Sunday, September 30, 2007

Yo's, Fro's, and Potatoes

If today were a picture, it'd be in the dictionary beside the word "random".

So I wake up around 11:30 - a customary time for a Saturday rousing back home, but almost unheard of for me here - and begin my day with a healthy mix of TV, cereal and, and emails. Whilst online, I learn that a friend of mine in a neighbouring city who hasn't been feeling all that well for the last little while has shown no signs of improvement. And in the most snap of moments, I decide an action plan for the day.

I tell her, "brb" via AIM as though I'm going to do my laundry or some such, hop into the shower, dress, and quickly prepare of an emergency sick kit complete with Buckley's, Tylenol, and the movie 300. Faster than lightening to Emerald City, I'm on an express train to five minute away-town (amen, express train). I get off the train, and immediately see one of my students waiting by the station. I small talk with her for a bit, learning that she had a band practice today (Bear in mind that this is Saturday noontime, still), and asking her for advice on where to get some O.J. I was directed to the grocery store just behind the station, so in I went.

Imagine my surprise when I learn that the lady behind the counter is none other than one of the lunch ladies @ my base school. She's an awesome lady - I teach her a new word or two in English every time I see her. We both exclaim in Japanese @ one another and then strike up a conversation. I eventually get my O.J. and while checking out she tells me that there's a festival that day from two to six. I politely inform her that I don't know if I'll be in town that long but that I'll try nonetheless, and with that, I take my leave.

I finally make it to the house in question and we proceed to play a few games of Risk. The sounds of drumming and chanting and loudspeakers soon filled the house, and we both decided that we simply had to head down and check it out for ourselves. Thus, we struck towards the road going towards town - which was usually deserted - and came upon a filled thoroughfare of moving shrines and people. And it seemed as though all eyes within sight immediately fell upon us as we turned the corner. Nerts.

Winding through the crowd, my friend and I encountered a number of our students here and there, who seemed to get a big kick out of saying "hello", then running off giggling. Some of hers, some of mine... And it was while taking a breather from the kids on the sidelines that the coolest thing of the day (@ least for me) happened:
So we're watching the events unfold while leaning on a house, my friend and I are, when an elderly gentleman standing with his wife made what I can only describe as a, "Oh", and pointed at my friend’s OJ in her pocket. After several points, she took it out so as to display it, and following a quick scrutiny, he seemed satisfied, which we gathered from another "Oh". But oh, no, it didn't end there. He then made another "Oh" and then, with sheer curiosity in his eye, he walked forward and proceeded to pat my head. Needless to say, this was probably one of the most unlikely things that I could have imagined to happen at this point in time and space, so I could do nothing but freeze and ask myself, "Is this really happening". A few pats and he seemed content with his pseudo-afro contact; he returned to where he was standing and continued to watch the festival. Now, in retrospect, I know that this sort of thing was bound to happen and also that he was simply curious, but at the time, it's one of those moments when you have absolutely no idea what to make of what's going on, and WTF flashes brightly like a neon billboard across your mind. My stupefaction now over, I shook it off with a laugh, and went on watching the thoroughfare.

While watching a few more dances, I hear my name called – a surprise in a small town like Koge that someone would know my name – and a lady whom I'd met a few weeks prior calls me over. As it turns out, she and her family lives on this little street that I often walk down, and she invited my friend and I to watch the activities from in front of her house, which we happily accepted.

When everything was winding down, the lady invited us to gather potatoes that she'd planted in a nearby field. Next thing I know I'm standing in between rice paddies trudging through waist-high foliage to get at sweet potatoes buried in the ground. And these are big badboys, mind you, probably as big as my foot. After bringing in the harvest, and herding the cattle and raising a barn (no, those last two didn’t happen), they gave us a bag full of sweet potatoes, eggplant, and cucumbers to say thanks. My floored friend and I could only sheepishly say thanks ceaselessly for several minutes.

Deciding that this was enough excitement for one day, we high-tailed it home for dinner (of potatoes, eggplant, and cucumber, of course), and then I back to Tottori. Granted, all and all, this could actually be considered a fairly normal Saturday in Japan; it certainly wasn't what I was expecting when I just had it in mind to drop by a friend’s place to deliver some medicine.

Friday, September 28, 2007

Watching Football in Japan

After watching two NFL games here in Japan, I've concluded that it's way, way, way, (repeat ad nauseum), way better to watch football while in Japan than in America or Canada.
(Note: This applies to me because I've actually seen it. Your results may vary)

Reasons?
1) No commercials. At all. Back home you probably watch more from Molson and the latest new movie than you do action from the line of scrimmage. A kickoff is received? Commercial. A timeout is called? Commercial. Someone stubs their toe? Commercial. Quarter end? Commercial. Half end? LONG commercials. Needless to say, a game that has 60 minutes of play time will run at least three hours. Due in part to so many bloody commercials. Here you get the constant action of continually watching football, which is what the game is all about. It becomes that much more fast-paced, which is one thing my ex-wives would continually point out was lacking in football and why they didn't want to watch.
2) Plays follow one another without delay. So after a down, there's usually 40 seconds in which a play is decided and then they line up and go. Here, as soon as a down is done, it cuts right to the next play within about ten seconds. See "fast-paced action" splurge above. As a result, two minutes in the game actually elaspse in two minutes of realtime as opposed to ten in the West.
3) Instant replay. While this happens out in the West as well, when a down ends here, not three seconds pass before the instant replay (usually from at least two different angles) shows you the main action as well as things you may have missed that happened near the sidelines or something. It's like watching the same movie three times frrom three different angles simultaneously.
4) Japanese announcers. This may seem like an odd one, but sometimes the announcers back home would just annoy with useless information or obvious observations. It's like a director's commentary in which they just tell you what the character is physically doing all movie. Here, I've developed the ability to tune out Japanese if need be, so I can watch the game as though no one's talking.
5) Various/Numerous days. The Sunday/Monday rule is out the window here. A game will come on Wednesday, a same will come on Tuesday. Whenever they feel like it. AND (perhaps the best part) there is usually more than one game on during a given week. I think that they show every game that happens during Sunday or Monday - or at least as many of them as possible - over the period of several days during the week. Result? If you like two or three teams, you can watch them all play and not just get the scores on Sportsdesk that night.
Also, during football season, those of us who like it like it a lot. Therefore, this really caters to us that you can come home any night of the week and turn on the game. Great post-work stress relief.

Therefore, for these reasons and many more, I like watching football in Japan.

(Retrospect: After reading this, it sounds like a report that I make my kids do about why they like ~. Haven't done one of these in years. Welcome back grade 3.)

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

There and Back Again: A JET's Weekend Tale

So THIS weekend, I visited Magda, a friend of mine from Mac who lives on the other side of the country - think across rather than up to down. But I've become lazy already in my writings, so I'll just post pictures aplenty. They're from Himeji (Castle and gardens), Kobe (Chinatown and buildings), and Akashi - the city in between. Enjoy!











Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Ooooooooooooooooosaka

So this weekend, we did up Osaka, we did we did. I think that the original motivation for going was to catch a venerated Japanese baseball game, which are legendary in their own right, however we were too late to secure tickets. In any event, the wheels being in motion as they were, we still thought it a worthwhile endeavour to mission to Japan's second largest city, so off and away we went.

Woke up late. Again. So missed proper breakfast at the coffee shop. Had to settle for
McDonalds at the station 'cause it was right there (For the record this was only my second mission to Mickey D's in as many weeks, and my first out of necessity). Met up with Ayden, Kathleen, and Daniel along the way, and then the rest (Michelle, Michelle, Stephanie, and Meredith) at the bus stop. Due to the way we got tickets, (Michelle) Heath had to catch a bus right after us, and the rest of us traveled boarded another bus immediately.

Three sleep-filled hours later – and passing some of the most scenic views in Japan, I think – our arrival into Osaka brought back memories of winding through Tokyo: Sprawling metropolis as far as you can see. We had to wait for Heath, so we spent the time moving about the underground around the station. It was so big that you could have walked for miles without ever having to go outside. And the food that they had display... I tell you, if the restaurants, bakeries, and coffee shops in that place could be anthropomorphized, it'd be that well-build, scantily-clad foxy that gives you "the wink" as you pass by with your significant other on your arm.

In any event, when we met up with Heath, we caved and bought several yummies for lunch and ate them in an open square while observing break dancers and speed-ridden toddlers. Next was off to the hostel, which was a mission and a half because both of our cab drivers didn't know where it was, so there were several conferences with maps and asking gas station attendants and retracing our steps before we finally arrived at the place.


It was my first hostel, and I can say that I started off right. The place was really well-maintained and impressively furnished with TVs, stereos, computers, full kitchens, patios, etc. Definitely good for our money's worth, methinks. We met the owner, (One COOL cat), and chatted him up for awhile, especially Daniel. He was a tall, dark chap from Brazil who's been here a good five, six years on a stopover and just never left. He told us about all the countries he's been (Over 60 he said), and about his upcoming tour around South America, for which he's having his car shipped over. He also has a son who was the coolest thing since sliced bread, and speaks both English and Japanese.

After setting everything down, we headed off to the bar. Keep in mind it was almost 7, and we were meeting up with some Kiwis (New Zealanders) at a New Zealander bar to watch the All Blacks do their thing. We had an awesome tour through the shopping districts of Osaka, replete with their eccentric and fantastic fashion senses, but soon found that we were quite lost after 45 minutes of meandering. We soon discovered that we had long since pasted where we needed to be, and backtracked almost to where we started to get into the bar.
Didn't especially pay attention to the game, but had a great time mingling with the Kiwis, NOVAns, and JETs. Around this time is when Jessica graced with her presence. Jessica is friend whom I've known since my first year at university. We lived in the same residence together. I was very pleas when I found out that she decided to come to Japan as well, and relished this first opportunity to meet up with one of my friends from back home.

After many hours of "catching up" (drinking), Daniel, Jessica, Ayden, and I decided to hit another bar. We did for a bit, but we were all tired, so we headed out. I walked Jessica home, and told the guys I'd be back in about 15 minutes. Big mistake. Not correctly judging distances, I returned to the bar around 3:30 to find it still open, but my friends long. Therefore, my situation as I read it then was this: Here be I, Raymond Levy, alone in one of the biggest cities in the world, at 3:45 AM my first time being here, and I now have to get back to my hostel, alone. It's worth noting that it took about 25 minutes to walk from the bar to the hostel, so the task ahead of me was rather daunting. Due to my uncanny self-contained GPS, I in fact did manage to get back without so much as a wrong turn

The next day, we just went shopping, this way and that. None too exciting to report, expect that some stores' prices in Osaka are about 50% more than home and some are about 50% less. So your eyes are popping no matter where you go. Also noteworthy is the appearance of Erica. Had to give special mention.
That night, some stayed in as they were über-tired (And I don't blame them), and some made it out. I met up with Jess again along with Daniel, Erica, and a British dude named Leslie (I think) at a reggae bar. They had something called Jamaican beer, which I thought was Red Stripe, though the server never heard of Red Stripe. Turned out to be a weird kind of mix between beer and pop. Jess and I hightailed it outta there in favour of Triangle Park. Triangle Park is this small park area that conveniently has a convenience store right beside it. The idea is to buy drinks there for 200 (about $2 CDN) apiece and drink them in the park. As the park is often comprised primarily of foreigners, it's just like being at a bar on the patio. Just without tipping a server. And without bathrooms. And with homeless people intermingled. We met up with Ayden and a few of his mates here and had a few rounds. Then it was decided that Jessica and I would join her NOVA friends in doing up a club.

First club was deserted, so then we tried a second.
...

...
...
I can't exactly describe the mayhem of the inside of this place. Like the Matrix, you've got to see it for yourself. All I'll say is that the closest I can describe of the dance floor was a mosh pit. Bear in mind that R&B and hip hop and all the club anthems were playing. And everyone's looking at me as though I should instinctively know what to do with this sort of music, however I couldn't stand in one spot without being shoved in the mosh, let alone try to dance. Declaring it anarchy, I wasn't on there more than two minutes before I ran for the hills. Worst part is that we had to try to get back on there to tell her friends that we were leaving, and it was almost as bad as the first time. Thankfully she didn't get swallowed up in the madness, which happened to her friends when I first when on the floor with them. We got on together and the next I saw of them was a good hour later.

I walked Jess home around the same time as the previous night, and had to do the same trek home again at almost the same time. Only difference is that I got wise, wrote down the password for the lobby door, and had Ayden leave me a key in Daniel's shoe. So all was well in getting home.

Next day we were leaving in the PM, but decided to hit up Osaka castle early on. What's to say other than we went, we say, we took photos, we bought gifts. Such is the tourist destination.
Catching the bus later on was super, super sweet because we all hit the wall as soon as our butts were down, and home sweet inaka we went.

Friday, September 14, 2007

I, JET

So just for funs and giggles, and also because I think that I am already having an interesting day, I'll walk you through a school day in the life of Ray.

The alarm on my keitai (Japanese word for cell phone) goes off at 6:25 playing “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies.” I hit the one-minute snooze once, before a reprisal. The alarm is then turned off altogether. Then the second alarm on my keitai goes off at 6:30. Again, snooze, reprisal, off. This is followed by my old North American Nokia's alarm going off at 6:33. This one has a bit more of a piercing sound, and so that gets off immediately.

Long story short, my brain gets the message that I've got to get up. My body has other plans though. Therefore, at 7 AM, I finally roll out of bed. I should point out here that I have to leave my house between 7:15 and 7:30 to catch the train. A scene of madness ensues which a casual observer would assume to be a man out of sorts or perhaps one that has totally gone mad. Somehow in the 15 minutes that I have, I manage to shower, dress, shave, and pack my bag for the day ahead. In retrospect, I'm still in awe.

Out the door I go at about 7:21 and down the street to the train station. By fortune, my apartment is but a seven-minute walk from the station – five by way of running. I purchase my ticket from the machine and bump into Phil and Kristen doing just the same. At least once a week will us commuting JETs run into one another at the station. Two flights of stairs later, I'm on the platform and wedge myself into one of the last free spaces on the last of three cars of the train.

I should explain the train in the morning here. As we're more “in the country” than other areas of Japan – the fact that we're the prefectural capital be damned for the moment – our trains run less frequently. Every hour or so is the norm, even during morning/evening rush. And so we all have to pile up into this train at 7:31 in the morning, students, salary men, and traveler alike. On any given day, the train is about 94-96% students. And for whatever reason, it's just the three cars. The result is a sandwiched mass of humanity the likes of which you may have heard of (stories of people being forced into subway cars in Tokyo and the like). Now, mark that I don't claim that this happens everywhere in Japan, or indeed that it is like this everyday. Some days it'
s crowded but not pushing crowded. This has just been the case nearly every morning since I've been here.

After feeling grossly uncomfortable for about 15 minutes, the train stops at the third station and nearly empties to the tone of about 90% of its occupants departing, myself included. In our place go other students bound for another school down the line – which happens to be my second school – but it isn't nearly as crowded. Another 15 minute walk and I'm at my school nestled in the mountains.

First thing is changing shoes as you don't wear your outside shoes inside the school. We have a teacher's entrance where there are little boxes with our names on it for our shoes. We take from them slippers that we wear inside, and put our outdoor shoes in them. The idea is not to bring in dirt and rain and snow and the like into the school. Funny thing about this is that you can wear your indoor slippers to go to the parking lot, or to run into the field quickly for whatever reason (you're not supposed to, but it happens), and so it's possible to bring in the very dirt that you're trying not to; however this is just one of those “that's just the way it is” things about Japan.

After shoes is the walk to the office, and subsequently to my desk. One might recall from a previous post my telling of arriving in Tokyo and running a gauntlet of bowing? Well, coming to school is the same thing, albeit done vocally. As with Canada, it's customary to say “Good Morning” in the mornings. Same thing is done in Japan, except that here you say it to EVERYONE that you pass, student and teacher alike. As well, if you hear it being said, even if the person isn't addressing you, you just say it back. Indeed, often it is said not to anyone specific, but just to announce it to anyone in hearing distance.

So another teacher arrives to change her shoes as I'm leaving, “Ohayou gozaimasu”. I pass the main office, “Ohayou gozaimasu”. Two teachers passed me on the way to the office, “Ohayou gozaimasu”. And then you get INTO the office. I've just started saying, “Ohayou gozaimasu” indiscriminately as I go past the rows and I hear a chorus as my reply. Although I can finally sit down at my desk, there are teachers who pass me, so I have to go back to their “Ohayou gozaimasu”. All and all, I probably utter it about 30-40 times in a given morning, including to my classes and random students that cross my path.

Every morning we have a morning meeting. It's akin to morning emails that one gets at work. First the principals and staff address the whole room, and then we break into our grades and have another, more exclusive one. I understand maybe a collective 10 seconds out of 10 minutes worth, but the teachers usually fill me in on the important stuff.

Before the morning meeting though, I have one of my teachers already standing by my desk as I arrived. She gave me a few worksheets and explained that this is what we'd be doing in first period. This doesn't sound like much, but considering it's 8 in the morning and I was sleeping not one hour ago and still have a swimming head and haven't even sat down yet, this is a lot to take down first thing at my desk.

After the meeting, I go to one my teacher's class to read three sentences every morning. His students learn new vocab everyday, and he gives me three words in the morning with which to form sentences and read to his class for listening comprehension. So I make the sentences, go to his class, and then come back to the staff room to chill for a few more minutes. This is followed by cleanup time, which I also have to explain. So! In most Japanese schools, there's no dedicated janitor. At least there isn't that I've seen. So for ten minutes in the morning, the students clean the school. They sweep the floors and wipe down the boards and clean the bathroom and everything. My task in helping one class is to go onto a section of the grounds and pull out weeds. An exercise in futility if I've ever seen one, but that's just the ways it is. I chuckle to myself wondering how Canadian kids would rebel if asked to clean their classroom. On the surface, this seems absolutely heinous, but considering that we don't trash the school by the end of each day, the daily upkeep isn't that strenuous in the least.

As cleanup time ends, we finally start class. For my first period, we did an expansion of emotion/feeling vocabularly which culminated in me acting out various emotions much to the students' delight. My second class was switched from second to third period (With no one telling me. Although class changes are posted on a board every morning. In Japanese.) and therein we read from a book, did conversations, and I answered questions while they did English activities.

Any given day I'd have had fourth period on Thursdays off, but a cancelled class on Tuesday was moved to today, so I had to do yet another self-introduction class. Self-introduction wears on you. The way an army fatigue wears on a soldier after three weeks in the field and no change of clothes. You do it for each class you have – call it five or six or seven different classes per school – and times it by however many schools you have. I have two, so in theory I've done this anywhere from 10 to 14 times. I've created a slideshow of pictures that I explain concerning myself, Canada, Jamaica, my family, my friends, etc (A few of you reading this are in it, by the way). I've been told by the teachers that the students really enjoy it, but you'd never know from looking at their dull, cow-eyed expressions. Self-intro ends and I ask them if they have any questions. You could hear the current running through the power cords it's so quiet. If I'm lucky, I'll get two questions. The same two questions: “How old are you?” and “Do you have a girlfriend?”, which garners the two response of "Wakai ne" (Young, isn't he) and giggles, respectively. I didn't even get those today, so we resorted to picking on kids to ask me. Then they introduced themselves to me: “Hi, my name is Akira. I like sports.” The most popular response was, "Hello, my name is ~. I don't like English." Three kids said, “Hi, my name is ~. I like Raymond”, to which the entire class would erupt. I'm glad that I can at least get a laugh out of them, albeit at my expense.

Lunch followed, but I was talking with so many teachers and kids that I hadn't a few minutes to eat. I jumped right into my next class with the sports kids, and that involved me reading while they answered questions based on what I read. Every so often, the entire class would randomly start giggling and staring at me for what I perceived to be no reason. After convincing myself that I don't have food on my face, or that my fly isn't down, I just shrug and ignore it.

Lo and behold, a fifth class then follows. This was an oral class, so I spend the class reading phonetic symbols of English and words using them. You'd never think that the difference between hearing 'lock' and 'luck' or 'lock' and 'rock' would be so profound, but just wait until you see 40 contorted faces looking at you.

Oh, by the way, about half my classes are 40 or so kids, usually a split class that combines just for me. A few classes that I have are about 10-20, but 40 is what I consider the norm. For me, at least.

My classes finally over, I hit the cafeteria for my lunch at 2:20 finally, chilling with a teacher while there. Then came back here to finish up this blog. I started this at about 8:30 this morning. It's now 3:50. I want to post this, so I won't keep documenting until I leave. For now, I'll probably check out a few sports clubs and see what they're up to, then mosey on the 4:20 or 5:10 train home for meager dinner and decent sleep for once. Oh, perchance to dream...

So this is a more or less typical day for me. Mark differences are that I usually don't do five classes in a day; it's more around three or four. I usually have time for lunches. Also, my classes usually don't go so back to back; I've got breaks and such here and there. I just thought that this day was a bit out of the ordinary, so decided to share it. Pray for Mojo.


...

A short epilogue: I just noticed that I'm wearing my high school uniform - white dress shirt and grey slacks - the same grey slacks that I wore back then, too. Laugh if you will, but dropping $60 a pant times four pants? I'm wearing these badboys 'till they fall apart.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Still alive

Two things I've discovered in my month here in Japan so far: 1. I'm consistently tired; and 2. I have an omnipresent hunger.

The first I attribute to both school and social life. Waking up anytime before 7 in my books makes for a tired Ray, and doing so at 6:30 five days a week is just so. Once I get my shower, I'm bright-eyed and bushy tailed (such as one can be for 6:45), but right around lunchtime, the high wears off and I drop like a pile of bricks. Thankfully many of my classes are in the afternoons, so actually getting up and doing things allow me to stay conscious. The second I stop moving however, which happens after school, after the walk to the train station, and finally plunked down onto a seat, I'm out for the 45 min it takes to get home. It's a nice little catnap, sure, but not enough to recharge the batteries. The result feeling drained after getting home almost to the point of not have the energy or inclination to make dinner. IF I'm able to do that, then the evening is special indeed.

Usually at this point however is when the c-mails (essentially text messages) and e-mails start. This is the social blame. Living in an apartment block with ten other JETs as well as being within striking distance of about a half dozen others will give way to dinner invites, shopping excursions, and a variety of other activities and distractions that follow the working day. I'm not complaining of them in the least; in fact, it's rather refreshing to slip back into English and give one's ears a rest after a day of veritable verbal assault. The only relative downside is such expeditions returning one to their apartment around 11 or thereafter, which puts us into bed with less than seven or six hours, restarting the whole twisted cycle. Now, if you're one of those people who do six hours as matter of course and can feel none the worse during the day, my hat goes off to you. However, if you're one like I that CAN make it through the day on only a few hours, but feels like a worn tire doing so, then you know that し方がない (this won't do). I'm just thankful for the number of public holidays that we enjoy here in Japan as one of the saving graces (this month in particular as I've got three long weekends in a row).

On matters of the stomach, I suppose that this could be construed as a commentary on the Western habit of indulgence. It could be that I and I being used to food in such volume and availability as was the case in Canada that I now find myself having to adapt to the culinary ways of Japan. Cooking in my apartment is somewhat more difficult than it was back home. Reason being is that I only have one burner and perhaps a half square meter of counter space – if that. I'm used to having two or three burners going at the same time, in addition to an oven. However, I'm reduced to much less than that, and as a result I'm finding that I have to alter what I would usually include on the dinner menu. Furthermore, my fridge is a mini-fridge, so I'm unable to stock it full of two, three weeks worth of produce. It's still tricky in that I've got to go to the grocery store more often to see what's available and what I can make, but I'm sure that after a few more weeks I'll get into a comfortable swing of things.

Oh, sidebar. Speaking of the grocery store, I've got two complaints about the dairy section here. First is that I can't seem to find any half & half. If it's written in strange kanji that I can't recognize, or I just plain miss it, I apologize, but I haven't seen any since I've gotten here. Second is that the milk seems to have expiry dates of one week. Now, I can drink milk fairly regularly, but giving allowances for the mornings where I just don't have the time, and also when I want to drink O.J. or some other alternative, I just can't do it that quickly. A few extra days would be greatly appreciated.

A more slighted example is McDonalds, which I partook in for the first time just the other day. The fries and drink, being medium here, seem to be in between that of a Canadian small and medium, at least so as I could gauge it. A pleasant surprise was that a Big Mac here is great because the patties don't seem to shrink by the same curious amount that they do in Canada, they're not overflowing with lettuce that seems have a head left in the box, and they're piping hot, as if just freshly made.

So I can't eat to the point of being gluttonous as often as I'd like, but I suppose that just means that I don't have to worry about one more of those seven deadly sins. Now to work on sloth...