J81 Thursday, June 28th 2007
I've been busy these past few days, and I haven't had time to jot everything down digitally. I'm sorry, and I'm going to start making more updates. One every weekish just isn't going to cut it.
Last week was pretty uneventful. The weekend was, as always, awesome. Kind of.
Saturday the 23rd
Finishing an amazingly light (6 classes) Saturday load, I was eager to start my weekend. Ran into some of the other foreign teachers in these parts, Josh, Brandon, and Tim. Josh is an avid video gamer and comic nerd. Brandon is terribly stylish. Tim is British. They have a great groove going on. Josh and Brandon are also the first people I would classify as nerds in these parts, much to my delight.
There is something that every nerd does. Nay, that every nerd needs, and that is to geek out. This process is unique to nearly every group of nerds on the planet. It can be an intricate dance of nuance and word, a rattling off (in a style evocative of the Dueling Banjos) of statistics and data, or perhaps a rousing philosophical, theological, or political debate. It boils down to talking a lot, very quickly, about nerdy and/or geeky things.
I haven't actually, honest-to-God geeked out since I left the States. I haven't had the time, but most importantly I haven't had the contact with others. My time with E.J., Tom, and Brain was very enjoyable, but it was a more somber occasion than I would have preferred. This was because of no action (or inaction) on anyone's behalf. We were merely four friends, four brothers, united for a short period after vast gulfs of space and time had separated us all. It was a reunion and a reconnection, which left precious little time for talk of who is the better thief, Carmen Sandiego or Arsène Lupin.
I digress. I encountered the trio of gentlemen as I was on my way back home. They requested my presence at a nearby bar, the B.B.A. (Barbie's Barbecue Apartment) which I happily obliged. A quick stop home to refresh myself after a day's teaching later, I found my way into the B.B.A. What followed was a whirlwind 5 hour geek fest. Every topic I could hope for was discussed; politics, comic books, video games, tabletop gaming, psychology, and of course, personal introspection that can only come near midnight after several beers. Around 1 AM I decided to pack it in. The others were heading off to several night spots, but I decided to grab some sleep, so as to be fresh for the next day's adventures (which I had not yet planned).
Oh, how wrong I was to be. You see, near the end of my time at the B.B.A. I decided to have some french fries (fried potato in Japanese). These were delicious, but alas they were positively soaked in grease. Normally, grease doesn't bother me, but when one considers the substantial lack of grease in my diet (as I have become somewhat of a health nut after coming here) the effects on my system were monumental. I got, maybe, two hours sleep that night, between bouts of knife-in-the-gut pain and cramping. To paraphrase, it was a near-fatal intestinal maelstrom.
Dawn broke (again at the ludicrously early hour of 4 AM) to find me mindlessly surfing the internet, hoping to take my mind off of the inevitable gastrointestinal event that would end with me pale, sweating, and fearful of my life.
Sunday the 24th
I spend the entire day reading webcomics. I wanted to go out and do something, but my lack of sleep, dehydration, hourly processions to the Land of Toilets, and overcast weather sucked my energy reserves dry. I did manage to brave the wind and rain (truly ominous as they were) toward the evening to procure dinner and a bevy of beverages to see me through the night. My walk cleared my head a little, and I enjoyed very much the growing storm, the harsh winds and light rain, and the almost complete lack of people on the streets. I felt like I was almost entirely alone in the city.
K messaged me toward the end of the day, wanting to see if I had any plans for Monday. I told him that I wanted to go to Wonder Goo (media warehouse) and K's Denki (electronics store). I wanted to go to both stores today, but didn't have the time or energy, plus the storm made me leery of bringing home any delicate electronics I would buy. K and I planned to go out the next day together, to see what we could see.
After a day of (relative) relaxation, I drifted off to sleep around 2 AM
Monday the 25th
I slept through the night without any further discomfort; my difficulties had passed. Thank God. K and I met up at Doutour, a hot sandwich deli (understand that the word "deli" used here should not evoke ideas of an actual deli. Like all things Japanese, this is their own interpretation of the concept, and I use this word only because it is the closest concept my mother tongue can express) and had a nice breakfast of hot ham and cheese sandwiches. Naoko, a nice young lady that had befriended the Gaijin Gang a few weeks ago at G-Bros. found us and had breakfast, too. She's a wedding photographer and piano teacher.
Another woman, middle aged, approached out little group and wanted to know if we were English teachers. She wanted to take private lessons. My contract, and K's, prevents us from accepting any English education work outside of our respective companies, so we had to politely turn her down. However, both of us know plenty of ex-teachers who would be more than happy to take her on as a student. The woman was so happy that we would pass her request along that she bought us a round of grapefruit juice. Man, do I love grapefruit juice!
Our fast broken and our goodbyes said, K and I biked off to a nearby manga cafe, which is (shockingly) a cafe where one can read manga. K had heard of the place and wanted to see it for himself. We stopped in briefly, awed at the sheer volume of manga we were presented with. Bookshelf upon bookshelf was filled with collections of Japanese comics. Larger print magazines were found closer to the tables and stools that were the cafe section, but the entire place was easily the size of my school. We realized that we needed to buy food or drink in order to enjoy the treasure trove of comics, and since we were both quite well-fed, we decided to dash elsewhere.
We parked our bikes and headed for Hitachi-Taga, the next town south, where both Wonder Goo and K's Denki are located. One leisurely local train one stop south and another ten minutes of walking north found us at the joint parking lot shared by these two behemoths of electronic perfection.
We hit Wonder Goo first. K had never been in one before, to my amazement (he's been here nearly a year). I walked away with two old, but beloved games (Panzer Dragoon 1 and 2 for the Sega Saturn) and a really spiffy collectors edition of the Fullmetal Alchemist movie, all for just over $20 American. The used section was kind to me.
We hit K's Denki next. I was in the market for a printer; it's been ages since I've had one of my own and I miss the freedom one finds with the ability to print your own stuff out at home. Plus, I have this neat aged yellow paper that's just itching to be printed on. The initial prospects looked bad; every printer I found was covered in buttons and switches that spoke of high cost. I didn't want anything fancy, just a printer. Prints stuff, y'know? Just as K and I were about to call it a day, we found the perfect machine. Simple. Color. USB. And it only cost about $70. I snapped up the last one they had, along with a USB cable (it didn't come with one) and a power strip.
Overjoyed at my purchase, I then realized I would have an amusing time getting it back home. I wound up carrying it back. K and I found a nice shrine, a near twin to the one I found two weeks ago, and stopped for a quick photo-op. We dashed on, though, and got back to Hitachi within the hour. I bought a few bungies at the 100 yen shop, with the hopes I could lash the printer to my bike's rear platform and carry it home that way. After the Japanese lesson, I did just that. The whole way I was convinced it was on the verge of falling off (which it was), but I'm lucky like that and it didn't. I got it home in one piece. K had mentioned a night cap at G-Bros, which I dashed out for. It was a pleasant, relaxing evening with the Gang, sans a few still-working members, but after an hour or so I felt the call of fresh technology waiting to be installed.
Surprisingly, I got the printer hooked up on the first go. Very easy to unpack, connect, and install. I had a functional printer about 20 minutes after I opened the box, no fuss and no frustration. Happily installing some nice fonts and testing out the gizmo, I was delighted to find it is blazingly fast. I haven't clocked it yet, but I would be surprised if it takes more than a second to print a page.
With that, my weekend drew to a close. It felt too short, mostly because of my day spent as the living dead on Sunday, but ce la vie. This week will, hopefully, not be too bad.
I will write more tomorrow! I promise!
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Son, let me tell you about the nerd...
J80
Bit of an up and down week. Work got a bit stressful (a few more classes than I'm used to) and I started to lose sleep. Plagued with odd thoughts, but those are all but evaporated now. I'm thinking of changing up the formatting here just a bit; doing a big, end-of-the-week post like this one will be, only because so little seems to happen during the work week proper.
Tuesday
Nothing of major importance. My cooking skills continue to improve.
Wednesday
Tried on a pair of slacks I had bought in America. They were too tight for me when I came here. Now they are too loose. Ditto their companion suit jacket. Liberal application of belt has repaired the problem of the pants, but the jacket is almost comically too big for me. Awesome. In the evening I found, with the help of Will, a fraternity brother, one of my high school teachers. His name is Robert Rutledge, and he was my Latin teacher. He was one of the biggest inspirations for my life, and I've always wanted to get back in touch with him after I left high school. He's an assistant civil defense attorney in Rome, G.A. now, and I'm planning on sending him a snailmail letter or two.
Thursday
Very tired. Extra classes yesterday and today. Having to come in early to prepare for everything. Not getting much sleep. Luckily, I finished preparing for the next two days today.
Friday
Somewhat less intense than the last few days, but not by much. Got word from my dad that his mom, my Grandmother, just got back from the hospital. She's okay, but drained from the experience. She wanted to know if I was interested in having excerpts from this blog printed in a local newspaper. Very interested in this prospect. Hope to hear from people about it soon.
Saturday
The rush day. Crush day. Survived, as always. Stayed out super-late with the Gaijin Gang here. Went to G-Bros late at night, went to Big Echo Karaoke until about 3 AM, and watched the sun rise at the local Gusto Burger. Think like a Denny's, but no pancakes. The sun comes up super-early here (Japan does not have daylight saving's time). The sun rose at, I swear to God, 4 AM here. I was utterly exhausted, so I crashed for a few hours.
Sunday
After waking up from a very deep sleep, I put on some laundry (standard weekend proceedings around here) and relaxed. Played a little Deus Ex, the first video game I've touched in nearly 3 weeks. Headed out after noon to do some exploring, wound up at the nearby shrine. I got a lot of great pictures, I'll put some up tomorrow morning. After that, I decided to swing by Toy's Dream and see if I could get directions to a Recycle Shop.
I'd love to write about Toy's Dream here, but trust me when I say I'll get to it in my catchup entries. I promise!
Naoki-san, owner of Toy's Dream, is a terribly nice guy. Super nice. When I first found Toy's Dream, he gave me lots of free stuff. I took E.J. there when he was here, where they gave us even more stuff. This time he gave me some snacks...and a ride. I wanted to find a Recycle shop, and he thought for a few minutes, closed the shop, told me to lock up my bike, and drove me to Wonder Goo. Wonder Goo is what you get when you cut a Media Play and a Barnes and Noble in half and slap them together. It has a huge used media section, which delighted me to no end. In the end, I didn't buy anything, just 'cause there was so much to choose from. He drove me back to Toy's Dream and I rode back home.
Saturday night, the Gang and I had mentioned plans about going to the local arcade for, in part, some Dance Dance Revolution. After a little delay, during which I made some delicious stir fry, the arcade plan was enacted, and I met up with most of the Gang at JOYCOM. JOYCOM is filled with three things: fighting games, mah-jong games, and rhythm games. They have a DDR SuperNOVA (the latest, that I know of, arcade version of the game) which is just awesome. Claire, one of the newer teachers, from Scotland, wanted to try DDR out, so we played a few games.
Oy. I have definitely gotten more in shape since I've been here, but DDR is still the best workout I can think of. By the end of two games I was sweating like a pig, but I was still in the dance. Claire and I played a total of about 5 or 6 games, only got through maybe 4. I picked a few tough ones and we failed once or twice. Still, a great time was had by all! Those who didn't dance played fighting games for a while.
Monday
Today! Not much happened today. Had Brush Club and the Japanese Lesson, a quick stop by the grocery store, and a brief stay at G-Bros to end the weekend. I've gotten a few people interested in playing in a Dungeons & Dragons game, and I spent a good 30 minutes going over the basic rules with K. Now, I'm at home, sipping green tea and winding down the weekend.
In all, it's been an okay week. A little stressful, but I'm doing good now.
Update for the old journal tomorrow morning.
Bit of an up and down week. Work got a bit stressful (a few more classes than I'm used to) and I started to lose sleep. Plagued with odd thoughts, but those are all but evaporated now. I'm thinking of changing up the formatting here just a bit; doing a big, end-of-the-week post like this one will be, only because so little seems to happen during the work week proper.
Tuesday
Nothing of major importance. My cooking skills continue to improve.
Wednesday
Tried on a pair of slacks I had bought in America. They were too tight for me when I came here. Now they are too loose. Ditto their companion suit jacket. Liberal application of belt has repaired the problem of the pants, but the jacket is almost comically too big for me. Awesome. In the evening I found, with the help of Will, a fraternity brother, one of my high school teachers. His name is Robert Rutledge, and he was my Latin teacher. He was one of the biggest inspirations for my life, and I've always wanted to get back in touch with him after I left high school. He's an assistant civil defense attorney in Rome, G.A. now, and I'm planning on sending him a snailmail letter or two.
Thursday
Very tired. Extra classes yesterday and today. Having to come in early to prepare for everything. Not getting much sleep. Luckily, I finished preparing for the next two days today.
Friday
Somewhat less intense than the last few days, but not by much. Got word from my dad that his mom, my Grandmother, just got back from the hospital. She's okay, but drained from the experience. She wanted to know if I was interested in having excerpts from this blog printed in a local newspaper. Very interested in this prospect. Hope to hear from people about it soon.
Saturday
The rush day. Crush day. Survived, as always. Stayed out super-late with the Gaijin Gang here. Went to G-Bros late at night, went to Big Echo Karaoke until about 3 AM, and watched the sun rise at the local Gusto Burger. Think like a Denny's, but no pancakes. The sun comes up super-early here (Japan does not have daylight saving's time). The sun rose at, I swear to God, 4 AM here. I was utterly exhausted, so I crashed for a few hours.
Sunday
After waking up from a very deep sleep, I put on some laundry (standard weekend proceedings around here) and relaxed. Played a little Deus Ex, the first video game I've touched in nearly 3 weeks. Headed out after noon to do some exploring, wound up at the nearby shrine. I got a lot of great pictures, I'll put some up tomorrow morning. After that, I decided to swing by Toy's Dream and see if I could get directions to a Recycle Shop.
I'd love to write about Toy's Dream here, but trust me when I say I'll get to it in my catchup entries. I promise!
Naoki-san, owner of Toy's Dream, is a terribly nice guy. Super nice. When I first found Toy's Dream, he gave me lots of free stuff. I took E.J. there when he was here, where they gave us even more stuff. This time he gave me some snacks...and a ride. I wanted to find a Recycle shop, and he thought for a few minutes, closed the shop, told me to lock up my bike, and drove me to Wonder Goo. Wonder Goo is what you get when you cut a Media Play and a Barnes and Noble in half and slap them together. It has a huge used media section, which delighted me to no end. In the end, I didn't buy anything, just 'cause there was so much to choose from. He drove me back to Toy's Dream and I rode back home.
Saturday night, the Gang and I had mentioned plans about going to the local arcade for, in part, some Dance Dance Revolution. After a little delay, during which I made some delicious stir fry, the arcade plan was enacted, and I met up with most of the Gang at JOYCOM. JOYCOM is filled with three things: fighting games, mah-jong games, and rhythm games. They have a DDR SuperNOVA (the latest, that I know of, arcade version of the game) which is just awesome. Claire, one of the newer teachers, from Scotland, wanted to try DDR out, so we played a few games.
Oy. I have definitely gotten more in shape since I've been here, but DDR is still the best workout I can think of. By the end of two games I was sweating like a pig, but I was still in the dance. Claire and I played a total of about 5 or 6 games, only got through maybe 4. I picked a few tough ones and we failed once or twice. Still, a great time was had by all! Those who didn't dance played fighting games for a while.
Monday
Today! Not much happened today. Had Brush Club and the Japanese Lesson, a quick stop by the grocery store, and a brief stay at G-Bros to end the weekend. I've gotten a few people interested in playing in a Dungeons & Dragons game, and I spent a good 30 minutes going over the basic rules with K. Now, I'm at home, sipping green tea and winding down the weekend.
In all, it's been an okay week. A little stressful, but I'm doing good now.
Update for the old journal tomorrow morning.
Monday, June 11, 2007
And now, for the rest of the week.
J79 Tuesday, June 12th 2007
So, that was last last Sunday. Monday was spent...uhh...resting. I attended Brush Club, the kanji practice lesson organized and run by the other foreign teachers in Hitachi. After that was the Japanese Lesson, also run by the same group of people. We all get together and practice our collective Japanese knowledge, filling in the gaps with what we know. It's terribly useful, and I'm remembering a lot more than I thought I would. My kanji is getting a little better, too, though I really need to practice it.
Then the next week was somewhat business as usual. It was Counseling Week, where my students come in for counseling instead of classes. We talk to them about their strengths and weaknesses, and we suggest courses, materials, and study habits to help their progress. Sessions are short, only half an hour, and every day I had easily double the amount of break that I normally do. It was a relaxing week at work, all things considered.
The only thing of note was my manager requesting I come in a few hours on Monday to help pass out fliers at the nearby university. Now, a quick bit of info for the uninformed: when your Japanese boss asks you to do something, they are not actually asking you. They are telling you, but they are being polite. So, despite my want to *not* work on my day off, I agreed. Arguing would only make me look bad and unreliable in her eyes, which I'd rather not be considered.
Come Saturday night, as always, I headed out to G-Bros to enjoy drinks, gyoza, and good company. The night was enjoyable, and much fun was had. Many drinks were consumed, songs sung, and games played.
Sunday I wanted to go exploring again, but the weather was overcast and poor. I struck out anyway, but found myself rapidly drained of energy. The rain sucked the life force right out of me, and I didn't last long. I managed to find a media store nearby, called Fooding Zone (though it did not sell food). I found a nice video game/DVD/music section and bought a discount movie, Grasshoppa 4, a collection of short films and animation. Home I went toward, but heavy rain forced me to find cover in the nearby Sakura City department store. I decided to kill some time in the arcade there, slaughtering legions of zombies in the copy of House of the Dead 4 that lived there. I attracted a crowd as I played, as foreigners almost always do when playing a game in public. I did rather well for myself as things go, but some of the bosses toward the end are nearly impossible to defeat without dying once or twice.
The rain had stopped while I waged war against my undead foes, so I bought a few groceries in Sakura City's basement (which is like a small Kroger) and headed home before the maelstrom started up again. I watched a few segments of Grasshoppa and set about downloading some more media for AMV projects. I've gotten inspired, and I think I'll finally have the time to devote to the hobby of amateur video editing now.
Monday was beautiful. Bright, clear sky, and big puffy clouds. Not a raincloud in sight. I was up and awake early, and I headed off to work. We grabbed a taxi to the University, having to keep our big sign wedged between our selves and the front seat. We passed out fliers and tissues for the better part of an hour and a half. When we got back to the station, where my school is located *and* where the taxis idle waiting for passengers, I came back home and started writing these blog entries.
Then I had to get to my lessons. Brush Club, then the Japanese lesson. Starting at 2 and ending at 7, they're leisurely but informative, with plenty of space for breaks and food. I came back to my apartment again in the evening, recuperating after the mental exertion. The gang was gathering at G-Bros again for a quick drink, a sort of end-of-weekend farewell until next week. Several of the group have their weekend just starting now, actually, which is sort of funny to think about. I got back by 11, fixed myself some riceballs, and was asleep by midnight.
And now, as always, I must grab a shower and get to work. I have to prepare for my lessons today and tomorrow before the day is done, and the school opens in about 45 minutes. Time to dash!
So, that was last last Sunday. Monday was spent...uhh...resting. I attended Brush Club, the kanji practice lesson organized and run by the other foreign teachers in Hitachi. After that was the Japanese Lesson, also run by the same group of people. We all get together and practice our collective Japanese knowledge, filling in the gaps with what we know. It's terribly useful, and I'm remembering a lot more than I thought I would. My kanji is getting a little better, too, though I really need to practice it.
Then the next week was somewhat business as usual. It was Counseling Week, where my students come in for counseling instead of classes. We talk to them about their strengths and weaknesses, and we suggest courses, materials, and study habits to help their progress. Sessions are short, only half an hour, and every day I had easily double the amount of break that I normally do. It was a relaxing week at work, all things considered.
The only thing of note was my manager requesting I come in a few hours on Monday to help pass out fliers at the nearby university. Now, a quick bit of info for the uninformed: when your Japanese boss asks you to do something, they are not actually asking you. They are telling you, but they are being polite. So, despite my want to *not* work on my day off, I agreed. Arguing would only make me look bad and unreliable in her eyes, which I'd rather not be considered.
Come Saturday night, as always, I headed out to G-Bros to enjoy drinks, gyoza, and good company. The night was enjoyable, and much fun was had. Many drinks were consumed, songs sung, and games played.
Sunday I wanted to go exploring again, but the weather was overcast and poor. I struck out anyway, but found myself rapidly drained of energy. The rain sucked the life force right out of me, and I didn't last long. I managed to find a media store nearby, called Fooding Zone (though it did not sell food). I found a nice video game/DVD/music section and bought a discount movie, Grasshoppa 4, a collection of short films and animation. Home I went toward, but heavy rain forced me to find cover in the nearby Sakura City department store. I decided to kill some time in the arcade there, slaughtering legions of zombies in the copy of House of the Dead 4 that lived there. I attracted a crowd as I played, as foreigners almost always do when playing a game in public. I did rather well for myself as things go, but some of the bosses toward the end are nearly impossible to defeat without dying once or twice.
The rain had stopped while I waged war against my undead foes, so I bought a few groceries in Sakura City's basement (which is like a small Kroger) and headed home before the maelstrom started up again. I watched a few segments of Grasshoppa and set about downloading some more media for AMV projects. I've gotten inspired, and I think I'll finally have the time to devote to the hobby of amateur video editing now.
Monday was beautiful. Bright, clear sky, and big puffy clouds. Not a raincloud in sight. I was up and awake early, and I headed off to work. We grabbed a taxi to the University, having to keep our big sign wedged between our selves and the front seat. We passed out fliers and tissues for the better part of an hour and a half. When we got back to the station, where my school is located *and* where the taxis idle waiting for passengers, I came back home and started writing these blog entries.
Then I had to get to my lessons. Brush Club, then the Japanese lesson. Starting at 2 and ending at 7, they're leisurely but informative, with plenty of space for breaks and food. I came back to my apartment again in the evening, recuperating after the mental exertion. The gang was gathering at G-Bros again for a quick drink, a sort of end-of-weekend farewell until next week. Several of the group have their weekend just starting now, actually, which is sort of funny to think about. I got back by 11, fixed myself some riceballs, and was asleep by midnight.
And now, as always, I must grab a shower and get to work. I have to prepare for my lessons today and tomorrow before the day is done, and the school opens in about 45 minutes. Time to dash!
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Part 2: The Sequel. II
J78 Monday, June 11th 2007
Okay, I really need to do this more often.
To continue from my last post about last Sunday (a week ago):
I saw a small torii, shinto gate, at the top of a tiny mountain. More like a huge hill with steep sides. There was a switchback carved into the rock face, and coated with concrete in a cool warped grid pattern. These sorts of earthworks are everywhere here in Japan, but I'd never seen one so up close.
I parked and locked up my bike at the foot of the mini mountain and started my ascent. I found the torii lead to a pair of small shrines on a tiny plateau. I left some offerings at both and looked out across the valley. Nestled between the spurs of the mountains were the little neighborhood I had biked through. I could see the martial arts gym and the massive factories behind it, their machines singing deep in the baritone registry of industrial machinery.
I noticed a path leading up the mountain, beyond the plateau I was on. I decided to see where it went. Up I walked, though somewhat dense underbrush. Tall grass and shrubs, bowing trees, and everywhere young bamboo grew. The path was overgrown, but still visible, and I had no trouble following my way up the mountain. After about 10 minutes of navigating the undergrowth, I found myself at a curious sight. Exiting the lush, green forest, I discovered that the mountain continued in an expanse of fine black sand. Large pipes snaked their way through the air before me, a low and constant rasp speaking of their rushing contents. The occasional hiss of loosed gas would crescendo from the various junctions and valves that the pipes twisted through.
I had found my way into a quarry. I'd seen it before, during Golden Week, from the valley below. I ducked beneath the piping, eager to see what else was there, when I heard voices. Guards? Miners? I found a paved road and crept up it, quick and quiet. To my shock, just around a wide bend, I found a baseball field. Here, halfway up the mountains, wedged between a highway an a rock quarry, was a baseball field. On it, a team was practicing. I nodded a greeting to those who saw me, and they smiled back. I rested in the shade, the first chance to do so after visiting the dojo nearly an hour previous. I watched them practice, and I have to say they were good.
Their uniforms were blue and white. One team, but the players alternated home and away colors, so as to have two virtual teams with which to practice. They had a pitcher, but he didn't throw the ball. Instead, he mimed the action, and right next to him another player would push a ball into a batting machine, hurling a perfect pitch to the batter. It was funny to watch the pitcher put his all into a phantom throw, but I guess it was good practice for his gross body movements.
I watched for the better part of an hour, resting and wishing I had a drink. The teams hit a lot of deep shots. Their teamwork was good, but like all things in the sports world they had room to improve. After my rest I stood up again to explore the quarry.
It was like being on another planet. I walked down a gentle hill of equipment-packed black sand into the main pit. All around me were towering hills of the stuff. Refuse littered the ground, but all finely pulverized. Bottles, spare bits of equipment, even printed circuit boards were present, but all shattered by some unknown force and distributed across a large area. Huge tracks of heavy equipment flanked me as I descended, but not a soul was present. Over this alien landscape was another factory, probably a refinery or processing plant. No one noticed my presence, though, or if they did they didn't bother me. I was quite alone; not even the shouts of the ball game reached me, despite the relative proximity of the playing field.
I noticed lots of animal tracks. Small ones and big ones. Something told me it was probably foxes and wolves. I found them pretty, and a little reassuring. I hadn't seen any wild animals aside from birds, and I had begun to wonder if they had been driven off due to the heavy industry that peppers Japan's landscape. These tracks were fresh, though, no more than two weeks old, if that. As an amusing aside, when I told this part to some of my friends here, a few of those gathered got a little freaked out. They said that had they have seen wolf tracks, they would have left immediately. Just kind of funny, 'cause I never felt any discomfort of unease.
The sand soon gave way to hard, dry dirt, which in turn gave way to the green of the mountain. I decided to turn around, figuring it was probably about time to head back. The heat wasn't bad, but it was constant, and without a drink I knew I would get dehydrated if I stayed out much longer. I was already beginning to feel the fatigue set in from my day's exertions. I ascended the long sand ramp, kicking up a smoky black dust with every step. I took a short detour to the other side of the quarry, having seen a few interesting objects on my initial descent. I found an old, abandoned civilian bus. The keys were still in it, but no signs of habitation were present. A bucket of brown water was filled with cigarette butts, and there was a baseball on the console. The doors were unlocked, too. I had a brief temptation to have a joyride, but I then realized the size of the book they'd throw at me, and thought better of it.
The side of the quarry I found myself on was very flat, aside from the land that had been chewed up by equipment below me. I was on top of a cliff of black sand. More prints, foxes on this side I think, and even less vegetation. I felt exhaustion's inexorable tug again, somewhat more urgently. I trudged back to the lip of the black sand mountain and began a (gravity assisted) descent down the mountain. I passed the shrines, and left another offering at both of them in thanks for a safe trip up and down their mountain path. It was another quick minute, and I was back at my bike at the foot of the mountain. Over 2 hours had passed.
I made my way back along a familiar road. Atop another ridge I saw something that reminded me of something E.J. had said. He talked about exploring on his own, finding a huge graveyard on the side of a hill and a large temple complex that accompanied it. I pulled my bike up a steep flight of stairs (they have ramps on either side for bikes to be pulled, luckily) and found myself face to face with the temple E.J. had found almost a month ago.
A large temple greeted me, friendly and old, it's once-black roof tiles stained a sky blue after years of rain and exposure. My bike left at the foot of a small set of stairs, I trudged up to the temple, in awe at the beauty that surrounded me but still exhausted. I left an offering, said a prayer, and continued to look around. This complex was very active, as temples in Japan go. Most temples and shrines that I've been to don't have active caretakers. Bigger ones can, sometimes, but most of them are so small or remote that the few monks and priests that exist can't stay at them all the time. Most are left to their own devices. Popular or easily accessed ones are cleaned semi-annually by roaming caretakers. But this one, thanks to its massive, popular graveyard and close proximity to Hitachi, was staffed by no less than 2 priests that I saw, with evidence to suggest more.
As I wandered one said hi. He spoke a little English, and we had a short conversation. He was a young man, maybe a few years older than my 24. He was really friendly, with a big smile that came out often. He wanted to know the standard battery of questions: where was I from, what did I do for a living, how old I was. When I told him I was a teacher here in Hitachi I swear his ears perked up. It's somewhat rare to see a foreigner living in an area as rural as Hitachi, and he was positively delighted.
He left me to attend his duties, and I strolled around the graveyard for a little while. Still, my strength was fading fast, and I knew I needed to get back home. So, with a parting bow to the temple, I hopped on my bike and raced home. I took a detour, hoping to find a Recycle shop nearby. Recycle shops are used goods stores that sell a variety of previously-owned merchandise, much like a thrift store, but things tend to be in better condition. Since space is such a premium, people in Japan tend to resell their old media, books, comics, music, DVDs, instead of boxing it up or throwing it away. It nets them some cash, clears up space at home, and (yay for me!) lets poor or cheap people buy stuff at low prices.
Alas, after half an hour of going up and down massive foothills along side a busy highway, I decided to call it a day. Finally, after hours of walking and hiking and taking pictures I headed home. Down massive hills. On a bike. Cue the Dukes of Hazzard music. I was doing 40 mph, easy, dodging pedestrians (of which there were few) and the obstacle course that is the sidewalk as I streaked downhill and back toward home.
When I finally got back, in one piece, I cooked dinner and collapsed in my office chair, soaking up the internet, before falling into a blissful slumber.
Okay, I really need to do this more often.
To continue from my last post about last Sunday (a week ago):
I saw a small torii, shinto gate, at the top of a tiny mountain. More like a huge hill with steep sides. There was a switchback carved into the rock face, and coated with concrete in a cool warped grid pattern. These sorts of earthworks are everywhere here in Japan, but I'd never seen one so up close.
I parked and locked up my bike at the foot of the mini mountain and started my ascent. I found the torii lead to a pair of small shrines on a tiny plateau. I left some offerings at both and looked out across the valley. Nestled between the spurs of the mountains were the little neighborhood I had biked through. I could see the martial arts gym and the massive factories behind it, their machines singing deep in the baritone registry of industrial machinery.
I noticed a path leading up the mountain, beyond the plateau I was on. I decided to see where it went. Up I walked, though somewhat dense underbrush. Tall grass and shrubs, bowing trees, and everywhere young bamboo grew. The path was overgrown, but still visible, and I had no trouble following my way up the mountain. After about 10 minutes of navigating the undergrowth, I found myself at a curious sight. Exiting the lush, green forest, I discovered that the mountain continued in an expanse of fine black sand. Large pipes snaked their way through the air before me, a low and constant rasp speaking of their rushing contents. The occasional hiss of loosed gas would crescendo from the various junctions and valves that the pipes twisted through.
I had found my way into a quarry. I'd seen it before, during Golden Week, from the valley below. I ducked beneath the piping, eager to see what else was there, when I heard voices. Guards? Miners? I found a paved road and crept up it, quick and quiet. To my shock, just around a wide bend, I found a baseball field. Here, halfway up the mountains, wedged between a highway an a rock quarry, was a baseball field. On it, a team was practicing. I nodded a greeting to those who saw me, and they smiled back. I rested in the shade, the first chance to do so after visiting the dojo nearly an hour previous. I watched them practice, and I have to say they were good.
Their uniforms were blue and white. One team, but the players alternated home and away colors, so as to have two virtual teams with which to practice. They had a pitcher, but he didn't throw the ball. Instead, he mimed the action, and right next to him another player would push a ball into a batting machine, hurling a perfect pitch to the batter. It was funny to watch the pitcher put his all into a phantom throw, but I guess it was good practice for his gross body movements.
I watched for the better part of an hour, resting and wishing I had a drink. The teams hit a lot of deep shots. Their teamwork was good, but like all things in the sports world they had room to improve. After my rest I stood up again to explore the quarry.
It was like being on another planet. I walked down a gentle hill of equipment-packed black sand into the main pit. All around me were towering hills of the stuff. Refuse littered the ground, but all finely pulverized. Bottles, spare bits of equipment, even printed circuit boards were present, but all shattered by some unknown force and distributed across a large area. Huge tracks of heavy equipment flanked me as I descended, but not a soul was present. Over this alien landscape was another factory, probably a refinery or processing plant. No one noticed my presence, though, or if they did they didn't bother me. I was quite alone; not even the shouts of the ball game reached me, despite the relative proximity of the playing field.
I noticed lots of animal tracks. Small ones and big ones. Something told me it was probably foxes and wolves. I found them pretty, and a little reassuring. I hadn't seen any wild animals aside from birds, and I had begun to wonder if they had been driven off due to the heavy industry that peppers Japan's landscape. These tracks were fresh, though, no more than two weeks old, if that. As an amusing aside, when I told this part to some of my friends here, a few of those gathered got a little freaked out. They said that had they have seen wolf tracks, they would have left immediately. Just kind of funny, 'cause I never felt any discomfort of unease.
The sand soon gave way to hard, dry dirt, which in turn gave way to the green of the mountain. I decided to turn around, figuring it was probably about time to head back. The heat wasn't bad, but it was constant, and without a drink I knew I would get dehydrated if I stayed out much longer. I was already beginning to feel the fatigue set in from my day's exertions. I ascended the long sand ramp, kicking up a smoky black dust with every step. I took a short detour to the other side of the quarry, having seen a few interesting objects on my initial descent. I found an old, abandoned civilian bus. The keys were still in it, but no signs of habitation were present. A bucket of brown water was filled with cigarette butts, and there was a baseball on the console. The doors were unlocked, too. I had a brief temptation to have a joyride, but I then realized the size of the book they'd throw at me, and thought better of it.
The side of the quarry I found myself on was very flat, aside from the land that had been chewed up by equipment below me. I was on top of a cliff of black sand. More prints, foxes on this side I think, and even less vegetation. I felt exhaustion's inexorable tug again, somewhat more urgently. I trudged back to the lip of the black sand mountain and began a (gravity assisted) descent down the mountain. I passed the shrines, and left another offering at both of them in thanks for a safe trip up and down their mountain path. It was another quick minute, and I was back at my bike at the foot of the mountain. Over 2 hours had passed.
I made my way back along a familiar road. Atop another ridge I saw something that reminded me of something E.J. had said. He talked about exploring on his own, finding a huge graveyard on the side of a hill and a large temple complex that accompanied it. I pulled my bike up a steep flight of stairs (they have ramps on either side for bikes to be pulled, luckily) and found myself face to face with the temple E.J. had found almost a month ago.
A large temple greeted me, friendly and old, it's once-black roof tiles stained a sky blue after years of rain and exposure. My bike left at the foot of a small set of stairs, I trudged up to the temple, in awe at the beauty that surrounded me but still exhausted. I left an offering, said a prayer, and continued to look around. This complex was very active, as temples in Japan go. Most temples and shrines that I've been to don't have active caretakers. Bigger ones can, sometimes, but most of them are so small or remote that the few monks and priests that exist can't stay at them all the time. Most are left to their own devices. Popular or easily accessed ones are cleaned semi-annually by roaming caretakers. But this one, thanks to its massive, popular graveyard and close proximity to Hitachi, was staffed by no less than 2 priests that I saw, with evidence to suggest more.
As I wandered one said hi. He spoke a little English, and we had a short conversation. He was a young man, maybe a few years older than my 24. He was really friendly, with a big smile that came out often. He wanted to know the standard battery of questions: where was I from, what did I do for a living, how old I was. When I told him I was a teacher here in Hitachi I swear his ears perked up. It's somewhat rare to see a foreigner living in an area as rural as Hitachi, and he was positively delighted.
He left me to attend his duties, and I strolled around the graveyard for a little while. Still, my strength was fading fast, and I knew I needed to get back home. So, with a parting bow to the temple, I hopped on my bike and raced home. I took a detour, hoping to find a Recycle shop nearby. Recycle shops are used goods stores that sell a variety of previously-owned merchandise, much like a thrift store, but things tend to be in better condition. Since space is such a premium, people in Japan tend to resell their old media, books, comics, music, DVDs, instead of boxing it up or throwing it away. It nets them some cash, clears up space at home, and (yay for me!) lets poor or cheap people buy stuff at low prices.
Alas, after half an hour of going up and down massive foothills along side a busy highway, I decided to call it a day. Finally, after hours of walking and hiking and taking pictures I headed home. Down massive hills. On a bike. Cue the Dukes of Hazzard music. I was doing 40 mph, easy, dodging pedestrians (of which there were few) and the obstacle course that is the sidewalk as I streaked downhill and back toward home.
When I finally got back, in one piece, I cooked dinner and collapsed in my office chair, soaking up the internet, before falling into a blissful slumber.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Breathe in.....breathe out
J77 Wednesday, June 6th 2007
Exploring was had after my post on Sunday. Ooooooh, the exploring.
During Golden Week I went exploring for a while in Hitachi. For two days I wandered around, on bike and on foot, seeing what this little town was like away from the hustle and bustle of the main strip. I use those terms very lightly, but still. It's a totally different world. It feels like something out of a Ghibli movie. Small, cozy homes nestled in tight networks of self-referencing roads. The non-urban areas of Japan are built like brains; folded in on themselves so as to provide the greatest possible amount of space to the user.
I began my journey with a quick stop at my bank for some cash, and then a conbini for breakfast. I got off the main road quickly, and meandered through the back streets. I came to an area that had a brand-spanking new road, but was surrounded with empty grass lots and truly dilapidated housing. A common aesthetic in Japan is extreme age in buildings, though this is not on purpose from what I can glean. Housing can be very old, and people will still live in them. My apartment's age is hard to pin down, but it's well-kept and structurally stable.
I was in the (relative) flatlands of Hitachi. Hitachi is built between the Pacific Ocean and a sizeable range of small mountains, with maybe a distance of a mile between the two major land features. Hitachi runs north south for miles and miles, merging with cities to the north and south. The only low-density areas are toward the mountains themselves, and that's the part I love the best. I headed to the mountains to the north, where I had heard there was a martial arts gym of some kind. My mission for the day was to find it.
I wandered through a small neighborhood, stopping at a dry riverbank to have my breakfast. A nearby baseball field and junior high school sang with the cries of children playing sports. Across the bank, a steady trickle of young boys stomped their way through the undergrowth to parts unknown, setting off for home or grand adventure on a day that was a picturesque summer idyll. I found beehives nearby, and grabbed a few shots of the riverbed itself.
Then I ascended. Up I went, up and to the north west. I knew roughly where I wanted to go, but I wanted to get there a new way than I had before. I found myself hiking up side roads and access streets, up switchbacks and between houses, always up. I was climbing a small spur of the mountains upon which homes were built. I saw across from me, standing at the edge of one street, the local park/zoo/graveyard perched on a mountain across a wide, shallow valley. I knew that marked the far end of my search zone. Up I went, still, searching for something before my descent into the valley.
I found a road down and took it, pausing at a small dead-end street that went briefly up again. I got to the top of the dead end and saw, peeking out from the lip of a small cliff, a temple gate. I investigated, negotiated with the resident cat guardian, and found myself in a small garden. At the back of the garden was a tiny shrine. I payed my respects and thanked the tiny spirit enshrined for the view, and went back down.
I wound my way down, finding myself on the main road again, but this time much closer to my destination than when I had left it. Not a quarter mile from exiting the twisty paths of the mountain neighborhoods I found the Hitachi Martial Arts Gym. I took no pictures from the inside, out of respect for the old place, so my words will have to suffice.
It was beautiful. And old. There was no one inside, save an old caretaker who stayed locked in his little room. I left my shoes at the rack and crammed my feet into the largest pair of slippers they had. It was like walking in children's shoes. The dojo's architecture was simple enough; a giant, open, two-story tall square room ringed by two levels of hallways. I walked around as best I could; many of the corridors were sealed and blocked. I found the equipment locker covered in dust, a handful of kendo practice swords and armor pieces the nesting ground for dust bunnies. One shinai, kendo sword, stood out. It was in a beautiful black leather case. The other shinai were tattered and old, some on the verge of falling apart. But the one inside the case was beautiful. Worn, yes, old, yes, but not crumbling. It lacked a handguard, but I gingerly drew it anyway. After a moment of holding it, I reverently replaced it in its case, and put the whole thing back in the nest of swords. I thought for a moment of asking to take it with me, but I knew there would be no way.
I stayed a while longer, bowing and meditating on the hardwood gym floor. It still smelled like a dojo; sweat and uniform canvas, leather and nylon, dust and bruises. I relaxed and felt the cool afternoon breeze playing through the open doors, tickling the aged pictures and awards hanging from the walls around me.
I left, at last, and took a few parting pictures from the outside. Then I saw a small shrine at the top of a miniature mountain. I knew that was where I was going next.
Alas, that will have to wait for the next time, for now I must get ready for work.
Exploring was had after my post on Sunday. Ooooooh, the exploring.
During Golden Week I went exploring for a while in Hitachi. For two days I wandered around, on bike and on foot, seeing what this little town was like away from the hustle and bustle of the main strip. I use those terms very lightly, but still. It's a totally different world. It feels like something out of a Ghibli movie. Small, cozy homes nestled in tight networks of self-referencing roads. The non-urban areas of Japan are built like brains; folded in on themselves so as to provide the greatest possible amount of space to the user.
I began my journey with a quick stop at my bank for some cash, and then a conbini for breakfast. I got off the main road quickly, and meandered through the back streets. I came to an area that had a brand-spanking new road, but was surrounded with empty grass lots and truly dilapidated housing. A common aesthetic in Japan is extreme age in buildings, though this is not on purpose from what I can glean. Housing can be very old, and people will still live in them. My apartment's age is hard to pin down, but it's well-kept and structurally stable.
I was in the (relative) flatlands of Hitachi. Hitachi is built between the Pacific Ocean and a sizeable range of small mountains, with maybe a distance of a mile between the two major land features. Hitachi runs north south for miles and miles, merging with cities to the north and south. The only low-density areas are toward the mountains themselves, and that's the part I love the best. I headed to the mountains to the north, where I had heard there was a martial arts gym of some kind. My mission for the day was to find it.
I wandered through a small neighborhood, stopping at a dry riverbank to have my breakfast. A nearby baseball field and junior high school sang with the cries of children playing sports. Across the bank, a steady trickle of young boys stomped their way through the undergrowth to parts unknown, setting off for home or grand adventure on a day that was a picturesque summer idyll. I found beehives nearby, and grabbed a few shots of the riverbed itself.
Then I ascended. Up I went, up and to the north west. I knew roughly where I wanted to go, but I wanted to get there a new way than I had before. I found myself hiking up side roads and access streets, up switchbacks and between houses, always up. I was climbing a small spur of the mountains upon which homes were built. I saw across from me, standing at the edge of one street, the local park/zoo/graveyard perched on a mountain across a wide, shallow valley. I knew that marked the far end of my search zone. Up I went, still, searching for something before my descent into the valley.
I found a road down and took it, pausing at a small dead-end street that went briefly up again. I got to the top of the dead end and saw, peeking out from the lip of a small cliff, a temple gate. I investigated, negotiated with the resident cat guardian, and found myself in a small garden. At the back of the garden was a tiny shrine. I payed my respects and thanked the tiny spirit enshrined for the view, and went back down.
I wound my way down, finding myself on the main road again, but this time much closer to my destination than when I had left it. Not a quarter mile from exiting the twisty paths of the mountain neighborhoods I found the Hitachi Martial Arts Gym. I took no pictures from the inside, out of respect for the old place, so my words will have to suffice.
It was beautiful. And old. There was no one inside, save an old caretaker who stayed locked in his little room. I left my shoes at the rack and crammed my feet into the largest pair of slippers they had. It was like walking in children's shoes. The dojo's architecture was simple enough; a giant, open, two-story tall square room ringed by two levels of hallways. I walked around as best I could; many of the corridors were sealed and blocked. I found the equipment locker covered in dust, a handful of kendo practice swords and armor pieces the nesting ground for dust bunnies. One shinai, kendo sword, stood out. It was in a beautiful black leather case. The other shinai were tattered and old, some on the verge of falling apart. But the one inside the case was beautiful. Worn, yes, old, yes, but not crumbling. It lacked a handguard, but I gingerly drew it anyway. After a moment of holding it, I reverently replaced it in its case, and put the whole thing back in the nest of swords. I thought for a moment of asking to take it with me, but I knew there would be no way.
I stayed a while longer, bowing and meditating on the hardwood gym floor. It still smelled like a dojo; sweat and uniform canvas, leather and nylon, dust and bruises. I relaxed and felt the cool afternoon breeze playing through the open doors, tickling the aged pictures and awards hanging from the walls around me.
I left, at last, and took a few parting pictures from the outside. Then I saw a small shrine at the top of a miniature mountain. I knew that was where I was going next.
Alas, that will have to wait for the next time, for now I must get ready for work.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
*rumble* hehe
J76 Sunday, June 3rd 2007
Wee earthquakes! Yesterday and the day before Hitachi was subject to three little earthquakes, though the last one was by far the strongest I've felt since I've come to Japan. I've experienced about 7 earthquakes, that I remember, though my students have claimed to feel some that I haven't.
Earthquakes are different in Japan than in California. Japanese earthquakes are slightly more gentle, with a side-to-side motion rather than an up-down motion. Of course, this is being 'gentle' on a geolithic scale, so they can still feel pretty violent. No worries, though; all the ones I've been through have been quite calm.
So, yesterday was Saturday, the day of Doom. I'll tell you about them, now.
Saturdays are the busy day. The final push. They're for all the people that don't have time during the working week to come in to class. People who miss classes during the week can usually make them up on Saturdays, too. What results is an early, super-busy day. I had 7 classes yesterday, starting at 10 AM. Remember how I normally get into work between 11:30 and 12:30? Yeah, not on Saturday.
My day starts off with 4 classes in a row. Then I get an hour break. Then another two classes back-to-back, and finally my last class. Everything ends at 7, at which point we do our cleaning and prep-for-tomorrow stuff again, and then dash off to enjoy Saturday night. My weekends are Sunday/Monday, but my weekend truly begins after work on Saturday. Imagine the excitement of both Friday and Saturday night, crammed into one.
What do I do on my weekends? I'm glad you asked! Saturday night is usually spent at the local gyoza bar, G-Bros. Gyoza are Japanese dumplings; filled with any number of delicious meats and/or veggies, they can be steamed, boiled, grilled, or fried. G-Bros. is run by two brothers, Hiro and Tomo, who are both bikers. Hiro speaks pretty good English, and Tomo is learning thanks in part to the number of foreigners that hang out there. It's our go-to spot, our fall back. It's the place all we foreigners know and love and can meet at, come rain or shine. The hosts are friendly and welcoming.
It took me a few weeks to haul my butt down to G-Bros., mostly due to exhaustion. But once I had recuperated from my lessons, I took a trip with M-sensei there, and was blown away. It was just so awesome. They have a great big plasma TV, usually tuned to an international MTV-like channel with no VJs, just music videos. You can order all sorts of American, European, and Japanese beverages. I've embraced Japanese beer (a variety of alcohol I thought I would never like) and I've even come to like Guinness. They serve a mean caesar salad (my usual dish) but the gyoza is what I really love.
I have many favorites. Chicken and onion is tasty. Super garlic is amazing. Pork and kim-chee is rapidly becoming my favorite. But the king that sits upon the throne has to be their Apple Pie Gyoza. I swear to God. They stuff little gyoza skins with home-made apple pie filling, fry them so the skins become like pie crust, then serve with a dollop of vanilla ice cream, a spoonful of whipped cream, a side of apple goo, and the whole thing is sprinkled with cinnamon. Indescribable in its deliciousness.
The gang I hang with is a diverse group. K is sort of the leader, having been here nearly the longest. He's from Manchester, UK, and works for an English school called Geos. Dan, an ex-restaurant owner-now-surfer is from Australia, also in Geos. Clive, who got to Hitachi my third week here, is from South London, and works at Nova. There's Pura and Gina, Nova teacher roomies from the States (Florida and somewhere else, I think). Ginie and Claire, also Nova teacher roomies (from somewhere and Glasgow, Scottland). Claire is almost the newest teacher, just barely being beaten by Clive's new roomie Matt, from Canada (also a Nova teacher). And, of course, M-sensei, my co worker, from Detroit, then Arizona, and finally Seattle.
After we have a grand old time drinking and talking and relaxing, I usually head home around 1 or 2 AM. Some nights we've done things as a group. We played Capture the Flag when E.J. was here one Saturday night. Last night the gang went to Mito to go clubbing, but I had other plans, plus a burning need to actually get 8 hours of sleep. I relaxed at home by myself for the first time in nearly a month last night, and I feel about 10 times better for it.
It's 11:30 AM now, and I want to get out of the apartment. There's a martial arts gym to the north of town that I want to check out, and I'm feeling up and at-em for a good bike ride. I am a bit hungry, though, so I'll probably grab a small breakfast at a convenience store (shortened to conbini in Japanese slang).
I've gotten to missing a lot of my old life. Nothing too weepy or soul-crushing, but I'll remember something I used to do and miss it a little, from time to time. I wish I could find some good crafting materials, just to keep my skills up. What I wouldn't give for my craft boxes; my yards of leather and nylon line, my beads and trinkets and clasps.
And now, an Old Journal post! Amazing!
--------------------------------------------------
[Original day written: Tuesday, February 27th 2007 at 11:50AM]
J5.0
Miyagi-taicho (taicho = captain/boss) is here. The president of my company, the founder. On the rare occasion that I would see a Japanese business man in Atlanta, I would always get an odd vibe from them. One almost of serenity, of inscrutability. I guess that's a cultural aspect the Japanese have cultivated through the ages, because I certainly feel that now. Miyagi-taicho is very...present. When he's in the room all eyes fall to him. He gave a speech about our duties as teachers and what was important in our jobs. Mostly a lot of boring corp-speak, but some of it was interesting. Especially the time when he demonstrated his chi flow.
Chi (pronounced "ki" or "key") is an Asian metaphysical concept, namely that within us flows energy that can be manipulated. It can influence our mood, and vice versa. Crazy martial artists claim they can leap tall buildings and punch through walls using chi, but mostly the theories and practices are about mental and physical balance and health. Miyagi-taicho demonstrated how his chi flow changed his body, and he claimed, both his attitude and the attitude of anyone he was teaching. It was...different. He would say a phrase that was either negative or positive, and then have one of the trainees push him. If he said something negative ("I hate you.") his body became easy to push. If he said something positive ("I love you.") his body became resilient and immobile. The trainee who pushed him swore he didn't feel Miyagi-taicho's body change in any way during the demonstration.
Spoooooooooooky.
I teach tonight...
J5.1
My first teaching assignment is a success! I instructed 5 Japanese women through a basic lesson. I was amazed that they were actually learning what I taught them, even though I only had them for less than an hour. Amazing!
[EDITOR: I'm putting a few days in this post 'cause these entries were a little small. Training was kind of boring....until the last weekend ;) MORE FORESHADOWING!]
[Original day written: Wednesday, February 28th 2007 at 12:00AM]
J6.0
Went to McDonald's for the first time in Japan. Had a Whopper. Same as an American Whopper. Tried to get online, but the wireless...didn't work. Or something; the staff wasn't able to help me. Jeff tried the MegaMac, a burger that is literally two Whoppers stacked on top of one another:
Later, we went to a Japanese Starbucks and had coffee (I had hot chocolate) while we did our homework. We all got back at different times. I had some free time, so I finished reading Perdido Street Station. [EDITOR: I'll have a book review on this sometime in the future.]
[Original day written: Thursday, March 1st 2007]
J7.0
[EDITOR: This entry was just lots of training notes. I hadn't settled on a format that I liked for my entries, yet. Included for temporal consistency.]
[Original day written: Friday, March 2nd 2007]
J8.0
Today is my final day in training. It's the ultimate test: I will teach a full lesson to actual students. I've studied, I've memorized, I've tried to do my best to remember everything I've been taught this past week. I think I'm ready. I just need to remember to go with the flow and just teach. It's not hard.
J8.1
Success! My lesson is taught! I totally kicked butt! It was an intermediate level lesson about food. I followed the steps and tried to remember to smile. The students had a great time, and they learned something, too. I feel great!
The other trainees want to go out to Roppongi. Roppongi is the night club area of Tokyo. I'm not one for clubbing, and both Brain and Tara gagged when I mentioned the name; neither of them like it very much. I've been thinking of getting in touch with Tom Culpepper and hanging out with him for a while.
J8.2
They're gone to parts unknown. Time to make calls!
J8.3
This is taking a while...
J8.4
Plans are made! I grab a taxi to the train station! I barely make my train! I take it to the middle of no where and wait for a bus! The bus takes me further out into nowhere, perhaps on the other side of it! I get off at the place I was instructed, and wait in the cold for Tom. He says he's walking to me. 45 minutes later I see him, decked out in his aloha shirt and leather jacket and khakis and hat, like I'd seen him the day he left (minus the jacket).
[EDITOR: This is from the next day, but I like the shot and it's essentially what he was wearing. Plus is was cold.]
We hiked back to his place, grabbing some dinner for me at the nearby (and I use the term loosely) conbini. I chowed down and we hit the hay. Tomorrow we will take a tour of Ota, the town where Tom has lived for the past year, and then go into Tokyo to see Harajuku.
Wee earthquakes! Yesterday and the day before Hitachi was subject to three little earthquakes, though the last one was by far the strongest I've felt since I've come to Japan. I've experienced about 7 earthquakes, that I remember, though my students have claimed to feel some that I haven't.
Earthquakes are different in Japan than in California. Japanese earthquakes are slightly more gentle, with a side-to-side motion rather than an up-down motion. Of course, this is being 'gentle' on a geolithic scale, so they can still feel pretty violent. No worries, though; all the ones I've been through have been quite calm.
So, yesterday was Saturday, the day of Doom. I'll tell you about them, now.
Saturdays are the busy day. The final push. They're for all the people that don't have time during the working week to come in to class. People who miss classes during the week can usually make them up on Saturdays, too. What results is an early, super-busy day. I had 7 classes yesterday, starting at 10 AM. Remember how I normally get into work between 11:30 and 12:30? Yeah, not on Saturday.
My day starts off with 4 classes in a row. Then I get an hour break. Then another two classes back-to-back, and finally my last class. Everything ends at 7, at which point we do our cleaning and prep-for-tomorrow stuff again, and then dash off to enjoy Saturday night. My weekends are Sunday/Monday, but my weekend truly begins after work on Saturday. Imagine the excitement of both Friday and Saturday night, crammed into one.
What do I do on my weekends? I'm glad you asked! Saturday night is usually spent at the local gyoza bar, G-Bros. Gyoza are Japanese dumplings; filled with any number of delicious meats and/or veggies, they can be steamed, boiled, grilled, or fried. G-Bros. is run by two brothers, Hiro and Tomo, who are both bikers. Hiro speaks pretty good English, and Tomo is learning thanks in part to the number of foreigners that hang out there. It's our go-to spot, our fall back. It's the place all we foreigners know and love and can meet at, come rain or shine. The hosts are friendly and welcoming.
It took me a few weeks to haul my butt down to G-Bros., mostly due to exhaustion. But once I had recuperated from my lessons, I took a trip with M-sensei there, and was blown away. It was just so awesome. They have a great big plasma TV, usually tuned to an international MTV-like channel with no VJs, just music videos. You can order all sorts of American, European, and Japanese beverages. I've embraced Japanese beer (a variety of alcohol I thought I would never like) and I've even come to like Guinness. They serve a mean caesar salad (my usual dish) but the gyoza is what I really love.
I have many favorites. Chicken and onion is tasty. Super garlic is amazing. Pork and kim-chee is rapidly becoming my favorite. But the king that sits upon the throne has to be their Apple Pie Gyoza. I swear to God. They stuff little gyoza skins with home-made apple pie filling, fry them so the skins become like pie crust, then serve with a dollop of vanilla ice cream, a spoonful of whipped cream, a side of apple goo, and the whole thing is sprinkled with cinnamon. Indescribable in its deliciousness.
The gang I hang with is a diverse group. K is sort of the leader, having been here nearly the longest. He's from Manchester, UK, and works for an English school called Geos. Dan, an ex-restaurant owner-now-surfer is from Australia, also in Geos. Clive, who got to Hitachi my third week here, is from South London, and works at Nova. There's Pura and Gina, Nova teacher roomies from the States (Florida and somewhere else, I think). Ginie and Claire, also Nova teacher roomies (from somewhere and Glasgow, Scottland). Claire is almost the newest teacher, just barely being beaten by Clive's new roomie Matt, from Canada (also a Nova teacher). And, of course, M-sensei, my co worker, from Detroit, then Arizona, and finally Seattle.
After we have a grand old time drinking and talking and relaxing, I usually head home around 1 or 2 AM. Some nights we've done things as a group. We played Capture the Flag when E.J. was here one Saturday night. Last night the gang went to Mito to go clubbing, but I had other plans, plus a burning need to actually get 8 hours of sleep. I relaxed at home by myself for the first time in nearly a month last night, and I feel about 10 times better for it.
It's 11:30 AM now, and I want to get out of the apartment. There's a martial arts gym to the north of town that I want to check out, and I'm feeling up and at-em for a good bike ride. I am a bit hungry, though, so I'll probably grab a small breakfast at a convenience store (shortened to conbini in Japanese slang).
I've gotten to missing a lot of my old life. Nothing too weepy or soul-crushing, but I'll remember something I used to do and miss it a little, from time to time. I wish I could find some good crafting materials, just to keep my skills up. What I wouldn't give for my craft boxes; my yards of leather and nylon line, my beads and trinkets and clasps.
And now, an Old Journal post! Amazing!
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[Original day written: Tuesday, February 27th 2007 at 11:50AM]
J5.0
Miyagi-taicho (taicho = captain/boss) is here. The president of my company, the founder. On the rare occasion that I would see a Japanese business man in Atlanta, I would always get an odd vibe from them. One almost of serenity, of inscrutability. I guess that's a cultural aspect the Japanese have cultivated through the ages, because I certainly feel that now. Miyagi-taicho is very...present. When he's in the room all eyes fall to him. He gave a speech about our duties as teachers and what was important in our jobs. Mostly a lot of boring corp-speak, but some of it was interesting. Especially the time when he demonstrated his chi flow.
Chi (pronounced "ki" or "key") is an Asian metaphysical concept, namely that within us flows energy that can be manipulated. It can influence our mood, and vice versa. Crazy martial artists claim they can leap tall buildings and punch through walls using chi, but mostly the theories and practices are about mental and physical balance and health. Miyagi-taicho demonstrated how his chi flow changed his body, and he claimed, both his attitude and the attitude of anyone he was teaching. It was...different. He would say a phrase that was either negative or positive, and then have one of the trainees push him. If he said something negative ("I hate you.") his body became easy to push. If he said something positive ("I love you.") his body became resilient and immobile. The trainee who pushed him swore he didn't feel Miyagi-taicho's body change in any way during the demonstration.
Spoooooooooooky.
I teach tonight...
J5.1
My first teaching assignment is a success! I instructed 5 Japanese women through a basic lesson. I was amazed that they were actually learning what I taught them, even though I only had them for less than an hour. Amazing!
[EDITOR: I'm putting a few days in this post 'cause these entries were a little small. Training was kind of boring....until the last weekend ;) MORE FORESHADOWING!]
[Original day written: Wednesday, February 28th 2007 at 12:00AM]
J6.0
Went to McDonald's for the first time in Japan. Had a Whopper. Same as an American Whopper. Tried to get online, but the wireless...didn't work. Or something; the staff wasn't able to help me. Jeff tried the MegaMac, a burger that is literally two Whoppers stacked on top of one another:
Later, we went to a Japanese Starbucks and had coffee (I had hot chocolate) while we did our homework. We all got back at different times. I had some free time, so I finished reading Perdido Street Station. [EDITOR: I'll have a book review on this sometime in the future.]
[Original day written: Thursday, March 1st 2007]
J7.0
[EDITOR: This entry was just lots of training notes. I hadn't settled on a format that I liked for my entries, yet. Included for temporal consistency.]
[Original day written: Friday, March 2nd 2007]
J8.0
Today is my final day in training. It's the ultimate test: I will teach a full lesson to actual students. I've studied, I've memorized, I've tried to do my best to remember everything I've been taught this past week. I think I'm ready. I just need to remember to go with the flow and just teach. It's not hard.
J8.1
Success! My lesson is taught! I totally kicked butt! It was an intermediate level lesson about food. I followed the steps and tried to remember to smile. The students had a great time, and they learned something, too. I feel great!
The other trainees want to go out to Roppongi. Roppongi is the night club area of Tokyo. I'm not one for clubbing, and both Brain and Tara gagged when I mentioned the name; neither of them like it very much. I've been thinking of getting in touch with Tom Culpepper and hanging out with him for a while.
J8.2
They're gone to parts unknown. Time to make calls!
J8.3
This is taking a while...
J8.4
Plans are made! I grab a taxi to the train station! I barely make my train! I take it to the middle of no where and wait for a bus! The bus takes me further out into nowhere, perhaps on the other side of it! I get off at the place I was instructed, and wait in the cold for Tom. He says he's walking to me. 45 minutes later I see him, decked out in his aloha shirt and leather jacket and khakis and hat, like I'd seen him the day he left (minus the jacket).
[EDITOR: This is from the next day, but I like the shot and it's essentially what he was wearing. Plus is was cold.]We hiked back to his place, grabbing some dinner for me at the nearby (and I use the term loosely) conbini. I chowed down and we hit the hay. Tomorrow we will take a tour of Ota, the town where Tom has lived for the past year, and then go into Tokyo to see Harajuku.
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