As if you needed further prove that I am not playing with a full deck, I have truly out-bizarred myself this week.
I haven't been sleeping well and have thus become mildly irritable. So on Tuesday for some reason I was looking at the Marks and Spencer website (for those non-Brits, M&S is a quality-not fashion- family clothes store that's recently fallen on hard times) and I became very annoyed. Many of the male models modelling knitwear were wearing strong coloured jumpers (sweaters) with nasty white or beige pleated trousers. The jumpers thus looked cheap and dull rather than simple and stylish (Who wouldn't become annoyed at that? Please, don't answer that question). So I emailed to complain. As you would. Having given them my Japan address, I ended the email with the phrase, "so I'm not some mad bitchy foreigner". That must have been the winning point, because two days later I received a reply.
And a very nice reply too, not in the slightest bit narky, just very professional. That's the kind of customer service that all should aim for. I heart M&S. And I bloody well miss their food hall.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Are you some kind of nappy wearing freak...
or is that just a yearly festival you're participating in?
As you can guess already, the end of last week was quite different. Which was a good thing, because, after the excitement of the shiny big city (Hiroshima), the week had been pretty so-so. It had started with a dance class on Monday where at one point I just stopped because I didn't have a clue (no one did, but I was clearly the most clueless), and it didn't help that we were dancing (or not dancing as the case may be) to some drippy Elton John ballad. Then there was an English conversation class on Tuesday where no-one turned up (but at least it meant I got to have dinner with the class' organiser and she's an interesting woman), dinner at Johanna's on Wednesday (always fun, never a chore) and a night in, tidying and cleaning on Thursday (as is becoming a frequent occurrence).
Friday is when the fun started.
Kathleen gave me a lift to Okayama city, (the capital of 'the sunshine prefecture'. It was bloody pouring. And not that fine rain that soaks you through either. It was that bloody heavy rain.) where we met Kathleen's boyfriend Mike, and Fiona. Dinner was Hokkaido curry soup, and ooh it were gorgeous. It had a flavour more akin to Indian curry than Japanese curry, and lots of chunky, chunky veg and rice. Mmm. I could eat it again now. And then we retired to Mike's to watch a video we'd rented. It was called Elephant and was possibly the slowest film I have ever seen. It lasted two hours. If you edit the unimportant bits it could have lasted maybe 14 minutes. And you'd still have time in there to add some sort of proper ending. Crapola.
Saturday was an important day. Having not many any gays since I came here, the chance came to meet up with the gay JETs group. And what situation could have been more fitting than the NAKED MAN FESTIVAL (this is a completely bizarre Japanese festival- lots of men in adult nappies/ diapers chase after a stick that will win them £500). So I met some of the group early and we went for lunch and then met the rest of the group and their friends and we all went for tea. I don't think I've been anywhere before where the waiter asks what drinks people want and someone shouts "20 gin and tonics please". Somehow I felt immediately at home. After about 2 hours, maybe 8 or 9 rounds of gin and some obscene behaviour with a lady called Catherine, we left the restaurant to meet all the other JETs going to the festival. And to buy more booze, much of which was consumed on the half hour bus ride there.
By the time we got there (9:10pm) I was completely plastered, but in an attempt to maintain the spirit of my recent life, I continued drinking, pausing only to glug some water when I thought I might vomit. This caused more problems as, having watched some men in nappies "running" (this is what they called it but they lie- the men walked) through a pool of water I decided I needed the loo. And not noticing that I was stood a metre and a half from one, I went into the night and walked for ages eventually only finding a dark car park, and then on my way back, finding a Japanese gentleman who wanted to and did give me a 40 minute lecture on the history of martial arts in Japan. In Japanese. It's probably my fault for, 10 minutes into the conversation, saying that I did Judo when I was seven. "Black belt?", he asked me. Ha ha ha haaaaaaa. If the alcohol hadn't numbed my senses I'd have been rolling on the floor. As it was I was swaying through the next 30 minutes. I wandered back to the ticketed compound to see in the distance lots of men in high waisted nappies pushing each other depite the fact that they were in a temple with many steep stairs. And I wandered around and talked to a few people and Saddam introduced me to a few people, and Rayvon swapped her pink woolly hat for a bandana with some Japanese men, and then someone said "back to the buses". It was 12pm! And it was 12:10pm when I realised I was lost and had to retrace my drunken stumblings to find people.
The bus back was a much quieter affair, and most of us went back to the hotel to try and sleep it off. And boy did I try. But given that my air con was broken and the room was an oven, when I woke at 6am after maybe 3.5 hours sleep I could not fall back to sleep. And by 9am I was extending kind greetings to the toilet bowl. Again. Checkout was at 10am so I shuffled down to the foyer, mumbled at everyone I saw (at the time it seemed like normal speech) and then ate and drank nothing when we went for breakfast. I would say I was maintaining an image of dietary discipline, but really I just felt like shite.
The afternoon was spent with a similarly ill LeeJay at Fiona's, where we stayed until it was time to go home and crash into bed. And again the week started. LeeJay came to mine for dinner on Monday, tuesday's conversation class had 4 attendees (success? a) and today Nao chan, a very-heavy-cold-ridden LeeJay and I went to tea at Pocketto (cheese in omu rice- mmm.) And everyday I've had to stop myself falling asleep at school. Whoops... I hope I sleep tonight and tomorrow. Must be ready for the Scissor Sisters in Osaka on Saturday (yes, I am showing off now). TTFN.
As you can guess already, the end of last week was quite different. Which was a good thing, because, after the excitement of the shiny big city (Hiroshima), the week had been pretty so-so. It had started with a dance class on Monday where at one point I just stopped because I didn't have a clue (no one did, but I was clearly the most clueless), and it didn't help that we were dancing (or not dancing as the case may be) to some drippy Elton John ballad. Then there was an English conversation class on Tuesday where no-one turned up (but at least it meant I got to have dinner with the class' organiser and she's an interesting woman), dinner at Johanna's on Wednesday (always fun, never a chore) and a night in, tidying and cleaning on Thursday (as is becoming a frequent occurrence).
Friday is when the fun started.
Kathleen gave me a lift to Okayama city, (the capital of 'the sunshine prefecture'. It was bloody pouring. And not that fine rain that soaks you through either. It was that bloody heavy rain.) where we met Kathleen's boyfriend Mike, and Fiona. Dinner was Hokkaido curry soup, and ooh it were gorgeous. It had a flavour more akin to Indian curry than Japanese curry, and lots of chunky, chunky veg and rice. Mmm. I could eat it again now. And then we retired to Mike's to watch a video we'd rented. It was called Elephant and was possibly the slowest film I have ever seen. It lasted two hours. If you edit the unimportant bits it could have lasted maybe 14 minutes. And you'd still have time in there to add some sort of proper ending. Crapola.
Saturday was an important day. Having not many any gays since I came here, the chance came to meet up with the gay JETs group. And what situation could have been more fitting than the NAKED MAN FESTIVAL (this is a completely bizarre Japanese festival- lots of men in adult nappies/ diapers chase after a stick that will win them £500). So I met some of the group early and we went for lunch and then met the rest of the group and their friends and we all went for tea. I don't think I've been anywhere before where the waiter asks what drinks people want and someone shouts "20 gin and tonics please". Somehow I felt immediately at home. After about 2 hours, maybe 8 or 9 rounds of gin and some obscene behaviour with a lady called Catherine, we left the restaurant to meet all the other JETs going to the festival. And to buy more booze, much of which was consumed on the half hour bus ride there.
By the time we got there (9:10pm) I was completely plastered, but in an attempt to maintain the spirit of my recent life, I continued drinking, pausing only to glug some water when I thought I might vomit. This caused more problems as, having watched some men in nappies "running" (this is what they called it but they lie- the men walked) through a pool of water I decided I needed the loo. And not noticing that I was stood a metre and a half from one, I went into the night and walked for ages eventually only finding a dark car park, and then on my way back, finding a Japanese gentleman who wanted to and did give me a 40 minute lecture on the history of martial arts in Japan. In Japanese. It's probably my fault for, 10 minutes into the conversation, saying that I did Judo when I was seven. "Black belt?", he asked me. Ha ha ha haaaaaaa. If the alcohol hadn't numbed my senses I'd have been rolling on the floor. As it was I was swaying through the next 30 minutes. I wandered back to the ticketed compound to see in the distance lots of men in high waisted nappies pushing each other depite the fact that they were in a temple with many steep stairs. And I wandered around and talked to a few people and Saddam introduced me to a few people, and Rayvon swapped her pink woolly hat for a bandana with some Japanese men, and then someone said "back to the buses". It was 12pm! And it was 12:10pm when I realised I was lost and had to retrace my drunken stumblings to find people.
The bus back was a much quieter affair, and most of us went back to the hotel to try and sleep it off. And boy did I try. But given that my air con was broken and the room was an oven, when I woke at 6am after maybe 3.5 hours sleep I could not fall back to sleep. And by 9am I was extending kind greetings to the toilet bowl. Again. Checkout was at 10am so I shuffled down to the foyer, mumbled at everyone I saw (at the time it seemed like normal speech) and then ate and drank nothing when we went for breakfast. I would say I was maintaining an image of dietary discipline, but really I just felt like shite.
The afternoon was spent with a similarly ill LeeJay at Fiona's, where we stayed until it was time to go home and crash into bed. And again the week started. LeeJay came to mine for dinner on Monday, tuesday's conversation class had 4 attendees (success? a) and today Nao chan, a very-heavy-cold-ridden LeeJay and I went to tea at Pocketto (cheese in omu rice- mmm.) And everyday I've had to stop myself falling asleep at school. Whoops... I hope I sleep tonight and tomorrow. Must be ready for the Scissor Sisters in Osaka on Saturday (yes, I am showing off now). TTFN.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Monday, February 14, 2005
A man named Kei
It's probably become a standard that everyone who visits Japan goes to Hiroshima, or at least wants to, and when I first came to Japan on holiday in 2003 I too had the same desire. That time, much of my short stay was spent away from the city in the suburbs of Hiroshima or on the beautiful island of Miyajima, with it's famous floating torii gate. A one hour trip to the Hiroshima peace park and Atomic bomb museum increased my awareness of what happened on August 6th 1945, but it was a visit made in the context of sight-seeing and was ultimately only a cursory one.
And so the opportunity came to return to Hiroshima. Sarah was going to meet her friend Lucy, and Johanna and I wanted to go as well, so we trundled along together with Lucy's friend Suzanne and made our way to the World Friendship Center, a house 20 mins from the memorial area which offered bed and breakfast and lots of other services. The centre is run with the cooperation of the A-bomb survivors and many organisations that work for peace, and they aim to educate people about what happened and what the bomb meant for it's victims. One way they do this is through organising meetings between A-bomb survivors and civilians, usually tourists or foreigners like us. So, on Saturday morning, having spent time on Friday in the museum trying to learn what happened, we went back to the museum to meet a survivor. A man named Kei.
Keijiro Matsushima (Kei to his friends) is 76 years old, born and raised in Hiroshima city. His family consisted of five members, for whom 1945 was a terrible year. His two brothers were fighting in the war; his father was seriously ill and with the city under continual threat of bombing, Kei's mother and father evacuated to his father's old home 40kms north east of the city. In the month following their evacuation, Kei's father died.
As a 16 year old just starting high school, Kei was one of the many school students drafted to work pulling down houses to make firebreaks (the city's housing stock was largely wooden, and should fire break out it would spread rapidly), or to work in munitions factories. He was living in a dormitory where, like everywhere else, food was short and they were always hungry.
At the beginning of August it was decided that some students should return to classes for a short period of schooling, and first graders at high school were among this group. And at 8am on August the 6th, 1945, Kei was sat in his second floor classroom at his desk next to the window in a maths lesson, 2 kms away from where the bomb was to explode. Kei feels lucky that school started so early, commenting that "if school was to start at 8:30, I might have been in the street-car and barbecued".
It was 8:15 when Kei looked out of the window to see only 2 of the three B-29 bombers that were in the skies over Hiroshima. It was 8:15 when he saw the flash. And then felt the heat. And the shockwaves. At the epicentre, temperatures of 4,000 degrees had killed all living organisms instantly, leaving no traces other than shadows. Shockwaves destroyed nearly everything standing in their path. Kei didn't know this and, like everyone else, thought a bomb had gone off outside his building. In an instant he had jumped under his desk, covering his eyes and mouth and heard a huge noise. He is still uncertain whether it was the explosion or the sound of buildings collapsing with the shockwaves.
Kei started to crawl towards the exit, and soon realised that he was covered in blood from shards of glass from the shattered window. He thought of death, and he thought of his mother, and he started to pray, chanting Buddhist sutras. Unaware of how long had passed, Kei made his way down the spiral staircase to witness scenes of horror and destruction in the streets outside. With so many students injured, Kei felt he should help, and started to assist a friend in getting to the hospital. As they walked into the city, they were met by many people shuffling away from the flames. Kei describes these people as looking like "smoked and broiled pigs... damaged, swollen up and disfigured so badly." They marched with their arms held out in front of them, their clothes burnt and singed with faces like baked pumpkin (in Japan, pumpkins are green and the skin blisters and bubbles when cooked). They had no voices, there was no crying and screaming. Around them houses were smashed and power lines fallen, and when they arrived at the hospital they saw the crowds awaiting help, among them many of the doctors and nurses themselves badly burned and wounded. Kei and his friend turned back to the school and his friend was picked up by one of the first rescue trucks. He also survived.
Kei decided to make his escape from the city, and his first stop would be his dormitory to collect his belongings. But his dormitory was ruined and nothing was salvageable. He continued on his way and on reaching the Miyuki bridge he stopped momentarily. Noting that stones from the bridge had fallen in one direction only (those of the north side feel to the pavement below and those of the south side plunged to the bottom of the river) Kei recalled an article about America's new weapon he had read in a magazine for boys. He realised that there must have been only one strong blast and perhaps the Americans had invented an atomic bomb.
Looking at the city from the bridge Kei saw many places he remembered from his youth. Now they were destroyed and covered in thick grey smoke. He recalls feeling ready to make a kamikaze attack, that he would have committed suicide in order to protect Japan and injure the enemy, but in hindsight he calls this stupid, and that "education is a great thing."
Kei finally made it to the train station at 5pm, almost 9 hours after the bomb dropped. He finally reached his mother's home at 12 midnight, and she was surprised, glad and relieved, having seen the flash and heard the boom from the paddy fields where she was working. Everyone around her had been certain that there were no survivors.
For the next week Kei was bedridden with diarrhea and fever, both symptoms of radiation sickness, a fate that faced many relatives of the victims who entered the city the next day to search for relatives. Many survivors died the night of August 6th, many days later and many over the following months and years of a myriad illnesses such as cancers and leukemia. Kei himself suffered further illness, with stomach problems and cancer of the kidney. Fortunately both were operable, but the frequency of such illnesses is much higher in survivors of the A-bomb.
Six days after the 2nd bomb had fallen in Nagasaki, the Emporer was heard by the people for the first time in history. To the people of Japan, the Emporer was God, and the Emporer was Japan. He spoke on the radio and declared that Japan would surrender to the enemy. Kei describes feeling both relieved and disappointed. Relieved that bombings would be over and that he would be able to sleep better, but disappointed because during the war, students had been educated that they should live and die for the Emporer and thus for Japan.
Kei went on to become a Junior High school English teacher, and worked in the US in 1966 teaching in various schools.
Now Kei works for peace. He, and many other survivors and inhabitants of Hiroshima work in the hope that the nuclear weaponry should never again be used on this earth, and that all nuclear weapons will be destroyed. The Mayor of Hiroshima is tireless in his work as representative of his town, writing continuously to governments and nations whose activities threaten to break agreed treaties on the reduction of nuclear arms. It is thought that 140,000 people died in Hiroshima in 1945 as a result of the atomic bomb.
Hiroshima itself is now a magical city, both welcoming and surprising. The city was rebuilt completely, and important historical monuments such as Hiroshima Castle and Shukkei-en gardens (a landscaped park originally constructed in the 1600s) have been rebuilt to reflect their former glory. The modern city is vibrant and joyous. People are friendly, such as Machiko, the lady who ran the Okonomiyaki restaurant and entertained while she cooked, and the waiter in Opium bar, who asked us to write english slogans on a pair of jeans and then gave us free cake as a thank you. But among the newness that surrounds you are constant reminders of where this city came from. Plaques and stones dotted along pavements and hidden in backstreets commemorate those who died, and those family lines that were ended by the bomb. Hiroshima is a city that does not want it's past to be in vain, and it is a city that has a very bright future.
And so the opportunity came to return to Hiroshima. Sarah was going to meet her friend Lucy, and Johanna and I wanted to go as well, so we trundled along together with Lucy's friend Suzanne and made our way to the World Friendship Center, a house 20 mins from the memorial area which offered bed and breakfast and lots of other services. The centre is run with the cooperation of the A-bomb survivors and many organisations that work for peace, and they aim to educate people about what happened and what the bomb meant for it's victims. One way they do this is through organising meetings between A-bomb survivors and civilians, usually tourists or foreigners like us. So, on Saturday morning, having spent time on Friday in the museum trying to learn what happened, we went back to the museum to meet a survivor. A man named Kei.
Keijiro Matsushima (Kei to his friends) is 76 years old, born and raised in Hiroshima city. His family consisted of five members, for whom 1945 was a terrible year. His two brothers were fighting in the war; his father was seriously ill and with the city under continual threat of bombing, Kei's mother and father evacuated to his father's old home 40kms north east of the city. In the month following their evacuation, Kei's father died.
As a 16 year old just starting high school, Kei was one of the many school students drafted to work pulling down houses to make firebreaks (the city's housing stock was largely wooden, and should fire break out it would spread rapidly), or to work in munitions factories. He was living in a dormitory where, like everywhere else, food was short and they were always hungry.
At the beginning of August it was decided that some students should return to classes for a short period of schooling, and first graders at high school were among this group. And at 8am on August the 6th, 1945, Kei was sat in his second floor classroom at his desk next to the window in a maths lesson, 2 kms away from where the bomb was to explode. Kei feels lucky that school started so early, commenting that "if school was to start at 8:30, I might have been in the street-car and barbecued".
It was 8:15 when Kei looked out of the window to see only 2 of the three B-29 bombers that were in the skies over Hiroshima. It was 8:15 when he saw the flash. And then felt the heat. And the shockwaves. At the epicentre, temperatures of 4,000 degrees had killed all living organisms instantly, leaving no traces other than shadows. Shockwaves destroyed nearly everything standing in their path. Kei didn't know this and, like everyone else, thought a bomb had gone off outside his building. In an instant he had jumped under his desk, covering his eyes and mouth and heard a huge noise. He is still uncertain whether it was the explosion or the sound of buildings collapsing with the shockwaves.
Kei started to crawl towards the exit, and soon realised that he was covered in blood from shards of glass from the shattered window. He thought of death, and he thought of his mother, and he started to pray, chanting Buddhist sutras. Unaware of how long had passed, Kei made his way down the spiral staircase to witness scenes of horror and destruction in the streets outside. With so many students injured, Kei felt he should help, and started to assist a friend in getting to the hospital. As they walked into the city, they were met by many people shuffling away from the flames. Kei describes these people as looking like "smoked and broiled pigs... damaged, swollen up and disfigured so badly." They marched with their arms held out in front of them, their clothes burnt and singed with faces like baked pumpkin (in Japan, pumpkins are green and the skin blisters and bubbles when cooked). They had no voices, there was no crying and screaming. Around them houses were smashed and power lines fallen, and when they arrived at the hospital they saw the crowds awaiting help, among them many of the doctors and nurses themselves badly burned and wounded. Kei and his friend turned back to the school and his friend was picked up by one of the first rescue trucks. He also survived.
Kei decided to make his escape from the city, and his first stop would be his dormitory to collect his belongings. But his dormitory was ruined and nothing was salvageable. He continued on his way and on reaching the Miyuki bridge he stopped momentarily. Noting that stones from the bridge had fallen in one direction only (those of the north side feel to the pavement below and those of the south side plunged to the bottom of the river) Kei recalled an article about America's new weapon he had read in a magazine for boys. He realised that there must have been only one strong blast and perhaps the Americans had invented an atomic bomb.
Looking at the city from the bridge Kei saw many places he remembered from his youth. Now they were destroyed and covered in thick grey smoke. He recalls feeling ready to make a kamikaze attack, that he would have committed suicide in order to protect Japan and injure the enemy, but in hindsight he calls this stupid, and that "education is a great thing."
Kei finally made it to the train station at 5pm, almost 9 hours after the bomb dropped. He finally reached his mother's home at 12 midnight, and she was surprised, glad and relieved, having seen the flash and heard the boom from the paddy fields where she was working. Everyone around her had been certain that there were no survivors.
For the next week Kei was bedridden with diarrhea and fever, both symptoms of radiation sickness, a fate that faced many relatives of the victims who entered the city the next day to search for relatives. Many survivors died the night of August 6th, many days later and many over the following months and years of a myriad illnesses such as cancers and leukemia. Kei himself suffered further illness, with stomach problems and cancer of the kidney. Fortunately both were operable, but the frequency of such illnesses is much higher in survivors of the A-bomb.
Six days after the 2nd bomb had fallen in Nagasaki, the Emporer was heard by the people for the first time in history. To the people of Japan, the Emporer was God, and the Emporer was Japan. He spoke on the radio and declared that Japan would surrender to the enemy. Kei describes feeling both relieved and disappointed. Relieved that bombings would be over and that he would be able to sleep better, but disappointed because during the war, students had been educated that they should live and die for the Emporer and thus for Japan.
Kei went on to become a Junior High school English teacher, and worked in the US in 1966 teaching in various schools.
Now Kei works for peace. He, and many other survivors and inhabitants of Hiroshima work in the hope that the nuclear weaponry should never again be used on this earth, and that all nuclear weapons will be destroyed. The Mayor of Hiroshima is tireless in his work as representative of his town, writing continuously to governments and nations whose activities threaten to break agreed treaties on the reduction of nuclear arms. It is thought that 140,000 people died in Hiroshima in 1945 as a result of the atomic bomb.
Hiroshima itself is now a magical city, both welcoming and surprising. The city was rebuilt completely, and important historical monuments such as Hiroshima Castle and Shukkei-en gardens (a landscaped park originally constructed in the 1600s) have been rebuilt to reflect their former glory. The modern city is vibrant and joyous. People are friendly, such as Machiko, the lady who ran the Okonomiyaki restaurant and entertained while she cooked, and the waiter in Opium bar, who asked us to write english slogans on a pair of jeans and then gave us free cake as a thank you. But among the newness that surrounds you are constant reminders of where this city came from. Plaques and stones dotted along pavements and hidden in backstreets commemorate those who died, and those family lines that were ended by the bomb. Hiroshima is a city that does not want it's past to be in vain, and it is a city that has a very bright future.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Doo be dood'ne dooby doobe doo be dood'ne
doobe dood'ne dooby doo. Words of wisdom once sung by Diana Ross. And often, it seems, spoken by the locals round here. Or at least that's how morning meeting sounds every day, reinforcing my belief that perhaps my Japanese language ability hasn't grown as I'd hope it would. Although I now know the kanji for aubergine (茄) which as you can imagine is useful in most daily situations. Oh well. Small steps and that.
In fact much of last week was taken in only small steps, thakns to the snow that seemed to go on and on with only inconvenient effect. Tueday truly was a winter wonderland, so much so that we cancelled conversation class, and LeeJay came to mine for tea. I decided to be considerate (never works for me) and rented a Spanish film as Leejay is bi-lingual (I said LINGUAL). The film had the kanji for English on the back, and looked like it had English subtitles. D'oh. We start watching the film (which fortunately I have seen before) and it has no English subtitles or spoken track. All it had was an English spoken commentary by the director which really would have ruined it for both of us as opposed to just me. But Leejay wasn't taken with it anyway, so we made up our own story and made obscene comments throughout the film's more serious moments.
Wednesday was similar, so we also didn't attend dance class and I watched Phoenix Nights on DVD and brushed up on my Northern accent (too many Californian-isms have been slipping in lately. That will sound so wrong when I return home...)
Thursday was a surprisingly good evening. LeeJay, Nao chan and I went to dinner (where I decided that perhaps the old testament is right after all. Gays should be stoned. Oh no, wrong page. I mean, shellfish shouldn't be eaten). Prawns (shrimp if you're American) are big in Japan (even the small ones are meaty) and they actually have loads of flavour. Loads of horrible flavour. Couple them with scallops and you have a recipe for evil. I can't think of a nice thing that comes out of a shell. Apart from Mars bars that you get in the shop when you pay for your petrol (mmm, Mars Bars). But it was OK, as after dinner we went to karaoke in Ochiai town in the Riverside hotel. This hotel has a wedding chapel, a hot springs (onsen), golf range and all sorts of other posh amenities. But the karaoke really rules- clear sound, walls that are solid, up-to-date songbooks with a beautiful selection of English songs (including "Never Ending Story" and "Let's Hear It For The Boy") and surround sound, so that the horror truly is everywhere. LeeJay and I were both drunk by the time we left. For me it was a warm up for Friday.
Having finished a busy school day where I took 3 lessons on my one, I rushed to the salon for emergency hair-straightening (I was being likened to a **young** Keith Richards). Yay! Now I know I'm not allergic to straightening chemicals. A while ago Kapo-san, the lady who organises our English conversation club, planned to start translating menus in local restaurants, so we decided to all do it together, I met her and Christine in town's best restaurant. Translation was interesting, and we got to try some new and tasty dishes. We also learned which ones to avoid- cows intestines, old (as in mature) chicken and other horrors were on the menu. I offered the opinion that there was no point putting these on the menu as very few native English speakers would really want to be eating these things...
After a while we had enough and headed to the yakitori (grilled chicken) restaurant where I ate tofu (thank God tofu is good here). We also met some new people. This group of 4 Japanese people started talking to us, and they were funny and friendly. They were also asking strange questions- do I love any of my students, do I think it's OK, etc. No. Not. No. No. It's wrong, and even moreso when the oldest of my students is 15. I will not be dating any of my students, although they are all nice human beings. That seemed to please them and they bought us loads of drinks. Christine and I were soon drunk and having bizarre arguments about Africa where we both managed to offend each other, but we soon got over it and drank more. And then the people went to Karaoke and Kapo san and I joined them.
I was still drunk on Saturday morning when I awoke at 8 to catch the bus at 9:30 (that's two weeks in a row now...) as I had to be at the Doctor's in the city early. Bum. But I made it ok having sobered up on the bus and then met Fiona and we wandered round the city We went to Japan's 3rd most beautiful gardens and then to the prefectural museum where I struggled to decipher the Japanese signs and Fiona simply read the English underneath them. This was a nice, cheap day out. Both of us have decided to try and stop spending, so we went to the supermarket and pigged out on cake and choc and I made kimchee fried rice for dinner (not in the supermarket mind, I cooked at Fiona's. I dread to think what they'd have done if I whipped out a frying pan and camping stove in the middle of the freezer section.) And Fiona joined the video club so we rented Nausica (a Japanese anime film, which was brilliant) and Flashdance, which was slightly less brilliant, but extremely hilarious in an "oh dear" kind of way.
Sunday was a quiet day. We woke up late and went for breakfast at an almost 24 hour restaurant near Fiona's. The food was good, and when I made my selection and asked the waiter if it continued meat, he confidently said "no". And then confidently came back 3 minutes later and said, "yes". So my next choice was a "yes", and the next, and then a firm "no". I no longer trust firm "no"s or bacon bits. In England, bacon bits are made of soya, so they can be enjoyed by pensioners, children, Muslims and Jewish folk alike. In Japan they are made of pig. And they had sprinkled pig all over my breakfast. And not having the vocabulary to argue (nor the motivation) I did my best to remove said animal, but have been feeling a bit piggy since.
Monday was my first visit to the local elementary school since before Christmas, and was a busy school day (yay!), but due to the weather (rain and poor visibility and ice) we didn't go to class in the evening. So I went to LeeJay's, she cooked dinner, and we watched her box set of the Golden Girls for, ooh, 3 hours. Yay! Top notch sarcasm and bitching. It felt like home...
In fact much of last week was taken in only small steps, thakns to the snow that seemed to go on and on with only inconvenient effect. Tueday truly was a winter wonderland, so much so that we cancelled conversation class, and LeeJay came to mine for tea. I decided to be considerate (never works for me) and rented a Spanish film as Leejay is bi-lingual (I said LINGUAL). The film had the kanji for English on the back, and looked like it had English subtitles. D'oh. We start watching the film (which fortunately I have seen before) and it has no English subtitles or spoken track. All it had was an English spoken commentary by the director which really would have ruined it for both of us as opposed to just me. But Leejay wasn't taken with it anyway, so we made up our own story and made obscene comments throughout the film's more serious moments.
Wednesday was similar, so we also didn't attend dance class and I watched Phoenix Nights on DVD and brushed up on my Northern accent (too many Californian-isms have been slipping in lately. That will sound so wrong when I return home...)
Thursday was a surprisingly good evening. LeeJay, Nao chan and I went to dinner (where I decided that perhaps the old testament is right after all. Gays should be stoned. Oh no, wrong page. I mean, shellfish shouldn't be eaten). Prawns (shrimp if you're American) are big in Japan (even the small ones are meaty) and they actually have loads of flavour. Loads of horrible flavour. Couple them with scallops and you have a recipe for evil. I can't think of a nice thing that comes out of a shell. Apart from Mars bars that you get in the shop when you pay for your petrol (mmm, Mars Bars). But it was OK, as after dinner we went to karaoke in Ochiai town in the Riverside hotel. This hotel has a wedding chapel, a hot springs (onsen), golf range and all sorts of other posh amenities. But the karaoke really rules- clear sound, walls that are solid, up-to-date songbooks with a beautiful selection of English songs (including "Never Ending Story" and "Let's Hear It For The Boy") and surround sound, so that the horror truly is everywhere. LeeJay and I were both drunk by the time we left. For me it was a warm up for Friday.
Having finished a busy school day where I took 3 lessons on my one, I rushed to the salon for emergency hair-straightening (I was being likened to a **young** Keith Richards). Yay! Now I know I'm not allergic to straightening chemicals. A while ago Kapo-san, the lady who organises our English conversation club, planned to start translating menus in local restaurants, so we decided to all do it together, I met her and Christine in town's best restaurant. Translation was interesting, and we got to try some new and tasty dishes. We also learned which ones to avoid- cows intestines, old (as in mature) chicken and other horrors were on the menu. I offered the opinion that there was no point putting these on the menu as very few native English speakers would really want to be eating these things...
After a while we had enough and headed to the yakitori (grilled chicken) restaurant where I ate tofu (thank God tofu is good here). We also met some new people. This group of 4 Japanese people started talking to us, and they were funny and friendly. They were also asking strange questions- do I love any of my students, do I think it's OK, etc. No. Not. No. No. It's wrong, and even moreso when the oldest of my students is 15. I will not be dating any of my students, although they are all nice human beings. That seemed to please them and they bought us loads of drinks. Christine and I were soon drunk and having bizarre arguments about Africa where we both managed to offend each other, but we soon got over it and drank more. And then the people went to Karaoke and Kapo san and I joined them.
I was still drunk on Saturday morning when I awoke at 8 to catch the bus at 9:30 (that's two weeks in a row now...) as I had to be at the Doctor's in the city early. Bum. But I made it ok having sobered up on the bus and then met Fiona and we wandered round the city We went to Japan's 3rd most beautiful gardens and then to the prefectural museum where I struggled to decipher the Japanese signs and Fiona simply read the English underneath them. This was a nice, cheap day out. Both of us have decided to try and stop spending, so we went to the supermarket and pigged out on cake and choc and I made kimchee fried rice for dinner (not in the supermarket mind, I cooked at Fiona's. I dread to think what they'd have done if I whipped out a frying pan and camping stove in the middle of the freezer section.) And Fiona joined the video club so we rented Nausica (a Japanese anime film, which was brilliant) and Flashdance, which was slightly less brilliant, but extremely hilarious in an "oh dear" kind of way.
Sunday was a quiet day. We woke up late and went for breakfast at an almost 24 hour restaurant near Fiona's. The food was good, and when I made my selection and asked the waiter if it continued meat, he confidently said "no". And then confidently came back 3 minutes later and said, "yes". So my next choice was a "yes", and the next, and then a firm "no". I no longer trust firm "no"s or bacon bits. In England, bacon bits are made of soya, so they can be enjoyed by pensioners, children, Muslims and Jewish folk alike. In Japan they are made of pig. And they had sprinkled pig all over my breakfast. And not having the vocabulary to argue (nor the motivation) I did my best to remove said animal, but have been feeling a bit piggy since.
Monday was my first visit to the local elementary school since before Christmas, and was a busy school day (yay!), but due to the weather (rain and poor visibility and ice) we didn't go to class in the evening. So I went to LeeJay's, she cooked dinner, and we watched her box set of the Golden Girls for, ooh, 3 hours. Yay! Top notch sarcasm and bitching. It felt like home...
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Whiteout!
Dig in kids ‘cause the snow’s coming thick and fast and I don’t have enough choc to get me through. It’s gonna get rough, it’s gonna get nasty, but these are the days we’re livin’ in. Or something. Yeah, it’s been snowing for 12 hours, and we have about 15 centimetres of snow. Might sound like a lot, but it’s half of what was expected. Although at one point this morning you couldn’t see out of the window for snow falling and it’s still going, so who knows what we’ll end up with. As long as Lawson’s stays open I really don’t care.
The weather has been quite random all week. Tuesday night was cold as usual, and when you go into the room for English Conversation class and someone whacks up the aircon to the highest setting you wonder why you haven’t got flu. Again. Wednesday was similar as we consoled ourselves from missing the second part of the most enjoyable dance classes yet, and Johanna made me tea.
Thursday was also a cold day, but the evening hotted up as Kathleen came to Katsuyama for tea with Christine, Johanna and I and we stuffed ourselves with whatever we could recognise off the menu, and with some stuff we couldn’t. And then we went to the Katsuyama shanty town style karaoke salon (where the walls are held together with gaffer tape and the roof is carefully balanced so as not to fall on passers by). The booze continued to flow, except for Kathleen who was driving, and we extended from our initial one hour slot to 2 (oops), but had a great time scaring the locals and shouting inappropriate phrases into the microphones, thinking that no-one outside of the paper and lint walls would hear us. Double oops.
On Friday I started collecting sponsorship money for the big bowling event on Saturday in aid of the Tsunami. My junior high school teachers were so generous, I was really impressed. And after school, Kathleen drove Christine and me to Okayama, from which point onwards I may as well have just handed out my pin number to all comers and said, “help yourselves” while leaving my card in the cash machine. I’m not quite sure where the money went, but it went… OK. I do have a vague notion. It went on food and lots of drink. Chad and I hit Kurashiki, but after we drank two bottles of potato sho-chu (Japanese vodka type drink) between us and about 6 gins each, we were a bit the worse for wear. So much so that I had no recollection of anything Chad said to me when he woke me at 9 am on Saturday, and when I went to read my emails at 10am, I found I’d lost the ability to read. And for some reason I was spinning and- oh dear, I have to get to the toilet…. You can imagine what followed. I went to bed and stayed till 1, at which time I began to feel almost alive. Almost. With my liver providing much needed central heating, I made my way to bowling wearing only a short sleeved polo-shirt. And once there I demonstrated my complete lack of ability to bowl. No change there then. But Abby and I won 3rd and 2nd prizes respectively for fund raising and then we all went for a curry and laughed a lot like they do at the end of old He-Man cartoons.
And we laughed even more when we realised we’d done it again. Our group has a slight reputation for not doing what all the other ALTs are doing, and not going to all the organised functions. So we decided we would. And we made up our minds to go to Club Jam. Only at 3000yen entry, LeeJay, RayVon, AbSlance and I wanted to get our money’s worth and rolled in at 10pm. And, oops, we rolled into the wrong club. Club Actron is next door to Club Jam (literally in the same basement) so we thought we could cross over (like the girl in the telly in Poltergeist). But they said no. And then we realised the music was probably better and that it was ironic in an Alanis Morissette way (ie not actually ironic, just unfortunate) that we’d missed everyone else again, but we laughed anyway like they do at the end of old Thundercats cartoons.
We met some very friendly Japanese gentlemen who told me I looked like “Tom Cruise” (not the first time this has happened, although this time it was a very dark club) and his friend tried to pull RayVon by typing a message on his mobile phone that said, “I am a big penis. You are my angel. Let’s make fun tonight.” RayVon didn’t make fun with him, although we applauded them for being brave enough to try and chat up western girls and then laughed a lot like they do at the end of old Scooby-Doo cartoons.
Sunday was another day spent half in bed, and then with a subdued journey home where tiredness caused us to laugh like they do at the end of EastEnders episodes (ie not at all, because they’re all miserable in EastEnders) we went our separate ways, to mentally prepare for school.
Monday was OK at school, three lessons, and then jazz dance in the evening. Which was better this week, because the soundtrack was Paula Abdul. Although I don’t think it will be again after the noise we made. But like the kids from Fame (ie badly dressed and lacking style) we tried. And we will try again tomorrow. Brave soldiers looking on. Or something…
The weather has been quite random all week. Tuesday night was cold as usual, and when you go into the room for English Conversation class and someone whacks up the aircon to the highest setting you wonder why you haven’t got flu. Again. Wednesday was similar as we consoled ourselves from missing the second part of the most enjoyable dance classes yet, and Johanna made me tea.
Thursday was also a cold day, but the evening hotted up as Kathleen came to Katsuyama for tea with Christine, Johanna and I and we stuffed ourselves with whatever we could recognise off the menu, and with some stuff we couldn’t. And then we went to the Katsuyama shanty town style karaoke salon (where the walls are held together with gaffer tape and the roof is carefully balanced so as not to fall on passers by). The booze continued to flow, except for Kathleen who was driving, and we extended from our initial one hour slot to 2 (oops), but had a great time scaring the locals and shouting inappropriate phrases into the microphones, thinking that no-one outside of the paper and lint walls would hear us. Double oops.
On Friday I started collecting sponsorship money for the big bowling event on Saturday in aid of the Tsunami. My junior high school teachers were so generous, I was really impressed. And after school, Kathleen drove Christine and me to Okayama, from which point onwards I may as well have just handed out my pin number to all comers and said, “help yourselves” while leaving my card in the cash machine. I’m not quite sure where the money went, but it went… OK. I do have a vague notion. It went on food and lots of drink. Chad and I hit Kurashiki, but after we drank two bottles of potato sho-chu (Japanese vodka type drink) between us and about 6 gins each, we were a bit the worse for wear. So much so that I had no recollection of anything Chad said to me when he woke me at 9 am on Saturday, and when I went to read my emails at 10am, I found I’d lost the ability to read. And for some reason I was spinning and- oh dear, I have to get to the toilet…. You can imagine what followed. I went to bed and stayed till 1, at which time I began to feel almost alive. Almost. With my liver providing much needed central heating, I made my way to bowling wearing only a short sleeved polo-shirt. And once there I demonstrated my complete lack of ability to bowl. No change there then. But Abby and I won 3rd and 2nd prizes respectively for fund raising and then we all went for a curry and laughed a lot like they do at the end of old He-Man cartoons.
And we laughed even more when we realised we’d done it again. Our group has a slight reputation for not doing what all the other ALTs are doing, and not going to all the organised functions. So we decided we would. And we made up our minds to go to Club Jam. Only at 3000yen entry, LeeJay, RayVon, AbSlance and I wanted to get our money’s worth and rolled in at 10pm. And, oops, we rolled into the wrong club. Club Actron is next door to Club Jam (literally in the same basement) so we thought we could cross over (like the girl in the telly in Poltergeist). But they said no. And then we realised the music was probably better and that it was ironic in an Alanis Morissette way (ie not actually ironic, just unfortunate) that we’d missed everyone else again, but we laughed anyway like they do at the end of old Thundercats cartoons.
We met some very friendly Japanese gentlemen who told me I looked like “Tom Cruise” (not the first time this has happened, although this time it was a very dark club) and his friend tried to pull RayVon by typing a message on his mobile phone that said, “I am a big penis. You are my angel. Let’s make fun tonight.” RayVon didn’t make fun with him, although we applauded them for being brave enough to try and chat up western girls and then laughed a lot like they do at the end of old Scooby-Doo cartoons.
Sunday was another day spent half in bed, and then with a subdued journey home where tiredness caused us to laugh like they do at the end of EastEnders episodes (ie not at all, because they’re all miserable in EastEnders) we went our separate ways, to mentally prepare for school.
Monday was OK at school, three lessons, and then jazz dance in the evening. Which was better this week, because the soundtrack was Paula Abdul. Although I don’t think it will be again after the noise we made. But like the kids from Fame (ie badly dressed and lacking style) we tried. And we will try again tomorrow. Brave soldiers looking on. Or something…
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