tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68767039105180527602024-03-14T16:09:24.619+09:00Gaijin, SMASH!<p align="right"> Gaijin smash: </p>
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1. When a foreigner in Japan uses brute ignorance <br> to navigate a complicated Japanese social situation, <br> intentionally or unintentionally.
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2. What happens to my head when I walk through <br> doorways in Japan without paying attention.</p></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-37731420065361671352015-06-30T20:56:00.002+09:002015-06-30T21:01:44.581+09:0013. Toke, yo (aka really mature humor)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Japan is full of a lot of <strike>weird</strike> culturally different things. Maybe not as many as I expected, but once you start seeking them out, they are there, waiting for you. Sometimes I suspect that because it has this reputation, they need to keep upping the ante to satisfy the cravings of tourists (me) who want to see whatever new weird stuff they have to offer. And nowhere has more of that than Tokyo.</div>
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Tokyo is a big city. It has roughly the population of ...Canada. Yes, the whole country, packed into a space as big as Connecticut. The three busiest train stations in the world (in terms of people who pass through them daily) are in Tokyo. In fact, the 23 busiest train stations in the world <a href="http://en.rocketnews24.com/2013/01/30/the-51-busiest-train-stations-in-the-world-all-but-6-located-in-japan/" target="_blank">are all in Japan.</a> In the busiest part (Shinjuku), the population density is about 50,000 per square mile. This means everyone has about a 20 ft x 20 ft square to themselves, including roads and public spaces.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y24Fs9MEnJk/VY-TekO28MI/AAAAAAAAAd8/nDAVa2Yx29Y/s1600/IMG_1628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y24Fs9MEnJk/VY-TekO28MI/AAAAAAAAAd8/nDAVa2Yx29Y/s640/IMG_1628.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you look closely, you can see a familiar face (and claws) in the background.</td></tr>
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The first time I went to Tokyo, it was with a super cool friend visiting from the US. We got off the night bus at 5:15 AM, and had to wait for the subways to start running. Our first stop was a giant robot statue on the waterfront, because how many giant robot statues do you get to see?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-biZfciy6Ncc/VY-WwT2xVKI/AAAAAAAAAeI/LaE-Af2Wv3s/s1600/Robots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-biZfciy6Ncc/VY-WwT2xVKI/AAAAAAAAAeI/LaE-Af2Wv3s/s400/Robots.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two. The answer is two.<br />
Tokyo version is on the right.</td></tr>
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We accidentally snuck into an antique car show that just happened to be going on, where I got to see my first Delorean (from Back to the Future), along with a motorcycle with a hearse sidecar.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XbzJvy4k_kQ/VY-Xh2BPP-I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/gwIBHayAnJ8/s1600/IMG_0636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XbzJvy4k_kQ/VY-Xh2BPP-I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/gwIBHayAnJ8/s200/IMG_0636.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If the doors flap fast enough, it can take off.</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K8fgNcryXZE/VY-X6I55a3I/AAAAAAAAAec/RX9nCotzXgc/s1600/IMG_0633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K8fgNcryXZE/VY-X6I55a3I/AAAAAAAAAec/RX9nCotzXgc/s320/IMG_0633.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one isn't the Delorean.</td></tr>
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I later learned that we missed seeing the Statue of Liberty that is prominently displayed in that neighborhood. My worries were set to rest, however, when I learned that Japan <a href="http://www.timeout.jp/en/tokyo/venue/9765/Odaiba-Statue-of-Liberty" target="_blank">has two more replicas</a> of the Statue of Liberty, so I would have more opportunities. Walking around Tokyo, you are sure to find interesting events wherever you go. At other times, I saw a ninja demonstration in the park (complete with awesome sound effects) and a Michael Jackson impersonator performing at a Japan-Cote d'Ivoire friendship event.<br />
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After the car show, we pretty much spent the rest of our trip going to weird restaurants, a surprisingly awesome pastime. We went to one that was prison-themed, where we rattled the bars of our cage to call the attention of a guard who served us very phallic food. Another was a restaurant where we caught our own fish and then decided how we wanted them cooked. However, we were not especially talented fisherman, so it did take a long time. They also had great English on their signs:<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_4LjRhG-65w/VY_QbSXgShI/AAAAAAAAAe0/D8qXc6otb7A/s1600/IMG_0671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_4LjRhG-65w/VY_QbSXgShI/AAAAAAAAAe0/D8qXc6otb7A/s640/IMG_0671.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Oops. I crapped my hand when I wasn't supposed to.</td></tr>
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One night we spent at the "Robot Restaurant," a place that actually wasn't much of a restaurant at all - they served us a boxed lunch like you would get in a convenience store here. While you ate, dozens of women and men dressed like robots and dinosaurs (among other things) performed a show a few feet from our faces. The entire show made no sense and mostly revolved around the fact that they had cool props and a lot of energy. Needless to say, one of the most entertaining things I've ever seen. Also the whole building was bedazzled in sparkles.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FbSFFy4PFJc/VY_5MU9VXtI/AAAAAAAAAfI/TX6hTZedep0/s1600/IMG_0677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FbSFFy4PFJc/VY_5MU9VXtI/AAAAAAAAAfI/TX6hTZedep0/s400/IMG_0677.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">After I saw the sheet music, I began to doubt whether they were actually robots.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cpNz0LPDPVg/VY_6wNx0oJI/AAAAAAAAAfU/iWSJaNeWVWY/s1600/IMG_0682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cpNz0LPDPVg/VY_6wNx0oJI/AAAAAAAAAfU/iWSJaNeWVWY/s400/IMG_0682.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robot boxing: not just the packaging stage at the factory.</td></tr>
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After my concept of reality was sufficiently distorted from watching scantily clad robot-women ride larger robot-versions of themselves while <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asSFKZ1UEf0" target="_blank">robots</a> in gyro-scooters did laps around them, we went to another bar. And that one was the strangest of them all.</div>
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Meet Kagaya, a bar whose mascot is a frog for reasons we found out later, and at first appearance seemed to be very normal, despite the strange things we had heard about it on the internet. The man (there was only one employee who was cook, waiter, and manager) invited us in and sat us down on the bamboo mat flooring. We waited for about five minutes before he gave us our hot towels that usually come before a meal in Japan. This consisted of him coming up to me and bursting into "the Imperial March" from Star Wars sung in a ear-piercing falsetto, right before he got out a little remote control anime character and drove our towels four feet from the closet to the table.<br />
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Throughout the night, we were subjected to various penis jokes, a menu written in crayon with options like, "I'm hungry! Master, please feed me!", and the dude dressing up as a frog and making thrusting motions at everyone while pretending a smaller frog puppet was his penis. I felt very immature and amused at the inanity of all.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hummnFMD-MU/VZE0IUCEmDI/AAAAAAAAAfk/9DZQdimIC8M/s1600/Kagaya.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hummnFMD-MU/VZE0IUCEmDI/AAAAAAAAAfk/9DZQdimIC8M/s320/Kagaya.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">No, I wasn't kidding.</td></tr>
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For contrast, at one point he put on a hat and striped shirt and drew everyone's picture.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aRgwEZMZBPQ/VZEzeqcZ6UI/AAAAAAAAAfc/jifwR-lXMTc/s1600/IMG_0694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aRgwEZMZBPQ/VZEzeqcZ6UI/AAAAAAAAAfc/jifwR-lXMTc/s320/IMG_0694.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think it ended up looking a lot like a smiley face, but I don't really remember.<br />EDIT: For the record, no, I don't know what stripes are.</td></tr>
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The next time I went to Tokyo (much longer this time), I met up with some friends from college that I was overdue to see! It was great, and I felt like I had built some lasting friendships with these people. I even took my first picture in a girly photo booth (these are all over the place) with them. These make you more beautiful (allegedly) by giving you big doll eyes and ultra-smooth skin. Unfortunately, it wasn't until afterward that I realized I had forgotten to zip up my fly. Therefore, a lot of the pictures look like this. "Cawaii" at the bottom there means "cute," just in case the first three adjectives didn't do it for you.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3C_RhGjZgM/VZJO2WaOmaI/AAAAAAAAAf0/-eA8HFdlmFg/s1600/IMG_1638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3C_RhGjZgM/VZJO2WaOmaI/AAAAAAAAAf0/-eA8HFdlmFg/s320/IMG_1638.JPG" width="226" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had to squat because I was too tall. Hopefully it doesn't make my legs look fat.</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_373443346"></span><span id="goog_373443347"></span>Tokyo has a lot of strange-looking buildings, and unfortunately I could only document a few of them. I went to a building with plants growing all over the outside, and a rice paddy in the lobby. It's a farming office, so they decided to build a farm in the <a href="http://www.dezeen.com/2013/09/12/pasona-urban-farm-by-kono-designs/" target="_blank">office</a>...</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UUf7fKa4Vr4/VZJc6aWZMqI/AAAAAAAAAgE/cLlXdlqKuVk/s1600/IMG_1605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UUf7fKa4Vr4/VZJc6aWZMqI/AAAAAAAAAgE/cLlXdlqKuVk/s320/IMG_1605.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can get a whole six bowls of rice from this plot. Totally worth it for the downtown Tokyo office space they have.<br />
Disclaimer: I know nothing about rice.</td></tr>
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I also saw the world's first capsule-style building. Capsule hotels are pretty popular in cities in Japan. They're hotels with shared bathrooms and other amenities, combined with a small capsules that are just high enough for (some) people to sit up in. They're often used by people who work long hours and miss the last train home (which is around midnight, despite Tokyo having a super active nightlife). <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nakagin_Capsule_Tower" target="_blank">Here</a> is their predecessor in all its run-down glory:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XRU-G2gk_Nc/VZJfx9YvLuI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/DHuqpyhyNf0/s1600/IMG_1610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XRU-G2gk_Nc/VZJfx9YvLuI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/DHuqpyhyNf0/s320/IMG_1610.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some dude does an AirBnB out of here now.<a href="https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/1305889" target="_blank"> Not kidding</a>.</td></tr>
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And of course since I've been really mature this post, I'd like to balance that out with a building many refer to as "the golden poop." I can't imagine why.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LL69DLJqtzw/VZJ2xViAKcI/AAAAAAAAAgg/XAsphApRyfo/s1600/IMG_1653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LL69DLJqtzw/VZJ2xViAKcI/AAAAAAAAAgg/XAsphApRyfo/s320/IMG_1653.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'll leave it up to you to figure out which one it is.</td></tr>
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I ended up couchsurfing with this great guy from the US, who ended up showing me quite a few spots around Tokyo I definitely wouldn't have seen otherwise. One of the weirder ones was a shop that makes the plastic models of food that you find outside of restaurants. They even had some artwork in their store window.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OZ4rNYhmLv4/VZJ6eftqAzI/AAAAAAAAAgw/tdkYCrOWiYk/s1600/IMG_1643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OZ4rNYhmLv4/VZJ6eftqAzI/AAAAAAAAAgw/tdkYCrOWiYk/s640/IMG_1643.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As Edvard Munch once said, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGHHHH!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cbj29ItwZDU/VZJ6ecFqo9I/AAAAAAAAAgs/gBGc-nQTVpw/s1600/IMG_1645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cbj29ItwZDU/VZJ6ecFqo9I/AAAAAAAAAgs/gBGc-nQTVpw/s320/IMG_1645.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noodles don't have any right to do that on their own. Call in the exorcist.</td></tr>
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The last place I went to was one of a kind. Actually, it made it into the Guinness Book of World Records, although the person I asked to take my picture was not aware of that fact. Meet...</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">THE WORLD'S SHORTEST ESCALATOR!!! </span></b> [fanfare]</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GUpNzBUa8iU/VZJ9aFEnZaI/AAAAAAAAAhA/1KlgI77IA-4/s1600/IMG_1677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GUpNzBUa8iU/VZJ9aFEnZaI/AAAAAAAAAhA/1KlgI77IA-4/s640/IMG_1677.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at the peasants taking the stairs on the other side.</td></tr>
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It's weirdly located in an uncrowded corner of a department store, which is maybe why they decided it didn't need to be too long. You might ask, "Why have an escalator that only carries you halfway down the stairs?" I did. It seems like a nasty surprise for people who can't take stairs on their own. I'm surprised there weren't any stranded there when I arrived. The good thing is that it's short enough they probably know what they're getting into. On the other hand, since it's not in a lot of use, it doubles as an urban stairmaster for obnoxious people like definitely not me. </div>
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OK, I'm done. Weird Japanese commercial for a facial strengthening device, probably the equivalent of the shake weight in the US:</div>
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Picture/video credits: </div>
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Parts Unknown, Anthony Bourdain</div>
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backpackology.org</div>
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Pao Facial Fitness (ft. our hero Cristiano Ronaldo)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-58927254575277286432015-03-01T19:29:00.002+09:002015-03-01T19:35:49.155+09:0012. Backstage at School (aka Ping Pong and Smashing Pumpkins)My blog may give the impression that I am freely wandering around Japan and taking pictures of weird products all the time. In fact, five days a week, I go to schools in Tamba and teach English to children who, for the most part, could care less. I thought I'd take the time to fill you guys in on the less glamorous side of my time in Japan.<br />
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Here are some things that are also not glamorous:<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wFNGBGTLBvE/VPLJWlChzvI/AAAAAAAAAYc/EtJxZrM7A4c/s1600/IMG_1006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wFNGBGTLBvE/VPLJWlChzvI/AAAAAAAAAYc/EtJxZrM7A4c/s1600/IMG_1006.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a sandwich with the crusts cut off and<br />
the sides pushed together. In this case, the<br />
inside is filled with salsa.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_emjrX3b6GU/VPLJgBnGWDI/AAAAAAAAAYk/RmvWOFNxeiM/s1600/IMG_0754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_emjrX3b6GU/VPLJgBnGWDI/AAAAAAAAAYk/RmvWOFNxeiM/s1600/IMG_0754.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the name of the building, not the menu.</td></tr>
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I go to middle school on Monday through Thursday, and generally I just think up some activities for the students to do during the first part of class. The teacher in charge of the class teaches the next part of class, and calls on me to repeat words with my soothing and masculine voice every once in a while. Every so often, I feel like a cult leader that is brainwashing my minions with repetitive chants ("I am a Korean girl. I like listening to J-pop better than K-pop. Arashi is my favorite J-pop band."). Unfortunately, we go on less field trips than most cults. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DZbE4ZXBT90/VPLkM-S67wI/AAAAAAAAAaU/_Yq-DhV8m2w/s1600/IMG_0996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DZbE4ZXBT90/VPLkM-S67wI/AAAAAAAAAaU/_Yq-DhV8m2w/s1600/IMG_0996.jpg" height="283" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did get to fly kites with these elementary school children, though!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In one class, the teacher decided that I should read them a story. It started out innocently enough, with a tree standing by a road. Then an atomic bomb went off in the nearby city of Hiroshima, and a young boy and girl took shelter underneath the tree after the blast. The girl sang to the boy through the night as he died, and then she died just before morning. The teacher told me that the last foreign teacher that he made read that out loud started crying too much to continue (thanks for having me read it too, then!). He then asked the students if they loved America despite this event. About half raised their hands. In reality though, everyone seems to have forgiven America completely, which is pretty astounding if you consider how long Asian countries hold grudges against each other.<br />
<br />
In certain classes, the students don't repeat that many words, so I am forced to stand in a corner or resort to other activities. If some students are being disruptive or asleep, I usually step in. Some students have figured out that they don't actually have to do anything, though. There is no detention, calling parents, or even getting held back a grade if you choose not to participate. There's even one student who says his back hurts too much to sit in a chair, so he doesn't have to go to the majority of his classes (except the ones he likes, of course). I occasionally am told to go play basketball with him in the gym, which is better than sitting around.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QzG0nNVgs5Y/VPLRrOReCoI/AAAAAAAAAY0/kt7uj_5_8rw/s1600/IMG_0862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QzG0nNVgs5Y/VPLRrOReCoI/AAAAAAAAAY0/kt7uj_5_8rw/s1600/IMG_0862.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or crouching around. When the other teacher pictured saw this,<br />
his reaction was: "I need to stop wearing blue and white together."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Speaking of sitting around, most teachers here only teach 3-4 periods a day. They have 22 teachers for 140 students at the middle school I work at, and the class sizes are still about thirty students to a class, because each class has 2-3 teachers in it always (even though only one really does anything most of the time). This doesn't mean that they're not busy though. The teachers assign worksheets and other gradable assignments to the students at an alarmingly high rate, and teaching club activities is practically mandatory. Most teachers are at school from 7am to 7pm. Fortunately, I get to leave at 3:45, which is very good compared to a lot of other foreign English teachers in my position.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I try to bond with the kids, but mostly they don't want to talk to me. In order to help this situation, I have done various things, including arm-wrestling every middle school boy and playing ping-pong against the middle school girls. While I would generally lose most arm-wrestling matches I entered, and win most ping-pong matches, the result was the opposite here. The coach had me play all the girls from worst to best, and I won the first ping-pong match handily, won the second after a heated deuce, and lost the next 20 without the girls breaking a sweat.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m6kt9pIE1ug/VPLT11WLthI/AAAAAAAAAZA/KXOkMTMDucg/s1600/pingpong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m6kt9pIE1ug/VPLT11WLthI/AAAAAAAAAZA/KXOkMTMDucg/s1600/pingpong.jpg" height="175" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was in my dreams for weeks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I also made this, to encourage students who hate talking (everyone) to write to me:<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UXGJzbjL0eI/VPLVYu3SILI/AAAAAAAAAZM/gb8XX7xr3zM/s1600/IMG_0778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UXGJzbjL0eI/VPLVYu3SILI/AAAAAAAAAZM/gb8XX7xr3zM/s1600/IMG_0778.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first letter: "Dear Nate, please correct my English. SDFLS DF KJF<br />
BDFEI VNZ QOI EI FNV. Thank you, Tsubasa."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In school, there are a few noticeable differences that still get me. For example, the students stay in one class, and the teachers change classrooms. Also, I need to change my shoes constantly. I have a pair that I come to work in, a separate pair for inside the building, a pair that I use if I want to run around outside with the kids, a pair that I use for any event in the gym, and I have to change into the provided slippers when I use the bathroom. Also the bathroom is a squat toilet, which I still have trouble pooping in.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-laaXJZ6HEMc/VPLZK2YWRiI/AAAAAAAAAZY/tJvC_Jmpfh0/s1600/IMG_0745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-laaXJZ6HEMc/VPLZK2YWRiI/AAAAAAAAAZY/tJvC_Jmpfh0/s1600/IMG_0745.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I still haven't run into a situation where I would need to use the ones on the left.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The relationships within the staffroom can be strange as well. The youngest teacher in the staffroom is forced to do all the work that no one else wants to do, so he is always working late. Once, he was told by a co-worker: "You know on Tuesday when you left (after tennis practice and grading papers) at 7:45? I was making copies for my class on Wednesday. You should have offered to help me." I would probably not do well in his position.<br />
<br />
When my power got turned off because I failed to recognize my bill in the mail, I turned to one teacher and said, "now, I don't want everyone to know, but my power got turned off..." at this point I was interrupted as she shouted, "Nate's power got turned off! Does anyone know what to do?" The principal then called the board of education, the power company, and my landlord and angrily conferred with each one.<br />
<br />
People try to do what they can to help me, to the best of their ability. One teacher will always make sure I know what's going on, because despite studying Japanese constantly, I still have no idea what they are saying at the morning meeting every day. Another teacher always tries to make conversation despite my limited ability to reply intelligently. One day she asked me, "Do you like pumpkins?" I replied that I did, and when I came back from the next class I was teaching, a large and green pumpkin was sitting on my desk. I had never cooked a pumpkin before, but it was a good day to learn.<br />
<br />
Speaking of pumpkins, I did attend a halloween party, a holiday which is not widely celebrated in Japan. I came with no costume, and was gifted various items of cloth which were pinned to me by a helpful old lady.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dp8uXACiKnI/VPLcaxBxvtI/AAAAAAAAAZk/UP5Ig7Q2OBY/s1600/IMG_0401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dp8uXACiKnI/VPLcaxBxvtI/AAAAAAAAAZk/UP5Ig7Q2OBY/s1600/IMG_0401.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, we have racist costumes here in Japan too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As fall wound down, the squash and pumpkins that lined the halls as decorations needed to be smashed and composted, and one day I found myself hacking pumpkins to pieces with the help of a pickaxe and the autistic kid at school (which each helped me in different ways). He was incredibly excited but didn't quite understand what we were doing, and although I left with my work clothes covered in pumpkin flesh and sweat, it was one of my favorite random things that has happened to me at school.<br />
<br />
This guy with autism is one of my favorite students at school. He is always happy, no matter what happens, and always greets me with:<br />
<br />
"Hello. How are you?"<br />
Me: "I'm great. How about you?"<br />
Him: "Why thank you!"<br />
<br />
I eventually started changing my answer to "I'm great. You look good today!" so that his answer would make more sense as a reply. He always finds me wherever I am so that we can walk into the lunchroom together. When his grade is signaled, he either holds my hand or wraps his arm around me and we proudly walk in to the lunchroom as a team. <br />
<br />
On one fateful day though, we were late to lunch and he changed his grip right as we were walking through the door. This caused me to look down and forget to duck under the door. As all the other students had already sat down, the resounding THUD! that my head made on the doorframe drew quite a bit of attention and "are you alright?"-type-responses from everyone. Although it wasn't the most comfortable moment, I walked away with my ego bruised more than my forehead. Now this guy makes sure to duck along with me whenever we go in.<br />
<br />
I feel like this is a great time to randomly insert a commercial for my favorite Japanese face-muscle-strengthening beauty product.<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_1722830186"></span><span id="goog_1722830187"></span><br />
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On that note...</div>
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Here's some quotes from students in their journals about winter break:</div>
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-I ate crab together. A lot of bodies were jam-packed and were very delicious.</div>
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-I had a three day soccer expedition for winter vacation. I did my best more than before. The result was not good.</div>
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<br /></div>
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-I went to the house of the grandmother today. At first I informed everyone of the New Year when I arrived.</div>
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-I went skating with a friend. I fell with all one's might, but was fun only once.</div>
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-It is very happy this winter vacation. Winter vacation of good-bye me.</div>
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-The older brother gets railroad work. I have a crush on my older brother. So I want to become a station employee.</div>
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-December. My family was cake.</div>
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That about sums up my December as well. T shirt and I'm out!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8AXI-7hLlf0/VPLlAnsWWMI/AAAAAAAAAag/On4kcoiGuTc/s1600/IMG_0647.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8AXI-7hLlf0/VPLlAnsWWMI/AAAAAAAAAag/On4kcoiGuTc/s1600/IMG_0647.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Huuuum indeed. Huuuum indeed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TwrTH4tFB-c/VPLlEVElU8I/AAAAAAAAAao/ODZNXO3qksw/s1600/IMG_0654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TwrTH4tFB-c/VPLlEVElU8I/AAAAAAAAAao/ODZNXO3qksw/s1600/IMG_0654.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you write them down, your goals are more likely to happen.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Ping-pong photo credit: cartoonbrew.comAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-34203748995939993192015-01-21T18:49:00.001+09:002015-01-21T18:49:27.942+09:0011. The Authorities (aka Police and Power Rangers)Japan is a very safe country. I left my nice bicycle at the train station for two and a half weeks with the wheel locked to the frame (not even locked to a rail or anything!) with a lock I bought at the dollar (100 yen) store, and came back to find it sitting right where I left it. That would have been gone in a day in any other place I lived.<br />
<br />
However, this lack of (unorganized) crime doesn't mean I haven't had my run-ins with the authorities. My first experience begins with a lovely excursion to a grassy meadow with a friend to do some photography. Turns out that a billion Japanese people had the same idea.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jzqs7s3RuWg/VLNoiiGQ5NI/AAAAAAAAAVs/SqeE20T-gcs/s1600/IMG_0273.jpg" height="240" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It would be even more meta if someone took a picture of me taking this picture.</td></tr>
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If there is one thing I have learned about Japanese people with hobbies, it is that they will always have the best equipment. Some of them even had remotes controls for their cameras, to avoid any blur from pressing the button (and therefore shaking the camera slightly) with your finger. This is completely unnecessary during the day, I am informed by a photographer friend. It was very beautiful, though. </div>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zpW8xcEubr8/VLNotNOr-wI/AAAAAAAAAV0/h4PVw9Iuacw/s1600/IMG_0291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zpW8xcEubr8/VLNotNOr-wI/AAAAAAAAAV0/h4PVw9Iuacw/s1600/IMG_0291.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not as impressive when you realize this is a picture of a poster I saw.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We hiked around for a little while, and stayed after dark to take some long exposures, which on my end just involved running around with a flashlight trying not to trip.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="212" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-h-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xfp1/v/t1.0-9/10625079_10203437508712442_5989228215148349021_n.jpg?oh=279532b595fb1e4c5f86992d9ac4f886&oe=5537CAFC&__gda__=1429758873_cee8cbdb394487b29b0b760de3761743" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was supposed to be an "I" in the front, but my flashlight<br />
skills were not up to the task. The last two symbols are "sun"<br />
and "origin," which together mean "Japan."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When we went back to our car, we were surprised to find the parking area cordoned off and a car with its headlights on parked right in front of ours. As we cautiously approached, we saw it was the police. We started talking with them, thinking that perhaps we had overstayed our legal parking limit. They asked us if this was our car, and when we said yes, they were immensely relieved. Turns out that "wilderness" areas are popular places for suicides (suicide is about twice as prevalent in Japan compared to the US), and they had a search party out looking for us in the forest. We apologized profusely once we understood what was happening and they called off the search party (our Japanese skills helped us less than the pantomime of someone hanging done by one of the cops). We fortunately left without any citations for anything.<br />
<br />
Random, unrelated picture of a razor that comes with a <strike>doll</strike> action figure:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RgA4659vY2I/VLn8f9HAMdI/AAAAAAAAAWU/0-9xsziZaZE/s1600/IMG_0047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RgA4659vY2I/VLn8f9HAMdI/AAAAAAAAAWU/0-9xsziZaZE/s1600/IMG_0047.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You too can brandish this razor like a sword and <br />
fight off the demons of unwanted facial hair.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My second run-in with the police occurred when an unnamed passenger in my car decided not to wear her seat belt during a trip back from the grocery store. As we drove past the police station, a man holding some orange sticks waved me into the parking lot in a way that made me feel like I was a 747. After it became apparent we were foreigners, eight officers swarmed our car in a misguided attempt to flood our ears with what they thought was simple Japanese. Clearly the Tamba Police Department is a busy place. What's even better is that they were filming some commercial with the Chief of Police and a guy in a phoenix costume. We couldn't get a great picture because we were being interrogated by police, but this one isn't bad at all.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-riUCYahrqlo/VL9qIlyTxdI/AAAAAAAAAXY/b3ERC0UNZbU/s1600/IMG_0865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-riUCYahrqlo/VL9qIlyTxdI/AAAAAAAAAXY/b3ERC0UNZbU/s1600/IMG_0865.jpg" height="320" width="318" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This grand animal symbolizes rebirth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
They told us to drive back to our house and get our passports, and we returned with them shortly after. They then held us hostage for half an hour while they asked me why I didn't have an exit stamp from Bolivia. I told them about the international drug cartel I run, and after they spoke to my boss they decided it was OK and everything was in order. Actually they just eventually gave up and stopped caring but what kind of story is that? <br />
<br />
Here's a picture of an annoying locust from Tamba. I really like taking pictures of bugs.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GO8KAc6ddxw/VLpx-Y1BRCI/AAAAAAAAAWk/wcdTdnDgnEE/s1600/DSCN0333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GO8KAc6ddxw/VLpx-Y1BRCI/AAAAAAAAAWk/wcdTdnDgnEE/s1600/DSCN0333.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are about as long and as offensive as my middle finger.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next story doesn't involve the police, but instead the emergency radio in my apartment that some of you avid blog readers may remember from chapter 4. I had just gone to bed, when suddenly the loudest sound I have ever heard in my apartment comes from the radio, even though I have the volume turned all the way down. It's a siren, and I immediately jump out bed ready for anything from an earthquake to a rogue Blastoise (it is Japan, these things do happen).<br />
<br />
I try to understand what they say in the announcement following the siren, but I can't make anything out except "volcano" and "fire." Needless to say, I am not comforted, and I go outside to see what is happening with my neighbors. Lights are turning on in the apartments, and everyone's radio is freaking out just like mine. The nearby fire station is doing its best to wake everyone in the district with an air raid type siren. I've got a lot of adrenaline, so I don't really stop to think. I throw all the food in my pantry and fridge into my bag, along with some water and warm clothes, and I head out the door. I notice no one seems to be leaving though. I eventually track down someone, and they inform me it is just a drill, albeit one that involves the whole neighborhood in the middle of the night, and we don't have to do anything.<br />
<br />
I proceed to be thoroughly awake for the entire night for some reason.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
Random picture of "A True American Tradition":<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGIKqeTvnA4/VL9qyB6EyaI/AAAAAAAAAXg/XiyZEA0Vsb4/s1600/IMG_0696.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGIKqeTvnA4/VL9qyB6EyaI/AAAAAAAAAXg/XiyZEA0Vsb4/s1600/IMG_0696.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nothing says America like fruity marshmallows.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I have had some great encounters with Power Rangers in strange situations lately. Both at dinner parties, actually.<br />
<br />
The first time, my Japanese teachers (the people who teach me Japanese) decided to have a dinner party with their students. I was surprised to see some people in Power Rangers costumes, who turned out to be the uninvited roommates of one of the teachers. I say uninvited because later they specifically told us that those people had not been invited and were not welcome back again.<br />
<br />
My favorite moment came when the green ranger went outside for a moment, and returned with a violin case. He then opened it, put it on the table where his plate had been, threw a few coins in, and started playing. Terribly. After every song he would point to his case and jingle the coins around like it wasn't a dinner party and he expected to make his daily living this way. He did make around $18 USD from demanding money every time someone took a picture. I didn't pay.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--7w5AI_42cE/VL9sRBr2cEI/AAAAAAAAAXs/V_BX6f5ziGU/s1600/IMG_0777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--7w5AI_42cE/VL9sRBr2cEI/AAAAAAAAAXs/V_BX6f5ziGU/s1600/IMG_0777.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You think Power Rangers don't need to eat too?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The second encounter was at a year-end party that the Board of Education threw for us. Usually when I go to a party for work, it ends up being at some super-fancy place and afterward they ask me for $50-70 USD. This time we split a cabin rental cost and bought food at a convenience store. Halfway though the night, the guy who is apparently the highest up in our department excuses himself for few minutes, and comes back... in a pink ranger suit! And immediately tackles me.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vpaHXlDk_Bo/VL9phrMbcQI/AAAAAAAAAXI/8h7rhd7PyWs/s1600/IMG_0801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vpaHXlDk_Bo/VL9phrMbcQI/AAAAAAAAAXI/8h7rhd7PyWs/s1600/IMG_0801.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This ranger was a lot friendlier (and thankfully smaller) than the last one.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In an amazing turn of events, he jokes that he should demand money for pictures with him! All of us who went to the previous event think this is the best thing ever. We spend the rest of the night talking about Power Rangers of course. Apparently "Power Rangers" is just the american reboot of "Super Sentai," a Japanese TV series that's been going on forever. <br />
<br />
And of course, a few great English examples:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nomjnF9AvZA/VL9z4sZp4hI/AAAAAAAAAX8/lDG1yBLznBg/s1600/IMG_0710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nomjnF9AvZA/VL9z4sZp4hI/AAAAAAAAAX8/lDG1yBLznBg/s1600/IMG_0710.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one didn't fit me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0pmKQsOrcxk/VL90HXqpNhI/AAAAAAAAAYE/2wZoV_FFftA/s1600/IMG_0707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0pmKQsOrcxk/VL90HXqpNhI/AAAAAAAAAYE/2wZoV_FFftA/s1600/IMG_0707.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-8132935228381776282014-12-20T23:43:00.001+09:002014-12-20T23:43:52.898+09:0010. All the Small Things (aka squid and perverts)And no, this post isn't about public baths in Japan. <br />
<br />
Before coming to Japan, I had heard all sorts of things. I had heard that used schoolgirl panties were sold in vending machines, and that everything was super technologically advanced. So far the vending machines have been disappointingly food-oriented for the most part, and some of the teachers at the schools here think email is unnecessary. However, I did find a vending machine that sold beer without requiring an ID, which I still think is hilarious.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s6Cj9a1mw8Q/VI1EPy8ocdI/AAAAAAAAATY/VoMjxk4E1fs/s1600/beer%2Bvending%2Bmachine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s6Cj9a1mw8Q/VI1EPy8ocdI/AAAAAAAAATY/VoMjxk4E1fs/s1600/beer%2Bvending%2Bmachine.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here you go, kids! $1 USD</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I have seen my fair share of unnecessarily high-tech things and total cultural disconnects, but a lot of what surprised me was the little things that I didn't expect to be different. <br />
<br />
First up. Groceries.<br />
<br />
It's impossible to find anything, because all the writing is in Japanese, first of all. I found this thing next to the jelly that looked like peanut butter, but turned out to be peanut-flavored frosting. Not as delicious as you think. I eventually did find peanut butter, but it was roughly the same price per kilogram as cocaine and similarly difficult to find.<br />
<br />
The fruit here can be pretty expensive. I've seen watermelons go for $50 USD a melon, but usually they're closer to $20. Often the fruit that we would normally buy is a lot more expensive, but also dressed nicer. Many apples have their own (usually pink) sweaters:<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MD1g7O-woY0/VI0HRK9hlkI/AAAAAAAAASo/2UZ7g5ymWKY/s1600/IMG_0089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MD1g7O-woY0/VI0HRK9hlkI/AAAAAAAAASo/2UZ7g5ymWKY/s1600/IMG_0089.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh honey. Pink is really not your color.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mushrooms here look like they're from fern gully, or at least from a cave in a video game or something.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fadrjaB7gUU/VI0-xKTo47I/AAAAAAAAAS4/quEChpmuy2Y/s1600/DSCN0388.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fadrjaB7gUU/VI0-xKTo47I/AAAAAAAAAS4/quEChpmuy2Y/s1600/DSCN0388.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I tried mixing these with a Daedra heart, <br />
but no restore health potion so far.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9gDZYBZmehw/VI0-1ICUtFI/AAAAAAAAATA/fiJPtuZK5lU/s1600/DSCN0406.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9gDZYBZmehw/VI0-1ICUtFI/AAAAAAAAATA/fiJPtuZK5lU/s1600/DSCN0406.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I still check for fairies in these <br />
before I cut them up.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I've bought things that looked strangely like candy, but turned out to be dried fish. Because seafood is so readily available and cheap, there are quite a few dried seafood products on the market. This includes squid jerky, which unfortunately tastes just like you would imagine. Speaking of seafood, here are a couple of my favorite examples that you can buy in the grocery store right next to my house. This squid was inkless, and fairly easy to get the "spine" out (really just a cartilage feather-shaped thing).<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w-Xga3DiZ1E/VI1FtFCd4hI/AAAAAAAAATo/E9KUJ-WaHXo/s1600/DSCN0305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w-Xga3DiZ1E/VI1FtFCd4hI/AAAAAAAAATo/E9KUJ-WaHXo/s1600/DSCN0305.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hardest part was getting them to <br />
hold still for the picture.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NktCxmx0DFg/VI1FtIjwpCI/AAAAAAAAATk/hjSgHjhN5aM/s1600/DSCN0307.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NktCxmx0DFg/VI1FtIjwpCI/AAAAAAAAATk/hjSgHjhN5aM/s1600/DSCN0307.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You are no match for my sword,<br />
vile beast!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The next time I bought squid, it was not so inkless and looked quite different. Squid is really tough to cook - you put it in for about 60 seconds, and it can get really rubbery if you leave it in too long and really slimy if you leave it in too short.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x4DmjkYLmmo/VI1IwvhU2GI/AAAAAAAAAUI/XFBnkCp1zNg/s1600/IMG_0239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x4DmjkYLmmo/VI1IwvhU2GI/AAAAAAAAAUI/XFBnkCp1zNg/s1600/IMG_0239.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only $2 USD? That's like 2.5 cents a tentacle!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rbSbRZHX4jU/VI1LDIpVCOI/AAAAAAAAAUU/y2A-vTy37T0/s1600/IMG_0752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rbSbRZHX4jU/VI1LDIpVCOI/AAAAAAAAAUU/y2A-vTy37T0/s1600/IMG_0752.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can also buy big ones, but I was worried about my ability <br />
to defend myself if ever met one of their relatives in the ocean.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Octopus, apparently, is supposed to be barbecued or put in an oven. Having neither of those things, a sandwich press had to do.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XP9sbFn70Fg/VI1INwp6l3I/AAAAAAAAAT8/FfWs47u_mZ4/s1600/IMG_0268.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XP9sbFn70Fg/VI1INwp6l3I/AAAAAAAAAT8/FfWs47u_mZ4/s1600/IMG_0268.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can buy the same size you would see in<br />
a zoo, but somehow that seemed more wrong.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6S8rjMSc-8/VI1INwYNuXI/AAAAAAAAAT4/tMeT55LBRno/s1600/IMG_0269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6S8rjMSc-8/VI1INwYNuXI/AAAAAAAAAT4/tMeT55LBRno/s1600/IMG_0269.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Probably my favorite breadless sandwich<br />
I've had yet.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XP9sbFn70Fg/VI1INwp6l3I/AAAAAAAAAT8/FfWs47u_mZ4/s1600/IMG_0268.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6S8rjMSc-8/VI1INwYNuXI/AAAAAAAAAT4/tMeT55LBRno/s1600/IMG_0269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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There are a lot of things out there that I have no idea what to use them for, but this was one of my favorite. Maybe you put them in soup?<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pi7CMSt2Py4/VI1L5NfQi9I/AAAAAAAAAUg/SoeDzdIMJqQ/s1600/IMG_0621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pi7CMSt2Py4/VI1L5NfQi9I/AAAAAAAAAUg/SoeDzdIMJqQ/s1600/IMG_0621.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not so roly-poly in real life.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zqXY76rO3vY/VI1L5I9VVKI/AAAAAAAAAUk/p8PW9thY58g/s1600/IMG_0622.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zqXY76rO3vY/VI1L5I9VVKI/AAAAAAAAAUk/p8PW9thY58g/s1600/IMG_0622.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For some reason, both of these had <br />
drastic price reductions. Can't imagine<br />
why.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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There are a lot of strange things about groceries in Japan, so I'm sure I'll keep you periodically updated with more.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
----</div>
People in Japan are often very worried about people being generally creepy towards women, and rightfully so. Interestingly enough, one word for "pervert" in Japanese is the symbol for "foolish" followed by the one for "Chinese." <br />
Trains are one of the biggest places where people worry about these "foolish Chinese." Apparently some men try to brush against women on crowded train cars to get some human contact. This has led to a number of harsh punishments for real or perceived unnecessary touching, as well as...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6WeAnlodTIw/VJAq59ZwnVI/AAAAAAAAAU4/2AjTFaKvv5w/s1600/IMG_0176.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6WeAnlodTIw/VJAq59ZwnVI/AAAAAAAAAU4/2AjTFaKvv5w/s1600/IMG_0176.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a train car, as my exceptionally well-planned<br />
photography is unable to accurately show.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another strange result of this widespread perv-phobia is cell-phone camera sounds. When you take a picture with your cell phone, it makes a shutter sound on full volume, which is a feature you cannot disable. This is supposed to make it harder to be a subtle pervert. My friend Alejandro says he saw some dude take a video of a girl on a train though, which makes a lot less noise. Where there's a will, there's a way!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
----</div>
<br />
For some reason, everyone always backs into parking spots here (except us foreigners!). Everyone I've talked to just seems to think it's safer. People have very strong instincts to do it, even when there are no other cars around.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9iCw0vAQcgk/VJWAx7VJU3I/AAAAAAAAAVI/ZL2DGJIrssg/s1600/IMG_0789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9iCw0vAQcgk/VJWAx7VJU3I/AAAAAAAAAVI/ZL2DGJIrssg/s1600/IMG_0789.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spot the foreigner!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
Instead of signing papers with a written signature, everyone carries a wood-carved stamp with a slightly artistic representation of their name. Most people carry inkpads, but often inkpads are provided in places where people often sign. Mine is written in English, so it's a little different, but it's still kind of fun and interesting to use.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://pictures.todocoleccion.net/fot/2007/06/21/5260383.jpg" height="239" id="irc_mi" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 60px;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forging signatures in Japan mostly involves being good at whittling.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Speaking of which, someone assigned a set of Kanji to my name! It is 音人, which means "sound" and "person." Pretty cool, huh? Also, those Kanji are relatively easy to write, so I don't have to write my name in Hiragana like a kindergartener would.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
----</div>
<br />
But back to things you might care about.<br />
<br />
I've run out of good general ones, so here's a few other miscellaneous ones:<br />
<br />
-FM radio stations are tuned differently. In the US, we have frequencies between about 88 and 105 MHz or whatever the units are. In Japan, it's about 76-92. In practicality, this means that my American alarm clock can only pick up one station in Tamba, the station that plays classical music in the morning and smooth jazz at night.<br />
<br />
-Things are super hard to throw away! Everything is separated into "burnable trash" and "plastics except bottles and egg cartons," which doesn't leave you a lot of wiggle room to throw out miscellaneous stuff. There is a considerable amount of large junk in my apartment that I have not found the means to throw out yet, but will probably get to in the next 7 months. Or I will make the next dude deal with it.<br />
<br />
-Soy sauce is plentiful here. It's all very good, but there is some that is exceptional. This was expected. However, for some reason it is an abomination to put soy sauce on your rice. When I tried in public, people told me, "Nate... you can just eat it plain, you know." They then offered to get me some new, unsullied rice.<br />
<br />
-Japan is super cash-based. No one uses a credit card to pay for anything, so when I travel I'm often carrying on my person more money than I've ever seen in my life.<br />
<br />
-ATMs need their beauty rest. I live in a town that is mostly a farming community, but there is a shopping center, so it's not that rural. However, ATMs go on vacation at night. They are still physically accessible in some places, but because the actual bank closes its ATM doors from 8pm-8am, you cannot withdraw money. This happened after the ATMs all unionized in 2005. Once they went on strike, it was hard to find the resources to oppose them. Seriously though, it would be super easy to give me money at nighttime.<br />
<br />
And the obligatory strange English T-shirt to finish things off. I will note that this one is technically grammatically correct.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Urw0lYj8aHs/VJWGX1104uI/AAAAAAAAAVY/oN_qvNU_qqA/s1600/IMG_0708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Urw0lYj8aHs/VJWGX1104uI/AAAAAAAAAVY/oN_qvNU_qqA/s1600/IMG_0708.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How inspirational. And then outspirational. And then inspirational again.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Picture credits on the Hanko stamp:<br />
www.todocoleccion.net <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-51828736150608637532014-10-04T13:06:00.002+09:002014-10-04T13:42:22.284+09:009. Rain and marriage prospects (aka day trips I've taken)I've taken a lot of day trips while I've been here, mostly due to my inability to speak Japanese and unwillingness to organize a place to stay at night. Also I have a car, so I can come back as late as I want. My car is tiny, but surprisingly roomy inside and it gets over 40mpg so that's pretty cool. Also it's a manual, but the gearshift is on the left side of me because you drive on the left side of the road here.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1ZYcYZQKkk/VCDHOH1BSsI/AAAAAAAAAP4/9Wvjs4ffEx4/s1600/DSCN0274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1ZYcYZQKkk/VCDHOH1BSsI/AAAAAAAAAP4/9Wvjs4ffEx4/s1600/DSCN0274.jpg" height="262" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a good thing I have that spoiler. It's pretty handy when drag racing through the rice patties.</td></tr>
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Cars with yellow plates are called Kei-cars. They have a smaller engine and are generally tiny and less safe, but get better mileage and are cheaper. Even pickup trucks are super tiny here. These things have the same dimensions as my car, and all the farmers around here use them.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QMV2hrHke9s/VC9LhFcozXI/AAAAAAAAAQk/-t5q7M57QCc/s1600/DSCN0286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QMV2hrHke9s/VC9LhFcozXI/AAAAAAAAAQk/-t5q7M57QCc/s1600/DSCN0286.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We have REAL trucks in Amurrica.</td></tr>
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Roads here are super narrow and have sharp dropoffs into mini ditches on the side, which makes me having a tiny car even cooler, because I can turn super sharp into a random alleyway (good for drug deals and illicit gambling) and know exactly where all parts of my car are. Here are a few of the day trips that I have taken in my trusty white speed-pod.</div>
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Takeda castle </div>
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This my first trip, and it was pretty high on my to-do list, because I took a look at a picture of it, and it apparently looks like this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HEdahvURwiA/UJtCrdZPIMI/AAAAAAAAAOs/qPAdGxEbWC8/s320/%25E7%25AB%25B9%25E7%2594%25B0%25E5%259F%258E.jpg" height="213" id="irc_mi" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never trust a picture.</td></tr>
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It might actually look like this, but we chose to go on the day the typhoons started. We spent the entire time shivering and just being super wet in general. From our point of view, it looked more like this, and we were actually walking in the ruins of the castle itself:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.northernsound.ie/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/FOG.jpg" height="179" id="irc_mi" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 17px;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think I see the peak!</td></tr>
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The typhoon was actually super destructive to Tanba in general. It washed away quite a few roads and bits of railway.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BCTdfEgRv7o/VC9GUvaamKI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/vdnaRBJ35CE/s1600/IMG_0267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BCTdfEgRv7o/VC9GUvaamKI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/vdnaRBJ35CE/s1600/IMG_0267.jpg" height="234" width="320" /></a></div>
I went and volunteered one day to help clean up the mess, and I was surprised to learn that some of the people who were helping alongside me had driven 3 hours to help out. I guess whenever there is a natural disaster (frequently in Japan), the government organizes buses to drive people to help out, and lends tools (from shovels to backhoes) to the places in need, even if it's someone's private property. <br />
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Kyoto and Daimonji</div>
My second misadventure was going to a festival in Kyoto, which was actually really cool in retrospect. However, it was raining so hard that the main street of the neighborhood we were in turned into a river. We visited a famous bamboo forest with some very big bamboo, which looked exactly like many forests in Tamba - still very cool though. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iDT3-3W-o0w/VC9KuJMMZbI/AAAAAAAAAQc/Q0RO9a2msi0/s1600/DSCN0280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iDT3-3W-o0w/VC9KuJMMZbI/AAAAAAAAAQc/Q0RO9a2msi0/s1600/DSCN0280.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I swear I sometimes change my clothes.</td></tr>
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We also visited a lot of temples, where often the rain would pick up and we would be stuck huddling under the overhang of a building that we were too cheap to pay to go into. We did go into a few overpriced restaurants to get out of the rain, where we paid $9 for a cup of bitter tea. Oh wait, the tea wasn't bitter; I was. That's right. The temples were pretty cool though. Kyoto is a beautiful city. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rbmJ0xsyBs4/VC9OvPsyGRI/AAAAAAAAAQw/io5vhwqOGwY/s1600/IMG_0038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rbmJ0xsyBs4/VC9OvPsyGRI/AAAAAAAAAQw/io5vhwqOGwY/s1600/IMG_0038.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It looks sunny in this picture. It wasn't.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0uSx8VYqyVo/VC9PUFj_DfI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/bwrhDYeK8MU/s1600/IMG_0039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0uSx8VYqyVo/VC9PUFj_DfI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/bwrhDYeK8MU/s1600/IMG_0039.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This store only sold chopsticks.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RGEkQa9TqMw/VC9PWcbYvaI/AAAAAAAAARA/M7vvwufEEXY/s1600/IMG_0033.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RGEkQa9TqMw/VC9PWcbYvaI/AAAAAAAAARA/M7vvwufEEXY/s1600/IMG_0033.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gotta have my sandwiches. This is pre-rain.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q6f3MK0ixCM/VC9PamT-aCI/AAAAAAAAARI/YHRXjWE-9Vg/s1600/IMG_0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q6f3MK0ixCM/VC9PamT-aCI/AAAAAAAAARI/YHRXjWE-9Vg/s1600/IMG_0040.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They stopped offering rides once it flooded.<br />
Wusses.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.city.kyoto.jp/html/koho/tv/img/daimonji.jpg" height="224" id="irc_mi" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's a "big" fire on the mountain!</td></tr>
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We went to a festival where they light fires on a mountain to outline certain Chinese characters and other pictures, the most famous of which is the Chinese character for "big." I have no idea why. Probably some cultural significance or something. A very cool trip which unfortunately was rained on rather harshly.<br />
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Fukuchiyama and a Barbecue</div>
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One of my Japanese friends invited me to something he described as a large culture festival where he would be playing Irish harp. I went and checked out the city it was in first, and I went to a pretty cool castle there. Immediately after, it started raining super hard (no flooding this time though!).</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JuCaAaeSa6k/VC9Udw9Wg9I/AAAAAAAAARY/XoLOxQiMJlM/s1600/IMG_0134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JuCaAaeSa6k/VC9Udw9Wg9I/AAAAAAAAARY/XoLOxQiMJlM/s1600/IMG_0134.jpg" height="100" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't quite make out the McDonald's sign in the town below. Or as they say, Makkudonarudo.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I used google maps to go to the address that my friend sent me, and ended up 10 km away from where I was supposed to go, at a random Buddhist temple. I asked the people there about it, and they had no idea what it was. They were very kind, and let me try to wait out the worst of the rain in the temple and hang out with them. The monk-in-residence apologized to me that he wasn't wearing his monk outfit that day and was instead wearing jeans and a t-shirt. We got to bond over the fact that we both liked playing upright bass, but didn't own one. I guess he used to play a lot in the jazz scene in Kobe before he started tending the temple full time. </div>
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Anyway, the rain never died down, but I eventually made it to the festival, which was a bunch of people huddled under a tent in the middle of nowhere.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1-JB92YCCk0/VC9cqt4yRYI/AAAAAAAAARo/fUUgqrSuuic/s1600/DSCN0427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1-JB92YCCk0/VC9cqt4yRYI/AAAAAAAAARo/fUUgqrSuuic/s1600/DSCN0427.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You know it's good when the people at the front apologize to you for how the party is a failure and don't let you pay the entrance fee.</td></tr>
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It was actually great fun. It was an international festival, so I met people from all over the local town and Eastern Europe, the latter of whom were on a business learning trip. Later we went into somebody's greenhouse and had a barbecue, which was really cool. My concept of a barbecue has usually been limited to hamburgers, steaks, and hot dogs. Maybe fish if you're very open-minded. These guys barbecued equal parts vegetables, meat, and noodles, and then smothered everything in a special sweet-and-sour barbecue sauce. It was delicious and awesome.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hgWuyOO8vx4/VC9e-cftcfI/AAAAAAAAAR0/oQS6jxa-D70/s1600/DSCN0428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hgWuyOO8vx4/VC9e-cftcfI/AAAAAAAAAR0/oQS6jxa-D70/s1600/DSCN0428.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I asked this guy if he liked the Yankees, and he said "who?" In retrospect, that's probably good because I don't know enough to have a conversation about any kind of sports.</td></tr>
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The Beach!</div>
I finally managed to take a trip where it didn't rain, and it was the perfect one to have good weather on. We went to the beach of the Sea of Japan, which was perfect swimming temperature, and really beautiful. We swam around in the ocean, and my friend Tyler found something red at the bottom. We came to the conclusion that we would poke it with a stick. It turned out to be this gem:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oyKl3pVXm-8/VC9rMTBFDLI/AAAAAAAAASE/3dn9tbN-jlk/s1600/IMG_0298.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oyKl3pVXm-8/VC9rMTBFDLI/AAAAAAAAASE/3dn9tbN-jlk/s1600/IMG_0298.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oops, I dropped half my Jetski in the ocean. Oh well, that's its new home now.</td></tr>
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As we lounged on the beach with our newfound treasure, a local woman approached us and told us she came to the beach every day to feed the cat that lived there. We all started talking in Japanese (by which I mean Tyler spoke to her in Japanese and we listened intently), and she seemed very nice. We ended up talking for about 2 hours. She wanted to be friends on Facebook, so we did that. After we got back home that night, we all got messages from her in Japanese. It took me about 10 minutes to decipher her message and reply, at which point she messaged me back immediately. I gave up.<br />
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The next day Tyler told us about his interaction with her, in which she told him "I like you. I love you." in English, and that she wanted to be his girlfriend in Japanese. Later that day she upped the ante with "I wont to marriage with you." Tyler managed to avoid a phone conversation with her, saying that it was too difficult. We were all fairly amazed, but the best part happened later that night.<br />
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I got a message saying that she wanted to "secret chat" with me. I thought that maybe she wanted to dish some juicy gossip on her feelings for Tyler, so naturally I was into that. She called me, and I answered against my better judgement, because I know how difficult it is to understand another language over the phone. She didn't mention Tyler at all and instead focused on how much fun our time at the beach had been. Then she decided to tell me how much she wanted to get married, which she immediately followed with "Do you want a Japanese girlfriend?". I tried to tell her that I liked to take things slowly, but my Japanese wasn't up to the task, and she kept interpreting it that I wasn't interested in women. Eventually I agreed with her to save time. She stopped talking to us after that, but we haven't ruled out the possibility she'll go after the rest of the males in the group.<br />
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Since littering is a huge crime, and throwing things away is super difficult here, I ended up taking the half a Jetski home with me. Now it's all I have to remember an interesting trip to the beach and a woman who was probably on the prowl for more than cats.<br />
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Highlights of random English apparel I've seen:<br />
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T-shirt: Is it in? <br />
Purse: Do everything you can to succeed. Make-up can make you happy.<br />
T-shirt: Are you move? Recently I began to become sticky in my lifestyle. <br />
Hat: Boner!<br />
T-shirt on a 12-year-old girl: I feel like making love.<br />
T-shirt: This is a spicy message from blue cross girl.<br />
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Picture credits<br />
jplart.com<br />
northernsound.ie<br />
tanba.jp.co <br />
viajeajapon.comAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-68369008088324513762014-09-21T11:44:00.001+09:002014-09-21T11:44:22.275+09:008. It's raining men! (aka sports and alcohol)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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My last two weeks at school have consisted of a lot of sitting around combined with awkwardly trying to find some way to be helpful. There were no classes the second week of school, which meant that the students practiced for sports festival about 9 hours a day. The majority of this time was actually spent practicing how to march out to each event in a coordinated manner. This was especially evident in the introduction to the event, when 130 middle school kids marched in step around a track, then formed up in a very militaristic marching pattern in the center carrying four flags (one for each team, one for the school, and one for Japan).<br />
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Most of my time during this week I alternately sat in the bleachers watching the kids practice, or I moved around equipment that for some reason was stored in high places that nobody else could reach. I occasionally got to fire the gun to start races. My favorite was watching the kids practice, because I got to see them try the games before they were any good at them. Here are some of my favorite events:<br />
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Centipede racing</div>
This is where 6 kids line up as if they're in a chain gang and have their ankles tied together with bicycle innertubes. They then get in a conga line and race each other. People didn't actually fall down as much as I would have liked, but when they did it was spectacular. I can't post pictures of my students, but here is an image that I shamelessly stole from the internet.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="240" id="irc_mi" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/1/94/240365397_8b1f2a4fc5_z.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nobody actually got hurt too badly from this at my school so I'm not a terrible person.</td></tr>
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17 person 3-legged race</div>
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This was probably my second favorite. It's exactly what it sounds like. 17 girls line up side-by-side, tied together tightly at the ankles, and then try to navigate a slalom course at high speeds. This never goes well. They have to count in to start, which involves all of them jumping up and down and chanting, which is funny in itself. Then if one girl hesitates a little, or if they have slightly different ideas on how far each leg will step, the whole chain has to stop. If they stop at different times, then everyone falls over. It's hilarious. Then they have to shuffle to get back in position, which usually means that other people will fall down in the process. It can take several minutes for a hundred meter course with a few difficult turns.</div>
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35 person jump rope</div>
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This is just lining a ton of people up and getting them to jump in unison over a giant jump rope. The teachers have to coach the kids here, because they've seen this year after year and they know what works and what doesn't. The rest of the festival is run by the kids. Each class has to jump over the rope as many times as they can in 2 minutes. The first years have never done this before, and they have 35 people in their class. They got 3 times in two minutes.</div>
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Tamaire (ball toss?)</div>
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In this, you take a basket, and put it on a pole that is about 20 feet tall, then you give the teams of about 65 students a ton of soft(ish) balls and a 2 minute time limit. This consists of a storm of balls being tossed not very skillfully (and often not even high enough) and landing on the faces of the people on the other side of the pole, who are also tossing balls into the basket. I held the pole up on the actual day of the event for the parents round (twice as many people - two parents per kid), and I am still traumatized from how many times I got hit in the head and shoulders.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="213" id="irc_mi" src="https://ssl-stat.amebame.com/pub/content/8265872137/user/article/21417251585481880/e8837c620c1752c5f0d6ce8843a0d436/cached.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">imagine this but with 65 students per basket, and a way larger supply of balls. It looks like confetti from far away.</td></tr>
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Human Pyramid</div>
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This is far and away my favorite. Human pyramids in the US, I realize, are insanely boring and safe. I've never done one higher than three people high. They do have a section where they do three people high pyramids, but they jump into them in less than a second from everyone lying down or crouching. Our human pyramids are also very limited in that they are two dimensional. The students at my school did have some two dimensional pyramids, and they got up to five people high, which takes 15 people. The secret there was climbing up from the side rather than the back, and being very organized so the pyramid could be built quickly. </div>
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But wait, you say. Don't the kids get hurt and fall down?</div>
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Yes. All the time. So many kids fell down from the top I felt that it was raining men during pyramid practice (hallelujah!). However, they actually never got hurt from that. One kid did somehow manage to dislocate his shoulder from being on the bottom for too long. Of course they never considered stopping. There was a five high human pyramid built in a circle with the top three levels standing up, which was crazy. The finale was a 7 person high pyramid with a triangle base.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="375" id="irc_mi" src="https://katrinainjapan.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/pyramid1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 9px;" width="500" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This looks almost exactly like the one at my school, except they were all boys and wearing blue shorts.</td></tr>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
On Friday after school, I was told many of the teachers would go to "take a bath" together, so I decide to join them. We have a staff party planned for Saturday, but I thought it couldn't hurt to get to know some of the teachers beforehand. So us males go to a Japanese public bath, and wash ourselves together for way longer than I thought necessary. We go into a hot tub, sit for a while, and then come out and take a sitting-down shower next to each other. As one of the teachers makes sure to point out, we all have penises. We also go into another bath with flavored tea water, which apparently is invigorating for my pores.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
After the bath, we go to a traditional Japanese restaurant where I am again caught in a no-chair situation. I only have about 40 minutes of cross-legged sitting in me, and stretching my legs out under the table causes me to accidentally get to know my coworkers a little too well. Halfway through the dinner, my coworkers decide that I should "sit between the beautiful women." Thinking they were joking, I laugh, however I was eventually told by everyone again to please stand up and go over there. So I did. Everyone's always looking out for my best interests here I suppose. I drove to this event, so I am not drinking because in Japan it is illegal to have even one beer and then drive. However, some of the other teachers are getting quite sloshed.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cXubeSKGnK0/VB2fE1uL2LI/AAAAAAAAAO8/8erCRKtXnGA/s1600/IMG_0236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cXubeSKGnK0/VB2fE1uL2LI/AAAAAAAAAO8/8erCRKtXnGA/s1600/IMG_0236.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sloshed teacher in his natural habitat.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After we leave the restaurant, somehow everyone decides that it is a good idea to pick up some beer at a convenience store and go back to the middle school to drink it. We then proceed to sit at the same desks we are all at during work, and finish the beer that we bought. The vice principal is even sitting at his position at the head of all the desks, so it feels vaguely like a morning meeting, except that one of the teachers just threw up in the students' bathroom. He decides to sleep in the teacher's lounge, and is ready to roll for Sports Festival the next morning at 7:00. Way to hold it together, teaching staff.<br />
<br />
When actual Sports Day comes, everything pretty much goes as planned. Blue team wins, probably because they have this excellent banner:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADnOCjnlRTg/VB2ijZxzKGI/AAAAAAAAAPI/bcEIga9SX7I/s1600/IMG_0233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADnOCjnlRTg/VB2ijZxzKGI/AAAAAAAAAPI/bcEIga9SX7I/s1600/IMG_0233.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It looks surprisingly angry considering its wings are made of rainbows.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After the sports day, we have another staff party, which it turns out involves another bath. I am so clean. This is an expensive event, and the dinner that we eat is served on two million plates, each with one slice of pickled vegetable on it. We are being served by women wearing the traditional <i>yukata</i> (what we think of as a kimono - I'll try to keep the pretentious italics to a minimum). One thing that I think is pretty cool is this basket. It has a flame underneath it, and when the flame runs out, that means that it is done cooking. Unfortunately, its contents turn out to be one mushroom.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VNoJ0IqQBsk/VB2mGdoOmgI/AAAAAAAAAPU/zEv94XiT8X8/s1600/IMG_0235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VNoJ0IqQBsk/VB2mGdoOmgI/AAAAAAAAAPU/zEv94XiT8X8/s1600/IMG_0235.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was a good mushroom.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
During the dinner, everyone gives a speech about how they thought the Sports Festival went. Unfortunately everyone sits in Japanese tea ceremony style (sitting on your ankles) during these toasts. After the first two, I am told by the guy next to me that if I have to make that face when I sit like that, then I should find a different way to sit. Also unfortunately, this toast thing includes me. After a few sentences in attempted Japanese, I am informed that I should just speak in English, and the English teacher will translate.<br />
<br />
After the dinner, I am about to get a ride home with the one of the older teachers, when someone runs out and pulls me out of the car, and informs me that I am not done drinking yet. The younger teachers and I go out for beer and dumplings, which turns out to be delicious. I have a great time, and I desperately wish I could speak better Japanese to be able to fit in and understand even basic questions directed at me. I am definitely going to enjoy working with these people.<br />
<br />
As a closing note, these are some bathroom slippers I saw at the staff party:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QQbu27OJXHo/VB2peGSyOnI/AAAAAAAAAPg/8XOyrEnF_LA/s1600/IMG_0237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QQbu27OJXHo/VB2peGSyOnI/AAAAAAAAAPg/8XOyrEnF_LA/s1600/IMG_0237.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greenpeace isn't my favorite NGO, but I wouldn't make a slipper about it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
Picture Credits:</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Darrell McIndoe, Flickr</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
spotlight-media.jp</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
katrinainjapan.wordpress.com (someone who had my same job, but didn't feel an obligation to comply with rules about posting pictures of students)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-13290778000748229192014-09-06T21:59:00.000+09:002014-09-06T21:59:21.059+09:007. Stand! Ready! Bow! (aka my first week at school)This past week marked the start of my work at the middle school I'll be at for the next 6 months. It was pretty wild and I'm super exhausted! Ok I'll spare you the whining. The other teachers said my main challenge would be staving off boredom, which has not been an issue at all so far. I'm not allowed to post pictures from work, so here's some completely unrelated pictures to satisfy those of you who can't read:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UJvTyBuUpy8/VAmcEUyrNJI/AAAAAAAAANI/mGCKNNxBsy0/s1600/IMG_0073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UJvTyBuUpy8/VAmcEUyrNJI/AAAAAAAAANI/mGCKNNxBsy0/s1600/IMG_0073.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Actually it's alright, but it's hard to get over the name. Please note the slogan on the yellow bottle to the right as well.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5SfrCvDu_JA/VAmcoRKPH0I/AAAAAAAAANQ/4m2Qq4kJnZI/s1600/DSCN0346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5SfrCvDu_JA/VAmcoRKPH0I/AAAAAAAAANQ/4m2Qq4kJnZI/s1600/DSCN0346.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are statues of Buddhas or something (Hindu gods? That doesn't make sense. They do have a lot of arms though)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ViUiIJb6chk/VAmcoTtRLFI/AAAAAAAAANU/YUpwmMuQz8Y/s1600/DSCN0348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ViUiIJb6chk/VAmcoTtRLFI/AAAAAAAAANU/YUpwmMuQz8Y/s1600/DSCN0348.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They're all standing or sitting. Except this guy, who really needs his beauty rest. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anyway,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>Day 1</u></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
As I arrive at school, I am introduced to my desk and to a very enthusiastic woman in front of me who immediately says all the English words she knows in a row (hello! Thank you! Goodbye! My! name! is! Kishimoto! Nicetomeetyou!). Certain teachers who speak English come over and say hi, including the principal. In the morning meeting, the principal says a few facts about me and asks me to introduce myself with my prepared Japanese speech. In his introduction of me, he has just told everybody about 3/4 of what I was going to say. I forge ahead blindly! Before lunch, I am told the students clean their classrooms. I offer to help, thinking it will help me bond with the students. I get to the class just in time to see them start. They all get in position, move all the desks all to one side, and sweep the other. Then a few of them push towels while they run across the floor instead of mopping. Then they change sides and repeat. It seems very efficient. Little do I realize that this will be the most coordinated version of this I will ever see. Usually it's three kids working and the rest standing and giggling.<br />
<br />
I am told there is no school lunch today and I immediately panic. Fortunately, the other English teachers decide to take me out to lunch at a very traditional Japanese restaurant. Unfortunately this means that there are no chairs, but it's cool. I've sat on my butt before. On the drive over, this conversation happens in English:<br />
"Mr. Hirota, tell me about your trip to Poland to visit your girlfriend" (they call each other Mr. all the time)<br />
"Ok. We went to a good museum and I learned about fish"<br />
"No Mr. Hirota! That is boring! I want to hear interesting things. So does Nate."<br />
"Ok. I met her parents for the first time. They are nice. She has a good family."<br />
"Sure, Mr. Hirota, sure. Please tell us the interesting part!"<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, neither I or Mr. Hirota knew what that meant (or at least we weren't willing to guess).<br />
All in all, a good first day.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-haijdYckLv4/VAr-Szt9i7I/AAAAAAAAAOI/No2Gsbt-R5E/s1600/IMG_0111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-haijdYckLv4/VAr-Szt9i7I/AAAAAAAAAOI/No2Gsbt-R5E/s1600/IMG_0111.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was on the outside of my car when I left for school, and on the inside when I got there. After growing up watching a lot of nature documentaries, I knew not to mate with it cause it might bite my head off.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>Day 2</u></div>
<br />
I mostly spend the second day grading summer homework. Many girls wrote about their favorite band, which was usually this:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img class="irc_mut" height="177" src="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQdpVUR9ZnJOQROuOV6cdmgx2TIrPlkreQ7Te7el5qE60FwO_TEgQ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px;" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a band
formed by a corporation that auditioned members considering the
"sexiness of men" according to wikipedia. Members range from age 14 to
20 years old. There are more suggestive pictures of them, but I thought
I'd spare you.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The homework has a multitude of fun English moments in it, some of which I will recreate now. This was probably my favorite snippet: <br />
<br />
"I saw a movie. The title is Transformers. It was very moving." (was it really?)<br />
ALSO<br />
"abusive language may sometimes be vomited to a friend." <br />
<br />
Many of the students had to write about their plans for the future. A lot of the resulting sentences sounded quite profound. Here are a few of those sentences put back to back as if they were an overly artistic poem. <br />
-------<br />
I exist a lot now in the world<br />
that is an animal. I play baseball in hot middle inevitable<br />
death. There are a lot of future. But<br />
after hurry the future,<br />
just I die.<br />
<br />
Blindness in one eye is improvement<br />
in crime prevention consciousness.<br />
The words of transformation<br />
are both<br />
a shield protecting a person<br />
and a pike making a lifetime wound. <br />
It is no use: I never split open<br />
even when I play the piano.<br />
------<br />
I have my first school lunch with the students today. It's probably more awkward than my first lunch period in high school. Here is my attempt at conversation:<br />
"Hello"<br />
[giggles with friend]<br />
"do you play sports?"<br />
[talks to friends to confirm what I say. Her friend translates what I said. First student looks at me, then looks down and resumes eating]<br />
"What is your favorite movie?"<br />
[no response]<br />
<br />
I come away from lunch with a strong desire for connection in some way with the students, since I will be eating with them all year. Later this will influence my decision to tell the students that my favorite band is One Direction. I should probably listen to at least one song of theirs.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>Day 3</u></div>
<br />
The third day, I have my first class that I "teach." For the first week, I just give 50 minute long presentations about myself. I have thrown in some juggling, music, and magic tricks into these presentations because I don't want to be boring. Hopefully they won't catch the sexual innuendo in the lyrics of the song I'm playing. Turns out not even the teachers have a hope of understanding much wordplay in English.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if this happens every class, but every time I am present, the class starts with "Stand! Ready! Bow!" and all the students bow, which is weird to me. The presentation goes fairly decently, but when I go to lunch with the students, it is just as awkward as the day before.<br />
<br />
One thing I forgot to mention is the structure of lunch. All the students wait (relatively quietly) outside the cafeteria while the lunch ladies set out a lunch tray for everyone. Then someone announces: "first years, please proceed quietly." Etc with all the students. Everyone brings their own chopsticks and spoon, and when lunch ends, everyone breaks down and cleans out their own milk carton. Then they sort the dishes into different piles (they are required to eat every last bit of food that they have on their plates). They put the plastic straws into their original wrappers and put them all in a designated container. It's very methodical.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wIsy-f8oXw4/VAr1gqynPuI/AAAAAAAAANo/lBz_wHRlcnU/s1600/DSCN0432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wIsy-f8oXw4/VAr1gqynPuI/AAAAAAAAANo/lBz_wHRlcnU/s1600/DSCN0432.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are my utensils. Chopsticks are still the biggest obstacle to me getting enough to eat here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>Day 4</u></div>
<br />
I have presentations all day (5 total, 50 minutes each). I think the English teachers are tired of hearing about my life. Today the students are much more responsive. Apparently it was just the third year class from yesterday (15 years old) that think they are too cool for me. The one handicapped student in the school asks to have lunch with me today, so I sit at his table and have a great conversation in English. He tells me he wants to be an English teacher, but they won't let him study abroad (at least right now) because he's in a wheelchair. He also tells me that he is on the tennis team, which is super cool.<br />
<br />
In the evening, I meet a guy who plays South American wood flute and panpipes and a guy who plays guitar. They seem keen to play music together at some point so we'll see if that 'pans' out (ok that was dumb, sorry). It turns out I need to buy more clothes for work. I head to the store and get some short sleeve "cool biz" shirts (that's what the summer dress code is called). While I'm there, I pick up this gem as well.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pU5n6kA4fRU/VAr6S5bclVI/AAAAAAAAAN8/OGTW8gsQ10I/s1600/DSCN0416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pU5n6kA4fRU/VAr6S5bclVI/AAAAAAAAAN8/OGTW8gsQ10I/s1600/DSCN0416.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the "since 1879" and the picture of the Volkswagen bus.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>Day 5</u></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Today I go to elementary school in the morning. I am a celebrity because of my height and willingness to make sound effects and funny faces. Immediately after my first presentation, I am swarmed by small children who literally drag me out to the field and do a complicated eeny-meeny-miny-moe to pick teams. Then we play the extent of soccer that 6-year-olds can play. After a few more presentations, I go back to the middle school and have a great, conversational lunch with teachers and students. One of the male teachers likes to tell me often that I am a handsome guy and that I should come to basketball club sometime. We'll see how that goes. I am terrible at basketball, despite my height and apparent attractiveness to the middle-age Japanese male math teacher demographic.<br />
<br />
OMG SPORTS FESTIVAL PRACTICE! In the afternoon, they begin practice for sports festival, which involves no team sports of the conventional kind. They do partner acrobatics, human pyramids, and some kind of thing which involves throwing yourself on the ground creatively whenever the PE teacher blows the whistle. It actually looks pretty cool. They also do this thing where they all wear black coats with white on the inside, and sit on bleachers. Then they chant and beat drums. On certain beats, certain children open the coats as if they were flashing the audience (they are wearing clothes obviously) which makes certain letters and shapes appear in black and white. They change shapes/letters every beat - it is very cool, if you can understand at all what I'm saying there.<br />
<br />
A great first week. I am excited for the next, and for the sports festival and ensuing staff party.<br />
<br />
Here are some random pictures:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7irlK3VVklo/VAr_0sI3vWI/AAAAAAAAAOU/XOhFCdT94FE/s1600/IMG_0120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7irlK3VVklo/VAr_0sI3vWI/AAAAAAAAAOU/XOhFCdT94FE/s1600/IMG_0120.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hmmm. These remind me of something, but I can't put my finger in it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-18g_BrVyDuo/VAr_31yJHEI/AAAAAAAAAOc/RQoNRY4H1gg/s1600/IMG_0121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-18g_BrVyDuo/VAr_31yJHEI/AAAAAAAAAOc/RQoNRY4H1gg/s1600/IMG_0121.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The worst part is that this actually describes perfectly what is in the package and I'm a terrible person for laughing at it. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UHLVlcq_V4E/VAr_4xP_bGI/AAAAAAAAAOk/yXd3gLkwNvo/s1600/IMG_0122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UHLVlcq_V4E/VAr_4xP_bGI/AAAAAAAAAOk/yXd3gLkwNvo/s1600/IMG_0122.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You too should be part of "Association of ProtectNature" if you aren't already.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-41907934181609574032014-08-17T15:08:00.001+09:002014-08-17T15:09:50.469+09:006. Knee-hone-go and ingurishu (aka communication troubles)I have been studying Japanese furiously, but somehow not making too much progress. I have a myriad of study tools that my predecessor left me, including these great flashcards that are made for little kids. I studied them on the train down to Osaka, and at one point I dropped them at the feet of this old lady who chuckled as she handed them back.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3yRasruQcgk/U-d0XzLQ9WI/AAAAAAAAAKs/mpP9zuM9I8k/s1600/DSCN0339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3yRasruQcgk/U-d0XzLQ9WI/AAAAAAAAAKs/mpP9zuM9I8k/s1600/DSCN0339.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't study this one because I hear this word muttered wherever I go.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Reading Japanese is next to impossible, because all of the nouns, verbs, and adjectives are written in the Chinese alphabet, which has a different symbol for each word. Even when it is written in one of the phonetic alphabets, sometimes it's in some weird font. This says "ramen," but you'd never know it.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nonzTq5pFoA/U-d2NUCgohI/AAAAAAAAAK4/dTOkap1H7rI/s1600/DSCN0278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nonzTq5pFoA/U-d2NUCgohI/AAAAAAAAAK4/dTOkap1H7rI/s1600/DSCN0278.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why did we give the calligraphy brush to our 3-year-old?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here are just a few things that I have recently learned about Japanese that I thought might be interesting.<br />
<br />
-The symbol for "like/love" is the symbol for 'woman' next to the symbol for 'child.' Cause you know, chicks love kids.<br />
<br />
-The word for "clean" is the same word for "pretty." I feel like that idea is engrained in the culture as well. <br />
<br />
-The symbol for "tomorrow" is the symbol for 'bright' followed by the symbol for 'day.' Awww, that's so optimistic, Japanese!<br />
<br />
-Mountains are people too! On certain mountains (high ones?), you add the same honorific you add after a person's name (it's not the same symbol, but when you say it aloud it sounds the same). Mr. Fuji, Mr. Everest. It could be a woman too I guess, I'm not trying to be sexist.<br />
<br />
-Speaking of sexist, the symbol for "content" is a woman in a house. Also, one of the symbols for "wife" is the symbol for "woman" next to "inside."<br />
<br />
The Japanese people in my town have had ample opportunity to laugh at me attempting to communicate in their native tongue. I find it only fair that I get to find amusement in some of the English writing I see around. Here are some of my favorite uses of Engrish so far:<br />
<br />
Invitation from my supervisor:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7m16gpCBRJE/U-WHXTl2BvI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/k7pgAqG7PVY/s1600/Invitation+from+Komori.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7m16gpCBRJE/U-WHXTl2BvI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/k7pgAqG7PVY/s1600/Invitation+from+Komori.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, I am convenient. How did you know?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This sign near my house:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9EKGrEHnyyQ/U_BF_-jWXaI/AAAAAAAAAM0/Adv8gVGqcBY/s1600/DSCN0381.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9EKGrEHnyyQ/U_BF_-jWXaI/AAAAAAAAAM0/Adv8gVGqcBY/s1600/DSCN0381.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This isn't wrong, but for some reason I enjoy it immensely.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My contract, of course:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Wf--k9VHms/U-WGzbUObPI/AAAAAAAAAKI/P4CWMAZZaQw/s1600/Contract+Jury.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Wf--k9VHms/U-WGzbUObPI/AAAAAAAAAKI/P4CWMAZZaQw/s1600/Contract+Jury.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See you guys next Jury!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And finally, this shirt I saw in the mall:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BzCBEeIG4kc/U-dxEwE-XxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/vXVtsb7ZqZw/s1600/DSCN0336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BzCBEeIG4kc/U-dxEwE-XxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/vXVtsb7ZqZw/s1600/DSCN0336.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tag on it says, "Value." I wonder why.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Some other T-shirts I've seen that I enjoyed:<br />
<br />
-(in huge letters): I HAVE A DEEP RESPECT AND LOVE TO NATURE<br />
-"It knows the limit of the possible: all people have wonderful courage."<br />
-"Dirtee Hollywood"<br />
-"Got Drugs? I don't"<br />
-This was on the side of a bus: "Boys be ambitious."<br />
<br />
I'm sure I'll see lots more of these, so I'll try to throw them in where I can. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-5625428517736737812014-08-12T21:12:00.001+09:002014-08-12T21:12:43.467+09:005. Home is where the art is (aka shrines and signs) Today I'm stuck inside because we're in the middle of a typhoon, and water is trying to flood the roads but being foiled by really excellent drainage systems. Not just efficient at drainage, but also creative in their decor:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n_baWGWKnYI/U-d5HirYcnI/AAAAAAAAALE/1xXfNO6dYhI/s1600/DSCN0308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n_baWGWKnYI/U-d5HirYcnI/AAAAAAAAALE/1xXfNO6dYhI/s1600/DSCN0308.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This gutter is filled with koi (carp), and also has statues of everyone from Micky Mouse to Pikachu to Godzilla</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So I thought I'd show off some pictures I took when rain wasn't omnipresent. Tamba is a small farming town "out in the middle of nowhere," which in Japan means two hours away from a major city. I feel much less isolated than I was prepared for. The architecture in general is really cool - most of the houses look very traditionally Japanese, and there are tons of shrines and temples.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jvwhZhqoJZU/U-d-7sZv5hI/AAAAAAAAALU/_jcwYwohZIg/s1600/DSCN0267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jvwhZhqoJZU/U-d-7sZv5hI/AAAAAAAAALU/_jcwYwohZIg/s1600/DSCN0267.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are my neighbors. Their house would look more traditional if it wasn't blue and yellow.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here's a some pictures of various shrines and temples around town:<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="height: 248px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 230px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G6yyVJHDuQM/U-d_no2GiTI/AAAAAAAAALs/_NWw87FF8pA/s1600/DSCN0258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G6yyVJHDuQM/U-d_no2GiTI/AAAAAAAAALs/_NWw87FF8pA/s1600/DSCN0258.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monks gotta have wheels too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UMLNJuWyHrg/U-eBRTUkVOI/AAAAAAAAAMY/D0r1lbYXgZI/s1600/DSCN0296.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UMLNJuWyHrg/U-eBRTUkVOI/AAAAAAAAAMY/D0r1lbYXgZI/s1600/DSCN0296.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close up of the bell at the pagoda on the<br />
left. Somehow I didn't pull it. I must be <br />
a damn good person or something.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--d_5nFz4lG0/U-eAPzMvwcI/AAAAAAAAAMM/zziXGavBSCk/s1600/DSCN0295.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--d_5nFz4lG0/U-eAPzMvwcI/AAAAAAAAAMM/zziXGavBSCk/s1600/DSCN0295.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've always wanted pagoda Japan! Too far, sorry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UMLNJuWyHrg/U-eBRTUkVOI/AAAAAAAAAMY/D0r1lbYXgZI/s1600/DSCN0296.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-db3aG2_eq5k/U-eDJBBC7LI/AAAAAAAAAMk/R5UxJJo464c/s1600/DSCN0321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-db3aG2_eq5k/U-eDJBBC7LI/AAAAAAAAAMk/R5UxJJo464c/s1600/DSCN0321.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Am I allowed to go in? I decided forgiveness is easier to get than permission.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
For some reason, all the street signs are particularly cutesy and cartoony. Even the ones telling you not to litter or you'll get a fine look very friendly. I think this one says something like "let's keep the town clean!"</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kkx3jmWJAc8/U-d_h2unJ1I/AAAAAAAAALc/_K3re4H2XD0/s1600/DSCN0256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kkx3jmWJAc8/U-d_h2unJ1I/AAAAAAAAALc/_K3re4H2XD0/s1600/DSCN0256.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If Rafael the soda can is able to pick up trash, you can too.<br />
His arms are just metaphors. You have real ones.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There's this tree in "downtown" Tamba whose roots form the base of a bridge over a river. It has some sort of spiritual, Shinto significance that I would probably understand if I could speak Japanese.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MG5M457jQ08/U-d_nvA4SGI/AAAAAAAAALw/DESR-0-ml_Q/s1600/DSCN0259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MG5M457jQ08/U-d_nvA4SGI/AAAAAAAAALw/DESR-0-ml_Q/s1600/DSCN0259.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It needs those stabilizing beams because it's so old. At least <br />
that's what it says to cover its drinking problem.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YXx0USMHofc/U-d_y7291OI/AAAAAAAAAME/MV30bFP_XqI/s1600/DSCN0275.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YXx0USMHofc/U-d_y7291OI/AAAAAAAAAME/MV30bFP_XqI/s1600/DSCN0275.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's even on the manhole covers!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
All in all, it's a pretty cool town. I'm pretty happy I'm here, despite not being able to communicate with anyone really. Yet!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-10398708412009249862014-08-06T23:39:00.000+09:002014-08-06T23:39:45.592+09:004. An undisclosed location (aka doorframes and toilets)Here is my apartment, in all its disarray!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="height: 150px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 464px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vUAWuhwBDsk/U-BGZzphJ1I/AAAAAAAAAIg/kxrUX7aBtyY/s1600/IMG_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vUAWuhwBDsk/U-BGZzphJ1I/AAAAAAAAAIg/kxrUX7aBtyY/s1600/IMG_0004.jpg" height="111" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at me taking panorama pictures like a champ. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
So I inherited (by which I mean paid a small amount of money for) a lot of things from the old English teacher that used to live in my apartment, and some things just came with the apartment when he got it. I haven't figured out what a lot of them are, and here are some of my favorites:<br />
<br />
1. Brand new, never-been-used octopus cooker<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UqK48RjpIHg/U-BFtaDwEmI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/mNgCB-tkVlI/s1600/DSCN0288.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UqK48RjpIHg/U-BFtaDwEmI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/mNgCB-tkVlI/s1600/DSCN0288.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is this for cooking octopus, or for octopuses with a culinary inclination?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
2. Small circular object with a bunch of nails (pointy end) sticking out of it. Looks like a brush, but they are NAILS. Ow why did I try that on my head?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fLkDL33Sq4g/U-BGSoWFZ1I/AAAAAAAAAIY/0ZuM-msC5iA/s1600/DSCN0289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fLkDL33Sq4g/U-BGSoWFZ1I/AAAAAAAAAIY/0ZuM-msC5iA/s1600/DSCN0289.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of you probably know what this is. Please let me know.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
3. Radio that doesn't have a tuning dial. It is plugged in, but it doesn't turn off when I unplug it because it has a battery. The first evening I was here, it made a beeping sound, turned itself on, and a voice in Japanese started speaking. After a few minutes, it turned itself off. I didn't really catch any of the words, but I was a little alarmed and I was worried it was a tsunami alert system or something.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6zKQVmpVGy0/U-BJkCFjDZI/AAAAAAAAAI4/ZliPyXwP1II/s1600/DSCN0292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6zKQVmpVGy0/U-BJkCFjDZI/AAAAAAAAAI4/ZliPyXwP1II/s1600/DSCN0292.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harbinger of doom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
4. Speaker with a pull string. When I pull it, a woman speaks in Japanese. It's right next to the pull string for the light in my bedroom (if you can call it a bedroom - see below), so I've pulled it quite a few times even by mistake. Later I learned that this is an emergency call system. Apparently someone is supposed to come to your apartment if you pull it. No one busted down my door, which is good I guess, but maybe disturbing too.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OMeZYGvOOjY/U-BJwoxEfnI/AAAAAAAAAJA/Tsq47a4gNtE/s1600/DSCN0290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OMeZYGvOOjY/U-BJwoxEfnI/AAAAAAAAAJA/Tsq47a4gNtE/s1600/DSCN0290.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I thought these were for nursing homes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
5. This was described to me as an electric table/blanket. Which doesn't make any sense, but now that I saw it is probably how I would describe it too. It's a table where the tabletop part comes off and you're left with a frame with a heater attached. You stick a blanket over that part, stick the tabletop back on, and then sit with your legs under the table and never leave the house until spring comes.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img class="irc_mut" height="150" 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" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px;" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's called a <i>kotatsu</i>. There will be a quiz later.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The doorframes in my apartment are all right above eye level but definitely within solid head-smashing territory; this is a dangerous and stealthy zone for them to be in. So far my morning trips to the bathroom in the first four mornings I have lived here have gone as follows:<br />
<br />
Day 1 - Smashed my head on the doorframe.<br />
Day 2 - Smashed my head on the doorframe.<br />
Day 3 - Dodged the first two doorframes (yes!), then really slammed into the third one.<br />
Day 4 - Crawled on the floor to the bathroom. Got there safely.<br />
<br />
Toilets in Japan are super nice. The toilet we had in the hotel had 3 bidet settings (little butt spray, big butt spray, front spray for women), adjustable water pressure for the bidet, a heated seat, a big/little dual flush system, and a pressure-sensitive seat that sprayed deodorizer into the toilet whenever you sat down. The public toilets in the lobby also had a little button that made a flushing noise when you push it to cover up any farting you may want to do. My toilet in the apartment is pretty cool too, but it is in such a small room that if I sit down my knees are crammed against the door. So I close the curtains when I poop and just leave the door open. Hopefully I don't have to poop when people are over.<br />
<br />
The toilet in my apartment also has this genius feature that every toilet in the world should incorporate. When you flush, the water that fills up the tank comes out of a little sink on top of the toilet, so as you wash your hands, the drained water fills the toilet tank. DOUBLE WATER USAGE! BAM! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w--SxvwWNtI/U-BHH4qv0QI/AAAAAAAAAIs/bSNhCM94FUg/s1600/DSCN0273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w--SxvwWNtI/U-BHH4qv0QI/AAAAAAAAAIs/bSNhCM94FUg/s1600/DSCN0273.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Art.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So apparently the way most Japanese people sleep is in a bamboo mat (tatami) room, and they put a thin pad deceptively known as a futon underneath them every night. They (we, I suppose, because that's what I'm doing for the moment) have to remove the futon during the day so the bamboo mats can air out. Otherwise they mold. Basically, the moral is, beds are better. How's that for cultural insensitivity.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YG36IiPw7_w/U98N5OpF6PI/AAAAAAAAAH8/bFZPJpf5k6c/s1600/DSCN0250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YG36IiPw7_w/U98N5OpF6PI/AAAAAAAAAH8/bFZPJpf5k6c/s1600/DSCN0250.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is my tatami room. Good for daily headstand practice, not so good for sleeping.</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-80183257555389759452014-08-05T13:27:00.000+09:002014-08-05T13:32:01.875+09:003. Wake me up before you Hyogo (aka bad puns and bullet trains)So the morning that we are supposed to leave for our respective cities, I tell my roommate to wake me up whenever he gets up. Turns out he was in the military for 5 years and wakes up at 5:30 every day. It's cool - I go downstairs and have enough time for two breakfasts before I leave at 8:30.<br />
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Before we get on the train, we are sent to buy a boxed at a convenience store in the station. I tell somebody, "man this all looks super processed." They then inform me that I am looking at plastic models of the food that I will be buying. I feel smart already.<br />
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Turns out we get to take the bullet train (<i>Shinkansen</i>, for those of you who like words in italics) to our prefecture, Hyogo. It looks fast even when it's standing still.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D9SFGDuBLjI/U-BSffbx-4I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/UU_ZYFLyQiw/s1600/bullet+train.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D9SFGDuBLjI/U-BSffbx-4I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/UU_ZYFLyQiw/s1600/bullet+train.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More like shin-CAN'T-sen. Am I right? no? OK sorry.</td></tr>
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The train at its fastest goes about 300kph, or one mile every 19 seconds. The countryside whizzes by so fast it's hard to even look at the houses we go past. Because the track is raised about 20 feet off the ground often, it kind of looks like I'm in a really low-flying plane.<br />
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When we get to the station near Osaka, a man from our prefecture picks us up in his car. He doesn't really speak English, and we don't really speak Japanese. I launch into my formal introduction that I was supposed to prepare and memorize, but he cuts me off and makes a joke about how "Nate" sounds like "net" as in "internet," then he calls me "internet-san" for maybe a little longer than it was funny. At least he will remember my name, I think. Turns out not.<br />
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The board of education is where we go to sign a lot of papers we don't understand. It's full of dinosaur pictures. My compatriots (who did more research about this place than me) tell me that dinosaur bones were discovered in Tanba (Tamba? it's spelled different every time) and it's kind of Tanba's only claim to fame. "Chitan" is our town's mascot. He is a dinosaur that looks a lot like Barney. He is striped to apparently represent the layers of dirt from which the dinosaur bones were excavated, and has a plant coming out of his head to represent the surface.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fg9yy3hryss/U-BYct7flzI/AAAAAAAAAJg/K_sDKVSdAAQ/s1600/DSCN0260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fg9yy3hryss/U-BYct7flzI/AAAAAAAAAJg/K_sDKVSdAAQ/s1600/DSCN0260.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chitan is everywhere here and endemic to the Tanba region. The flowers are indigenous to a plastic factory in Taiwan. </td></tr>
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Later that day, one of the departing teachers takes us out to dinner at a conveyor belt sushi place, because we don't have any food in our apartments and we have no way to get around. It is delicious and only a dollar per plate. We have a computer at our table and we can order plates that will get sent around on the conveyor belt with a marker for our table. So cool. To pay, the waitress stacks our plates and uses a measuring tape to figure out how much we owe.<br />
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The departing teacher then takes us grocery shopping because she's a saint. I have no idea what anything is because for some reason they labeled everything in Japanese. I eventually buy rice, eggs, something that looks like oats, and apples. Rice is really expensive here for some reason, despite rice fields being everywhere in Tanba:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8kJ7Pm-MN1I/U-Bba1POINI/AAAAAAAAAJs/cy5r93w3s-o/s1600/DSCN0277.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8kJ7Pm-MN1I/U-Bba1POINI/AAAAAAAAAJs/cy5r93w3s-o/s1600/DSCN0277.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, downtown is a perfect place for a rice patty that is a third the size of a soccer field.</td></tr>
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The next day I realize I have nothing to put on my oats (also they take an hour to cook? what the heck?) so I dig through what my predecessor left me and find some chocolate sauce. It's going to be a good year.<br />
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Here's a picture of my part of Tanba I took on a short hike:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rL3PrzcJaAo/U-BcdLhn_oI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/wcYZOUbGhZw/s1600/DSCN0282.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rL3PrzcJaAo/U-BcdLhn_oI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/wcYZOUbGhZw/s1600/DSCN0282.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Photo credits: gojapango.com, meAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-828154639189809872014-08-03T10:59:00.000+09:002014-08-03T11:23:41.884+09:002. Deep Fried Cock China-style (aka immaturity and gambling)The hotel we are staying at in Tokyo is right next to this weird building:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4F7szkfPxmM/U92J7_GZePI/AAAAAAAAAF4/yFPM_71xMgc/s1600/cocoon+tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4F7szkfPxmM/U92J7_GZePI/AAAAAAAAAF4/yFPM_71xMgc/s1600/cocoon+tower.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, Cocoon Tower, those support beams do make your butt look big.</td></tr>
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Tokyo is by far the biggest city I've ever been to, with 13.5 million people. The next runners up are New York and Lima with 8.5 million each. Unfortunately, we are in the hotel most of the time for mandatory orientation activities, so I didn't get to visit too many things in Tokyo. The first night we were there, four of us go out on the town. Tokyo has tons of back alleyways that look like this:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-14-dL4Uv2aU/U92MqKTBf3I/AAAAAAAAAGU/0IpLakAtKXw/s1600/alley+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-14-dL4Uv2aU/U92MqKTBf3I/AAAAAAAAAGU/0IpLakAtKXw/s1600/alley+2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes cars drive down roads like this, surprisingly. Unsurprisingly, it is awkward and they are difficult to avoid.</td></tr>
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We find a cheap place to eat (restaurants in Japan seem much less expensive than those in the US) that had pictures on the menu and questionable English translations of the other items. The six pictures look like:</div>
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1) ramen with a bowl of rice on the left side</div>
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2) ramen with a bowl of rice on the right side</div>
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3) ramen with a bowl of half rice, half red sauce </div>
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4) ramen with a bowl of 3/4 rice, 1/4 red sauce</div>
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5) bigger bowl of ramen, smaller bowl of rice</div>
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6) smaller bowl of ramen, bigger bowl of rice</div>
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And some people say there's not enough variety at ramen restaurants. psssh! I'm not that hungry because of the quesadillas and sandwiches listed in the last post, some of which I had stowed in the minifridge of the hotel room. So I take a look at the poorly translated appetizers, of which my favorite is "Deep Fried Cock China-style" which I order for obvious reasons. They almost seem intentionally misspelled; "dumpling" is spelled four different ways on the first page alone.</div>
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Later, one of the more shy guys we are with suggests that we all try something that we are uncomfortable with tonight. Not sure what he's getting at (still not sure!), I say, "well I've never gambled officially!" So we head to a Pachinko parlor.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3BYkbkAIn9c/U92ROX4UBaI/AAAAAAAAAGg/A9ywU_feFm8/s1600/pachinko.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3BYkbkAIn9c/U92ROX4UBaI/AAAAAAAAAGg/A9ywU_feFm8/s1600/pachinko.jpg" height="169" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slot machines set up to look like a pinball game.</td></tr>
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None of us really speaks Japanese, so an attendant comes over to help us because we are confused foreigners. I try to put one dollar into the machine, but he says I need about 10 dollars. Reluctantly I feed my money in, knowing I probably will never see it again. He tries to explain it, but when I try he winces as I literally throw my tokens down the drain at the bottom of the machine. We all give it a whirl and end up with about 41 cents of tokens at the end, which I make sure to collect a prize with. Yay! We won styrofoam "chocolate pie" candy! My night is complete. We then went to a bar and had some beer and played darts, which was not as interesting but it was more fun.</div>
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That's my first night in Tokyo! If this gets too long-winded, let me know (or just unfriend me on facebook or something).</div>
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Photo credits (in order): free-d.nl, pixelhub.org, bbc.com</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876703910518052760.post-47540960418476619902014-08-02T12:36:00.000+09:002014-08-03T11:23:53.572+09:001. Across the Narrow Sea (aka leg room and sandwiches)THE BORING PART <br />
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Welcome to my first post! I've never done a blog before, blah blah desperate plea for attention blah. So I'm staying in Japan for a year to teach English, and this will be my chronicles of my attempt to survive in the boonies with extremely limited Japanese skills. Writing has never been my strong suit, so please forgive my terse sentences and general blundering attempts to comunikate thrugh wurds. The only thing I am worse at than writing is photography, and you might find yourself looking at some of that too. I'll try to use some photos I find on Google images so you don't have to deal with terrible lighting and framing.<br />
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THE LESS BORING PART<br />
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I get to the airport 45 minutes after when they told us to be there, and I'm wearing flip flops, which they specifically told us not to wear (a luggage cart could slice your foot off!). I am berated for both. Whatever. I came in to the airport with a gallon jug half-full (optimism!) of water, and I am forced to drink it all in the line for security. I barely make it through the metal detector before I run to the men's room.<br />
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Once we get on the plane, everything is super high tech. Instead of shutters on the windows, they have buttons that slowly tint the windows to a darker shade of blue. The toilet has three different bidet functions, and the lights in the bathroom gradually turn on as you open the door so as not to alarm you (I suppose). I managed to snag an exit row somehow, so I have a hot date with seven feet of leg room for nine hours.<br />
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All the attendants bow incessantly, which is super weird and I am uncomfortably reminded of how much bowing I will have to do in the near future. One of them comes around to talk with me about my special dietary needs, which confuses me at first. Eventually, I remember my friend Pepper recommended I select Hindu dietary restrictions on the plane so that I would get served delicious curry, a plan which works swimmingly.<br />
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I was super worried about not getting enough food on the plane and bus to the hotel, so I packed six sandwiches, two quesadillas, a bag of green beans and carrots, and a tupperware full of rice, lentils, and kale. Turns out the quesadillas are the last bit of cheese I will be eating for a while.<br />
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Interestingly enough, there is a leak in the roof, and a bunch of water pours out right onto my legs right as we touch down. I think this is hilarious, but the flight attendant sitting across from me looks horrified and gets on her phone and has a hushed conversation in Japanese. As I left the plane, they take me aside and have a very serious conversation about how they want to dry clean my jeans for me. I tell them it's fine.<br />
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On the bus ride over to the hotel, I realize how illiterate I am. It seems as if 90% of the writing uses kanji, by far the most difficult of the three Japanese alphabets, and the one I haven't studied at all. Not being able to read simple signs makes me feel very small and powerless.<br />
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Alright whiner, this isn't a diary.<br />
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Anyway, we all get to the hotel in Tokyo with no major incidences, and the hotel is super nice, but we are packed three to a room in fairly small rooms. I manage to find someone to lend me a pair of shoes for the swanky orientation period (I of course forgot my dress shoes in the US), then we go out for a night on the town! Details to follow.<br />
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THE GOOD PART <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03107205471032166618noreply@blogger.com5