. The German case was most striking, where the line was 3.5 hours (yeah, 3.5 hours). Two of the girls we were with spoke German and flirted with the German fellow at the front and we got in after only five minutes. I actually felt quite guilty walking in front of all these poor Japanese who had been standing in line for so long. But, so be it… Third, it was interesting to see that the richer countries could afford to make highly elaborate displays actually having to do with the environment, etc. while the poorer ones were mostly bazaars, selling stuff from their countries for excessively inflated prices (i.e. Nepal, where I briefly considered buying an elaborate mandala that would have run me about $100). After an exhausting day, we made our way back into the city, got freshened up in the subway bathroom, and tried booking a room at the Hilton for a healthy $279/night. But, alas, they were booked up as well and we were left with a night on the town.

We met up another friend of Melanie’s (the soon to be phone number number three) and headed for our destination for the evening, the id Bar. On our way, we stopped over at an amusement arcade (a whole other entry at some point in the future) where we went to the photo booths for some pictures. These are not like the photo booths that you know. They are quite spacious (could fit up to eight people) and afterwards you can add a gajillion effects and alterations to your photos, print them, email them, probably animate them, and all sorts of other business. Here, I met phone number number two and her friend, and we took some pictures. Fun times. Finally, we got to the club, sorted out our luggage in the lockers, and began to properly enjoy the night. It was one of those four story things, where each story has a bar and a dj is spinning a different type of music. We chilled in the basement for a while, where it was mostly 80s stuff, including Thriller. Then, up to the first floor, where there was some trance and house (yeah, baby, yeah). It was amazing to see Japanese people dance to this stuff. There was a bit of a state, which was actually a series of long steps, and the dancers lined up on it and faced the crowd. Each had a glow stick or two and they danced in complete uniformity to the music. It was hot and sweaty and an entirely really good time (best time I’ve had out dancing in a while…) At around 2:00, the place shut, and we left, walking the streets of Nagoya, enjoying the night with its denizens. Feeling a bit of the old hunger, we went to (drum roll please), Denny’s. The mere sight of it got me really excited because I have been dreaming of a Moons over my Hammy for quite some time, but it turned out to serve Japanese food, plus some strange pasta dishes, with the only similarity with its American counterpart being a side of French toast. But, food is food and it had to do. At a healthy 3:30, it was time to find a place to crash, and what better place to do so than a 24 hour karaoke parlor, where you rent a room by the hour to sing your heart away. Of course we didn’t realize that the room would be the size of a prison cell, perfect for singing and drinking, not quite so right for housing six people for the night. But, there was no choice, we laid out how we could, three on the floor (me by the door, two underneath the table) and three on the little benches that lined the wall. Let me tell you it was the most atrocious sleeping experience I’ve had in a while, but we shared it all together and actually managed to get some hours of sleep. (And we didn’t even bother singing). The next day, we had a nice traditional Japanese breakfast, headed to the bus station and some hours later, came back to sleepy, old Ishikawa, to conclude an exhausting but thoroughly enjoyable weekend. Definitely will go back to Nagoya at some point as it was a very nice city and why not put those phone numbers to good use?

And just as you thought this intolerably long blog was coming to its conclusion, there’s still a whole other weekend to write about, last weekend. But I’ll make it as short and brief as possible… I went to Nagano (the site of the ’98 Winter Olympics) where there was an all Japan ALT soccer tournament. Basically, every prefecture (i.e. Ishikawa, sort of like the states in the US) has ALTs (me, Assistant Language Teacher), and some of them get together to start up a soccer team (both boys and girls have their own team). And so the Ishikawa team, along with about twenty or so others got together in Nagano for a two days soccer tourney. Our team isn’t very good and I’m not even on it, but I got bamboozled into going as a spectator and a cheerer. It was about a four hour drive, and it turned out to be not in Nagano proper, but in the mountains just outside of the city (a hell of a ways up in the mountains, in fact, where a nice big plateau housed a bunch of hotels and soccer pitches). The first night was all strategy and getting some rest. The next day, Saturday, soccer was played all day. I watched a girls’ match (I’m sorry, but it was utterly pathetic) and four of the boys’ matches, which were actually enjoyable to watch. Our boys team (historically highly bad) actually managed to win one of these, but it was hard work. That night, the hotel hosted a party for us (there were like three hundred people) and being there actually felt like being back home (its funny how that sometimes happens, especially when I’m surrounded by other foreigners, I briefly forget where I am, and when I do remember, its quite a shock.) Everyone was quite exhausted, except me, who had done nothing but lounge around all day on the grass and yell occasional “I say Ishi, you say Kawa – Ishi, Kawa.” The dj was kind of crap and so many congregated outside, talked, relaxed, and even though the whole thing was a disgusting meat market, I did manage to meet some nice interesting people. Hm, where did Roman spend the night?
The next day was the elimination tournament and both of our teams got through one game before being eliminated. We ate some kareraisu for lunch (pronounce that slowly several times and you’ll figure out what it is) and headed home. On the way, we got a speeding ticket (a big no no in Japan, I wasn’t driving luckily), and the fine was a whopping $350 for going like 30 km over. Anyway, another long, happy weekend in Japan, returning to the countryside and resuming the responsible working life. Ok, I think I have exhausted myself writing this (but it has to be the longest blog ever). If fact, I doubt that anyone got this far…

Anyway, hope all are well. Missing the home land. This weekend, I’m off to Osaka, for a concert. Sooo excited. The OFFSPRING baby. Yeah, baby. Yeah, baby. When we went to buy tickets for the show, they were almost sold out and they could only sell individual tickets, as there were no seats left that were together. So we buy one, and kaboom, its sold out. And who got that last ticket? Yeah, baby. Terribly excited. And plus I get to see Osaka…

Ok, boys and girls, take care of yourselves and go do something productive… Much love…
P.S. Read Mr. Murakami’s “The Kidney Shaped Stone That Moves” in the New Yorker. Its quite good. In other Murakami news, sometime next year, he will release another volume of short stories in the U.S.. In Japan, he has either recently published or will soon publish his newest novel, After Dark. Who knows when that’ll be translated, but hopefully soon, but not before the next TOOL disc. Ok, ok, I’m done, I’m done. Out.

Once Upon a Time in Japan

It has been a little while since I posted anything here, mostly because I have been fairly routinely busy and also have not had that special bit of inspiration that usually precedes such an endeavor. I must also confess that I do not particularly feel inspired at this point, but there is some information I would like to convey about my life in the recent past. I have settled into a “work” routine (I am still working on trying to figure out a “leisure” routine). Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays, I work at Shio Junior High School, where there are about 250 kids, and at some point I teach all of them. Let me clarify. It is not exactly teaching, nor is it even assistant teaching. Since I cannot speak Japanese enough to clarify grammar points of the English language, and because the kids’ skills are just at the beginning level, most of the teaching is done in Japanese by the JTE (Japanese teacher of English). What is required of me is to read in standard English and have the students repeat. That is the barebones of what is in my job description. If I was at a high school, where the level of English was higher, perhaps the situation would be different, but such are the circumstances that I am in. Of course, this is not to say that I do not take a more active role. I do plan some activities and games so that the kids can have some fun with practicing the language and get away from the monotonous routine that is English language instruction in Japan (they have been reading the same passages every day for the last six months, most have it memorized by heart and do not really understand what they’re saying, but everyday there is “reading practice” and that is exactly what happens.) Some of the kids are good, others not so good. Again, because all abilities are placed in one classroom, I am just amazed at the striking amount of differences between the kids. In each class, there’s a group of 3-6 boys who do absolutely nothing in class, except talk, make paper airplanes, and engage in general hooliganism. I try to do what I can to control them, but the English teachers I work with have come to accept this behavior as a necessary part of teaching and do relatively little to control it. So, at times, it seems a little absurd. There’s teaching going on and at the same time, in one or two corners of the room there’s so much noise and extraneous activity that I can’t really understand how the other students can pay attention. But they do diligently and its something that has to be accepted. On the whole, the job is easy and provides me with no real worries. If I choose, I don’t have to do much more than just show up and do what is asked of me. I choose to do more than that, but at the same time, I have to keep my expectations realistic (i.e. these are centered around language ability, which is low). Is it rewarding? Still too early to tell, as I’m still getting to know the students. Once I know them better, then I think it will improve tremendously.

And then there are the elementary schools. I go to two every week, on Wednesdays and Thursdays, where I teach grades 1 through 6 (ages 6-12). This is a whole other experience. In Japan, the shyness and timidity do not kick in until after the kids leave elementary school, so their desire to learn, to practice, to try new things, to interact with something as foreign and as big as myself is amazing. For the lower grades, I am a jungle gym. Whenever I’m walking down the halls and one of the kids spots me, he/she yells “Marchenko sensei” and then I have a veritable flood of 6-7 year olds running toward me, all yelling, all diving, all trying to grab a good spot to hang from. It is unbelievable how these kids never get tired. Maybe this will change once they have become more used to me, but it is quite a pleasant experience just to be walking in the school and receive this kind of reaction. Its quite difficult to describe even. In terms of the classes themselves, here I have a lot more freedom. The teachers don’t really speak any English, and because they are responsible for teaching all subjects, they just leave the teaching of English to me. They provide me with the basic outlines of a curriculum and then set me free to do what I want, which is mostly playing games with the kids. The idea is to get them interested in learning English, to get them used to its sounds, and to maybe learn the very basics. Thorough English instruction does not take place until junior high, so all of this is like a six year introduction to the language. The hard thing about it is that if I use English, they don’t understand what I’m saying, but if I use Japanese, there really isn’t all that much I could say. But again, that doesn’t really matter. I’m not there to ensure that the kids can pass an exam in English, but rather just to give them a chance to talk and a be around a foreigner. Recess is especially interesting and the kids routinely drag me out to the playground for an hour’s worth of mad hustling about and all sorts of chaos. I’ll have to think of various games I can teach them so that recess can be a bit more organized. Any ideas? Oh, and then of course there is school lunch. As I’ve said before, everyone eats the same meal (usually consisting of rice, some type of salad, some type of meat, perhaps some miso, another side dish, and milk). Its contents are centrally planned, and I guess are meant to be very healthy. Usually, its pretty good, although I must admit that sometimes the lack of real variety is somewhat saddening. But anyway, at on of the elementaries, all the kids eat in one big lunch room (in the other and at the junior high, the kids eat in their classrooms). Each class has its own long table. The lunch is prepared by the kitchen, but it is served by the kids themselves. The first time I saw this sight, I absolutely could not believe it. Each class designated five or six kids to serve lunch. So each one of them puts on a big white smock and a chef’s hat, gloves, and a face mask. And of course they’re all miniature sized as these kids are very young. And then the procedure begins. Plop some food down here, place a plate here, put the milk out, pour out the soup. It looks like some sort of hospital or something with all the little doctors running around, knowing precisely what do to. I absolutely could not believe it the first time, but getting more used to it. I eat with these kids (that’s quite a sight as well because the chairs, tables aren’t really designed for my height but rather for 6-12 year olds; did I mention I stick out like a sore thumb in Japan?) Needless to say, the elementary schools are the funnest but also the most exhausting parts of my working week. I cannot emphasize enough how cute these kids are, especially the younger ones and their eagerness to mimic the world around them makes them a highly enjoyable group to be around.

On a different note, about two weeks ago, the J.H.S. had its annual Sports Day, where the kids are divided up into the red team and the blue team and spend the whole day competing in all sorts of athletic events. These included stuff like tug of war, relay races, a bizarre event where teams had to hold up these poles with flags on them and the opposing team had to knock down the poles in order to try and steal the flags, another where the kids had to run to the center of the field to grab as many tires as they could and if one was contested, there would around twenty kids around it, trying to drag it back to their sides, teams of two kids carrying a third on their backs trying to grab the hat of the opposing side, teams carrying a long stick having to run around cones, “big pants” races, where two kids are in one giant bag and have to hop around, racing the other team. It was pretty fun and active. I participated in the last event which was a relay race (the first leg was a sprint, the second was a backward sprint, the third was a jumprope sprint, the third was a hop (with both legs tied together), and finally the anchor was also a sprint. The teachers formed a team and competed against some of the boys teams. I was the anchor for the teachers’ team. I received the baton in second place and had a reasonably good chance of getting first, but naturally I had to confuse the finishing line and thought that the race was over when there was actually like thirty meters left, so the poor old teachers team got fourth place out of five, all thanks to the foreigner. It was a long, hot, exhausting day, but the end was rewarded with another unique Japanese work experience, the enkai, or office party. All the teachers got together and drove to this resort (a hotel, restaurant, and public bath). First, naturally, was the communal bath. Yeah. No questions, no choice. You strip down to the skinnies and take a bath. Probably a usual experience in many lives and cultures, but not in my own. Here’s the routine. In the locker room, you strip down, then proceed to the shower area (Japanese showers are all taken sitting down on these stool in front of a mirror, with the shower in front of you). Go for a nice scrub down, get all the dirt out. Then you get into this steaming hot pool and chill out and relax. This one had an indoor one and an outdoor one. We all sat there, relaxed, talked. (Its unisex of course, cause everyone is naked, but I do know of some that are coed). After a while, you go to the sauna and then shower off and get dressed again. Let me just say that once you’re naked around the people you work with, you somehow feel closer to them, like you’ve all shared something vulnerable together. It was quite a good experience. After which, we all had dinner. Again, a big room, everyone sitting around. Some speeches (this was after all a welcome party for me), and then the “kanpai” (toast), and then the drinking. You can’t pour your own glass and the others will not allow your glass to become empty, so there’s no way of keeping track of consumption. But it don’t matter. You eat, you drink, you talk, you’re merry. Here was a chance to drop all the formalities of the work place and just hang back. Everyone was merry, talking, chatting up on all sorts of subjects. I talked to many of the teachers that I only nod at at work, so it was quite a good time all around. After about two hours of that, about half went home, and the other half went out for the second party at a local karaoke joint. Whiskey and water, and snacks. And let me tell you, there’s nothing like getting up on stage and singing “Like a Virgin” with a fellow teacher, who barely knows the words and can barely stand. And of course, I sang “Baby One More Time” with my English teacher. As some may know, I can’t sing at all, cause there’s only one pitch to my voice, and singing requires a bit more than that. But, the great thing is, it doesn’t matter one iota. Its all about getting up there and doing it and not caring. So that’s exactly what happened. Maybe it’ll get better with time, but probably not. Anyway, after about two hours of this, the night drew to a close, we packed into a cab (again, nothing like four drunken men in the back of a cab together) and happily were driven back home. Great times. What more can I say?

Oh, time to teach a bit now. Will have another post really soon. Again, sorry for the delay. So much more to say. Hope everyone is doing well. I’ve been in Japan for about two months now, but it certainly doesn’t feel that way. Life is interesting, to say the least. Ok, happy campers, write me something. Carry on.

First Day

After being in Japan for one month (even more) I was asked to perform an absolutely minimum of what we would normally consider work. So, the fact that classes started last week and this week I have actually been at the front of the classroom constitutes another major milestone for me. Not enough time has passed yet to come to any sort of formative judgment or conclusions but I can at least jot down some initial impressions. The first of which is, unfortunately, that I am not at a high achieving school, at least in terms of English instruction. Sure, there's a handful of students in each grade (there are three, equivalent of 7, 8, and 9th grades) who are very much willing and eager to learn English, but most just want to get through the requirements and forget about it (hm, perhaps reminiscent of our own school experiences) and some simply do not care. The first time I was with a particular class, I did a self-introduction. Basically, I made a worksheet and a bunch of posters (one about Chicago and its "landmarks," a couple about my family and friends) and I asked the kids to respond to questions about my presentation. Not a one was able to fully complete the assignment (which is a good indication to me of the skill levels I will be working with). I also asked them to draw a picture of me, some of which were pretty good, others were funny, and some even downright offensive. During each class, I got a chance to walk around and meet the students one on one. Basically, it was asking them what their names were and how they were doing. Most struggled a bit. And, in Japan, the universal answer to "How are you?" is "I'm fine, thank you, and you?" 100%. No exceptions. And a brief comment on student mentality in Japan. Whenever they're asked a question, they will not answer unless a brief consultation takes place with their friends. For example, I ask a kid, "how old are you?" After a confused look at me, they turn to their friends, one of whom goes, "nan sai," translating my question. Then another says "thirteen." At this point, the original victim braves an answer. Next, I ask the same question to the kid who gave the original translation, and he/she in turn will ask classmates for a translation, even though he/she just did it. That's just the way it works. Unless there's consensus, there will not be progress. And if you ask a kid to do something in front of the class without the ability to consult, there may be interesting situations afoot. For example, we were doing some reading practice, and two kids had to stand up and practice a conversation out of their books, simply reading something like "There are many vending machines here." So, two kids stand, and the first simply wouldn't read. He simply stood there and the class waited. It was literally five minutes before the teacher allowed him to sit down, but otherwise there was complete silence. I almost died. What's the point? I don't yet know.

Another minor point. In each class, there's usually a group of boys who are the "cool" kids, which means they don't do any work and to show any interest in school would be an absolute outrage and humiliation. So they just talk all period. It is quite distracting, but the teacher seems to allow this to happen, as if its something that is taken for granted. I'm like, jesus be quiet, some of us are trying to learn, but they don't really care, and nor do the teachers. Classroom management is its own little unique Japanese experience here.

So, where do I fit into any of this? Well, I want to have a positive role here, to encourage the kids to learn English for the sake of becoming able to speak another language, not for the sake of passing a required school subject. But, in an environment where there is absolutely no tracking, all abilities are clumped together (up to 40 students a class), and motivation for learning seems to be extrinsic, this turns out to be quite a challenge. As the school year goes on, I will have to carefully monitor my own assumptions as I reflect upon what is required of me and search the field for what I can bring to the school. I don't have a solid enough grounding yet to figure out what I can get away with and what they won't let me do. When more time passes I will write about it more.

Other that all that, not much is new. Japan had its own little natural onslaught in the form of Typhoon Nabi, but my area of the country went considerably unscathed, but of course, its not over yet, so I'm not fully confident it will remain this way. But they certainly were worried enough about it to cancel classes today (but naturally the teachers had to come to school, and when I asked for a justification for this, I was told, "oh, in case of emergency, teachers have to be in school, i.e. if windows start shattering or what not - I didn't really get it) Anyway, now I'm sitting here, and everybody is busy as usual doing God knows what. I'm going to join the effort as well. (I get the sense that the overall tone of this post was somewhat moody, dark, gloomy - that's not really the case, its just the wrong time in the morning to be writing this...anyway take care)

Here's a little image of the classroom.
(p.s. look at the pencil case on the desk; probably too small to make out, but the picture/words on it absolutely shocked me, especially in light of the laws in this country; leave that to you to decipher)

What is the world coming to...

Being in relative isolation over here from world news and what not, and especially news from back home, my picture of what is happening is very vague and ambigious. From what I gather, however, there's some tragic stuff going on right now around New Orleans. I can't even really put it into words, but having just been there last April, I cannot begin to imagine the devastation that people are going through over here. To those reading this who are geographically closer to it, can you give me a sense of what is happening, what people are talking about, what you're generally going through because of it... I have read that there are thousands feared dead, can that be true? Some one fill me in please...

Also, I read that gas might top $4/gallon? Is that really true? How much is it right now. And then that stampede in Baghdad that killed close to 1,000 people? Unimaginable. Plus all these airplane crashes recently, and flooding, and what not? Ladies and gentlement, boys and girls, is this the second coming? Is the world doomed? Rhetorical yet perhaps thought-provoking. Or not. Someone please let me know...

In my news, met the kids today, the elementaries...they are cute. More later..

Fire Drill

The weekend was rather uneventful. Drinking, singing, carousing with real Russians, Japanese, and English speakers. Some studying, shopping (finally a coffee maker and a DVD player, a godsend). But Monday contained the highlight of the month, probably. Ok, relax, sit back, grab a beer, think back to high school. Remember the fire drills, when the alarm would annoyingly go off, (either the fire department would pull it, or a prank, or someone trying to get out of class) (which in reality was a relief for most of us, got out of class etc., and being a teacher now, I can still say that proudly, even though its an immense headache if you’re taking a test or something to reschedule it, anyway, that’s a tangent). So, what would happen? Well, we’d all file out of the nearest exit, congregate outside for a little while, chat and what not, until the fire marshall came, declared that it had taken us 47 minutes to all leave the building and we’d all dutifully go right back in and resume the daily routine of school life, grateful for the tiny break away. I’d say that’s a pretty fair assessment of everyone’s experience, no? Ok, so last week I was told that this Monday there would be an “evacuation drill” here at school (the principal was quite excited by that word, evacuation, which he learned just for the occasion of telling me). So, with all my assumptions in place but cautiously aware that this is, after all, Japan, I went into Monday with modest expectations but ready for anything. And so it came…

When I showed up at 8:30, there were some fire engines and other official looking vehicles in the parking lot. The Hakui firemen were setting up a small tented area for some reason. So there was already a lot of activity and we were told to park somewhere far out back, on the lawn. Meanwhile, the students and the teachers were rehearsing for the annual sports festival (which is a grand big thing in itself, basically it is a full day of various sport activities, such as tug of war, etc. where the students and teachers compete, and the parents and community watches; it’s a big deal, it’s next week, I’ll write more later.) So, they were practicising. At around 9:30, they told me the drill would begin at 10:00. So, at ten, I was kind of hanging out by the front doors, waiting for my cues. So the kids all start running out, from various exits and I follow the gym teacher. Naturally, it turned out I was the last one to leave the building. Anyway, we all gathered by the baseball diamond and relaxed for a while. Everything was going as expected, until I noticed the overturned car in the parking lot. Yeah, they put a car on its side, because without this an earthquake simulation simply would not be authentic. Ok, I thought, I can deal with that. But, then I noticed, parked not too far away on the grass, a giant red rescue helicopter? Yes, a helicopter. Ok. Moving forward. Apparently they had instructed a few students and a teacher to stay behind in the building somewhere to have them be mock rescued. So, all these vehicles pull in and it starts to resemble a general disaster area. By the way, the tent was for all these higher-ups, which I guess included the chief of the fire department and some others. The head of the Board of Education was there as well. So all this activity is going on. A bunch of firemen go into the building and retrieve some students and lead them out, all authentic like, leaning on their shoulders and everything. Then, by the small river which runs along the school, a van pulls up, and out come – divers, all in their gear, all set to do a river rescue operation. Then put on their fins and dove in and dragged some guy out (I’m not really sure when he got in there), put him on a stretcher and into an ambulance. Then went back in to get another guy, who was pulled up on a stretcher that was suspended from a fire engine’s ladder. Ok, pretty cool. Then the helicopter starts to go, takes off and maneuvers itself on top of the school and a guy on a rope jumps out, lowers himself to the roof and picks up a student, gets lifted back onto the chopper and the chopper lands again on the field, where an ambulance pulls up and the guy gets transferred and the ambulance speeds away. OK, wonderful. The whole thing finished up with two fire trucks, with ladders extended, pouring massive amounts of water onto and into the school (I hope the windows were at least closed). Wow, it tool like one hour for the entire thing and it was pretty damn interesting to watch. At the end, all the rescue workers and what not lined up and were inspected by the boss, who then made a speech for like fifteen minutes. (In Japan, all speeches are at least that long, except of course mine; it takes an extremely long time to say extremely little – reference the “Lost in Translation” scene where Bill Murray is filming the whiskey commercial and direct translation takes place between him and the director and 2 minutes of speech is translated as “Please look to your left.”) After that, everyone just kind of went back into the building, the tent was disassembled, and normal routine life resumed, and of course, I had to resume along with it…Interesting little eventful morning.

Ok. School is actually starting this week, so pretty soon, there’ll be something here that’s actually somewhat relevant to a large reason of why I’m here. In the meanwhile, I’m planning my self-introduction lessons, in which I yet again talk about myself and show pictures and stuff. (Yes, my students will see many of you in your finest glory). Ok, that’s it for now. Take care.
P.S. In Japan, the standard pregnancy is considered to be 10 months, 10 days long. I was absolutely shocked by this fact and sat awestruck for like 15 minutes, pondering the whole nine month thing that has been bred into my since my own premature appearance into this world. Of course, no one at the office was the least bit concerned and went about their business; for them its 10 months, 10 days, period, no debate or nothing. Ponder that amongst yourselves.

Pictures

Hey, I got new pictures up. Its not much, and some of them are pretty bad, but at least its something. And I labeled them for a change. www.fotki.com/photomoose - look for me... I hope to post photos of my house soon...

Buzz, Buzz, Buzz

So, a brief outline of recent events. First, my haircut.Yeah, I needed one, pretty badly. I’m not sure how most of you in the states go about this procedure, but mine was pretty simple. I would casually stroll into a BoRics, or a Great Clips, or a Hair Cuttery, or what have you, sign in my name, take a seat, flip through the pages of a seven month old Home and Garden, and then be called by either a Russian or a Filipino woman over for a hair cut. I would inform her that I wanted the number three on the sides and the number four on top, and she would briskly proceed to operate the shaver and nick my hair off. A quick brush-up and I would be on my way, having paid $14 for the experience (including a $3 tip). The procedure, from walking into to the door to leaving would take perhaps 10 to 15 minutes, on a good day. Would I be happy with the haircut? Well, it would be ok. Would I be happy with the experience? Well, it would also be just ok, nothing special to speak of.

Enter the Japanese hair cut. Naturally enough, I could not be trusted to find the place myself, so I was guided along by the sweet office lady (every office in Japan has a woman who serves a variety of functions (i.e. making sure the coffee is made, making sure everyone has supplies, etc.)) We got to Hope’s Hair and upon walking in, all the employees were slightly awed by my size. I was immediately (and I mean immediately) shown to my chair and the thingy was placed around my torso. Then this lovely Japanese girl proceeded to shampoo my hair. Then the barber came by and I was trying to diligently explain what exactly I wanted (i.e. #3, #4) but in Japan, the system (naturally) is different; so it took a little while and a number of “haircut magazines” to finally figure out what I wanted. Out came the shaver and away went the hair at the sides. The top (which usually gets the shaver treatment as well) was meticulously cut with scissors. Ok, pretty fast, nice, and easy. Not much difference, and the hair looked ok. I was ready to stand, but then the man says, “Sheburu.” I’m like, what, and he’s like, “sheburu desu ka.” So, I figured, its best to agree and did so. Back comes the girl and begins to oil up my neck, ears, forehead, and then, drumroll, with a tiny razor (a real blade) shaved every available inch of my head that did not have head hair growing on it. Then I soaked in a hot towel for a while, and then she came back to shave my face. Then she clipped my friggin’ nose hairs. Then she shaved the inside of my ears. Oh, my, oh, my. The whole time, I couldn’t restrain my giggling, so she naturally couldn’t restrain hers, except I didn’t have no razor blade in my hand being applied to somebody’s friggin’ eyelids… but there were no casualties. After the shave and another hot soak, she put this thing on her hand (a big, spider looking thing) and it began to vibrate and she game me a head, neck, and shoulder massage (using her hand, which was vibrating). It was insane. Finally she finished, and I’m about to get up. But oh no, not without washing my hair, for the second time within the span of half an hour. Jesus, I have never felt so clean and well shaven and kempt in my life, ever… After a couple of bows and $32 later, I was on my way…thus is the Japanese way of hair cutting. (Again, maybe for some this is a typical procedure, but for me, the contrast between the first and the second paragraphs here should be evident…)

Later came the first night out in the local area. A bunch of us "Amerika-jins" went to this neighborhood spot called Rope, where the mama-san and the papa-san like having foreigners around and charge a ridicuously low price (i.e. 2000Y (~$20) for all you can drink all night, which included all sorts of snacks, etc; even the Japanese get charged around 3000 I think). So, the night got rolling pretty quickly, more mingling and getting to know the local Jet community, as well as some Japanese locals who were also having quite a good time. And then, lo and behold, enter the fact that it is a karaoke bar. The mikes come out and for the rest of the night, there was to be no peace, but continuous singing, usually a Japanese song followed by a Western one (as in any civilized society, we all take turns). Yes, even I sang, although it was the most painful atrocious experience to go through (not for me, naturally, I had a great time, but for those being forced to listen). And the song was? For all you inquiring minds? Yes, the song was Paradise City, by good ole G n' R. Here I thought that I knew the lines (basically a repetition of "Take me out to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty") but no, of course Axl had to add a bunch more, so that was cause of lots of stumbling. But, all in good fun. Anything becomes better with practice. Naturally enough, at closing time, we left and sang our way home through the rice paddies and the light of an almost full moon. Drinking on this particular night, with an early morning awakening necessity, was probably mistake number one for the weekend.

Ok, as objectively as possible, here is what happened next. 9:28 AM, train to Kanazawa station (45 minutes), followed by train to Fukui City (1 hr. 20 min). Brief meal of ramen noodles with pork. Meeting some strangers, a short walk to the bus, meeting more strangers. Getting on the bus, sitting in the back, conversing with fellow Ishikawaites. Multiple stops, some naps, one or two attempts to read, Japanese greenery swooshing by outside. Movies - yes, movies. Almost Famous, followed by School of Rock. Not enough space for feet, nursing a slight hangover. Finally, 8 hours later, arrival. 10:30 pm, exit the bus and the temperature is cool, not cold, not hot, but right there in the middle, I would say upper 50s. So, fleece is put on, hat, gloves prepared, a walking stick bought with some nice bells and a Japanese flag. Off in my Converse I go, first down a gravelly path. A short while later, the incline increases and the true climb begins. It is dark, it groes progressively colder and colder, I am out of layers, but I must keep climbing. One hour, two hours. Still going. Every few hundred meters, there are rest areas and squat toilets, and climbers relaxing. Must keep going. The air is becoming thin, smoking is out of the question, for breathing has become an endeavor unlike any other. And the path varies, steep walk along gravel, climb on jagged rocks, lean against wall for support, but we all keep moving, stopping, catching breath, glancing around, and moving on. Full moon, shining, making up for the dead batteries in the flashlight, which dies ten minutes into the whole thing. Higher and higher, the pain grows, and the questions soon start. Internal monologues that cannot be allowed to take place. To dull the pain and the questioning, I put on the IPOD, hoping that good old Kitaro will make a contribution to the whole thing making sense. Briefly, he seems to do the trick, but soon enough, I discover that it is not so. Up here, it is me, in the rawest form, and the elements of nature. The wind has become very strong, the ground is very far away, and the top is nowhere to be seen. Four hours, five hours, still climb, rest, climb, breathe. There it is, the top, those lights must be the top, there's a cottage up there, that's where I can finally sit, and take in the view, fully. Yes, yes almost there, just around this turn, and ... BOOM

Only 500 meters to go. And, on Fuji, 500 meters is two hours at least. The heart sinks, the lungs shrink, and I am knocked down by the question - WHY. Why am I putting myself through this, is it necessary. The pain and discomfort I am experiencing at this point is the worst I have ever had. Converse and rocks do not mix, there are brief flashes of impending death, as breathing requires immense and focused concentration. And I decided there, that it is a matter of principle, some indefinable principle that propels me forward, deceiving me into believing that I can reach the top. So I plow on... an hour an a half later, with the first glimpse of the dawn, the end looks near (in both senses of that word). But, unexpectdely, comes the Fuji traffic jam. The back up of people on the narrow path has increased so much that virtually no movement is possible. In three columns, the climbers slowly advance, a step here, a step there, but mostly waiting, breathing, trying not to get blown over by the wind or get the small particles of dust, sand, and rock not to end up in the wrong place. An hour goes by and we have covered barely any distance at all. And then, amid screams and shouts, the sun shows itself, above the clouds. Briefly, but fiery, it shines, but no warmth comes out. And what can wee see? Well, nothing. The clouds and mist hang over so thick, you can barely see fifty feet, much less, what is thousands of feet below. Well, there's a brief glimpse, wow. But to catch it on film is nearly impossible. So you keep moving, clinging to the hope that even if there is no view, at least you made it, you climbed Fujisan, the tallest mountain in Japan. It is freezing, and the bus leaves in four hours, while you are standing still 2 miles above ground. The principle fades, and you turn around. There has ceased to be a point, but you still have to make it back down, which in the end turns out to be more difficult, because the converse and the pain act in immense synergy. So, you wind your way around all the determined Japanese who absolutely must reach the top (the principle for them is much stronger), and finally, it clears up enough to see the ground. You look down, and its kilometers of zigzags back and forth, down the steep mountain path. It takes four hours and a walk half way around the mountain to make it back to the bus. It is 10:00 Am. The night has been spent in the cold, dark expanses of Fuji, Fuji which has beaten me and proven to itself that it is not conquerable by just anybody. Back on the bus, I can barely walk, I stretch out, and I sleep. The bus ride back lasts "fifteen minutes," with brief glimpses of Meet the Parents and Three Amigos in between. My body is crying, asking for some horizontal relief, and I cannot do it. Fukui, Kanazawa, Shio, warm bath, and sleep. As I fall asleep that night, I recall the furies of the mountain and I realize that now that its over, it probably was not that bad (a key realization for any event in life.) But at the same time, it was indeed the most trying physical and mental experience of my life to date. I never thought I would be able to get as far as I did, and even though as I write this, my body aches, and at the time I never thought I would say these words, the entire experience is, somehow, incomprehensibly, justifiable and worthwhile. Although the proverb that "A wise man climbs Fuji once, a fool twice" is definitely true. Let us all rest.

Informatica

I had my first (expensive, yet official) Japanese lesson with Fukuda-sensei. It was all the introductory stuff, but it seems like it will be a good thing, because I was actually speaking Japanese with here (and even though it was stuff like "I am Roman. I am from America. I teach English," it was nevertheless a good thing, not to mention the fact that I got to introduce David Beckam to Arnold Sczwh.....gger, and vice versa - pictures of them - which was a jolly good time). In addition, I have truly found at least one hobby for myself for the year - ping pong... I went with one of my teachers to her table tennis club and was just floored by the skill level. Here I had thought that I was ok, but it turns out, compared to these people (even the jr. high school girl I played against) I have no skills whatsoever. The lead guy, Oka-san, has been playing since his jr. high school days (he's now 47) and at one point was number 3 in the prefecture, which would put him in the top 150 players in Japan, not a bad accomplishment for a country big on the sport. Anyway, there's a tournament coming up in November, and I would like to compete, although I will have to train like mad before it comes up (practice twice a week, Wednesday and (ugh) Friday nights). I have to somehow buy shoes (yeah, ping pong shoes baby). I found a site in England that sells size 14 Adidas shoes, but I have not been able to find any elsewhere (any help here would be appreciated). Anyway, it is intense, and I am very excited.

Oh, a piece of pertinent news. Those of you wishing to visit Japan this or next year, I have a rough idea of when the best time for me would be...It should come as no surprise that the best times fall right around school breaks. Again, it is rough, and exact details will become available shortly.

Winter Vacation: December 23rd - January 9th (i.e. there are no classes, teachers still have to come to school, but I can take vacation days at this time) - At this point in time, I am considering a Southeast Asian vacation here (i.e. Thailand, China, Taiwan, Tibet, Hong Kong?????), but let me know if anyone is up for coming out during winter.

Spring Vacation: March 27th - April 4th (ideal time for people to come out)

Golden Week: May 1st - May 5th (technically, the whole week is not a vacation, but I can maybe weasel some time here)


There you have it...times other than those, I cannot guarantee my presence as a worthy tour guide (of course I will try my hardest, but after all I am a teacher, with a teacher's responsibilities and cannot just take vacation when there are classes in session - please understand that...)

Also, there is alread a confirmed visitor in mid-February as well as March 13-23rd is most likely taken as well...email me and we'll figure something out. I think there are at least three more groups (i.e. The Rosenbergs, the Millers/Birmans/Grinbergs/Airapetovas, and the Marchenko Clan, as well as Smazo/IAK also having expressed interest, and an SW tossed in there somewhere...(ooh, that's a risk isn't it, writing that one?)).


Ok, long enough. Let me know what's up...

A New Hope???

Just as we thought it was all going down, just as the world tumbled into mediocrity, just as the end seemed very near, a new hope emerged...now, perhaps we are saved...

Long live the man...

http://www.walken2008.com/


Out

Untitled

On the steep hill behind my house, slightly embedded in the tall woods, lies a tiny cemetery, perhaps no more than thirty graves, standing, living out eternity in death, surrounded by foliage and the incessant noise of insects, which in turn are striving to show their own existence any way they can, something that the graves can never truly do. The other day, I went for a bike ride, through the tiny streets that make up this rural village, through the rice paddies that consume any space that could otherwise be called empty. I am beginning to notice something about this place, and perhaps it is only my mind or perhaps it is no different from any other place, but there appears to be contentment here, everywhere I look. People are not striving for anything, but rather have accepted their station in life and have become completely pacified with the idea of living out their lives in accordance with very basic principles. Make an honest living, provide for a family, raise children according to the same principles, and generally view the world around as very simple, without complication. The greed that is so evident in other places and that I have encountered many a time may be here as well, but it is so well concealed that it almost has become irrelevant. It does not seem to be a driving force behind anything and in fact, if it were ever to show its face, it would probably be looked highly down upon.

As I rode through the paddies toward the hilly forest that borders the village, I noticed a tiny opening in the trees that lead to an archway and behind it, a tiny temple, tucked away neatly between the trees. I parked my bike to have a closer look. There did not seem to be anyone around and the shrine itself was not much to look at, in comparison to other shrines that are in Japan. It was quite old, but at the same time, kept meticulously clean. There was definitely something about it that attracted me and made me want to just sit on its steps for a while and think…about, for instance, the lives of the priests that had, inevitably, inhabited this shrine for quite a number of years. Here they were, seemingly removed from reality, living an isolated life, doing their own “business,” completely unconcerned with that which goes on around them. There is a lot to envy there, in that peace of mind which has severed almost all attachments, which usually, by definition, must bring sorrow as well as joy. And yet, with all those remarkable benefits, something pushed me away, pulled me back toward the lights, the crowds, life as most of us like to call it. Albeit the village I live in is not much in terms of that, but it nevertheless stands at a crossroads, with both paths and their destinations faintly evident. But soon it got dark, the rain picked up, and I had to make my way back to my abode.

Mood is everything. In its depth lies a continuity, but because mood changes so often, it is nearly impossible to grasp. But there are moments, as brief as the time between a hummingbird’s flaps, in which it stares at you and you feel it, literally to the bone. Sometimes, this is associated with goosebumps.

Buckets and buckets of rain, after all, that humidity has to mean something. Rain is quite amazing here because it never really rains continuously for long periods of time. Rather, you have a lot at once, then a period of relative calm, than short bursts of rapid rain, followed by a light drizzle, followed by a steady stream, followed by sunshine, followed by buckets once again, an endless repetition but never in the same way. Sometimes, rain depresses me, but at others, it is a marvelous thing to observe, because after all, it is the nourishment of the earth, our mother, which keeps us alive. Perhaps I will get into haiku, which is all about unity with nature, about relating the pure and uncorrupted all around us to the human experience. No matter what anyone says, or what you see on the news, or what your strongest beliefs are, life’s secret is a beautiful one…

Until it all comes crashing down.
Forgive me, but I had some things to get off my chest, some beautiful feelings to share. The moon is shining tonight, but faintly, through a veil of clouds. I want to know what it is telling us?

Swamp Song

Having been away for an exhausting four days, I returned home yesterday morning and got my first true taste of isolation. Last Wednesday, I left for Kanazawa for a three day orientation. It was useful for a variety of reasons, such as getting to know other new Jets from this Prefecture, getting practical information about living in these environs, and a myriad other orientation like things that usually accompany something like this. Naturally enough, whenever the human mind is bombarded with such an overload of information, its chances of retention are quite slim, and right now I feel like I remember 5% of everything that I learned, but I wrote a lot of crap down, so it may come in handy someday. In terms of what actually happened in Kanazawa, there wasn’t particularly much of interest. Wednesday night, the evening’s entertainment consisted of a pub quiz, with a pre-arranged konbini run that secured all of us that treasured beverage… After that, since the place we were staying had an 11:00 lockdown, we all piled into a tiny hotel room (read, like 25 or so people) and hung out, chatting, cavorting, some even going further (I, naturally enough, was not a part of this group). In the morning, it was quite difficult to wake up, but after a Japanese breakfast (yeah baby, rice, miso, salmon, tea, coffee, and unnameable vegetables) the day got off to a good start.

Two highlights of Thursday. The first, which anywhere else would be purely straightforward and uninteresting but in Japan was quite enjoyable, was getting a keitai (i.e. cell phone). Like eighteen of us gaijin (i.e. foreigner) piled into the Vodafone store and besieged the poor Japanese employees, who behind their smiles were absolutely terrified. Then it was picking (a rather large selection) and then the plans (which are vastly different from American plans – i.e. the whole 600 min/month, free nights and weekends is unheard of here; its more like 65 minutes a month but a crapload of text and email messages – its strange but people don’t really talk on the phone here but send constant emails). And then the signing up. We had to write our addresses in kanji, and of course no one really knew how, so the whole thing ended up taking like four hours, literally. But I do have a keitai now…it has a t.v., a radio, a 2.0 megapixel video and photo camera, a motion sensor (i.e. you play games on the phone such as golf by moving the actual phone to swing), and a bunch of other goodies I have yet to figure out…

Secondly, I got to hang out with Sergey, who is a pure bred Russian, from Irkutsk and speaks fluent Japanese. First we went to a ramen bar and had some amazing ramen with gyoza and edamame (and its not the stuff you pour hot water over either, it was good stuff). Then we went to Apre, this bar that specifically caters to foreigners (it was really interesting to walk into this place and completely forget you’re in Japan, except of course for the Japanese staff). They played really good music from like the late 90s. We met up with Katya there, another bona fide Russian, also from Irkutsk, studying at a university here. We spent some pleasant time together, and it was really good to practice my Russian… On the way home, we walked through the samurai district of Kanazawa, which is a few streets that, by ordinance, have not really changed for like one hundred years. It was awesome; felt like walking through 18th century Japan, with the old fashioned houses, cobblestone roads, etc. (Of course, my not-so-intelligent self forgot my camera and was not yet keen enough to use the one on my phone, so I don’t have pictures from the weekend, but I’m sure I’ll go back to this area). Overall, a good day.

On Friday, nothing much happened, except we finally had some training about our actual jobs, about what we’re actually supposed to do, how we’re supposed to teach English to a bunch of Japanese kids, many of whom have absolutely no interest in it. It got me quite excited about my job, about trying to teach a foreign language. At night, we went out to a kaiten sushi place (conveyor belt sushi) where, for like $25 I had some great sushi that would have cost an arm and a leg in the states. The next day was full of walking, so much walking that my legs were close to simply falling off. We went to Yamada Denki, a large electronics store, in part just to have a look and in part to make some purchases. It was absolutely insane, largely due to the loud, annoying theme song that kept playing over and over and over etc. again. Lots of cool stuff and gadgetry, but I wasn’t all that impressed at all, largely because a lot of it I couldn’t understand. I mean, I could get the general idea, but as to the differences between the 3,234 models of mp3 players, I wouldn’t know one slight bit. After we dropped by a sporting goods store, where I bought the largest pair of shorts in the place, and boy was it squishy… Oh yeah, for lunch, we were walking along kind of an industrial big street (so not a lot of places to eat) but we randomly found this one nice-looking restaurant. We walked in, lured by the potential promise of a meal for 980Y (about $9.80). We sat, were served tea, and opened the menus, only to find out that that was the lunch special from 12:00-2:00 on Saturday and the next thing on the menu cost like 2300Y, which wasn’t our idea of lunch. After some deliberation, we decided to leave (as Americans, Russians, and all are apt to do, but we weren’t sure how it was in Japan). On our way, however, the nice waitress stopped us and after awkwardly explaining our situation, she assured us that we could have the 980 price. Lo and behold, we had an amazing sampling of sashimi which in the states would have cost around $50 and included in it (it is unconfirmed however) something that highly resembled whale semen (not that I would know of course, but if I was asked to describe it, that is exactly what I would say). Great Lunch all in all.

That night was the JET welcome beach bash, on the beach in Uchinada, a small beach town just north of Kanazawa. There was a bar right on the beach, and hammocks, and food, and of course, the Sea of Japan, where the water was absolutely gorgeous (we’re in the midst of three week swimming season, before the armies of jellyfish come out). So there was much merriment and a great mix of people. (Jets, Novas (which is another company that hires foreigners to teach English, Brazilians (of whom there’s apparently very many in Japan), and of course Japanese). Biiru and sake flowing, punk rock bands on the stage, a half-pipe on the beach, and a continual barrage of fireworks (which are legal here and absolutely fascinating to the Japanese). We spent a good eight hours just partying, swimming relaxing, etc. and then a tiring walk to yet another futon to crash on. (The Jet community is great because people let others crash at their houses all the time, but I wouldn’t want that happening to me – which makes me lucky, because not many people would want to travel out to the boonies to see me)
The next half day was atrocious. I must have smelled like a really old egg that had been floating down sewage pipes for a few weeks before ending up at the slaughterhouse. When I got home, it was the best shower I’ve had in the remembarable past. Actually, on Sunday, was the first time I really got a taste of life in the inaka (i.e. countryside). I spent the whole day just organizing things, reading, relaxing, figuring stuff out, and not uttering a single word to anybody. It’s a state of mind that can either drive one absolutely mad or be conducive to a productive mental and physical activity. It’s too early to tell yet, but I will keep all posted. (I did get as far as Lt. Mamiya’s Long Story, Part I, for those in the know). Actually, this is a topic I will return to when I feel more capable of reflection than right now. Work took a lot out of me today (there was virtually in the office – it is Obon, the time of the year when the Japanese go home to their families and spend time together, paying homage to ancestors, etc.) So I had to find amusement for myself for a while. But the highlight of the day, bar none, was driving. Yes, on the left side of the road, on the right side of the car. It was a truly strange feeling. The difficult part is not so much keeping to the proper sides of the road as keeping straight in your lane. Unless I was paying careful attention to what I was doing, I would always have a tendency to continuously inch to the left (because while I am driving, I am used to being on the left side of the lane, and here you have to keep to the right, naturally). But I think I will get used to it quite quickly – and come to think of it, it was quite fun, making left turns as if they were right turns…

Anyway, I watched Day of the Jackal today and its time for bed, it being past twelve and all. Still don’t have internet at home, unfortunately, but it will hopefully soon come. (This is written in Word and then copied and pasted later). Ok, boys and girls, that’s all for now. Forgive the quotidian nature of the post, but that’s how life has been lately. What’s new with y’all? Out.