"Of all the onsen, of all of Japan, you had to walk into mine..."

Happened to find myself in an onsen town this weekend. An onsen town is almost like a resort - building upon building as far as you can see (which isn't very far since this is a town we're talking about) and all of it either ryokan or onsen (Japanese-style inn and hot sprint, respectively. If either of these terms is radically unfamiliar, I would direct you to wikipedia for details). It's the kind of place that Japanese people escape to to be Japanese for a few days. They thrust off the shackles of work and home life and spend a weekend wearing yukata (think kimono, but much less elaborate) and eating traditional meals. I was just there for the day to take in the leaves and onsen and relax from a busy week of two days' work.

So eventually I found myself in the changing room of one such onsen. Looking around, I noticed that everyone had a small wash towel with them to either spread water around or hide their shame. I had a quick look around and didn't see from where they had gotten the towels. I thought that perhaps they received them when they paid for admission, but as I was not properly dressed at this point, I dismissed that as a thing past. By the time I was good and read for onsen-ing, I felt slightly defeated and confused, and so decided to ask someone.

A much older gentleman was changing beside me and I noticed that he had one, and so I gently tapped his shoulder and said, "Sumimasen. Sono taoru wa..." (Excuse me, but about that towel...). The gentleman straightened up and replied, "I brought this towel with me from my hotel," - IN PERFECT ENGLISH. Before my initial shock wore off and I could think of what to ask him next, he continued with, "What hotel are you staying at?" Instinct still held me and so - being in Japan - I replied with "Ichi nichi juu dake" (Only for today). "Oh, I see," was his reply, "If you were staying, they would issue you a towel. But I guess you're out of luck, I'm sorry." I'm still reeling that this man, looking older than my grandfather, was relaying this info to me in grammar and pronunciation that would make a British linguistics professor squeal with delight.

His curiosity continued on: "Where are you from?" "Tottori," I replied, at this point in English. "I see. But where are you from in the world?" "Oh. Canada." "Canada, eh? (He said 'eh', and not in a patronizing matter) Toronto? Vancouver?" "Toronto. Very near to it, in fact." "Ah, Toronto. I've been once. Only for a few days though. Wonderful city." All this while we were continuing the conversation from the changing room into the onsen proper and then into the bath itself. To be honest, I don't know what surprised those watching more: The African-looking fellow walking into the bath, or the Japanese man speaking perfect English. Whatever it was, we seemed to entrance everyone's attention. He explained that his English had become so good as a result of business trips. He had been working for a cotton import company for more than 50 years and in that time had been to more than 50 countries across every continent except for Antarctica. "No cotton there," he said with a laugh. He was by now chairman of the company and his son was president, running the show. He mostly just attends meetings, which isn't bad for a 79 year-old.

He eventually excused himself and headed out of the bath, leaving me to contemplate. Of all the people I could have spoken to in all of the onsen in the city, I happened to speak to someone who'd reply in pera-pera (fluent; natural) English - who also happened to be probably one of the oldest people in the bath that evening. Furthermore, I had taken an entire course of Japanese Business and learned about the runaway economy of the 60s, 70s, and 80s, and here I got to speak with someone who was first-hand at the forefront of it. Add to it the stories he told me of being all around the world while historical events were taking place. It just goes to show that there are surprises under every nook and cranny, every corner that Japan can fit into its California-sized borders. I'm just glad that I gave him another chance to practice his flawless English.

The World of Balance

This could be the mother of all late posts by this kid. The events of this happening occurred in mid-September. I started the post and then saved and forgot about it. A half hour ago, I rediscovered it, and can now finally finish it. It belongs in the September pile, but I figure that no one would notice it there, so here it is, albeit late. To make up for tardiness, I put lots of pictures.

Preemptive sidebar: If you can identify which Final Fantasy game this is from, you get ten points.

What do random rides in BMWs, howling baboons, and love hotels have in common? This weekend.

It's funny that one can get cabin fever being in an entire prefecture. But this was my case up until a few days ago. Since my family's visit in mid-June (which I REALLY should write about...), I haven't been so much as across the border in a neighbouring prefecture in almost two months. All and all, it's not such a bad thing since I have many things around me to keep me busy. However, the patient realization of it all sort of hit me periodically like a metaphysical ton of bricks. Then and therefore, when I got the call from one of me favorite birds Renate to mission out for a long weekend, I gave it the green light and headed out me door.

A terribly oppressive morning later at 5 AM, I found meself on an express train bound for Himeji, which was then followed by a shinkansen over to Nagoya. I was rather excited to be riding the shinkansen as I had been looking forward to such a thing since I arrived. The badboy was much more crowded than I expected and so we were forced to stand in the hallway for about half the trip. Once the train started off and we went to full power, I must admit that found it somewhat... underwhelming. Granted we were moving at an incredible speed, I was imagining us to be going so fast that the view outside would resemble the streaks of light you see going at warp speed on Star Trek. This was sadly not the case, and so it was more a measure of time than visual cue that told me we'd made a long distance in a short amount of time. What seemed like only thirty-five minutes or so later and we found ourselves almost three or four hours by car from where we were.

We went straight from there to another city north of Nagoya called Inuyama. I myself would never have heard about it all all were it not for Renate researching and finding it. We had two reasons for going there. The first was the Monkey Park. No, I haven't been in Japan too long to not realize what I'm writing; yes, you did read that right. The Monkey Park. Essentially a zoo filled with various species of monkey. On paper, I thought her mad to seriously suggest such a place, but in the end it turned out to be quite fun. Especially because of the unexpected bonuses that came along with it.

For one thing, there were the kids. Being a place filled with monkeys, naturally many families were keen to bring their lil'un's to run around and see the animals. Thus, everywhere you went there were kids, kids, kids. And to say that a single Japanese child is two levels beyond cute is an understatement. But when you enclose a space with hundreds of them, your cute meter goes right through the roof and you're put into this lolly-pop, fairy tale, cloud-9-dreamy, euphoric high brought about by seeing all the happy and bubbly kids. Anyone having a bad day need only to go to the Monkey Park for five minutes and your mood is instantly improved - you don't even need to see a single monkey.

After monkey madness had taken us over, we walked to Inuyama castle - which is more like a 25 minute walk as opposed to the ten minutes that is advertised. I thoroughly enjoyed it as it is still one of the "old-school" castles and not one of the modern renovations that has removed the interiors and instead rebuilt them as museums. As we buy our tickets, the lady behind the glass asks my friend whether we'd like an English interpreter to accompany us. We agreed, and not a minute later a woman comes darting down the path breathlessly. How in the world did she know? Beats me. Japanese telepathy, perhaps. She mentioned that she'd studied English for a year in Nebraska, which caused the both of us to tilt our heads slightly and wonder why someone from Japan would seek out Nebraska as a place to learn English. (Prove me wrong, Lincoln, prove me wrong!)

Lunch and a wee bit of shopping later, we trained it back to Nagoya and finally to our hotel just outside of the city centre. Throwing fatigue to the wind (by this time [late afternoon], we'd been up 13, 14 hours), we went back the way we came into the city to hit up an orchid garden that Renate had found in her research. I must admit that I was a touch reticent to explore this one at first since I'm usually a "look and move on" person when it comes to flowers.

The next goal was to try and track down a Moroccan restaurant that existed somewhere in the city. By this time, we was mad hungry, but decided to stick it out for the hopes of trying something new. One helpful subway worker later, we did indeed manage to find the place. Dinner came with a show as a rather nimble belly dancer made her way out about half way through dinner to wow the crowd with moves that would make many a clubrat blush.

Stomachs satisfied, we returned to the hotel to partake in the spa. Our hotel fees covered a trip to a spa/onsen resort that happened to be conveniently attached to the hotel. It was nice to be able to relax after a long day by taking a dip in a pool of steaming hot, skin-scalding, can't-breath-'cause-it's-too-humid water. However, I'm convinced that the blissful visit later reeked havoc upon my system. Perhaps it was the raised body temperature coming into contact with the air-conditioned room, I'm not sure. But whatever it was, Ray's body was not feeling good the next morning.

Next day, bright and genki, was Nagoya castle. Two castles in one trip? Can we risk it? I think so! Now again, I love Japanese castles. You take one look and can almost feel like a medieval warrior being scared spitless and looking up at his own impending doom on orders to scale the badboy. For me, though, it's such a treat to see the original structures as they were laid out all those years ago. Nagoya, due to earthquakes, fires, and wars, was a reconstruct of the original splendor. Therefore, the interior was a modern museum, complete with AC, stairs, the whole nine years. Don't get me wrong, every castle is a mindblow and walking the grounds alone is worth the trip. Sue me, I'm just a historical funny pants.

After departing the castle, we happenstanced upon a Noh theatre just outside the castle. I had done a paper on Japanese drama, in particular Kabubi, however I was still nonetheless fascinated by Noh. Noh, for those not familiar, is a dramatic form hundreds of years old - a thousand, if I'm not mistaken. Everyone moves about painstakingly slow, wears masks and speaks in tongues I couldn't even fathom. Nonetheless, it's traditional, so everyone loves it. Back from the tangent, so we couldn't enter the theatre proper as it's only open during performances, but we could still see exhibits showcasing the theatres history, Noh in general, and famous plays.

After wandering the mean streets of Nagoya for another hour, we decided to hit up Ise at Renate's suggestion. Ise is a city a ways around Ise bay from Nagoya, taking about two or so hours by train. She had studied about a famous shrine located there that only the Emperor and a select few high ranking priests were allowed to enter. Commoners were (and are) not allowed to even see it; it's hidden behind a wooden fence surrounding all but the roof. I had no clue what any of it was about, but I was nonetheless gungho. We arrived in city and caught a cab ride from yet another infamous talk-your-ear-off Japenese taxi driver, who was quite endearing in his enthusiam, actually.

One more shrine up and down with, we soon found ourselves with the trouble of finding a way back to the train station. We'd discovered that the last bus was in about a half an hour, so we sat down in the shelter next to a young Japanese couple. Out of nowhere, an older Japanese man appeared and started talking to the couple. He was relating to them that the bus takes a good 20+ minutes or so, and how if they walked up one or two stops they could save a dollar or two on the fare. All the while we (Renate and I) were listening but making no indication that we could understand. He soon started talking about driving them to the station instead and asking their opinion. They seemed a little undecisive, and at this point the man metioned the "other people sitting there," - reference to my friend and I. I looked at him at this; he asked me if I could understand him. I told him that I did and that gave him further cause to press him point of driving. In my head, I figured that he was a taxi driver, however he wasn't wearing a uniform or anything and appeared to be quite casual. Doing the math in my head, I found it to be almost the same price split four ways if we took a taxi, so I said that I was willing. The other couple agreed and so we headed over to his car.

I was expecting to see one of the usual black, homogonous Japanese taxis that seem to be the standard in every city in the country. Instead, we roll up besides a brand new BMW sedan done up to the nines. NOW I'm thinking that this is some sort of limosuine thing that will cost us more. Starting to regret my decision, but I made my bed, so I figured I may as well lay in it. I popped in the passenger side and we were all off. I immediately noticed that there was no meter. Was it a flat-rate service? The whole way back the man was chatting me up, asking me where I was from, if I knew about the shrines in Ise, what I was doing in Japan, my life's story, basically. He was incredibly friendly and more than anything was curious about my home country and how I came to be there. Before I knew it, we arrived at the station. I figured that the bill was coming now, so I got out of the cab and drew my wallet, asking how much to pay. The man smiled and said (In Japanese), "Oh, no charge at all. I was just glad to talk with you. Have a good night!", and with that he climbed back into his car and drove off with a wave. Dumbfounded by the turn of events, I turn to the Japanese couple who up to this point hadn't said a word. The man looked at me and said (In English), "Lucky", and with a nod he and his lady walked off into the night.

We caught a train from there to Osaka where we decided to spend the night. Renate had made arrangements for us to grab places in a capsule hotel. An... interesting experience, to say the least. Yes, it had enough space for one person to be ok. Not luxurious by any means, but it gets the job done. If I had my call, I think I'd do an internet cafe next time. Leather couch and free drinks wins out. The reason that I mentioned love hotels in the preface was that this capsule hotel seemed to be in Love Hotel Central. Every building around it for blocks around was a love hotel. In my masculine immaturity, I'd take a look at a couple walking into one and think, "Ha! I know what you're up to!"

Shopping and walking followed the next day. Not too much excitement for those who know Osaka up and down by now. If I could put the weekend into a nutshell, it would be that monkeys are loud, Nagoya is a lovely city, and one should never underestimate the kindness of strangers in Japan.

Arie: A Taste of Home

For those who may not know, I've recently made the official call to return to Canada at the end of this JET year. Come next August, I'll lose my semi-ex-pat status and be among those called 'Canadian' once again. And y'know, it's funny. Now that the return plans have been etched in stone, I find myself becoming that much more nostalgic about the people and places I left behind, thinking about them more and more. Luckily, however, my melancholy state of mind has been curbed by the delicious, delicious events of yesterday.

One of my two schools had school festival yesterday. The theme of day one of three was food. Cooking, selling, producing, etc. Therein, I assisted one of the classes with the preparation of a somewhat familiar dish: Jerk Chicken.
Background: One of my students has quite a love and appreciation of West Indian music, particularly reggae and the like. Very nice boy who never speaks English to me, but often has me listen to the latest song he's bought or asks me a random question about Jamaica and my family. As school festival approached, his class decided to do jerk and, being the only one around who knows anything about it, I was asked to lend a hand. So I had some bottles shipped in from Canada and told them how to make it.

There was a small hiccup at the start as the fire for the barbecue wouldn't light, so I started to get a little apprehensive. However, assistance from one or two teachers soon had us with supercharged charcoal before we knew it. No sooner had we thrown the first few pieces on the grill did we attract the attention of students and local townspeople alike. It was almost a steady stream of selling pieces and throwing new ones on. I was a touch worried that we'd have leftover by the end of the day, but a good hour before the food stalls were to close, we'd sold the last of the 120+ pieces we'd prepared. What's more, I was a little worried that the taste and/or spice wouldn't agree with people, and yet I heard 'oishi' 's (JPN: Delicious) left, right, and centre, and marvels at 80 year olds tearing through it like it was nothing. It left me feeling quite pleased that I could pass on a bit of my own culture to people who may or may not have known much about it before. And I've learned that the best way to effect grassroots internationalization is through the stomach.

Footnote: Of course, I was taking little bits of chicken as the day went on. Even when a piece hit the ground, and it was the only one left at the end of the day... Hey! The other side was still good.

How My Students would decide the US Presidental Election

Hats off to one of my JTEs. Truly. This woman is like God in Japanese, English-speaking, teaching form. Senator Obama been declared President-elect not one hour prior, and yet she had already designed a worksheet and lesson on the fly for her next class. Upon completion, she asked me to accompany her as we had been talking about it all day up to this point and she wanted me to explain to the students what the election meant for America, Canada, and indeed, the world. I happily obliged, but not before donning my Obama campaign button that had been oh so kindly given to me many months before by one Heath.

And so apporximately one hour after the 270th vote had been posted, I found myself in front of a classroom of high school students and explaining to them how the American election system worked (A shock to me, more than anyone. I can barely explain how the Canadian one works). The highlight of the lesson came during the explanation of how the voting worked and the states having electoral votes. One student asked, "So what happens if the two candidates are tied?"

A girl immediately replied, "Janken?"

...

Arguably, the literal fate of the world being decided by a round of janken.

...

After recovering from my spout of laughter, a thought entered my head: "Would playing janken to decide global socio-economic politics really be that bad?"

Should Students Spend Time Earning Money?

This happened in class not 30 minutes ago. Long story short, a student gave a great answer to a question asked in class, so much so that I feel compelled to post it. Also, this should be that much more impressive for those who have ever taught a class in Japan and know the tasking effort of asking a student to give his or her opinion.

Note: I can't remember what was said verbatim, so this is just as close as I can put it. Also, names are changed to protect the innocent.

Teacher: So let's practice making rebuttals. I will take a sentence from the passage (a short essay that he made on the topic 'Students should spend three months earning money') and make a rebuttal about it. Then Ray will make a rebuttal about my sentence. After that, you will make a rebuttal about Ray's sentence. OK, here we go. "The author says that students may waste the money that they earn, but I think that earning money by themselves will help students realize the value of money."

After hearing this, I had no clue how to rebut that because I agree with it. However, I had to play devil's advocate and so I came up with.

Ray: "I see your point, but I believe that some students still won't know the true value of money."

Not the best thing, but I simply couldn't come up with anything else. We then gave the students about one minute to think about it and form a rebuttal.

Teacher: OK, so today is the third... Who is student number 3.... Ah, Rina. Please give your rebuttal to Ray's sentence.

Rina: I see your point that we may not know the true value now (she emphasized 'true'), but I disagree. When we start earning money when we are 20 or 21, if we make a mistake or get into trouble, there will be no one to help us. But now, since we are still students, if we have any trouble with our money, our family or friends can help us. So it is a good idea to learn the responsibility now so that we are prepared when we are adults.

In our heads, my teacher and I have our mouths held open aghast in stupefaction.

Teacher: 素晴らしい！ (Eng: Incredible; amazing; wonderful)

Again, for those of you who know what it's like to ask a student their opinion on something - even in Japanese - I think you'll see the significance.

Arie

As if the surreal hadn't happened enough in this twilight zone, yesterday I had to have my teacher turn to me while conversing with a student (who quite fancies reggae music) and ask, "Excuse me Ray, but the student has a question. What is a bong? I can't find it in my dictionary."
So I explained. Fully.
...
Yeah. Fun day.

Videos, Videos

I've little by little been amassing a small collection of videos that I've as of yet been unwilling/unable to post here for all to see, until just recently when I noticed the small little "post video" button that's always been beside the "post picture" button.
Apologies for my boneheadedness.
I'll list the associated blog entries with each one.

So please, grab a popcorn and enjoy a few sights and sounds from Japan.

Written just after "Did that just really happen?": This is Shan-Shan festival. It's an umbrella dance that happens in the first week of August that originally was an appeal for rain during a drought. Now, we just watch the dances all day and eat all kinds of insanely good food from vendors that line the route down the main street of the city.

From "Mochi, Mochi, Mochi, I made you out of rice...": This is the process of making mochi. The lady is an English teacher from one of my schools, and the man striking the rice is a gym teacher from my other school. They are fraternal twins. Cosmic, no? It also helps explain the trust for one another that she isn't afraid that he crush her hand.

From "Welcome 2008, あけおめ": This is Shibuya crossing, possibly the busiest pedestrian crossing in the world. I took this at about 9 or 10 AM on a Sunday morning during vacation when much of the city was more empty than usual. Yet it was still busy as all this. Could you imagine it at 9 AM Monday morning?

Entry forthcoming: Sumo. 'Nuff said.

From "Yazu-Ko FIGHTO!!!": One of the cheers that we did during our baseball team's first game. Our team was batting, and we're chanting the batter's - Yuusuke - name. See if you can pick it out.

Yazu-Ko FIGHTO!!!

Background: Before I even get into this one, I must explain both baseball in Japan, and Koshien. First off, to say that baseball in Japan is big would be one the grossest understatements of all time. So much that it makes me laugh. So much that reading the sentence I just wrote caused a giggle. Baseball is to Japan as hockey is to Canada as football is to America as football (the original; get it right) is to Europe as... Well, you get the idea. Games sell out days and weeks in advance, and TVs across the country light up when a match is played.

Now, you might think that since high school teams are naturally of a lower plateau than professional ball that they wouldn't be as popular. Wrong. If anything, they're even more so. It continues the prevalent theme here of being cool by association. Just as the high school/university you go to, city that you live in, and job that you hold have important ramifications for self both externally and internally, the high school baseball team is just one more extension. It's a way to rally the community together as well as provide for identity for the person: "MY school is the best in the prefecture. Nwah!"

Second part of the prelude is Koshien. Hanshin Koshien Stadium is the 73 year-old badboy that's holds the annual high school baseball tournament. It is also home to the Hanshin Tigers professional baseball club, but the high school tournaments carry such weight that the Tigers' schedule will be rearranged to have away games during said times to make room. That should give you some indication as to how insane these tournaments are. A tournament is held in spring and summer, with the spring one being invitational (Usually one team from each prefecture or region; about 36 teams) and the summer one involving a team from each prefecture (two from Tokyo and Hokkaido each; 49 teams). Conquering your inner demons, slaying the Emperor and bringing balance to The Force... I mean, beating the other teams in your prefecture is enough to get you a trip to Koshien. Just being able to go is an honor in itself. Even if you're out the first round, when you get home, you can still rub your nose in anyone within about 50 km's face that you're better than all of them. And if you win... Well, you're basically God for the rest of your life. You can tell everyone, "Yeah, me and my team won @ Koshien in xxxx," and olive branches will drop to your feet.

Wouldn't you know it. The year I start in Japan is the year we make it to Koshien. Huzzah! Now, @ the first, I was just kinda "meh" about the whole thing since I'm not a huge baseball fan to begin with, however enough hoopla around here about just what it means to everyone @ school and the community gave me a bit of genki-ness on the matter. Not to mention that I've watched the baseball team train every day (even weekends) really hard for each and every game, so I thought it a great chance to see them in action. Finally, my desire to see a Japanese baseball game in action and all the associated insanity would be satiated by this chance, so that sealed it.

A Tuesday ungodly wakeup of 4 AM and being @ school for 5:15 AM and on a bus by 5:45 AM later, we found ourselves arriving just outside of Koge around 10:30 or so. You know that this was the place as there were high school kids aplenty about. And what rocked was the number of local residents of our town that made the 3 hour mission to come and cheer the team on (See above - RE: Community Rally). We all 500 or so of us swarm the stadium to find it relatively full of people, something I was a little surprised by considering it was the middle of a Tuesday morning.

Both teams have their schools come out to egg them on, but don't think that it's just sitting in the stands and cheering. Oh, little Japan, just have to one-up us in any and everything. We bring with us Oendan. Oendan is like a cheerleading section, except that everyone is a cheerleader. Like, y'know? There are several people @ the front who lead all of us in a cheer, and the crowd responds and yells and makes noise and whatever. There are actual cheerleaders all up and down the aisle to complement us, and the school band provides the music. And we do nothing but cheer. When our team is up to bat, we include the name of the batter in the cheer, and cheer until our side is retired, then we can chill, but when we make an out while playing the field, we do a special out cheer that includes the name of whoever made the out. All and all, you're actually exhausted by the end of watching a baseball game here.
After the warm up, the game starts with little fanfare - no anthems, no first pitch, just a bow and go time. Cheers erupts, outs are made, bats crack. Actually, our defense was awesome. A foul caught going into a dugout, a diving catch from behind the back, double play... (I'm not making these up; they actually happened). When all was said and done, we walked out of there with a 1-0 victory. The crowd goes wild as the home team runs over for a bow. So much more madly exciting than Canada. And let me tell you how when we went back onto that bus to go home, all 40 of us dropped out faster than post-Thanksgiving dinner.
This is how work days should always be spent.

Hate Love, Love Sweets, Sweet Sweets

To continue my theme of trying to make up for lost blog time, I'm going to write one that I should have written on February 15th.

So Valentine's Day in Japan. Now, ordinarily my feelings towards contemporary Valentine's Day itself range from indifference to stupefied contempt. For years, I was preaching that this was a holiday who's purpose was to screw men over by an overstimulation of the economy and our women's joy meters - The whole day a superfluous attempt to convince us that there need be one specific day on which to show someone that we care lest we be put into the doghouse. Here, things are different.

On Valentine's Day in Japan, the tables are turned: It is in fact women who buy things for men. Usually it is something small, most often being chocolate. Also, it doesn't have to be confined to that special someone; women will sometimes give something small to a boss, coworker, or friend, just for the hell of it. Well, it's to foster improved relations vis-a-vis other people, I suppose. She's not compelled to give something to everyone male in the office, however; usually just a close friend or two will do.

Whatever the reason, I mind not. For on my day, I cashed in bigtime. It's not to say that my desk looked like a Laura Secord, but I did get a few little chocolates here and there from teachers, students, and even one mystery (Scandal @ school - who are you, mystery-chocolate-giver?!). Now, this gives rise to a puzzling internal dilemma. On the one hand, the slightly obligatory but nonetheless personally volitional nature of the chocolate causes me to side with my standing mindset on the issue, namely that it's a commercialized trap. However, the joy-joy feelings imbued from getting said chocolate tends to push those feelings aside. So brand me a hypocrite if you will, but I was quite happy with - for the first time - having the tables turned and being the one to reap benefits from yet another manifestation of the decline of Western Civilization (I wonder if this is how women feel on Valentine's day...).

One thing to note: This isn't the end of it. Oh no. In fact, in March, there's a day called White Day in which men are expected to repay those who gave them gifts on Valentine's. Three-fold, in fact. And THIS day was completely created out of the blue, purely for the expressed purpose of generating revenue. Nevertheless, most ladies who were generous a month prior find themselves in a Valentine's Day stupor when they're surprised with even better chocolate than what they gave.

So for men here, I guess there really is no such thing as a free lunch.

Kanpai!

Laments and apologies to all. I know that I have taken quite the hiatus amidst promises of updating regularly, and have received a number of complaints re the quality and quantity of the blog. Therefore, I'm coming back to it full steam with a few new posts delivered at rapid-fire pace. The next few will go in descending chronological order however, so raise too many eyebrows at seeing a post for Valentine's day in the middle of March. I'll start with a topic that's fresh in me mind as I experienced it just 12 hours ago.

Japanese cultural lesson for today: Enkai - 宴会

This roughly translates as a banquet, but it boils down to being a work party. You know how sometimes you and a few friends get together after for a drink or two to unwind? Well, an enkai is basically the same thing except that you more or less have to go. And the few friends is all the teachers in the faculty/grade/school. And a drink or two is several or more. That's enkai in a very small nutshell.

There are more serious and formal enkai that follow the important events at school, such as start/end of the school year ceremonies, graduation, end of the term, end of the year, and so on. Rule of thumb is that if there's a ceremony of sorts at school, or a long vacation is about to start, then there's going to be an enkai that night. These usually include the entire school, including the principal, vice-principals, all teachers, office and grounds staff, and sometimes even PTA representatives or members of the school board. Beyond that, there are any number of smaller enkai that can be held for any number of reasons by any number of people. If the third year teachers prep for a month for a demonstration class for the school board and it's now over, enkai. If the science teachers finish a very large and important unit that required them to work more than usual, enkai. All the first year teachers want to get together right after the new year to have a mini pep rally, enkai. So on and so forth. These can range in size, but anything smaller than maybe five or six might just be considered dinner. Also, attendance isn't mandatory at any of them. However most everyone goes. They're more often than not quite fun, and it's a good way to foster good relationships with your fellow teachers.

Enkai begins with sitting in your assigned seat, or drawing a table or seat number from a hat. The principal or next highest up will make a short speech to commemorate whatever it is we may be celebrating and then a toast follows, "Kanpai!" We are then fed... everything. Plate after plate after plate of the most interesting foods you'll ever see. Mostly fish. It looks like each plate was storyboarded by Da Vinci, cooked by Wolfgang Puck, and sculpted on the plate by Michelangelo. In this manner, maybe five or six (or more) plates will meet you over the course of the evening, though only perhaps three or four will be fully devoured (I'll explain why in a minute).

And after that first cheers, that's when the drinking starts... These enkai are nearly always all you can drink, in that we don't have to order - the bottles are just brought out as fast as we can drink them. Therefore there's no need to baby a drink for a long time, or worry about the next round costing an arm and a leg. I've got to explain something about Japanese drinking. The glass is never half empty or half full here because it's always full. Customs here is that when you're out not by yourself, you pour the other person's drink. So if I notice that my friend beside me's cup is getting empty, I have to jump and top it off lest I be seen as rude. If someone fills their own drink the whole table we all @ the table realize it and collectively sigh in realizing that we've failed another of life's little tests. So after every bite it seems, you take a notice of everyone's class, and if even a sip is missing (a pseudo-exaggeration), or even if it's someone across the table, you get up, walk around there and pour in the 5 millilitres that are missing.

Eating and drinking continue for a while until people decide to take a bottle in hand and go visit other teachers to shoot the breeze. During said shooting, everyone seems to stop eating amidst the delicacies surreptitiously placed in front of us as the night goes on. Topping and polishing off bottles at Olympic marathon speeds, things quickly move from being a quiet dinner to raucously loud and open conversations about nearly everything under the sun. This gets louder and bawdier until about two hours have passed when, on the stroke of the minute, everyone promptly gets up and departs. But oh no, the fun doesn't end here. More often than not, a second (or several distinct second) brew ha ha will informally convene with a smaller group of friends at a nearby establishment to basically keep the party going. Third parties are rare, but do happen amongst the saucier teachers.

That is the short and skinny of what an enkai is. It ends not here, though, for what blog update would be complete without demonstrating how this vainly relates to me own life. Especially since I attended an enkai last night and thus can offer first-hand application details.

After the bottles really start to be popped with alacrity, we move to the stage that I like to call "Partytime" but like to think of in my head as "Let's Practice English Time". It's around here that I discovered that - lo and behold - quite a number of my teachers can not only understand but can quite skillfully speak English. Someone will sit down beside me with a bottle in hand to top me off, and then bust out a, "So? You enjoy beer? So do I. What kind of things do you drink in Canada?". As my eyes retreat back into my head, my response will then foster a rather coherent and lengthy conversation about everything under the sun, invariably looking and Canada and/or Japan in some way. The interesting thing about "Partytime" is that teachers whom I never speak to, or who will rarely even acknowledge that I come to their school will all of a sudden find the (liquid) courage to not only approach me for a conversation, but will also do so in English. Going beyond that now, their English is frequently much more better than my feeble Japanese. In theory, I could pass a whole day @ school with hearing 50/50 Japanese/English if everyone all of a sudden developed a "We Love English" attitude.

The only downtime to "Partytime" is that being the ALT seems to act as a bullseye for teachers with bottle in hand. You're targeted and prompty approached for a topoff, which you CAN refuse in theory, but seldom do in practice as to be polite. And a topoff itself isn't so much a detriment to one's state of being, but several rapid topoffs, by several people, over several minutes, over the course of the party will rapidly accumulate to several pints being consumed with realtive easy. And this is before even mentionning sake or several other Japanese alcohols (If you're discovered to be able to drink Japanese alcohol, you may as well just take an instant-hangover pill and go home right then and there).

"Partytime" also rocks because it affords a glimpse into a seldom-viewed world. You'll often see some certain coworkers @ their desks Mon-Fri 9-5 (More like 8-7) doing nothing but work, often not saying more than a few words, and being in all ways unassuming. And by the end of an enkai, those same busybees are talking ears off and becoming the life of the party. And odder still is seeing them back to their quiet, hardworking ways the very next morning as though nothing happened. It's refreshing to know that there is life beyond the office. Which brings me to the next point: The next day at work, we all act as though nothing happened. No matter how crazy or awesome or scary things get, no matter what is said or done, who's insulted or startled or amazed, it's out of sight and mind by 8 AM. Truly, what happens at enkai stays at enkai.

So that's a work party in a nutshell. We hope that you've enjoyed this cultural lesson. We do hope that you'll give this a try yourself as on any given night in Japan, somewhere, someone is having an enkai. Well, there are probably any number of thousands each night across the country, so find one today and crush a cup of sake!

Welcome 2008, あけおめ

What do bad Japanese, The Matrix, and Michael Jackson have in common? My trip to Tokyo for New Year's.

I had NO definitive clue as to what I'd be doing for the winter break for months – there had been plans made, canceled, remade all across the board, but none seemed solid enough to convince me. Talking with my friend Nicole from high school, who was in country teaching at an English conversation company, I learned that she had no plans either. Coupled with the fact that she'd been here almost four months and I hadn't seen her yet, I thought it a good move to go and catch up, and at the same time take in some of Japan's largest city, of which I'd barely caught a glimpse of five months prior: Tokyo.

But the approach would not be easy. Getting there would be akin to the journey from Canada to Japan in that it'd be about a 10 hour trek. Cheapest way we could think of to get from here to there would be an overnight bus that would depart in the evening and arrive in the city very early the following morning. In truth, it sounded longer than it actually was. Good thing about the bus was that all the windows were curtained; even the front portion of the bus where the driver sat was cordoned off so it was incredibly dark in the cabin. The seats reclined a fair bit, and we were all given blankets. A few more degrees of incline and I almost would have sworn I was in bed. The only con was we stopped every few hours for pit stops. This was great for those with no bladder, but for the vast majority of the bus, being roused from deep REM sleep by lights and a large booming voice was akin to a continual near-death experience.

Arrival in Tokyo hit just shy of 6 AM. I'm still surprised by the number of people up and about in any given city before sunrise. It's no wonder that vampirism is on the rise these days. Getting in touch with Nicole was easy as she was still awake and in town from the night before (Tokyo partying for ya), so we hastily returned to her place (as fast as one can go on a 45 minute commute) for some sleep and food, both of which we desperately needed.

Bright-eyed and bushy tailed, my guide and I embarked to take on Tokyo by storm. Day one was probably the longest and the busiest, in that we saw the most things. We started in Shibuya, which is this sort of trendy party/shopping district – fun for both day and night. We observed the famed crossing from a lofty height in Starbucks – such crossing is apparently one of the busiest in the world. Too bad we hit it up on a random Sunday at 9 AM. Still cool nonetheless.

We then moseyed our way on over to Harajuku where sure enough there were people out in all sorts of anime/goth/just plain insane costumes to delight the tourists and get pictures taken. Truth be told, I've never fully understood it meself, but it didn't stop me from getting a few pictures taken with them. Navigating the endless and narrow streets gave witness to some of the most interesting and bizarre fashions I ever have seen. How on Earth some people walk buy and think, "That'd look good!" simply defies me. That being said, the businesses sure seemed to be thriving.

Later that evening, after passing the maddeningly expensive boutiques of Estee Lauder, Yves St. Laurent, and others, we found my friends @ the Gap, but declined an offer for dinner as we’d just eaten. Being far too tired to paint the town red that night, we visited the apartment of a few friend's of Nicole's and vegged to Japanese TV.

The next day following a wonderful sleep in, Nicole took me to Asakusa, which was host to Sensoji Temple. Not too sure what the story was behind this one other than it was very big and very crowded. A plus was that I was able to get a few more little Christmas presents for some people back home (Those keeping up with continuity will note that this is all taking place several days after Christmas).

The best part of this though was Nicole's foray into Japanese. I can't remember how it came up, but I had told her that during my solo trip to Himeji that I was forced to teach myself how to ask someone to take a picture of me in Japanese (Which I'm quite proud to say I thought of correctly all by myself). She wanted to know what it was so I taught her, sufficient that she had it memorized. Not content to let it just slip away, I told her that we must test it out to make sure that she had it committed to memory. Thus, to the first "Japanese" people that we saw approach us – a young couple – she walked up and said, "Sumimasen. Shashin o tottemo ii desu ka?" (Excuse me, can you please take a picture?), done with hardly a mistake. The young man smiled and replied – In flawless English – "Sure, no problem." Not only did he speak English, but it sounded native, with no accent or hesitation @ all. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that he was either a tourist visiting Japan as well, or someone who had lived abroad for MANY years. Needless to say, it was quite amusing that Nicole had to ask the one person who'd understand her in either language.

Oh, also, another thing to mention. Many people ask me how expensive it really is in Japan, and I tell them that on the average things are either the same or only slightly more expensive. On the average. On the other hand, it is possible to find things for much less expensive, as evidenced by our shopping around Sensoji. We found several shoe stores that were offering dozens of styles for about $20 CAD. And I'm not talking knock-off sneakers or anything. I mean full dress shoes and heels and just about any kind of shoes that you'd want. Needless to say, $50 and 3 pairs of shoes later, I was a happy boy. So don't let the image of omni-expensive Japan fool you.

Shopping and donuts later, we returned home to Yokohama to prep for the night – New Year’s Eve. After prettying ourselves up, we grabbed a few drinks (Amen to being able to drink in public and on the trains), and headed back into Tokyo. We met up with a large group of Nicole and Audrey's (another friend from high school who was living with Nicole. They came over from Canada together) friends in Shibuya, along with countless other thousands of Japanese and foreigners alike. I swear, it felt more like Toronto to me what with all the different ethnicities in the same place. Aside from the signs in Japanese and the public drinking, I would have thought I was back home for a minute.

The countdown occurred on a randomly passing bus. We screamed. We hugged. We kissed. Such was the entrance into 2008. Next, after many deliberations and varied delays, we made it to a club around 1 to dance the year away. We somehow bartered the doorwoman to let us in for only $15 when the cover that night was $40, and I somehow kept drinking for free by recycling the one drink ticket that I had. Won't bore you with the details, but it was a fun, albeit tiring night. Audrey, her boyfriend, and I left after 4; while Nicole and a bunch of Australians hung around until 7 or 8 (The clubs don't really close here. You can dance all night if you want). Hats off to the subways being open all day that night. I think it was close to 6 when I finally passed out, a pile of exhaustion and exuberance.

Maybe... 2 the next day, I struck out alone to view a few more places. Among them, Akihabara. This is the famed district in Tokyo where you can get any electronic known to man. Now, I was originally under the impression that one would be able to find things five years ahead of Canadian standards for five times less the price. The reality of the situation is that all and all, you're going to pay about the same, however the quality is better. Thus, what you'd spend for a top of the line camera from Futureshop is what you'd spend here, but the one here is probably that much better than the Futureshop one. If you were to get the EXACT same camera, then you'd find it a cheaper price here as it'd probably be "older". To that end, I didn't see anything that I NEEDED, but did pick up a game or two for my DS and almost got a cordless keyboard for me laptop. All and all, what I DID want or need I could probably get back in Tottori.

On the train ride back, it stopped in Shimbashi, which I'd studied about in textbooks, and I thought, "I'm not rushing anywhere. I have the time. Why not?" So I get out and walk around. I think that a few hundred years ago it was a pleasure quarter of sorts. Now, it's a major business center. Think Bay Street. That being said, on New Year's Day, at 8 PM. It was empty. And I mean EMPTY. There was maybe a five or ten minute stretch where I saw no one @ all – no cars, no pedestrians, no one. And this is in one of the biggest cities in the world. I thought that I'd walked into a B-movie and zombies were going to appear out of the alleyways. As I'm walking along, I come to an intersection and notice Tokyo Tower somewhat distant to my left. The "Why not" thought crossed my mind, and I decided to walk towards it. For the next 45 minutes or so. Lovely view, by the way. I highly recommend going @ night – can't see as much detail, but it's beautiful.

Next day! We hit up Kamakura, city that held the effective executive power of the country for a few hundred years. This mission in and of itself was daunting; took up almost two and a half hours from the apartment to getting off the last train. Transport in Japan? Efficiency, yes. Timely, no. At one point during the trek, the train made a funny movement that caused Audrey to almost fall. But this almost fall was in bullet-time. It was like watching it happen in slow motion. Her vain arm movements, the expression on her face, the speed at which she was moving... It was as if someone has set the movie to slo-mo just to scrutinize every moment in agonizing detail. Amazingly, she didn't even fall in her seven second voyage towards the floor.

We only had time for a few places as I had to be back to catch my train, so we saw the Daibutsu (Literally, Big Buddha) and another temple whose name escapes me. Crowded, crowded, crowded as everyone was at the temples to pray for the new year. We couldn't join as the wait was something like two hours, so instead we just ate from various vendors around the temple and became fat from so many Japanese foods.

Thus, at this point, I had to bid farewell to me friends and hightail it back to Tokyo to make my bus, which! I did with perhaps one minute to spare. Though when I got there, I found out that my time was just the boarding time, and that the bus wouldn’t leave for anther 15 minutes. Ugh... Funny thing happened when I got on. A man in front of me turned back and said, "Same bus" a few times, which I took to mean that it was the same bus that we'd come to Tokyo on (which I knew it wasn't). He eventually explained that it we had rode on the same bus to Tokyo together four days prior. He said that he remembered me because I reminded him of Michael Jackson. *Insert eye roll here. Needless to say, that brought a smile to me face. So long as he was referring to Jackson 5 Michael.

Weirdest thing about the trip was that towards the end, I was actually looking forward to coming back to Tottori. Big city living and all that as it was, I thought it all a little too... busy? Hectic? Fast-paced? I'm not sure how to coin it. But whatever it was, it had me longing for the relaxing air of the country. Or it could just be that in Tokyo, I'm just another common foreigner, while in my city, I'm Michael Jackson.