October 2004
Monday, Oct. 4, 2004 — Oishii (delicious)
Laughing Cow Cheese + crackers = yum yum yum. $2 a package at the supermarket!
I got my absentee ballot in the mail today from the Harris County clerk. How helpful that they included instructions both in English AND Vietnamese. At first I was a little confounded. I hadn't, obviously, requested Vietnamese instructions. Wouldn't Spanish have been a more obvious choice, given that probably more people in Houston speak Spanish as a second language than Vietnamese? But then I realized the county clerk's office probably had looked at my name and decided Spanish probably wouldn't have been the way to go, if, indeed, English wasn't my native language.
Wednesday, Oct. 6, 2004 — Let me get my breath
One of the first-grade teachers had asked me to give a presentation on the U.S. today. Thankfully, he asked two weeks ago, giving me plenty of time to prepare. Sometimes, Japanese people don’t give you that luxury. (I’ll get a request at second period to come to a class third period and “teach English.”) I had prepared a random sampling of stuff to talk about with my students, which I put in a PowerPoint presentation. I planned on talking about my family, the American school system and childhood traditions like birthday parties, the Tooth Fairy and holidays.
Also thankfully, the first-grade English teacher, Nakamura-sensei, has really good English, so she sat beside me and translated while I gave my presentation. The day before the teacher who had requested the presentation, Shigezaki-sensei, and I had worked together to figure out how to hook up the project to my laptop. I also spent a period casually talking about American traditions with him. It was the first time since I’ve come to Kokufu that we’ve had an extended conversation. He’s a really nice teacher, though. The last time we kinda really talked was when I’d gotten ill at school and passed out on the refresh room’s couch, which was freezing because it was the winter and I didn’t know how to work the heater, and he’d draped his jacket over me and turned on the heater.
So it was fun to be able to actually chat with Shigezaki-sensei yesterday, again using our stunted grasps of each other’s language. I learned that when Japanese kids lose a lower baby tooth, they throw it up in the air and when they lose an upper baby tooth, they throw it down on the ground. This is a superstitious attempt to coax the permanent teeth to grow in straight.
I’m glad I know my students well enough by now that their complete silence and dull expressions didn’t phase me as I went through my report. I’d collected a bunch of pictures to show them what U.S. junior high schools looked like, as well as things like Halloween trick-or-treating and Easter eggs. When I finished and Shigezaki-sensei asked if there were any questions, of course there weren’t any.
The PowerPoint presentation came in handy again at lunch, when I brought it with me to the special needs class. After we ate together, I went through the pictures quickly with them. They actually were a little frightened by a picture of a baby sitting in a giant bunny’s lap, as well as that of a teen-ager dressed as the Hulk in a Halloween picture. It was pretty funny.
When I returned to the teachers’ room, two second-year boys were hanging around Negami-sensei, whose desk is next to mine. Naoki and Kenshin are really friendly, outgoing boys who I’d taken a shine to from the beginning, even if they are outgoing enough to disrupt a class. Negami-sensei urged Naoki Morikami to talk to me but he was feeling bashful and replied, “I can’t speak English!” to which she replied I was studying Japanese. Finally the boys approached me with a pre-decided topic: “Can I see your passport?”
Regretfully, of course my passport was at home, but I lured the boys over by asking if they wanted to see American money. Cold, hard cash always does the trick. I had some U.S. bills from Guam, so I whipped them out to show the boys. I also showed them what was left of my Australian money, too. We had a nice discussion about currency.
Then I asked if they wanted to see photos from America. Their eagerness warmed my heart. They were getting pretty excited and their voices were growing louder. It was obvious all the teachers could hear our discussion, especially when the teachers laughed at some of the things Naoki and Kenshin would ask or say. Kenshin gave me some hilarious rapid-fire questions: “Do you know Nelly? How about Usher? Avril Lavigne? Do you know Beyonce? (I told him she was from Houston.) Have you see a Nelly concert? DMX? Britney?”
I wasn’t sure if I was answering correctly — was I saying, “Yes, I know OF them” or “Yes I KNOW them”? Kenshin wasn’t giving me much of a chance to think about it. I was even answering in the local dialect rather than proper Japanese because I didn’t have an opportunity to properly conjugate the verb, so I was just mirroring his language! I was so impressed by his knowledge of popular musicians from the U.S. Sometimes I’d have to ask him to repeat himself and slow down, which he would do, but he was hard taskmaster, moving on to the next questions with lightning speed: “Which food (or maybe he meant “rice” — the Japanese word means both) do you like more, Japan’s or America’s?” “Which do you like better, the U.S. or Japan?”
They even wanted to see pictures of my family! Wow! Naoki really impressed me because he even remembered one of my sisters’ names from when I’d mentioned it before. But finally, the bell rang and they had to go back to class. They left in whirlwind, just as they’d come, leaving me slightly dizzy and grinning happily because it’d been such a fun conversation.
Saturday, Oct. 9, 2004 — Tokyo and the typhoon
What an insane, exhausting day. I woke up early AND sick and it basically went downhill from there. Three words: Typhoon No. 22.
I had a five-day weekend at my disposal— the weekend, a holiday and two days of fall break — and decided to hit one of my must-see spots: Tokyo. I’d already been there, of course, from when I’d first arrived in Japan and had my ALT Orientation. But that had been a blur of workshops, jet lag and exhaustion. I wanted to go back to Tokyo and do it right. I gave myself three days to spend in the most populated city in the country plus one in Kyoto.
(My parents later said they’d expected me to spend the entire week in Tokyo. I told them I couldn’t AFFORD to spend an entire week in one of the most expensive cities in the world.)
My alarm went off at 5:45 a.m. I had a train to catch at 6:30 a.m. It was raining, and had been for at least 24 hours. I’d spend Friday watching the rain pour down. And Typhoon No. 22, which was supposed to hit today, hadn’t even truly arrived yet!
I was congested and slightly woozy from a cold I’d caught two days ago (Let that mark Cold No. 1 of what undoubtedly will be multiple colds this winter, though hopefully less than last winter). But I wasn’t going to let any of that stop me from getting to Tokyo.
So, packed and ready, I jumped on the 6:33 a.m. train downtown and then caught what I thought was the 7:15 a.m. bus to Kyoto. I’d been told to go to Platform No. 1 but saw the kanji for Kyoto on Platform No. 2, so I got on that bus instead. As my bus and the one in front of us pulled away, I saw the sign on the bus in front of said it was Kyoto-bound as well. I was jolted by a brief moment of panic as I wondered if I’d gotten on the right bus. I never feel reassured, really, until the city is within my sights. I asked the lady next to us if we were headed to Kyoto. She said yes, that both were. Whew!
Considering it rained the whole bus trip, I thought we’d be late. I’d taken that possibility into consideration by getting a shinkansen that left Kyoto one hour after my scheduled arrival by bus, just in case. Surprisingly, we arrived just in time. That gave me plenty of time to stop by the shinkansen ticket office and change my return ticket, which I’d mistakenly got for the wrong day. The exchange was so easy (even though it was in Japanese), and I didn’t even get charged for the change! Sweet!
I got a window seat on the shinkansen. I always prefer window seats on any mode of transport because it means I can sleep. I’d mainly slept on the bus because I hadn’t felt well. I planned on doing the same on the shinkansen. But as we whizzed through country, I could tell the typhoon was beginning its assault on the island. Although the bullet train started fast, soon it had to slow down because of the torrential rain and wind. I kept hearing the shinkansen conductor come over the P.A. and make announcements. Mainly, I’d just caught the Japanese word for “typhoon,” which is “taifu.” I was so afraid the shinkansen conductor was going to be like, “Okay, we can’t go any further. Get off,” and I’d end up stranded in who knows where. But it kept plugging along, albeit at a slower pace.
The closer we got to Tokyo, the more often there’d be waits for unknown periods at the stops. This is unusual in that shinkansens are well-oiled machines: They pull up to a station, open the doors, and passengers have like two minutes to get or off. I am so not kidding. I was shocked at first by the miniscule window, but passengers seem to make do. This time, the train would pull up and the people who’d intended to get off would get off. Then there’d be another announcement and a wait of interminable duration and I’d see a bunch more people get up, look irritated, and get off. This was all very disconcerting.
On the train, I was popping cough drops and occasionally taking sips of water but other than that, I had no appetite. I nodded off or just listened to music or read when the shinkansen was still.
The stations in the greater Tokyo area looked deserted, confirming my fears that the shinkansen line was canceling routes. I finally arrived in Tokyo at 2:30 p.m., one hour later, which really wasn’t so bad. That’s when the disorientation began. I can only imagine what utter havoc it would have been to have brought my family here.
The train and subway stations and underground shopping centers are endless, let alone the city itself. My first priority was finding a tourist information center to get maps and figure out where I was and where I wanted to go. I wandered an underground shopping arcade until I got to the information booth. They didn’t have any maps — except for of the shopping arcade — and directed me to the Tokyo International Forum, where the Japan National Tourist Organization is housed.
I knew the JNTO office had closed at noon but was hoping I’d find some maps outside the office. Getting there meant going outside. I was soaked from almost the second I did that. I had a giant umbrella with me but the rain was coming down so hard, my pants, knees-down, and shoes were soaked. Squishy socks … blech. At the Tokyo International Forum, the information booth lady THERE told me not to bother to go to the JNTO office. She directed me to ANOTHER visitor’s center that hadn’t closed yet. That involved venturing out into the rain again. My backpack, which was getting its share of water, felt heavier with every staggering step.
When I got to what I thought was the building, but I couldn’t locate the visitor’s center. I asked an older man for directions. He said he was headed that way, and to just follow him. The center was just around the corner. I was so relieved to be out of the rain and to be able to put my stuff down, if just for a few moments. The ladies there were so nice and helpful. They plied me with maps and pamphlets, and told me how to get back to Tokyo Station without having to go out in the downpour. They urged me to get going ASAP because train service was being shut down as we spoke, evident from the TV news they had on. I scurried out. She told me the necessary fares and train lines and EVERYTHING to get to my hostel!
Still, in my quest for getting back to the station, I got lost in the bowels of Tokyo. I had to stop and ask for directions a couple of times. I was gonna ask this one lady at a cooking school with open doors but she made eye contact, started walking toward me, AND THEN TURNED AROUND AND WALKED AWAY WHILE GLANCING BACK AT ME! That made my mood turn stormy. Such discourtesy!
Luckily, I eventually made it back to the station and caught the Chuo Line to Shinjuku and then the Odakyu line two stops to Sangūbashi. Tokyo Station had been teeming with people who’d found themselves stranded when their trains were cancelled. There were a bunch of people sitting around with Tokyo Disneyland bags, obviously having just gotten back from the theme park. I thanked my lucky stars that the local trains were still running.
Not that I’d expected any better, but sheets of rain will still coming down when I stepped off my last train at 4:45 p.m. I had originally thought to go straight to the hostel but it didn’t open until 5 p.m. anyway. I needed to eat first and then check-in so I wouldn’t have to leave the hostel. Not in THIS lovely weather.
I walked along the shop-lined street looking for a restaurant that looked doable … i.e., a deserted one, if possible, one devoid of Japanese people or other foreigners. I found one with a nice old lady at the door. She invited me in. This chance encounter turned out to be a highlight of my day.
She gave me the menu but I told her I couldn’t read the kanji. The benefit of going into a mom-and-pop deserted restaurant like that was that they had the kindness, patience and time to humor a lost foreigner. I asked her what she recommended. She asked if rice was okay and said they had rice with pork or tofu. The tofu dish actually sounded good. She said it was spicy. In my reply, I MEANT to say I’d like it not spicy (spicy = “karai”) but I think I ended up saying I hated tofu (hate = “kirai”) which is probably why I ended up with set meal that included sweet and sour pork, rice and soup. Still, not bad for 700 yen.
The lady brought it all out and I was like, “Woah, a lot of food!” But just as I started to eat, she launched into a conversation with me. Where I’m from, etc. And then, just as I was shoveling something into my mouth, her grandson came in. He started talking to me, too! The grandmother didn’t know much English but apparently had always wanted to learn and even had workbooks (which she showed me) with which she practiced. With the help of her son, whose English was better, they got across something to me about how there’d been an English class available when she was a girl, but the war had done away with it and apparently she’d not gotten the opportunity since then. It was just a really pleasant, friendly conversation.
The grandson finally realized I wasn’t getting to eat because they kept talking to me, so they left me alone for a bit. I watched the grandmother go into the kitchen and nearly set herself, and the kitchen, on fire several times with this flash flame that ran the height of the space.
We chatted some more after I’d finished. The son, a 20-year-old college student, left but was driven back by the intense rain. Eventually I, too, tried to leave but it was raining even harder. They insisted I wait some more until the rain lightened. The grandmother even served me some hot jasmine tea. Yum. Jasmine tea reminds me of home.
A family eventually came in to grab some supper themselves, so I used that time to slip out. The grandson came with me and said he’d show me the way. That was so thoughtful of him, especially considering there was a TYPHOON and all, and the streets were flooded.
On the way there, he told me he was studying aerospace engineering. I told him about living near NASA. Hahaha, he was really excited. I told him I didn’t really like science, though. He was like, “I LOVE IT!” Apparently, he also was a camp counselor for a pony-riding camp. That cracked me up. When we finally slogged our way to where he thought the hostel was located, he said to please stop by the restaurant again.
The hostel at which I’d made reservations was a part of the National Youth Olympics complex, which houses an array of dormitory-style housing, athletic centers and meeting areas. It’s quite expansive and I wasn’t sure I was at the right place when I parked myself in front of what looked like a lodging-area. There were a bunch of people in the lobby but no front desk (which should have been a clue in itself). I ended up mistakenly trying to check in with a medical school group in a building that wasn’t even the hostel. The girl checking in her classmates gave me a dirty look for even trying.
After lots of walking around and backtracking with a broken umbrealla, I finally found out that the hostel was in the identical building next to the one I was in. By then, I’d found a sympathizer among the medical school students. She worriedly asked me if I’d be okay. I assured her I would be.
Finally in my room — the hostel only had singles, which was bliss — I was able to shed my wet socks and shoes. The room was tiny, just enough room for a single bed and desk, but it was all I needed. I hunt up my damp clothes and made use of the bath before resting a bit in the floor lounge, where I watched the evening news. TV footage of the typhoon was insane: flooded streets, a landslide blocking a train line, water pouring down stairwells into the subway stations, people having to wade through ankle-deep water to get to the subway, water leaking through the ground and breaking through light fixtures underground. In the past, I’ve always laughed at the people you see on the news, struggling with useless umbrellas in the gale and downpour. Not any more. That was ME today.
I popped some Nyquil and was asleep by 8:30 p.m.
Sunday, Oct. 10, 2004 — Tokyo without the typhoon
The Daily Yomiuri called Typhoon No. 22 one of the most powerful to hit Japan in years. It was the ninth to make landfall this year. The previous record was six typhoons making landfall in a year, which happened in 1990 and 1993.
It took a similar course of most autumn typhoons but was uncharacteristically powerful. They typically lose their strength on their way to Japan but Typhoon No. 22 maintained its power. It left seven people dead and four missing in Tokyo and four prefectures.
Its maximum wind velocity was recorded in Shizuoka-ken at 3:10 p.m. at 243 kph. There were floods and landslides. All flights in and out of Haneda Airport, Tokyo’s domestic airport, were cancelled. Japan Airlines cancelled 172 flights, and All Nippon Airways, 147 flights, affecting 65,000 people. Several long-distance trains were stopped. The Tokaido shinkansen line, the one I’d used, had to cancel or suspend 127 train services, leaving 1,000 passengers stranded at Tokyo Station. Train schedules were disrupted until midnight Saturday, affecting about 170,000 people.
This morning, I was out of the hostel by 8 a.m. I caught the train to Shinjuku, a main transfer point, and took another train to Ebisu. I breakfasted on a salmon bagel sandwich and fruit smoothie at a café in a fashionable shopping area there. I really miss bagels. They’re not in wide supply in Japan. I hung around for 45 minutes waiting for the Tokyo Metropolitan Photo Museum to open at 10 a.m.
The museum has an interesting exhibit of celebrity portraits coming up — Madonna, Robbie Williams, etc. — but it doesn’t open until Oct. 16, d’oh! Crazily enough, you had to pay a separate price for each exhibit, so I just picked one. It was a weird display of black and white portraits attached to pictures of nature. My favorites were of Ian Thorpe (cutest) and of an ikebana artist (such a wrinkled and grizzled face, but with a glimmer of humor in his eyes).
From Ebisu, I went to Shibuya. The sheer number of people at the main intersection in front of the train station was staggering. I felt claustrophobic and cramped. After going the wrong direction at first — this trip involved a lot of backtracking — I found my way to Tower Records. Seven stories of media madness. The entire seventh floor had foreign books and magazines. I’d hoped to get the Sports Illustrated 50th anniversary issue (I’m no sports nut, but it’d sounded good!) but they didn’t have it. I settled for Entertainment Weekly’s photo issue. For $7.
Shibuya is known as a happenin’ place where the young people go and the streets are lined with trendy shops and eateries. I found it kind of suffocating. There was no escaping the crowds. The stores were cramped but people kept flooding them, meaning there was no way to browse leisurely, not with milling masses trying to push past. I gave up.
Next, I stopped by Harajuku. The station opens directly onto Takeshita Street, which is also a trendy place to go for young people. Except the street itself is a walking-kind of street, half the size of those that accommodate cars. There was even less breathing room here.
There were black guys stationed every few yards with flyers. Now, if you think the Japanese have weird reactions to white people, imagine how they react around black people, who are much fewer in number. These flyer guys were keeping an eye out for, I think, hip young Japanese guys to drum up business for a club or something. They’d approach the Japanese guys while speaking Japanese. I saw some of the Japanese guys visible flinch when greeted by the flyer guys. The Japanese guys would try to slide by as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. But the club marketers were quite persistent and would follow after them.
I went into a couple of shops looking for shirts with humorous mangling of the English language, but their style was so retro, so 80s, that I couldn’t bring myself to go through the search. Plus, there was no room to maneuver in the stores, anyway.
From there, I meandered over to Meiji Shrine, which is located inside Yoyogi Park. Just outside the park entrance was an open area which is I guess unofficially the gathering place for those who seriously into cosplay. “Cosplay” is a Japanese word that comes from “costume play.” Typically it refers to the hardcore anime fans who actually dress up like the characters they revere. (You’ll be happy to know that I never got that far.) There were all these people dressed up in freaky get-ups, from Victorian maids to way Goth, and everything in between.
The maid costumes comes from a fad in anime right now. There are several series about maids working in Victorian England. Personally, I think it has to do with anime’s tendency to put women in submissive roles but that’s another discussion altogether. I don’t know where the Goth comes from.
This place was where Japanese cosplayers went to be seen. There were lots of foreign tourists eager to get their photos taken with them. I stared for a bit, and then headed into the park.
Meiji Shrine is preceded by a giant torii (gateway) made of cypress wood. Yoyogi Park, which surrounds it, is said to have at least one tree from every species that exists in the country. The way to the shrine was covered in pebbles and lined with trees. It was such a peaceful atmosphere and made you feel miles away from the stifling hustle and bustle of the city. I rested in the shrine for a bit and did some people watching. It was a fascinating place to do that, since the shrine is popular (if pricey, from what I hear) place for ceremonies and weddings.
Next, I headed to Shinjuku. It was only about 5 p.m. by then but I was pretty tired, and couldn’t bring myself to do much sightseeing. I walked around for a bit and passed by the Keio Plaza Hotel, where I like to tell myself it all began. That’s where the JET ALT Orientation takes place every year. I stopped by a restaurant for some dessert, hoping to eat some cake but even though the restaurant — which was busy — had a giant cake menu, it turned out they only had like three items. False advertisement! I had to settle for sherbet.
Finally, I returned to Sangūbashi. I made sure to go back to the Chinese Restaurant for dinner. But since I’d actually eaten stuff that day, I wasn’t able to finish was again proved to be a big meal. I actually got the tofu that day, with rice and soup. I chatted with the grandmother again, but not as much as the day before. She showed me pictures of a homestay she’d done in the U.S. Her family had lived in Florida. I think her son-in-law was in the kitchen. He kept looking curiously at me.
When I’d finished what I’d could of the meal, I made to go. That’s when the grandmother pulled a big cluster of grapes from her refrigerator and gave them to me! “Present!” she said. I protested, saying I was full, but she insisted, saying the grapes were quite good. I was touched. I love Japanese hospitality and its overflowing kindness, when you’re lucky enough to receive it. I thanked her profusely and also told her thanks for her grandson’s help the day before.
Monday, Oct. 11, 2004 — Tokyo, Day 3
I checked out of the hostel, which had proven a good investment at $30 a night for a single room. First I headed to Tokyo Station, where I put my backpack in a locker, taking only my day-bag with me as I usually do. On my way to Tokyo Station, I ended up getting lost on the trains for the first time. I took the wrong train line and then passed right on by the station I should have gotten off to change to the right train. I missed a train that would have taken me directly to Tokyo Station from there, so had to backtrack to Akihabara Station before catching another local train to Tokyo Station.
Once I unloaded my stuff, I went BACK Akihabara, the electronics district. Fans, cell phones, television sets, laptops, anything and everything electronic was on sale here. I think my dad would have loved it. Except there is an excess of salesmen, so I didn’t make any effort to browse because I don’t like someone hovering around me. Akihabara is also anime central, so much so that the pornographic anime video games were right on display out in the open, with little kids playing normal (I hope) video games right next to the porn. Soooo weird.
Akihabara is also where I’d read they have “maid cafes,” where the waitresses actually dress up in those Victorian maid outfits. Quite popular among the anime otaku (geek) set, as well as, you guessed it, businessmen. I kept an eye out for them but didn’t see any, partly because I didn’t go off the main street.
I did, however, come across an irate flyer-lady. I hate rude people and she definitely qualified. Many people station themselves in front of stations to hand out flyers and advertisements. As I walked past her she tried to give me one, but I gestured no thanks. Politely! But she glared me and was like, “HMPH!” and jerked her hand back. I stopped, I was so shocked at her reaction, and stared at her, thinking maybe she was joking. The noise she’d made was the kind Japanese girls make when they’re trying to be coyly angry around boys. But she didn’t look coy. Just angry.
From Akihabara, I went to nearby Ochanomizu, which is the musical instrument district. There was a Russian-style church I wanted to see but it was closed, so I settled for a Japanese shrine instead. It was a simple building with an open courtyard. Not very popular but it served my purposes, which was simply to sit down and rest for a bit. Then I strolled through some a bookshop and stationery store before finding the musical instrument shops. I was actually looking for sheet music but couldn’t find the specific song I wanted.
I went into the Ochanomizu subway station and asked for directions to another subway station, Ginza. I knew I was in the wrong place, that the Ochanomizu subway line didn’t go that way, but I wanted to get pointed in the right direction. The guy in the subway information was no help at all. “You need to go to Hibiya Station,” he told me. Hibiya wasn’t connected to Ochanomizu, and he offered no additional explanation on how to get there. Worse, it wasn’t even the RIGHT subway station I needed to get to Ginza. I hate it when people are like that, too busy for you — it was this guy’s JOB and he didn’t even care.
I found the right subway station and took it to Ginza. I wandered around and happened upon a Kodak photo exhibition. Ginza was like Manhattan’s Fifth Avenue, with big-brand-name shops everywhere. I wasn’t so interested in those things. I wasn’t looking to buy anything and I certainly wasn’t looking to buy anything expensive. I went into a convenience store and got some rice balls and a candy bar to munch on.
Finally, I decided to peek into the Sony Building. The Sony Building has six stories of showrooms that display their latest gadgets and allow you to try them out. I didn’t know how interesting I’d find it but I actually ended up spending a LOT of time there. It was SO COOL. Some of these things weren’t even for sale yet, like the Playstation X and the Playstation Portable or PSP. The Sony mp3 player had JUST gone on sale. I fiddled around with lots of the appliances. I LOVED the portable computers, some of which had quite intriguing dimensions. It was a techno-geek’s paradise.
But eventually I had to return to Tokyo Station and catch a shinkansen back to Kyoto. I walked the eight blocks or so to my hostel, which was located in a busy intersection. It made getting to sleep a little hard because the windows were open to let in air. The traffic never quite died down. But I had a bed and I wasn’t walking anymore and that was all that mattered.
Friday, Oct. 15, 2004 — poetry and prose
My third-year students have been working on writing poems in English, as well as skits about calling someone and leaving a message. Here are some of their masterpieces. I've tried to preserve the original spelling but have occasionally put explanations in parentheses.
|
Playing basketball Mountain sea Taisuke Snow MOON My friend Moon Seasons My friends WISH Bubbles My dog Song Soul My friend My favorite Hiroaki N. new hamburger Dream Who’s this? Study RPG |
GUNDAM Sports Alcoholic Hope Great art RGM-79 GM(N) Prison Happy face Shadow teacher Oranges Very beautiful Moon Mother Interesting pances be twinkly Remind me Misuzu “Sick” English |
M: Hellou?
S: Hellou. This is Shuichi. I have something to tell you.
M: What’s up?
S: I’ve loved you for a long time. Will you be my girlfriend?
M: I’m sorry. I have husband.
S: eh … ? Who’s this?
M: This is Etsuko. I’m Yoshimi’s mom.
S: I’m Yoshimi’s classmate. Please keep this a secret.
M: I got it.
Mami: Hello, Me, me!! (I later changed this to “It’s me.”)
Miho: Oh, Airi (I later changed this to “Mami” … so it would make sense …). What’s up?
Mami: I have no money. Can I borrow money?
Miho: OK. How much?
Mami: It’s two million yen.
Miho: Really?
Mami: Yes, please!
Miho: Ok …
Natsuki: Hello?!!
Yuki: Hello, this is Yuki. May speak to Yuka, please?
Natsuki: Oh, my sorry. I’m very busy!! I want to go to the toilett!! Oh my got!!
Yuki: ?!! Hello? Hello? Hello?
Yuka: … Hello?
Yuki: What’s happen?!
Yuka: Don’t worry. What’s up?
Yuki: Would you like to come to my house?
Yuka: Yes. I’m coming.
Yuki: O.K. Bye.
Yuka: Bye.
Wednesday, Oct. 20, 2004 — sigh ...
So. Typhoon No. 23. Flooding in Tokushima. Typhoon No. 24 on the way.
Check back for pictures of Tokyo, I’m not finished with that section yet!
Thursday, Oct. 21, 2004 — Recap: Typhoon No. 23
I hate that The Daily Yomiuri can’t put typhoons, especially ones as powerful and momentously deadly as No. 23, on the front page. They put a picture of windswept ships with a refer to the inside. Sure, their copy deadline looks like it’s 4 p.m., but that doesn’t mean that have to neglect what info they have.
As of today, Typhoon Tokage (“lizard”) left 28 people dead, 43 people missing and 252 injured. More than 7,000 homes were fooded. A wind velocity of 212 kph registered in Kochi-ken, next to Tokushima-ken. On Shikoku (my island) and Chugoku regions (southwest Honshu), about 13,000 people were advised to evacuate. Kansai International Airport dealt with 29 canceled flights and Osaka Airport, 140 flights. Ferry and other passenger boat services in the area were stopped.
Friday, Oct. 22, 2004 — School Trip No. 2
Oooooh, I got invited to go on ANOTHER school trip, this time with the Kamona third-year students. I was psyched about this one because I actually have Japanese skills had improved enough to avoid another replay of my last trip’s disaster, where I was, as they say, SHUT OUT. We went to “Astamu Land,” where, as the brochure advertises, “water, greenery and light come together.”
Astamu Land is really “Science Land” and is located in Itano, a 40-minute busride from the city. I even chatted with Morita-sensei and some students on the trip there and back! BIG improvement from last time, when I spent it in silence (albeit RELIEVED silence) or excrutiating awkwardness.
At Astamu Land, I still went around on my own most of the time but I would meet with students at the different exhibits and they’d invite me to join them. WAY better than last time. I walked around with Morita-sensei and some other teachers for a while, but I’m not particularly comfortable in mixed company when some people can speak English and others speak Japanese.
What cracked me up about this trip is that Astamu Land is geared toward elementary school students and here were these ninth graders on a field trip to it. At calligraphy yesterday I had a grade-school kid give me a 20-minute sermon on Astamu Land’s many features. But, unsurprisingly, the junior high school kid made themselves at home. Just because their teen-agers doesn’t mean they’re too old for playgrounds.
As for myself, I checked out the playground, the science museum, the anticlimactic water ride and the planetarium. The 50-minute planetarium show was mandatory for all the students. I sat next to Kawahito-sensei, a kind lady who doesn’t speak English. She explained some of the Japanese astronomy lecture to me but eventually fell asleep, as did what seemed half the student population. Lunch was a bento with the teachers of cold rice, fish, tempura and vegetables. The science museum probably would have been cooler ahd I been able to understand the exhibits better, but it was fun watching the kids madly scramble around and on them.
But the weather was nice and it was a pleasant opportunity to get away from school and escape a day’s worth of lessons.
Saturday, Oct. 23, 2004 — The higher they are, the harder they fall
Kurohashi-sensei, my calligraphy teacher, took me to a kimono show this afternoon. It was all right. Interesting to see the range in design and fabric. It all took place in a small tatami room that was draped with lengths of fabric. There were two ladies wearing kimonos who showed visitors the kimono-wear in more detail. Being around Japanese women, especially those in kimonos, always makes me feel so ungainly and awkward, because they’re so graceful.
The kimono “show” took place at a community center in Itano, about 40 minutes away from me by car. Afterward, Kurohashi-sensei, her student Reika and I had some ice cream. We ran into two ALTs, Audrey and Martin. Audrey’s Chinese-Canadian. When I introduced her, I just said she was from Kita High School and assumed my teacher and Reika would realize she, too, was an ALT. Apparently, they didn’t though. After Audrey and Martin moved on, Kurohashi-sensei and Reika were like, “WOW! Her English is SO GOOD for a high school student!” I was like, “No, no, she’s an ALT there!” To which they replied, “But she LOOKS so … YOUNG!” I lamely replied with, “Actually, she’s near my age …” while secretly wondering how old they thought I was.
We had the Tokushima JET bowling tournament that evening. I went from bowling a near-miraculous 135 points in Game 1 (Three strikes! But not in a row.) — completely stellar for me; I even beat a bunch of the GUYS — to a devastating 62 points in Game 2 (one strike). With the 135, I had the second highest girl’s score but ranked in the lower-third on our team when it came to combined points. Boo hoo hoo. Boo. Hoo. Hoo.
I guess the small consolation was that my team — the three teams were West, South and North and I was on the North — won with the highest average points of about 108.
Monday, Oct. 25, 2004 — Do you know how to … ?
I put together a worksheet for the third-year students to practice “Do you know how to …” It was a flow chart, so if you answered “yes” to a question, you went in one direction to another “Do you know how to …?” question and if you said “no,” you were directed to a different question. Eventually you’d hit a box with your fortune, like “You’ll move to America and become a famous comic book artist” or “You’ll go to college but become a fisherman.” I made the students write both “Do you know how to …?” questions as well as the fortunes. These are some of the more memorable ones:
You’ll become my pet. |
You will be very happy. And, from one student: Do you love Vivi? |
Thursday, Oct. 28, 2004 — RK (a.k.a. Rurouni Kenshin)
When I went to Kyoto earlier this month, I discovered that it was Shinsengumi Central! The Shinsengumi were a band of warriors in the 1800s headquartered in Kyoto who were sworn to protect the shogun and keep the peace. They became famous for thwarting a plot to harm the shogun and overthrow the government. Everywhere I looked in the souvenir shops in Kyoto, there was Shinsengumi paraphernalia. I’m interested in the group because they make a substantial appearance in one of my favorite anime series, Rurouni Kenshin, particularly in the character of Saitō Hajime.
It was cool to see the three-kanji insignia for the Shinsengumi everywhere. What was so funny was that they’d always been there, I’d just not realized it on past trips because I hadn’t been looking for Shinsengumi stuff. But there was also another kanji that I knew was associated with the Shinsengumi that I didn’t recognize. I asked my calligraphy teacher about it and we figured it out. It’s “makoto,” and means “integrity.”
Usually I just practice whatever Kurohashi-sensei gives me to do in calligraphy class, but I made the special request to learn “makoto.” I got to practice the kanji yesterday, which was really cool. So relevant! Soon I’ll also be doing the three kanji for “Shisengumi.” I should ask to do “Aku. Soku. Zan!” too! That means “Evil. Swift. Slay,” and was the motto for the hero’s nemesis in Rurouni Kenshin.
Oh yeah, and then we did flower arrangement. This time, we used ORCHIDS.
And it was BEAUTIFUL.
Friday, Oct. 29, 2004 — Kenshin IS cool
In the teacher’s room today I was talking with Miyata-sensei about Rurouni Kenshin. She didn’t recognize the anime title so I write it out in hiragana for her. I told her that most of the students didn’t recognize Rurouni Kenshin either, since it’s an old anime, so I don’t really bring it up as a conversation topic. I left the notebook with my scrawlings on my desk. Later, some first-year students happened by. One of the girls spotted my writing and read it. “Kenshin!” she explained. “Kakkoii, nah, sensei?” she said: “He’s COOL, isn’t he, teacher?” I was so excited! “ISN’T he, though?” I replied. It was a really neat moment.
Saturday, Oct. 30, 2004 — celebrating Halloween with pre-schoolers
In the past, I’ve done pre-school parties with a local English teacher, Shizuka, like the Easter party (April 18) and the Christmas party (Dec. 7, 2003). This time, it was the Halloween party.
A lot of the same little faces, plus a few new ones. Princess costumes were quite the rage. I made some snazzy Halloween flash cards for one game. The children decorated bags in which to collect their candy. We played pin-the-face-on-the-jack-o-lantern, as well as musical chairs. I don’t think they quite understood musical chairs because when we’d pull a chair into the center of the circle, some kids would run straight to their chairs, not understanding the seats were reserved for kids who were out.
During one of the relay games, I was a team captain (Imagine that! ME! A team captain!) of a herd of pre-schoolers. When it was my turn to go, the boy going after me was like, “KATTE YO!” which loosely translates to, “YOU BETTER WIN.” Actually, it’s the command form of “to win” with a “yo” added on for extra emphasis. I just thought it was so funny this kid was COMMANDING me to win.
The kids’ groups were divided by age and I got the youngest group, which was composed of like, 3- and 4-year-olds. That made explaining games a little hard. I tried to get the kids to do an alternating English-Japanese number chair — “ichi,” “two,” “san,” “four,” etc. — but that proved a little too difficult. Shizuka had to take over.
Nevertheless, I really like working with kids this age, pre-school, because they’re so malleable. They quickly picked up on saying “Please” and “Thank you” when making requests, and they’re eager to learn and understand. I hate to say it, but sometimes their English even seemed better than my junior high school students’!
Sunday, Oct. 31, 2004 — Lost in Translation
I finally got around to seeing the movie “Lost in Translation.” Several of my friends had urged me to see it but it was only recently that I was able to borrow a DVD of it from a friend. It was cool to see the movie, since I’d just been to Tokyo.
My take? I wasn’t all that impressed, perhaps because the movie had so much hype beforehand. I concede it’s a well-made, thoughtful movie. I know the matter of infidelity rankles with some viewers but I was never drawn into the movie enough for that to bother me. Surprisingly.
What I walked away with was that the movie does portray Japan in an honest way, as a land of astonishing contrasts, a place that is a mixture of modernity, bizarreness and archaicness. The interpretor really annoyed me but she was pretty true-to-form, I thought, in everything from her simpering to her high-pitched voice and her inability to truly interpret.
But I was also irritated but BobHarris’ seeming disrespect for the culture, too. He never tried to understand the culture, he just wisecracked his way through it. He never had the patience to try to understand. That really bothered me. I know the movie wasn’t about Japan so much as two “lost souls” connecting in a foreign land, but still. But it was cool to recognize spots that I’d been to on my recent trip.
I've finally put up Tokyo pictures from Day 2 and Day 3. There aren't any from Day 1 because, that was Typhoon Day. Check 'em out!