Today, in celebration of my four day weekend, I decided to go to Costco in Osaka. For those of you who do not know Costco, (I'm resigned to the fact that there still may be a few people left on the planet that do not know this magnificent shopping experience) it's a large shopping warehouse that sells American goods at wholesale prices and in gigantic portions. Though economical in it's design, why anyone would need three 2-liter bottles of ketchup is beyond me.
Everyone i have talked to said that Costo Japan is the closest thing to an American shopping village like a Chinatown or Little Tokyo back stateside, but what I was not expecting was to step into a store 6000 miles away. Every detail about Costco USA has been duplicated in Japan without exception. It was almost as if i was transported to the Scottsdale Costco I know so well by some futuristic Japanese de-atomizer. But to my awkward surprise there were still a lot of Japanese people around. In the past two months I have grown accustom to miniature shopping carts, miniature parking spaces, and super compact shops. After the initial membership test--retinal scan, secret handshake, super-secret verbal password with voice recognition--they scanned my Costco membership card and I was welcomed by the familiar, no, identical store layout. On the right hand side, immediately after the entrance was the shady eye doctor and prescription center. Directly to the left and in the immediate path of all the foot traffic were the overpriced flat-screen and plasma televisions, outdated printers and computers, cheesy jewelry and random assorted "on sale" items. I am used to crowded places by now, but Japan + Costco = chaos. It was a bit surprising seeing Japanese people pushing these overloaded, extra-wide shopping carts while balancing two screaming children, two hot dogs and two cokes. It was far too unusual for my liking, but it made me feel surprisingly at home. The rest of the store was just as one might expect; clothing, dvd, music, chips and outdoor furniture in the middle. On the far left side of the store was all the food in bulk and on the right side of the store was all the non-consumables like kitchen knives and vacuum cleaners. Lastly, in the back was all the alcohol, fruits, meats and breads. It really felt like a bizarre-o version of America in the heart of Japan.
After spending the equivalent of $70 on only 6 items (huge tub of Skippy chunky peanut butter, Quaker Oats granola, Best Foods mayo, kirkland brand tuna, kirkland canned chicken, and Poppycock-nuts and popcorn and caramel) we made our way to the japanese version of Costco food. To my pleasant surprise, it was the same exact food offered at US Costco. I indulged myself on two large slices of pizza and a coke. It was pleasant to not have unusual things like corn and mayo on my pizza.
Overall, it was a successful trip. I bought just the perfect amount that would fit in my suitcase I brought, because like at American Costos there are no bags provided. It would have been a real pain in the butt to try and juggle all my things home on the train without my suitcase. One of the members of our group had to buy a bag to carry all of her things home. Prepare yourselves, this will sound a bit chauvinistic but it remains true... My hypothesis that women have no eye for spacial relations remains valid and unchallenged.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The Saga of the Single Toothed Barber
Of the nearly forty-seven barbers and hair salons in my neighborhood, i mistakenly went to the with the "Engrish" on the door.
I would like to take the time to preface this story with a bit of background history about me and my hair. My hair and I have a wonderful relationship. For the past eight or ten years I have done nothing to upset my short brown locks and vice-versa. My hair style has not changed in that time and the only care i usually do is a daily shampoo and a bi-quarterly cut at the local Supercuts. In the last decade, I have only ventured out of my hair comfort zone a handful of times; each and every one of those times I have been disappointed in the result of the hair removal.
This time was a bit different. I walked into this family owned barber shop knowing that i was going to feel violated upon the termination of this transaction. Though I attempted to prepare myself mentally and verbally for this confrontation, i knew i was not going to leave this place a happy camper. Now, I am not usually a stickler about my own personal appearance, my hair is the only thing i would ever demand a refund for upon a butchery. At home, at my local Supercuts, all i had to say was, "Number 2 on the sides, about an inch off the top." With that simple, incomplete sentence, I received years of perfect haircuts. Today's assassination, though expected, was not nearly as awful as it could have been, I am merely being dramatic as i feel it makes this blog more interesting to read.
The event began with the ritualistic mumble of the phrase, "welcome" in Japanese. At this point my brain was screaming, "run, throw a flash grenade or a smoke bomb, but just run away..." But i could not turn back, I already asked the price and nodded in reluctant agreement. Suddenly, I was ushered into the seat and bombarded with rapid Japanese. Only then did i realize that the old woman in the apron was still shorter than me even though i was sitting down and the old man was bald and had only one yellow tooth. I smiled. (i made mental notes of everything because i knew i would be writing about it here) I told the barber that i would like my hair cut short on the sides and leave the top long enough so i could style it to my own liking. Well, that's what it sounded like in my head, but in reality, it sounded like, "short...here...long...here..." in Japanese. Then i made a sound and a hand motion. It was the sound you would expect the Nike "swoosh" symbol to make if it moved passed your ear really quickly. I did this to symbolize the signature upward turn my hair has grown accustom to over the last decade. Then i showed the man a picture so he would know exactly how i style my hair. He nodded and prepared his scissors and combs.
It was at this point that i felt resigned to my fate. It was also at this time when decided that i would be going to the local department store to purchase a hat.
I give the man a lot of credit. He did his best. I was engrossed in the even cutting of every hair on my head. He even trimmed my beard. But i will admit that when the hot lather and the straight razor came out, i tensed a little. I not sure why, maybe it was the fact that he looked like he was a hundred and thirty-seven years old and his hands were permanently crooked as if he held a pair of scissors. After the shave, i felt more relaxed. I should have noticed that he was wrapping up the cutting session when the hot towels and the blow-dryer came out. It was then that i realized that he did not actually cut the top of my hair. He made it look like he did, but my hair is the same length now as it was when i went into his shop. I suppose im not upset, it was an interesting experience. It gives me the excuse to learn how to cut my own hair now, because i have to fix what this guy failed to cut. At the moment, my hair does not look awful, but it's not me.
-Gio
I would like to take the time to preface this story with a bit of background history about me and my hair. My hair and I have a wonderful relationship. For the past eight or ten years I have done nothing to upset my short brown locks and vice-versa. My hair style has not changed in that time and the only care i usually do is a daily shampoo and a bi-quarterly cut at the local Supercuts. In the last decade, I have only ventured out of my hair comfort zone a handful of times; each and every one of those times I have been disappointed in the result of the hair removal.
This time was a bit different. I walked into this family owned barber shop knowing that i was going to feel violated upon the termination of this transaction. Though I attempted to prepare myself mentally and verbally for this confrontation, i knew i was not going to leave this place a happy camper. Now, I am not usually a stickler about my own personal appearance, my hair is the only thing i would ever demand a refund for upon a butchery. At home, at my local Supercuts, all i had to say was, "Number 2 on the sides, about an inch off the top." With that simple, incomplete sentence, I received years of perfect haircuts. Today's assassination, though expected, was not nearly as awful as it could have been, I am merely being dramatic as i feel it makes this blog more interesting to read.
The event began with the ritualistic mumble of the phrase, "welcome" in Japanese. At this point my brain was screaming, "run, throw a flash grenade or a smoke bomb, but just run away..." But i could not turn back, I already asked the price and nodded in reluctant agreement. Suddenly, I was ushered into the seat and bombarded with rapid Japanese. Only then did i realize that the old woman in the apron was still shorter than me even though i was sitting down and the old man was bald and had only one yellow tooth. I smiled. (i made mental notes of everything because i knew i would be writing about it here) I told the barber that i would like my hair cut short on the sides and leave the top long enough so i could style it to my own liking. Well, that's what it sounded like in my head, but in reality, it sounded like, "short...here...long...here..." in Japanese. Then i made a sound and a hand motion. It was the sound you would expect the Nike "swoosh" symbol to make if it moved passed your ear really quickly. I did this to symbolize the signature upward turn my hair has grown accustom to over the last decade. Then i showed the man a picture so he would know exactly how i style my hair. He nodded and prepared his scissors and combs.
It was at this point that i felt resigned to my fate. It was also at this time when decided that i would be going to the local department store to purchase a hat.
I give the man a lot of credit. He did his best. I was engrossed in the even cutting of every hair on my head. He even trimmed my beard. But i will admit that when the hot lather and the straight razor came out, i tensed a little. I not sure why, maybe it was the fact that he looked like he was a hundred and thirty-seven years old and his hands were permanently crooked as if he held a pair of scissors. After the shave, i felt more relaxed. I should have noticed that he was wrapping up the cutting session when the hot towels and the blow-dryer came out. It was then that i realized that he did not actually cut the top of my hair. He made it look like he did, but my hair is the same length now as it was when i went into his shop. I suppose im not upset, it was an interesting experience. It gives me the excuse to learn how to cut my own hair now, because i have to fix what this guy failed to cut. At the moment, my hair does not look awful, but it's not me.
-Gio
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Bunkasai: Culture Festival
It was a spectacular few days at my base school. It is largely an excuse for all of the students and teachers to take their minds off of school for a few days and let their hair down, and boy do they.
The event at both of my schools was divided into three sections; first, was the first year students and their class banners (nothing terribly exciting there).
Second, is the second year students, they do a costume party and dance competition between their homeroom classes. (also, not terribly exciting, but more fun).
And the last section of the festival is the drama plays by the third year students. I only saw half of the plays at my base school, Rakutoh, but they were all very well done. The first play was about the Hiroshima atomic bomb and the days proceeding the event. It was about a family torn apart by the war when the father left only 2 weeks before the bomb, August 5. When he returned home, his home was destroyed and family vaporized. It was quite depressing. The acting was quite good and i was entertained.
After the play, there was a bit of a humming silence where no one wanted to talk but some whispered here and there. It was at this point, that for the first time in my life, I was ashamed to be an American. I slouched in my chair and sat, quietly waiting...praying for the next play to start before anyone noticed that there was an American in the room. To the playwrite's credit, there was very little mention of the Americans at all in the play. It was largely a historical perspective based on human emotions, not on a Japanese post-war perspective.
The other two plays were relatively boring. One was about sexually transmitted diseases and depression...i think. And the other one was about Japanese racism towards foreigners, in which a Korean student was killed. Very edgy i think. This is the final song of the play where everyone stood up and started singing.
Overall, the week was really fun and I am sad that i had to work yesterday and missed half of Third year plays. A large majority of my students were sad that i missed their play on wednesday, but i had lunch with them today...i think that made up for it. I also have some random pictures of students and of events that will be posted here. There were also several class bands that played on stage today. (video to come a bit later)
The event at both of my schools was divided into three sections; first, was the first year students and their class banners (nothing terribly exciting there).
Second, is the second year students, they do a costume party and dance competition between their homeroom classes. (also, not terribly exciting, but more fun).
And the last section of the festival is the drama plays by the third year students. I only saw half of the plays at my base school, Rakutoh, but they were all very well done. The first play was about the Hiroshima atomic bomb and the days proceeding the event. It was about a family torn apart by the war when the father left only 2 weeks before the bomb, August 5. When he returned home, his home was destroyed and family vaporized. It was quite depressing. The acting was quite good and i was entertained.
After the play, there was a bit of a humming silence where no one wanted to talk but some whispered here and there. It was at this point, that for the first time in my life, I was ashamed to be an American. I slouched in my chair and sat, quietly waiting...praying for the next play to start before anyone noticed that there was an American in the room. To the playwrite's credit, there was very little mention of the Americans at all in the play. It was largely a historical perspective based on human emotions, not on a Japanese post-war perspective.
The other two plays were relatively boring. One was about sexually transmitted diseases and depression...i think. And the other one was about Japanese racism towards foreigners, in which a Korean student was killed. Very edgy i think. This is the final song of the play where everyone stood up and started singing.
Overall, the week was really fun and I am sad that i had to work yesterday and missed half of Third year plays. A large majority of my students were sad that i missed their play on wednesday, but i had lunch with them today...i think that made up for it. I also have some random pictures of students and of events that will be posted here. There were also several class bands that played on stage today. (video to come a bit later)
Monday, September 8, 2008
Osaka: The City that Never Sleeps (now with pix)
Ah, there is so much to say and yet so little space on the internet. In all seriousness, I could spend the next 24hours detailing the moment by moment timeline of "Osaka Saturday" and still fall short of decent description of the day in total. Osaka is the only city i have been to where the party does not start until 4am and the first train does not leave until 5am.
The day began at 11am at Kyoto Station where I met up with a friend for breakfast before meeting with the rest of our group on the platform to Osaka. The initial plan was to meet up and head out to osaka on the noon train and head straight to the Osaka Dome and watch the Onix Buffaloes beat the Seibo Lions in a head on, life or death baseball battle. To our surprise we saw that there were three Americans on the Buffaloes, one of which was named, Tuffy Rhodes. Now Tuffy's nickname was, "Mr. Buffalo" and everytime he came up to bat as the designated hitter for the pitcher some random American rap song would play over the speakers. Now, Tuffy was a very large African American man. When i say large, I mean giantesque in comparison to his Japanese compadres. We had a very long lasting conversation about whether the use of different rap songs for Tuffy's batting cheers was Japanese racism or just the man's personal preference. I came to the conclusion that he is actually devout fan of classical music and that the rap music is just a stereo type he needs to fill because of Japanese perceptions of African Americans. Although, to our grave disappointment, the Onix Buffaloes failed to vanquish the Seibu Lions, 7-1. An utter slaughter. The Lions pounced on the Buffaloes like a ... lion pouncing on a buffalo. (Brilliant use of simile, I know)
Knowing that this night would be a painfully expensive evening, i decided to go to an ATM to take out some more money so that i would not run dry and not have the money necessary to get home. It felt like i went to every damn ATM in the district. I tried an AM PM, a Family Mart, a Sunkist(some random convenient store), and two bank ATMs. All of which rejected my private Kyoto bank cash card(debit card). So finally, after about 30minutes of searching i tried a Citi Bank. The rejected my Japanese bank card, but accepted my Wells Fargo card. To me this was shocking, but i was grateful to not have to borrow money from people around me. I learned my lesson though, never go to Osaka with less than ￥20,000($200) in my wallet.
The rest of the evening was a bit more exciting, although it is very difficult to remember the details from 1am - 4am, i will try. After a delicious dinner of Kimchi(fermented cabbage) and deeply fried chicken, myself and the group of Kyoto JETs met up with the Hyogo JETs for a night on the town. At about 830pm I had a very important, yet easy decision to make. To hangout and go shopping with some people until 11pm and catch the last train back to Kyoto station and home to Yamashina, or to party all night and catch the first train home at 5am. As i said, it was an easy decision for me, the only thing waiting for me at home was an ominously multiplying tower of dirty laundry and a painfully empty refrigerator. And thus the night began.
For ￥2500，roughly $25, we accepted the guidance of a bald man in a yellow shirt and wore a yellow wristband indicating that we were foreigners on a pub crawl. In the price of the event all of the cover charges to all of the bars and 1 free drink were included. (we would later come to the conclusion that the price was a terrible rip off and the only thing this event did was show us all of the good foreigner bars in Osaka) But, such is life. The first bar was a New Zealand bar with flags and nationalistic propaganda around the room with two Japanese bartenders. On the television was Austrailian rules football, that means that it's like American football but less rules, less armor and more broken faces. On the menu was linguini and french fries. By the time we left this bar and headed for the next, half of our group was drunk and heading home. Luckily, I have had lots of practice over the past 4 years and am a champion. We went to 6 different bars and clubs over the course of the night, each a bit more strange than the last. At one point in the evening we ended up at an Irish bar with authentic Irishmen tending the bar. There i ran into a huge Irish guy. I use the words "ran into" in a literal sense. I bumped into him and my head only came up to his armpits. I was a bit frightened but got to talking to him and found out that he spent some time in Tucson, Arizona.
Events like these are always a trip down fun-times avenue but when you lose a member of your group due to faulty leadership and unnecessary risks, the night begins to sour. At one point in the evening, we lost one of our friends because he got caught up helping an extremely intoxicated girl walk. Eventually, he showed up about 2 hours later at the last bar of the evening. At one of the clubs we helped populate there was a bit of a pole dancing show and a breakdancer. It was quite interesting.
Saturday night was the first time i have ever heard this said about any establishment, "Sorry that this club is a bit empty, it does not usually get busy until 5am." It was hard to believe that the place would fill up with locals at 5am, but when the night progressed the club filled with people around 430am. At which point, one of my friends was dragged to the dance floor by one of the locals. As she was dancing with this guy, he kept grabbing her shoulders and shaking her, then removing his hands and putting them in the air like he was sorry and felt guilty for touching her. This was the highlight of my evening and I still laugh when i think about this. The look on my friends face was priceless, filled with fear, shock, and awkwardness. It is a shame that i did not get this on video. After this club, we all left. Some people when on to the next club but the rest of the kyoto people went home. It was nearly 5am and the first train home called our names.
We wandered the streets of Osaka at 5am without a clue to where the subway station was that would take us to the main station. Eventually we found one, and noticed that we had walked about 2 stops south of where we were supposed to be. As a result, it took us much longer to go home than was likely if we had got to the other station. I finally got home at 8am. It made a full 24hours of being awake and on my feet. My uncomfortable bed felt amazing and I welcomed the springs of my hard mattress. I slept on and off for a large majority of Sunday. I am writing this from work today because i have nothing to do. All of the students are preparing for the school festival tomorrow and i have no classes to teach. I have been studying kanji all day and have memorized about 15 new characters.
The next entry will likely be the pictures and videos from both of my school's cultural festivals.
Gio
The day began at 11am at Kyoto Station where I met up with a friend for breakfast before meeting with the rest of our group on the platform to Osaka. The initial plan was to meet up and head out to osaka on the noon train and head straight to the Osaka Dome and watch the Onix Buffaloes beat the Seibo Lions in a head on, life or death baseball battle. To our surprise we saw that there were three Americans on the Buffaloes, one of which was named, Tuffy Rhodes. Now Tuffy's nickname was, "Mr. Buffalo" and everytime he came up to bat as the designated hitter for the pitcher some random American rap song would play over the speakers. Now, Tuffy was a very large African American man. When i say large, I mean giantesque in comparison to his Japanese compadres. We had a very long lasting conversation about whether the use of different rap songs for Tuffy's batting cheers was Japanese racism or just the man's personal preference. I came to the conclusion that he is actually devout fan of classical music and that the rap music is just a stereo type he needs to fill because of Japanese perceptions of African Americans. Although, to our grave disappointment, the Onix Buffaloes failed to vanquish the Seibu Lions, 7-1. An utter slaughter. The Lions pounced on the Buffaloes like a ... lion pouncing on a buffalo. (Brilliant use of simile, I know)
Knowing that this night would be a painfully expensive evening, i decided to go to an ATM to take out some more money so that i would not run dry and not have the money necessary to get home. It felt like i went to every damn ATM in the district. I tried an AM PM, a Family Mart, a Sunkist(some random convenient store), and two bank ATMs. All of which rejected my private Kyoto bank cash card(debit card). So finally, after about 30minutes of searching i tried a Citi Bank. The rejected my Japanese bank card, but accepted my Wells Fargo card. To me this was shocking, but i was grateful to not have to borrow money from people around me. I learned my lesson though, never go to Osaka with less than ￥20,000($200) in my wallet.
The rest of the evening was a bit more exciting, although it is very difficult to remember the details from 1am - 4am, i will try. After a delicious dinner of Kimchi(fermented cabbage) and deeply fried chicken, myself and the group of Kyoto JETs met up with the Hyogo JETs for a night on the town. At about 830pm I had a very important, yet easy decision to make. To hangout and go shopping with some people until 11pm and catch the last train back to Kyoto station and home to Yamashina, or to party all night and catch the first train home at 5am. As i said, it was an easy decision for me, the only thing waiting for me at home was an ominously multiplying tower of dirty laundry and a painfully empty refrigerator. And thus the night began.
For ￥2500，roughly $25, we accepted the guidance of a bald man in a yellow shirt and wore a yellow wristband indicating that we were foreigners on a pub crawl. In the price of the event all of the cover charges to all of the bars and 1 free drink were included. (we would later come to the conclusion that the price was a terrible rip off and the only thing this event did was show us all of the good foreigner bars in Osaka) But, such is life. The first bar was a New Zealand bar with flags and nationalistic propaganda around the room with two Japanese bartenders. On the television was Austrailian rules football, that means that it's like American football but less rules, less armor and more broken faces. On the menu was linguini and french fries. By the time we left this bar and headed for the next, half of our group was drunk and heading home. Luckily, I have had lots of practice over the past 4 years and am a champion. We went to 6 different bars and clubs over the course of the night, each a bit more strange than the last. At one point in the evening we ended up at an Irish bar with authentic Irishmen tending the bar. There i ran into a huge Irish guy. I use the words "ran into" in a literal sense. I bumped into him and my head only came up to his armpits. I was a bit frightened but got to talking to him and found out that he spent some time in Tucson, Arizona.
Events like these are always a trip down fun-times avenue but when you lose a member of your group due to faulty leadership and unnecessary risks, the night begins to sour. At one point in the evening, we lost one of our friends because he got caught up helping an extremely intoxicated girl walk. Eventually, he showed up about 2 hours later at the last bar of the evening. At one of the clubs we helped populate there was a bit of a pole dancing show and a breakdancer. It was quite interesting.
Saturday night was the first time i have ever heard this said about any establishment, "Sorry that this club is a bit empty, it does not usually get busy until 5am." It was hard to believe that the place would fill up with locals at 5am, but when the night progressed the club filled with people around 430am. At which point, one of my friends was dragged to the dance floor by one of the locals. As she was dancing with this guy, he kept grabbing her shoulders and shaking her, then removing his hands and putting them in the air like he was sorry and felt guilty for touching her. This was the highlight of my evening and I still laugh when i think about this. The look on my friends face was priceless, filled with fear, shock, and awkwardness. It is a shame that i did not get this on video. After this club, we all left. Some people when on to the next club but the rest of the kyoto people went home. It was nearly 5am and the first train home called our names.
We wandered the streets of Osaka at 5am without a clue to where the subway station was that would take us to the main station. Eventually we found one, and noticed that we had walked about 2 stops south of where we were supposed to be. As a result, it took us much longer to go home than was likely if we had got to the other station. I finally got home at 8am. It made a full 24hours of being awake and on my feet. My uncomfortable bed felt amazing and I welcomed the springs of my hard mattress. I slept on and off for a large majority of Sunday. I am writing this from work today because i have nothing to do. All of the students are preparing for the school festival tomorrow and i have no classes to teach. I have been studying kanji all day and have memorized about 15 new characters.
The next entry will likely be the pictures and videos from both of my school's cultural festivals.
Gio
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Trials and Triburations...trebulasionsu...Tribulations?
I suppose nothing has really been "suffering resulting from oppression or persecution" but there certainly have been some interesting experiences. I shall start from the good and move to the, not necessarily bad but interesting.
Osaka on Sunday was a blast and a half. The day consisted of train-hopping from station to station looking for the right connection here and there. I could never find my way back through that place if i ever had to go to Umeda station again. But while there, we ran into a snag when we could not find our 5th man. We were supposed to meet up with him at Umeda Station, but apparently there are 3 different Umeda stations within walking distance of each other in Osaka. So for about 30minutes we attempted to locate the straggler, but eventually we met up. We then proceeded to eat (my favorite activity). We found a little cafe which had decent prices and a big enough dinning room for 5 people. (big dinning rooms seem to be on the rare side in cafe style restaurants) One of our party, who shall remain nameless in order to protect the hungry, ordered two meals, not knowing that each meal came with a side of rice, lettuce salad, pickled vegetables and miso soup. As we all finish, our once starving companion is left starring at two half-finished dishes and healthy serving of curry. It was funny at the time. We then proceeded to the world famous Osaka aquarium, where two whale sharks are kept circling a comparatively small tank. Unfortunately, because i never came home on saturday night, i forgot to bring my camera. If i can figure out how to get pictures off of my cell phone i will post them in another addition of my daily/semi-daily blog-o-life. During this physically and monetarily taxing day, I had a bit of a philosophical/surreal thought. At the time, it felt just as likely as reality, but here goes. Have you ever wondered if fish have air-iums where they keep humans they find or capture in order to enjoy their antics while parading through a small water filled tubes packed like sardines? Only 2% of the ocean has been thoroughly mapped. I think it's possible.
Enough of that non-sense. Today was quite interesting. It started off pretty slow as i made the final touches to my lesson plan and prepared for an other self-deprecating show of "who's on first" but in Japanese with english mumbles. My Oral Communications 2 class only has 7 students. They are normally really excited to be there but today they were a bit un-genki(un-energetic), but they did alright. I know all their names now, so they were proud of me. I attempted to teach them a bit about american music and i played a Foo Fighters song, Best of You. They seemed to enjoy it, but it was apparently too fast for them to really understand. Next time i will need to choose an easier song.
I find myself attempting to spell in public, which has always been terribly difficult for me. If i did not have a word processing unit capable of correcting my horrible english on the go, then i probably never would have graduated high school. You think i kid, but i never kid. Meh, I will not worry about it until one of the students calls me on my horrible english spelling.
I had my first month goals and performance evaluation today. It consisted of the principle asking me if I was accustomed to Japanese life and my town and all that jazz. Then he asked me if I wanted to join the Judo club at school. He asked because i mentioned that i was interested in Judo while he and I were two bottles of sake down at my welcome party. Judo is the principle's sport so he also has a bit of pull around town, apparently. From what i can understand, he was a national champion of Judo some time in the past. But back to the topic of my evaluation. He asks if I am interested in the Judo club and i said yes. He nods, says something to the effect of "i'll be right back..." He reenters the room with his white gi, the uniform for Judo, and tells me to stand up and put it on. So right about now I am thinking that this is the strangest work performance interview i have ever been in. Then the principle, the vice-principle, and one of the english teachers are all putting this regalia on me as i stand there petrified from hilarity. I want to laugh but as all of this is happening, the principle is saying, in broken english, that he is taking my sizes so he can get me a Judo Gi of my own as a present. Laughing would have likely upset everyone. So by now a few moments have past and the vice-principle still has not emerged from behind me, where he was attempting to wrap the white obi(belt) around my waist. Everything else fit pretty well, but the belt was far to short. I guess im wider than the average Japanese.
After this, the other AET that works at my school on Tuesdays asked me if i wanted to go practice some karate weapons training. To which i replied, "Sure, that sounds like fun." But in my head I sounded a bit more enthusiastic, something like, "Holy crap, Hell Yes I want to play with weapons." So after my inner ninja turtle finished jumping for joy, we walked out to the gym and practiced with the staff and the nunchucks. I had the pleasure of using the padded nunchucks because if i attempted to begin with the wooden ones, i would likely have returned home to day with a variety of deepening black and blue marks on my head and arms. Overall, it was a fun day. I am thinking about finding a iaido dojo or something around here. Iaido is the art of drawing a japanese sword, attacking, and putting the sword back in its scabbard. I think that will be a good way to get out of the house.
Mike
Osaka on Sunday was a blast and a half. The day consisted of train-hopping from station to station looking for the right connection here and there. I could never find my way back through that place if i ever had to go to Umeda station again. But while there, we ran into a snag when we could not find our 5th man. We were supposed to meet up with him at Umeda Station, but apparently there are 3 different Umeda stations within walking distance of each other in Osaka. So for about 30minutes we attempted to locate the straggler, but eventually we met up. We then proceeded to eat (my favorite activity). We found a little cafe which had decent prices and a big enough dinning room for 5 people. (big dinning rooms seem to be on the rare side in cafe style restaurants) One of our party, who shall remain nameless in order to protect the hungry, ordered two meals, not knowing that each meal came with a side of rice, lettuce salad, pickled vegetables and miso soup. As we all finish, our once starving companion is left starring at two half-finished dishes and healthy serving of curry. It was funny at the time. We then proceeded to the world famous Osaka aquarium, where two whale sharks are kept circling a comparatively small tank. Unfortunately, because i never came home on saturday night, i forgot to bring my camera. If i can figure out how to get pictures off of my cell phone i will post them in another addition of my daily/semi-daily blog-o-life. During this physically and monetarily taxing day, I had a bit of a philosophical/surreal thought. At the time, it felt just as likely as reality, but here goes. Have you ever wondered if fish have air-iums where they keep humans they find or capture in order to enjoy their antics while parading through a small water filled tubes packed like sardines? Only 2% of the ocean has been thoroughly mapped. I think it's possible.
Enough of that non-sense. Today was quite interesting. It started off pretty slow as i made the final touches to my lesson plan and prepared for an other self-deprecating show of "who's on first" but in Japanese with english mumbles. My Oral Communications 2 class only has 7 students. They are normally really excited to be there but today they were a bit un-genki(un-energetic), but they did alright. I know all their names now, so they were proud of me. I attempted to teach them a bit about american music and i played a Foo Fighters song, Best of You. They seemed to enjoy it, but it was apparently too fast for them to really understand. Next time i will need to choose an easier song.
I find myself attempting to spell in public, which has always been terribly difficult for me. If i did not have a word processing unit capable of correcting my horrible english on the go, then i probably never would have graduated high school. You think i kid, but i never kid. Meh, I will not worry about it until one of the students calls me on my horrible english spelling.
I had my first month goals and performance evaluation today. It consisted of the principle asking me if I was accustomed to Japanese life and my town and all that jazz. Then he asked me if I wanted to join the Judo club at school. He asked because i mentioned that i was interested in Judo while he and I were two bottles of sake down at my welcome party. Judo is the principle's sport so he also has a bit of pull around town, apparently. From what i can understand, he was a national champion of Judo some time in the past. But back to the topic of my evaluation. He asks if I am interested in the Judo club and i said yes. He nods, says something to the effect of "i'll be right back..." He reenters the room with his white gi, the uniform for Judo, and tells me to stand up and put it on. So right about now I am thinking that this is the strangest work performance interview i have ever been in. Then the principle, the vice-principle, and one of the english teachers are all putting this regalia on me as i stand there petrified from hilarity. I want to laugh but as all of this is happening, the principle is saying, in broken english, that he is taking my sizes so he can get me a Judo Gi of my own as a present. Laughing would have likely upset everyone. So by now a few moments have past and the vice-principle still has not emerged from behind me, where he was attempting to wrap the white obi(belt) around my waist. Everything else fit pretty well, but the belt was far to short. I guess im wider than the average Japanese.
After this, the other AET that works at my school on Tuesdays asked me if i wanted to go practice some karate weapons training. To which i replied, "Sure, that sounds like fun." But in my head I sounded a bit more enthusiastic, something like, "Holy crap, Hell Yes I want to play with weapons." So after my inner ninja turtle finished jumping for joy, we walked out to the gym and practiced with the staff and the nunchucks. I had the pleasure of using the padded nunchucks because if i attempted to begin with the wooden ones, i would likely have returned home to day with a variety of deepening black and blue marks on my head and arms. Overall, it was a fun day. I am thinking about finding a iaido dojo or something around here. Iaido is the art of drawing a japanese sword, attacking, and putting the sword back in its scabbard. I think that will be a good way to get out of the house.
Mike
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