Kenka Matsuri (fighting festival)

Pictures

Video 1
Video 2
Video 3

Hunting for Ayu (sweetfish)

Video

Pictures

I have too much cake.

I have far more cake, in fact, then I really want to eat. But to give away or dispose of the cake would violate the spirit in which it was given. I suppose worse problems have been had than having cake and eating it too.

Busy.

Got the job with JET, but I'm not sure whether I'll accept or stay with my current gig.

Some raw pictures from Kyoto and assorted places

A video I took

Another video I took

And so on...

The last few weeks have been pretty dull, but Spring is finally in the air and with it, the cherry blossoms are starting to bloom. Hopefully I'll find a nice place to take some pictures soon.

In the meantime, I've started (yet) another website: http://easyjapanesey.blogspot.com/ -- this one is geared toward learning Japanese vocabulary.

Please don't comment on that site unless you are seriously studying the Japanese language.

Do not eat the processed cheese.

The other day I was teaching from the many pictures I took during my brief visit to the states. Scratch that. I taught from those pictures for a solid two weeks (and there are five students who have yet to ingest that lesson). I was pretty jet lagged when I returned, so I was grateful not to have to devote any mental energy (or any energy really) to my lessons. What's interesting to me is that though I often feel guilty straying from the standard methods of textbook driven language injections, the students seem to enjoy the book-less classes the most. And they're paying for the classes so you figure they want to learn, but perhaps learning English isn't so much a hobby as it is an hour or so of reasonably priced entertainment starring yours truly.

So anyway, the other day I was teaching a particular student from the many pictures I took, and she stumbled over the word burrito.

"Burrito," I said.

"Booreedo?" she asked.

"Burr-ee-toe," I said.

"Ehh... Boo... Booree... Booreetonee Spears?"

One of my most difficult tasks in school is assuring my students that they are hilarious and I'm not laughing myself a ruptured abdomen at their expense. Another native (non-student) had some trouble with a prostitute, that is to say, she couldn't say it. Instead, she would say, "Processed cheese." There's a stunning array of similarities between the two.

In my quest to speak Japanese, I am not without a few (thousand) stumbles, myself. The word for "ride" and the word for "drink" differ by a letter. Thus, I told my friend I would like to ride some hot chocolate. Thankfully, no metaphors translate as they might in English.

When I leave work at night, I turn left and walk home. Last week, one of my students asked me for drinks, but I was busy so we went yesterday instead. This particular student is in his 50s and could easily pass for a yakuza (mafia) boss. On this particular night, we turned right. To the right is the seedier part of town.

We visited two not-too-scandalous establishments and I went home none the worse for wear, save for a varied and spirited gathering in my liver, whisky making a rare appearance as the guest of honor. When I spoke to some of my students about my evening, they told me what else I might find out that-a-ways. For example, at certain kinds of clubs called kabakura (cabaret meets club), "You can touch them."

"Ehh? That's legal?"

"Yeah. No sex, but you can touch them."

Uh huh. And then there's Soapland. At Soapland, "They will wash you."

"What?!"

"If you go to the bathroom, they can wash you."

"I can wash myself, probably much more cheaply... just the cost of some water and soap."

"Yeah, but they're really good at it."

PS. Interview went well.

Crappy Valentines Day

Why oh why does my JET interview have to be during the week of Valentine's Day? Japanese Valentine's Day is almost important enough for me to consider skipping my trip home altogether. Almost.

Japanese Valentine's Day is not American Valentine's Day for two main reasons: 1) Women give to men and not vice versa (sentiments are returned one month later on White Day); 2) "giri-choco," quite possibly the best concept ever. Basically this translates to "obligatory chocolate." Obligatory chocolate is given to bosses, friends, some co-workers, etc. As a teacher, I would ordinarily make out like a bandit. Alas. Thankfully today, my (new most absolutely favoritist) student brought me some giro-choco: box, chocolate.

Anywho, if you didn't already know, I'm coming home for one week and will be busy as all get-out. If you have any requests for stuff to bring back from Japan, better speak up soon... plane leaves Sunday.

PS. The Yomiuri posted several letters to the editor in response to the original one. They were all off topic, infuriatingly ignorant, stupid replies (not to mention that every one, without exception, misspelled the original author's name). I now understand that the editors for this section in this particular paper choose to appeal to those with the intellects of children and other small mammals. My response went over my advanced class students' collective heads as well. Frustrating.

Update: I don't live in Hokkaido -- sorry, can't get chocolate-covered potato chips.

Letter to the Editor (aka "Kickin' Jerks")

The first thing I do every morning at school is read the English version of the Daily Yomiuri newspaper. (Technically, I read the first few pages, then do the crossword, then read the rest.) Unfortunately, this means I am regularly subjected to the sheer idiocy of those English-speakers who try to take advantage of the soap box that is the Letters to the Editor section. Last week, I could barely choke down the reactionary rhetoric posed by one misguided reader (easily google-able), so I felt obliged to respond. So long as I'm living here, I refuse to let a bunch of loose-lipped, know-nothings tarnish the image of foreigners as a whole. That's right, I'm-a kick me some jerks. I'm posting both his letter (without permission) and my response... I imagine that since my readership numbers in the teens no one will raise a fuss. Will let you know if I get published.

Idiot's commentary:

Prejudice inappropriate in English-language paper

When I open my copy of The Daily Yomiuri and read headlines such as “Govt to help local govts burdened by foreigners” (Jan. 9, Page 2) and “Foreigners filling nation’s jails” (Jan. 24, Page 3), I truly wonder what inconvenience and liability members of my community will be accused of next.

Overtaxing immigration and customs officials by requesting passports be stamped and bags checked on arrival and departure? Robbing local citizens of seats on public transport? Depleting natural resources by breathing and washing ourselves?

The fact that the original articles come from your parent publication is worrisome enough, given that such headlines only fuel prejudices among the Japanese readership about their international population. However, reminding the “burdensome” community (temporary or permanent) through the pages of your English-language publication of the problems they are causing is another matter. Try and think of the impact these poorly framed pieces have on those who have been invited and encouraged to come to Japan as resources and not liabilities.

“Yokoso!” indeed. [Fareasticarus editor's note... "Yokoso" means "Welcome" in Japanese]

Anthony Crooks
Sendai

My response:

Call for censorship inappropriate in letter to the editor

This letter is in response Anthony Crook’s February 1, 2007 Letter to the Editor entitled “Prejudice inappropriate in English-language paper,” in which he contended that the Yomiuri unfairly characterizes foreigners living in Japan as onerous to Japanese society.

Though the articles in question may have exhibited foreigners in a bad light, it makes the issues no less newsworthy. Prisons overcrowded with foreigners and government policies concerning non-citizens are not only interesting topics that deserve media attention, but they are also problems faced and discussed by other members of the international community.

It is the responsibility of the free press to print objective, factual news. The decision of what might be deemed newsworthy must depend heavily on the readership, as a newspaper is a business and must cater to its customers. In this situation, I do not think The Daily Yomiuri failed in either regard. Furthermore, though the reader identified two articles that may mar the image of foreigners, there have been many articles to the contrary as well.

That the reader is a seemingly good-willed ambassador is commendable, but it’s important to realize that foreigners were not invited by Japan as a whole. For the most part, each of us was selected by an individual organization for an individual purpose, and not all natives welcome foreigners with open arms.

It’s up to us to try to make a good impression during our tenure in Japan. Requesting that the newspaper sporting the largest circulation in Japan engage in censorship is not only counterproductive, but that also itself sheds us in the worst of lights. It is a testament to the dignity of the Yomiuri that the original letter was printed at all.

[My name here]
Himeji

I'm fucking tired, man!!!

Sloth has a slew of problems, some of which are both severe and medicated. She takes no fewer than 24 pills a day to keep her mood in check. She doesn't have a job, she drinks every day, and the managers need to call her an hour before class to make sure she wakes up. (Note: She lives with her parents directly across the street.) As such, I feel terrible identifying her as Sloth, despite her resemblance to her Goonies counterpart, so I will no longer continue to do so.

However, though I feel sorry for Garlic Breath, I've also had to suffer my share of abuses, so she doesn't get a free ride, no way, no how. (One time her breath was so bad that the managers asked her from then on not to eat garlic one day before her lessons -- Garlic Breath threatened to quit and that was the end of that.) At the Christmas party, I played the role of MC and handed out presents for the bingo game. When she won, she, like everyone else, walked up with a big smile and happily accepted her bounty. Unlike everyone else, she grabbed my arm, pulling me off balance, and planted a bubonic kiss on my cheek before I knew what hit me. I immediately stabbed her in the eye with a chopstick. In my mind.

Today we had an observer in her group class. Prospective students often sit in on classes before they commit to paying for a full session. Just before we began, I heard the managers tell Garlic Breath that such an observer would be there, a deterrent that went unheard. First I did some Q&A with the newcomer and learned that she is a pious sort, studying the bible every day, going to church every weekend. A mental "gross mismatch" warning flashed steadily brighter. Then I went around the class asking how people were, what was going on, etc. Finally, biting my lip, I got to Garlic Breath.

"So, Garlic Breath, how are you today?" I asked. Her response was laced with a maniacal enthusiasm that only her bipolar peak could provide.

"I'm fucking good, man!!!"

"Ahhh... you know, we don't really say that."

"I'm fucking good?"

"Yeah, uh... we say 'I'm good.' Or 'I'm good, man' is ok."

"Oh, really. I learned it in a movie!"

"Ok, well... good! I'm glad you're practicing," I said, noticing that she had jotted down a few other notes as well ('radical,' 'tubular,' and 'gnarly' among them). "So... how are you?"

"I'm fucking good, man!!!"

Sweet creamy beans, Batman... I think I just ate a stick of butter!

One of the managers gave me a wrapped bun and said one of the students brought it in: "Very delicious!" Students bring food in all the time and 9/10 times her analysis proves correct. Sometimes it's potato-chips covered in chocolate (a Hokkaido staple, incredibly awesome). Sometimes its chocolate with hot-pepper cream filling (a little spicy, but surprisingly good). Sometimes it's wasabi anything (I believe they've exhausted all edible permutations). Frequently it's some sort of bread with something inside (cream, sweet beans, sweet creamy beans, etc). This time I think that thing was butter. Prepare the doodie fun slide!

More photos...

One of my student's calligraphy exhibitions along with most of our class and one student's mother: http://www.bunker89.com/japan/novelclass

Traditional New Year's fare at my friend's house: http://www.bunker89.com/japan/osechi

A park full of mini- and life-sized replicas of major international landmarks:
http://www.bunker89.com/japan/taiyo

A trip to the Osaka aquarium (yes, I dig the jellyfish), a festival in Nara, and various Nara sites: http://www.bunker89.com/japan/naraosaka

My students have diarrhea and I know it.

One day, as I was regularly tempting lady luck by asking my students various questions about their weekends, one volunteered a most interesting tidbit: "I had diarrhea yesterday." The mere shock of hearing this 40-some-year-old man admit to me the intimate details of the state of his innards almost gave me an instant case of some serious mud-butt, myself.

"Oh," I said, and risked a quick glance around the room to search for well-masked smirks or silent snickering. Nothing. "Um... how are you feeling today?"

"I feel good today, thank you," he said, and then launched into a perfectly normal tale about about his trip to a shrine with his daughter, wife, and liquidy bowels. "That's lovely," I said, and then thanked him, as I usually do, when a student endeavors to share.

So this guy isn't the most normal guy I've met and, by no strange coincidence, he works for a company that produces the pump that goes inside a toilet. He also regularly does aerobics, which isn't that abnormal, except... it really is. There's a lot of machismo in Japanese society, and he's a few testicles shy of a Chuck Norris.

Though that was the first time, it certainly wasn't the last, and when one of my most advanced students offered up the same in a group class of five women, four out of five of whom are teachers, four our of five of whom are fairly reserved (she among them), I decided to risk embarrassment (for them and for me), and pose the necessary question. I felt my face begin to flush, but I had reached the point of no return, there was no turding back (ha!).

"So I noticed in some of my other classes that students are often willing to share when they have... um... diarrhea. Is that normal in Japan?" She looked confused, as if I had asked an American, "Do students really ride big yellow school buses to school?" (They don't in Japan.) I explained that that sort of thing is generally a private issue, often embarrassing for Americans to talk about. "Oh interesting," she said. "We just think of it as a symptom." Which makes some sense, but I can think of many other symptoms not worth sharing. Then one of the other students said that though we Americans may keep our bathroom happenings to ourselves, they equally shocked by American's frank openness about sex. Touche, except this wasn't so much a cultural difference as it was a personal one.

There's a coffee shop I often visit with some rather entertaining characters, one of whom let me in on this not-so-secret personal detail [bracketed text in Japanese]: "I am shick."

I assumed I knew what he meant, but I decided to play dumb. "I'm sorry?"

"I have... pink aura."

I quickly appreciated my efforts at feigning ignorance. "Pink aura?"

"I am [very perverted]." Those words, of course, I knew. How this guy who can barely communicate in sentences longer than three words came up with "pink aura" I will never know.

"[I'm number one pervert]," he went on. "[No, I'm in the top five. She's number one]," he said, pointing to one of his rather shy co-workers.

"[What?!]"

He then said that he'd lend me a sample of his huge manga (comic) collection, full of perverted stories about who knows what. Actually, *I* know what. A friend of mine and I were browsing through a new book/comic/music/video store (called "The Something Store" in typically poor Japanese English) that opened up last month , and I had to do a double-take as I saw one of the manga titles: "The Rape Man" (title in English, content in Japanese, as are all local manga). The whole aisle was filled with titles like that one. I've been in other bookstores where men have been not only ogling, but also standing in the middle of the store, reading these works unabashedly. Many read them on the train as well, though so far I've only seen your run-of-the-mill manga as opposed to the perverted variety. But you'd think these guys would buy them, take them home and, I don't know, explore some other symptom. And then tell me about it in class.

Anyway, work #2's been a pain lately, but hopefully things will settle down soon. I'll try to catch up on emails and post pictures this week.

A small, small world

There are a series of optional English language proficiency tests available to any native Japanese to achieve a sort of English language certification. I teach Step 1 (the most advanced, akin to the SAT English section) to one of my students, and I was just commenting today how relevant and timely some of the reading passages are. There was a passage about a disputed "country" off the coast of England that was in our last practice test. I just read in the paper that it's up for sale.

But today, surprise of all surprises, I was taking a practice test when I came upon a passage named "The Quarterlife Crisis." No way, I thought. Sure enough, it's a passage about none other than "Quarterlife Crisis: The Unique Challenges of Life in your Twenties, by Alexandra Robbins and some know-nothing ass-clown" (available at an online retailer near you). One word: sugoi.