A rain swept cement balcony comes into view as the earth colored curtains are flung open to the world. The sun's drab attempt to illuminate this cluttered universe battles with the half-closed ocular spaces of our hero. White t-shirts and black socks hang soaking in the remnants of the midnight showers that have been so common of late. Exhausted and whithered, his hand goes to the warmth of his bed, where his mind still sleeps. Steeling his reserve, he pushes onward into the fray.
The day, like most days, starts with a routine unchanged for months. But something was different. Something was terribly different. Outfitted in his usual garments to protect from the elements, tweed jacket, beanie cap, gloves and an unusually heavy umbrella, he set forth to conquer the day. He had no idea just how right that phrase would prove.
He stepped from his home onto the lush green hills of the familiar frontier. His leather armor creaked from the humidity of the day and his heavy long sword swayed in its scabbard on his hip. His hand, sheltered in the commonplace gloves of a retired mercenary, crept toward the hilt of his sword. His rucksack swayed on his back as he reached up with his other hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Something felt different, but he could not place what was awry. He looked around him, always weary of possible attack yet vigilant.
The small wooden cabin was at the base of a vertical outcrop leading up nearly thirty feet to a rocky ridge. The humble house was small, even for halfling standards. The door was scant tall enough to admit an average human, yet our hero was able to easily walk about inside. Cozy would have been an appropriate description of this location if it had not been for recent developments in the countryside. The land was no longer safe to inhabit.
His lands had become unusually hostile. He meant to find the source of his recent security breach. He no longer trusted his routine. The key to surviving in this world was to always do the unexpected when confronted with danger. He meant to travel to the neighboring realm to find means to stave off the threat to his land. East was the heading, toward the stone megalith, the Tower of Unusual Protuberances.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Various Topics of Recent Development
"Various Topics of Recent Development" means, "I do not really have much to say."
Weather:
February is a miserable month. It has been snowing, raining, windy and gray for 21 of the last 25 days. I am excited for Sakura in March and April.
Work:
There have been several not so interesting things at work lately. As the semester winds down, many teachers have asked me to come to their classes to fill in, i.e. waste 50 minutes of the students lives with a self-introduction lesson. That is fine with me. It gives me something to do other than sit at my desk and pretend to organize papers.
But recently, I started going to one first year reading class pretty regularly. This was really interesting because I think that in the short 3 week period with them, I was legitimately able to connect with some students and have some conversations, albeit one sided conversations (mostly monologues with the occasional one word answer and a nod). Those kids were mighty fun. It was a real shame that they were forced to a strict "reading lesson" format, which consisted of the students checking translation, listening to me read a passage slowly, repeating after me, mimicking while reading, and answering questions. I was able to inject a couple of games to get them at least half interested in the nonsensical repetition of day after day, after day of reading about Yoko Ono and organic rice farming techniques. Riveting as that may have been, I felt they needed something a bit more morbid in a hysterical fashion. So, I taught them "hangman." They found this simple vocabulary game to be a favored distraction from monotony.
As the teacher began to see improvements to my students reading comprehension in a matter of a few weeks, he invited teachers from around Kyoto to come and observe one of the lessons with this class. Throughout the day of the observation, teachers were coming up to me saying, "Are you nervous?It was at this moment that I began to switch to logistical mode. How in the unholy nine hells of the Underdark were we going to squeeze 30 additional teachers into a classroom only twice the size of my apartment filled with desks and pesky students. Some how they did it. Half way through the lesson I noticed that the head of my Board of Education was there and so were all of the English teachers in the school as well as the principal and the vice-principal. Yikes.
The class went well and I had nothing but rave reviews from my other teachers.
On a side note, they asked me, as a returning JET to go to Tokyo in July to pick up the newbies at the airport. I am not sure I want to do this because I remember how horrifyingly hot it was when I stepped off the plane. I will see.
Karate:
So as you may or may not know, I have been taking karate for one month now. I have been studying privately with my friend since I arrived in Japan, studying weapons. But now I have a real sensei. And some how in the middle of this weeks practice, we got on the topic of the origin stories of the first emperors of Japan and how the myths say that they are the sons and daughters of the Sun Goddess. That's all fine and dandy, but in reality we all can imagine that he was just some noble who took power way back in the dawn of the age.
The shocking thing about all of this was that, from what I could understand, my sensei believed and still believes that the emperor is the divine son of the Sun Goddess. I would never argue that topic with a man as ferocious and frightening as he.
I had to have my gi (uniform) custom made for me because my legs are too short, my waist too big and my shoulders too wide for a normal size. In Japan, like in the States surprisingly, I fall right in the middle of the gi sizes.
Additionally, my first test will be in the beginning of April. I will be asked to perform one kata (series of movements in conjunction) and the bunkai (the application of that kata in a pair). I will be testing for one of the high ranking white belt divisions. I hope that I do well enough that I can move on to a green belt level by August or so. It is pretty embarrassing being a total newbie. Digression: there are two kids in my class that are black belts. They cannot be older than 13 or so. I sometimes get envious of children.
Personal Life:
Nothing terribly exciting to report. February is terrible and as such, my motivation to explore, discover, photograph, and write has been sucked away. I am going to dinner with some friends this week, taking a break from my usual battles with my inner nerd.
Valentine's day was rather average in comparison to the many other lonely years. Nothing to report. I did go to dinner with several of my single friends. That was nice. We saw an extremely ugly westerner with a rather attractive Japanese girl. We all looked at each other and said, "I wonder if she knows that she can do much better." That was rather comical to me.
Books in Review:
Conan of Cimmeria vol. 1 by Howard - So far really good.
Okinawan Karate by Mark Bishop - Miserably boring. It is just a family tree of Karate styles.
A Personal Matter by Kenzaburo Oe - Also pretty boring. I am not a huge fan of modern Japanese literature.
A Game of Thrones by George RR Martin - A really well written fantasy novel. It is the first of 5 books. I did not care for the story very much, although I loved the characters. The plot moved too slowly for me.
Gaijin by James Clavell - As much as I loved Shogun, I think Clavell missed the mark on this book. I got about half way through it but could not think of any really reason to keep picking it up. The characters were bland and seemingly unmotivated and the plot was left dragging. It sat on my bathroom floor for a good month before I shelved it.
The Musketeer Mystery Novels by Sarah D'Almeida - Sent to me by my grandparents came into good use. I read the first four books in a matter of two weeks. I loved every minute of them. Although I think Dumas' stories are overall more iconic, these 4 stories were great. Her writing style and sense of action resemble Dumas' so closely that it is quite difficult to tell that they were written a century and a half after the original stories.
Upcoming Blogs:
The Leper in the Sardine Can
What a Japanese Graduation Looks Like
And much, much more in future episodes
p.s. - Sorry I have not written in a while, motivation has been lacking of late.
Weather:
February is a miserable month. It has been snowing, raining, windy and gray for 21 of the last 25 days. I am excited for Sakura in March and April.
Work:
There have been several not so interesting things at work lately. As the semester winds down, many teachers have asked me to come to their classes to fill in, i.e. waste 50 minutes of the students lives with a self-introduction lesson. That is fine with me. It gives me something to do other than sit at my desk and pretend to organize papers.
But recently, I started going to one first year reading class pretty regularly. This was really interesting because I think that in the short 3 week period with them, I was legitimately able to connect with some students and have some conversations, albeit one sided conversations (mostly monologues with the occasional one word answer and a nod). Those kids were mighty fun. It was a real shame that they were forced to a strict "reading lesson" format, which consisted of the students checking translation, listening to me read a passage slowly, repeating after me, mimicking while reading, and answering questions. I was able to inject a couple of games to get them at least half interested in the nonsensical repetition of day after day, after day of reading about Yoko Ono and organic rice farming techniques. Riveting as that may have been, I felt they needed something a bit more morbid in a hysterical fashion. So, I taught them "hangman." They found this simple vocabulary game to be a favored distraction from monotony.
As the teacher began to see improvements to my students reading comprehension in a matter of a few weeks, he invited teachers from around Kyoto to come and observe one of the lessons with this class. Throughout the day of the observation, teachers were coming up to me saying, "Are you nervous?It was at this moment that I began to switch to logistical mode. How in the unholy nine hells of the Underdark were we going to squeeze 30 additional teachers into a classroom only twice the size of my apartment filled with desks and pesky students. Some how they did it. Half way through the lesson I noticed that the head of my Board of Education was there and so were all of the English teachers in the school as well as the principal and the vice-principal. Yikes.
The class went well and I had nothing but rave reviews from my other teachers.
On a side note, they asked me, as a returning JET to go to Tokyo in July to pick up the newbies at the airport. I am not sure I want to do this because I remember how horrifyingly hot it was when I stepped off the plane. I will see.
Karate:
So as you may or may not know, I have been taking karate for one month now. I have been studying privately with my friend since I arrived in Japan, studying weapons. But now I have a real sensei. And some how in the middle of this weeks practice, we got on the topic of the origin stories of the first emperors of Japan and how the myths say that they are the sons and daughters of the Sun Goddess. That's all fine and dandy, but in reality we all can imagine that he was just some noble who took power way back in the dawn of the age.
The shocking thing about all of this was that, from what I could understand, my sensei believed and still believes that the emperor is the divine son of the Sun Goddess. I would never argue that topic with a man as ferocious and frightening as he.
I had to have my gi (uniform) custom made for me because my legs are too short, my waist too big and my shoulders too wide for a normal size. In Japan, like in the States surprisingly, I fall right in the middle of the gi sizes.
Additionally, my first test will be in the beginning of April. I will be asked to perform one kata (series of movements in conjunction) and the bunkai (the application of that kata in a pair). I will be testing for one of the high ranking white belt divisions. I hope that I do well enough that I can move on to a green belt level by August or so. It is pretty embarrassing being a total newbie. Digression: there are two kids in my class that are black belts. They cannot be older than 13 or so. I sometimes get envious of children.
Personal Life:
Nothing terribly exciting to report. February is terrible and as such, my motivation to explore, discover, photograph, and write has been sucked away. I am going to dinner with some friends this week, taking a break from my usual battles with my inner nerd.
Valentine's day was rather average in comparison to the many other lonely years. Nothing to report. I did go to dinner with several of my single friends. That was nice. We saw an extremely ugly westerner with a rather attractive Japanese girl. We all looked at each other and said, "I wonder if she knows that she can do much better." That was rather comical to me.
Books in Review:
Conan of Cimmeria vol. 1 by Howard - So far really good.
Okinawan Karate by Mark Bishop - Miserably boring. It is just a family tree of Karate styles.
A Personal Matter by Kenzaburo Oe - Also pretty boring. I am not a huge fan of modern Japanese literature.
A Game of Thrones by George RR Martin - A really well written fantasy novel. It is the first of 5 books. I did not care for the story very much, although I loved the characters. The plot moved too slowly for me.
Gaijin by James Clavell - As much as I loved Shogun, I think Clavell missed the mark on this book. I got about half way through it but could not think of any really reason to keep picking it up. The characters were bland and seemingly unmotivated and the plot was left dragging. It sat on my bathroom floor for a good month before I shelved it.
The Musketeer Mystery Novels by Sarah D'Almeida - Sent to me by my grandparents came into good use. I read the first four books in a matter of two weeks. I loved every minute of them. Although I think Dumas' stories are overall more iconic, these 4 stories were great. Her writing style and sense of action resemble Dumas' so closely that it is quite difficult to tell that they were written a century and a half after the original stories.
Upcoming Blogs:
The Leper in the Sardine Can
What a Japanese Graduation Looks Like
And much, much more in future episodes
p.s. - Sorry I have not written in a while, motivation has been lacking of late.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
An Incredible Happiness
The word "happy" is seldom used to describe me or any of my many emotional states. But this weekend I learned the true meaning of happiness. I must first squelch whatever thoughts you might have about me finding happiness in another person (That's terribly unlikely). This time, happiness arrived in the form of a group of friends, many alcoholic drinks, and an incredible chain restaurant called Arabian Rock.
Yet, this was no mere restaurant, folks. This place is a way of life. One part Disney Land, one part Medieval Times, two parts Broadway acting, and a sprinkle of fantasy and Japan has created the most amazing theme restaurant in all the world. Many a time have I passed this restaurant longing for the courage to bask in its unbelievable atmosphere. This place was first found while wandering the local watering holes looking for a new exciting bar. My friends and I were drawn to the area by the classy and elegant look of the most expensive strip club in Kyoto, guarded by two sumo-sized yakuza men in sunglasses, even though the sun had long since set (maybe they were just getting ready for sunrise?). This particular skin vendor has a sign outside stating that for one million yen (about $10,000) per year you can have something. The kanji was too difficult for any of us to figure out. Yet, I digress.
Arabian Rock. A stunning name for a stunning place. This place was suggested to us by two drunken Japanese salary-men after their own Arabian Rock adventure (at the time they seemed like a sketchy source of information, yet they have proved terribly justified in their recommendation). From the very moment of walking through the door, which was conspicuously hidden behind a secret sliding wall requiring the rubbing of a lamp to open, I was in love with this place. The decor, the style, the overall feeling of the place was constantly making me feel more at home. As we waited to be shown to our seats, the deliciously attractive young Japanese woman in Genie garb appeared from the bowels of the restaurant and brought forth a lamp primed with a ether soaked cotton ball and a candle. She beckoned one of us to rub the lamp and as a hand touched the lamp, her candle touched the cotton ball which immediately evaporated in flames.
The meal was nothing particularly special, the only thing I remember about the food itself was that nearly every dish had cheese in it. Yet another reason for my happiness. About an hour into the dinner, the bland 1980's Arabian/disco music was cut off. Only to be replaced by the familiar tunes of a popular Disney childhood memory. But to my, and most of my friends' surprise, the familiar music was not from the Arabian themed Disney movie we expected, Aladdin. It was in fact the Japanese translation of the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack. (Now, I know you are all intrigued as to why this music started playing, sit tight. The story gets exciting.)
The sound of a crash and the blur of a yellow dress, followed clumsily by a giant Chubaka-esque man brought us out of our contemplative and drunken reverie. To our vast pleasure, there was a live action re-enactment of the Beauty and the Beast occurring around the tented off and cloistered dining tables. Eventually, the chaos stopped, the girls in our group and the table next to ours finally finished squealing with girly anticipation, and the good prince's mask came off to reveal...a moderately attractive Japanese man (big surprise there, if you ask me).
After this amazing feature film finished, desserts, all seven of them, were distributed and passed around the table. There was nothing really fantastic aside from the awkward lone, bright red pastry set off away from the others. This apparently intrigued my friend who immediately dove after it. To his surprise and to my excitement, (not because I enjoy seeing my friends in pain, but merely because I knew it would make for great blog material)
the pastry was coated in the hottest sauce ever created by man or the gods. His eyes lit up as if his brain was in flames, and he swallowed, I think. We later learned that this oddball pastry is the practical joke of the dessert tray. It was called the "something something something Akuma something." Akuma, of course, means demon or devil. This is not even the funny part. As he is screaming for some sort of liquid to quench his pain, the table was already cleared and all of the liquids were gone. I tried a small fingertip full of this sauce and my mouth burned for fifteen minutes. I feel very sorry for my friend, yet it remains one of my favorite memories of one of my favorite nights ever.
Yet, this was no mere restaurant, folks. This place is a way of life. One part Disney Land, one part Medieval Times, two parts Broadway acting, and a sprinkle of fantasy and Japan has created the most amazing theme restaurant in all the world. Many a time have I passed this restaurant longing for the courage to bask in its unbelievable atmosphere. This place was first found while wandering the local watering holes looking for a new exciting bar. My friends and I were drawn to the area by the classy and elegant look of the most expensive strip club in Kyoto, guarded by two sumo-sized yakuza men in sunglasses, even though the sun had long since set (maybe they were just getting ready for sunrise?). This particular skin vendor has a sign outside stating that for one million yen (about $10,000) per year you can have something. The kanji was too difficult for any of us to figure out. Yet, I digress.
Arabian Rock. A stunning name for a stunning place. This place was suggested to us by two drunken Japanese salary-men after their own Arabian Rock adventure (at the time they seemed like a sketchy source of information, yet they have proved terribly justified in their recommendation). From the very moment of walking through the door, which was conspicuously hidden behind a secret sliding wall requiring the rubbing of a lamp to open, I was in love with this place. The decor, the style, the overall feeling of the place was constantly making me feel more at home. As we waited to be shown to our seats, the deliciously attractive young Japanese woman in Genie garb appeared from the bowels of the restaurant and brought forth a lamp primed with a ether soaked cotton ball and a candle. She beckoned one of us to rub the lamp and as a hand touched the lamp, her candle touched the cotton ball which immediately evaporated in flames.
The meal was nothing particularly special, the only thing I remember about the food itself was that nearly every dish had cheese in it. Yet another reason for my happiness. About an hour into the dinner, the bland 1980's Arabian/disco music was cut off. Only to be replaced by the familiar tunes of a popular Disney childhood memory. But to my, and most of my friends' surprise, the familiar music was not from the Arabian themed Disney movie we expected, Aladdin. It was in fact the Japanese translation of the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack. (Now, I know you are all intrigued as to why this music started playing, sit tight. The story gets exciting.)
The sound of a crash and the blur of a yellow dress, followed clumsily by a giant Chubaka-esque man brought us out of our contemplative and drunken reverie. To our vast pleasure, there was a live action re-enactment of the Beauty and the Beast occurring around the tented off and cloistered dining tables. Eventually, the chaos stopped, the girls in our group and the table next to ours finally finished squealing with girly anticipation, and the good prince's mask came off to reveal...a moderately attractive Japanese man (big surprise there, if you ask me).
After this amazing feature film finished, desserts, all seven of them, were distributed and passed around the table. There was nothing really fantastic aside from the awkward lone, bright red pastry set off away from the others. This apparently intrigued my friend who immediately dove after it. To his surprise and to my excitement, (not because I enjoy seeing my friends in pain, but merely because I knew it would make for great blog material)
the pastry was coated in the hottest sauce ever created by man or the gods. His eyes lit up as if his brain was in flames, and he swallowed, I think. We later learned that this oddball pastry is the practical joke of the dessert tray. It was called the "something something something Akuma something." Akuma, of course, means demon or devil. This is not even the funny part. As he is screaming for some sort of liquid to quench his pain, the table was already cleared and all of the liquids were gone. I tried a small fingertip full of this sauce and my mouth burned for fifteen minutes. I feel very sorry for my friend, yet it remains one of my favorite memories of one of my favorite nights ever.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Woah, You Really Mean That?
So today's entry is largely an attempt to waste the last 45 minutes of work while pretending to be busy. That being said, feel free to skip today's events. That also being said, don't skip today's entry, you would miss out on all the wonderful things I have to say about Yoko Ono, historical inaccuracies, and the library challenge.
I suppose I should preface the first part of this entry by saying, I do not like Yoko Ono. I think her music is vile and her art is nonsense. All things considered, she is praised like a god here. In one of my many first-year reading classes, the teacher is using a textbook which claims that Ono Yoko, a.k.a Yoko Ono, is the most famous Japanese person in the world. I refuse to believe this. If this is true, I just might lose faith in all of humanity. I would much rather have Ken Wantanabe sing the Carpenters' love songs in falsetto than listen to the squealing noise that Ono puts out. (I am almost certain that Mr. Wantanabe, seen in The Last Samurai with Tom Cruise, does not sing Carpenters' love songs.) I do not believe she is the most famous Japanese person. If it were not for John Lennon and the Beatles, and a more sordid affair there is not, she would be some obscure hippie with nothing of any real value.
Now that I have brought up Yoko's relationship with the Beatles, I think I should state my own personal opinions on this matter. Since my childhood as a Westerner, I have never heard a good word said about Yoko Ono. Every mention of her name was usually followed up by the inevitable, "She broke up the Beatles" argument. But here in Japan, she is loved. Her history and story have been altered like so many Japanese history textbooks to look favorably on her as an artist and musician. Shenanigans.
On a less gut-churning topic, today was a difficult and busy day, filled with failure and hilarity. In an attempt to waste the next 4 weeks of class in my Oral Communications class, the teacher and I have decided to start a persuasive argument presentation unit. This basically means that every day, we will go to the library and the students will pretend to work on their presentations and speeches while the teacher and I walk around the library looking for the English book section, which I unfortunately found.
Yes, that is in fact the entire English book section. Sixteen books. Sixteen illustrated plot summaries. Fantastic.
But I digress. I bring all of this up because one student, the same student that is constantly a troublemaker, was trying to hide from me the whole class period. I am not a stupid person, I knew exactly what he was doing. I was a student myself not to long ago. I know all the good ways to make it look as if you are working, but really playing video games on the Nintendo DS. The reason I pace my classrooms like a prison warden is because if I did not, they would sit on their cell phones and e-mail each other or play Nintendo DS. And this kid was just really bad at hiding his activities. He knew that I knew what he was doing and did not care. That is what pissed me off, not that he was playing video games when he should have been researching in the library. So every so often I would walk by him and stop and stare down at him. Eventually he would notice that I was hovering over him and he would look up and smile, knowing that I could not stop him from doing what ever the hell he wanted (yet another significant difference between American and Japanese schools, not to mention my own lack of power as a pseudo-educator). It just comes with the territory. Eventually, the librarian caught him and took away his video game, which actually made me laugh maniacally so that the entire library turned at looked at me. I gave them the stink eye and continued my goose step-esque gait, dodging backpacks and umbrellas. I would have been right at home at the Ministry of Funny Walks.
(Tune in next time for a something much more exciting)
I suppose I should preface the first part of this entry by saying, I do not like Yoko Ono. I think her music is vile and her art is nonsense. All things considered, she is praised like a god here. In one of my many first-year reading classes, the teacher is using a textbook which claims that Ono Yoko, a.k.a Yoko Ono, is the most famous Japanese person in the world. I refuse to believe this. If this is true, I just might lose faith in all of humanity. I would much rather have Ken Wantanabe sing the Carpenters' love songs in falsetto than listen to the squealing noise that Ono puts out. (I am almost certain that Mr. Wantanabe, seen in The Last Samurai with Tom Cruise, does not sing Carpenters' love songs.) I do not believe she is the most famous Japanese person. If it were not for John Lennon and the Beatles, and a more sordid affair there is not, she would be some obscure hippie with nothing of any real value.
Now that I have brought up Yoko's relationship with the Beatles, I think I should state my own personal opinions on this matter. Since my childhood as a Westerner, I have never heard a good word said about Yoko Ono. Every mention of her name was usually followed up by the inevitable, "She broke up the Beatles" argument. But here in Japan, she is loved. Her history and story have been altered like so many Japanese history textbooks to look favorably on her as an artist and musician. Shenanigans.
On a less gut-churning topic, today was a difficult and busy day, filled with failure and hilarity. In an attempt to waste the next 4 weeks of class in my Oral Communications class, the teacher and I have decided to start a persuasive argument presentation unit. This basically means that every day, we will go to the library and the students will pretend to work on their presentations and speeches while the teacher and I walk around the library looking for the English book section, which I unfortunately found.
Yes, that is in fact the entire English book section. Sixteen books. Sixteen illustrated plot summaries. Fantastic. But I digress. I bring all of this up because one student, the same student that is constantly a troublemaker, was trying to hide from me the whole class period. I am not a stupid person, I knew exactly what he was doing. I was a student myself not to long ago. I know all the good ways to make it look as if you are working, but really playing video games on the Nintendo DS. The reason I pace my classrooms like a prison warden is because if I did not, they would sit on their cell phones and e-mail each other or play Nintendo DS. And this kid was just really bad at hiding his activities. He knew that I knew what he was doing and did not care. That is what pissed me off, not that he was playing video games when he should have been researching in the library. So every so often I would walk by him and stop and stare down at him. Eventually he would notice that I was hovering over him and he would look up and smile, knowing that I could not stop him from doing what ever the hell he wanted (yet another significant difference between American and Japanese schools, not to mention my own lack of power as a pseudo-educator). It just comes with the territory. Eventually, the librarian caught him and took away his video game, which actually made me laugh maniacally so that the entire library turned at looked at me. I gave them the stink eye and continued my goose step-esque gait, dodging backpacks and umbrellas. I would have been right at home at the Ministry of Funny Walks.
(Tune in next time for a something much more exciting)
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