A little something to pass the time* *(in which I discuss perfect donuts, the Sega store, and my absence from the blogosphere)

I have recently discovered that Japan has perfected something I thought no man could: the donut.



I walk by the Mister Donuts franchise in Kanayama station at least two or three times a week, transferring from the JR train to the Nagoya subway line. And while it beckons me with its glowing orange and white sign, and the high pitched irasshaimasen of the shop girl, I don't always stop there. But hungry and tired this past week, I stopped on Monday and bought a donut.



It is then that I realized how perfect they are.



When the strawberry pink concoction featured above was consumed, my senses were instantly enamored as my brain quickly comprehended that Mister Donuts has fixed all the the flaws I always found in donuts. It is about two-thirds the size of an American donut, so I don't find myself forcibly shoving it down with heavy bites, nor feeling far too full afterwards. And the circular treat, as with most Japanese sweets, is just the right amount of sweetness. Not overly so, so that my teeth hurt and I feel almost sickened by the honeyed taste, but the perfect blend of sugar and cake. In the end, I was full and satiated without feeling gorged and overindulged, nor were teeth regretful of my sugar intake. In other words, it was the perfect donut.



After this almost spiritual encounter, I wanted to shout my experience from the rooftops; preach the good word of morning desserts exquisiteness to anyone who would listen! Who is there to revel in my discovery, to see it with fresh eyes so as to truly appreciate the testament to modern society I had uncovered? It is was then I realized how much I missed blogging.



My blog was not willfully abandoned, and unfortunately I only have the pithy excuse of a busy life and a touch of laziness to explain for it.



The last two months have been eventful ones. Teaching has gotten very busy as the year has gone into full swing, I've begun seeing someone quite seriously, experienced a large national holiday, as well as had my first taste of real tourism. All things considered, many things have happened.



So between being very happy, busy, and content, I have found it quite hard to just sit down and blog. Not that I haven't been writing. Truth be told, with the many experiences I've had in the past two months, as well as every day here in Japan, I have been writing blog posts. Several sit collecting theoretical dust on my hard drive, half-formed and partially composed, waiting to see the light of internet day.



But the crux is that my writing is something I take quite seriously. If it is not perfect or well composed, then I don't want to show it. So until now, I have not taken the time to polish my words to my own standards, and share them.



But this post is me turning over a new leaf. As I finally have a handle on managing friends, work, bills, and a relationship all at once in my new life, I will now work blogging back into it. This means more regular postings, and not only on long and important topics, but more trivial ones; the odd occurrences and fascinations that I find myself coming across every day here in Japan. And as you will see, Mister Donuts is really just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.



But to show I am truly committed to this, and this is not just empty words, I am proposing a self-imposed Blog-a-Day. For the next seven days, I will try to post all that I have written over the last two months, in daily installments. What will you see? Travelogues of my first big trip to Nara; my experiences, both good and bad, of being a foreigner in Japan; feminism in a country that never had a feminist movement; the high, lows, and absurdities of Japanese Television; summer barbecues, watermelon squashing, and Nagashima SpaLand; and the lack of religiosity in Japan coupled with my flirtation with Quantum Physics.



Excited?



I hope so, because looking at that lofty and absurd listing, I am ready to write them with a few surprises in between. Because, even though it is beginning to sound trite I say it so often, every day life here still holds mystery for me. Today, for example, I took my first trip to a mall in Japan. Though the shopping, food, and company made it a lovely day off, it was the Sega store that was the true highlight.



To truly appreciate such a place, take the images of the best arcades you've ever gone into, mentally mash them together, and multiply that by five. That may begin to touch how amazing this store is.



I say store, but really its a giant arcade. But it does not have the usual games. As expected of Japan, the video games are superb and nearly unbelievable. There is huge 3D shooting games, life size MarioKart, virtual goldfish catching in which you see them actually swimming in a mock digital tank, huge crane games which retrieve large packages of food and digital items, as well as a ball shaped capsule containing a giant robot game whose screen in the entire surface of the bubble. Based on the Gundam franchise, the effect is that you move the levers and pedals while feeling as if you are in a circular pod on top of a giant robot that you maneuver. The effect of realism is awe inspiring and slightly unnerving.



Though we loved the games (particularly the pogo stick race game filled with cutesy creatures racing through cherry blossoms which simulates actually being on a pogo stick; Shannon took first, I a very close second), the true highlight of the arcade is the cars you can build yourself and drive around a track within the store. I think that statement should be mulled over a moment. Cars you build yourself and then drive. About the size of power wheels or small go karts, it starts with a simple base in which you build the rest from LEGO blocks the size of large shoe boxes. As if giant LEGOs weren't amazing enough (as well as to make you feel as if you were in a scene the 1989 Rick Moranis classic, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids), you then drive your giant LEGO car around the store.



All in all, an amazing if not really weird experience right in my backyard.



And this, as well as so much more, I want to share with you. So here is to my proposed Blog-A-Day, the amazing absurdity of Japan, and the love I have for writing it all down.



I leave you now with a photo which perfectly represents what I have been doing the last two months, the beautiful kids I teach, and the fun of the job I have been fortunate enough to get to allow me to come and experience everything here.

Because When the Sakura Comes Out, The Inhibitions Leave

I have not updated in some time because life, fortunately enough, has kept me far too busy. The new school year has began, so I’ve been learning the routes, getting to know my schools, meeting my students, all while trying to find time for fun in between.

But as I get more used to life in Japan, I found that these past few weeks, thought the busiest, have been some of my favorite so far. After about two months here, and one and a half months of full time working, I am finally feeling settled. And now that I have really set down roots and let them begin to grow, I feel like I can really enjoy lots of the little things that are around me.

For whenever moving to a new place, everything inundates you all at once. Everything is bright and new, so you scramble to find places to go, various things that need to be set up, and items need to be found to make it feel more like a home. And now, as I slip into a daily routine, I find I actually sit back and appreciate the small things around me. In the last two weeks I have gotten my schedule for next year, set an actual date for internet installation (April 21st), and settled all bills and bank accounts in Japan. I am here, and now to stay.

But with that all done, I’m over the mass deluge of information and experiences that had been my first two months in Japan. Now I’m onto taking in things one at a time, and as the season changes to spring, oh boy have I had a few firsts. It’s the rebirth of the year, and I’ve had several first experiences that have left me equally amused and awed.

Spring, in history, has come to celebrate rebirth and fertility. And in a country like Japan, what better way to celebrate such a time than with a whole festival dedicated to fertility. It is another thing to add to my list of inconsistencies about Japan; the melding of old and new. Because can anyone else think of a modern industrialized nation that still has ancient Shinto fertility festivals? I sure as hell can’t. But in the town of Komaki, at the Tagata Jinja shrine, the Hounen Matsuri festival is alive and well.

As I mentioned, the festival technically celebrates fertility, but it is the way in which it is celebrated that drew our attention. It is the usual fare of too much food and drink, traditional music, and overpriced trinkets, but with the staggering addition of an 8 foot carved wooden phallus that is paraded down the street.

I think that should be repeated. An 8 foot male sex organ.

If it sounds unbelievable, they you only feel about a third of the shock I did upon seeing it. Hearing of such an event, I knew I had to attend what we gaijin affectionately call the Penis Festival.

We were warned before we left that there would be only two types of people there: old people celebrating the religion, and drunk foreigners there to see a huge wooden penis. And this prediction turned out to be true. But even though it was half foreigners, the penis festival was definitely one of the most surreal experiences I’ve had in my life. The Japanese are a very subdued, reserved people. They may have wild signs and clothing, but the people themselves are quiet and shy, and as compared to westerners, don’t try to stand out above the rest. And yet, at the same time, no western country could even fathom having something as insane as a celebration of penises.

Leaving Nagoya station with about 40 other people I work with, we set out trying to imagine what to expect, and ended up being completely bowled over by the reality of it. As I left the train station in Komaki and came upon the shrine, I was immediately inundated by penis lollipops, penis picture stands, penis souvenirs, and phallic shaped food items. Giant carved penises were set up around the fair grounds as children ran around with bright pink penis lollipops in their mouths. It left me half blushing and half awed, but entirely amused. Through an odd mix of uneasiness and pure amusement, the foreigners I was with couldn’t help but crack jokes the whole time. I spent a few happy hours on the shrine grounds, enjoying the festival food, annoying the Shinto priests, and buying inappropriate souvenirs, but by the time I was just getting tired of it, the main event began. And what an event it was.

A long procession of priests and local officials, all in ceremonial garb, paraded by with various religious items on wooden portable shrines as well as flags painted with uncomfortably realistic phalluses. And then the center of the festival itself arrived in all its glory. Upon its appearance, everyone I was with was felt the repressed Puritanical western tradition ingrained inside of us stir to life, and immediately degraded into giggling 6 year olds. Though we are all in our twenties, we felt like naughty children; doing something we knew was wrong, and both thrilled and frightened by the possibility that we’ll be caught in the act. But our own reactions, coupled with the Japanese’s complete lack of one, made the situation, as well as the entire day, absolutely surreal to me.

But special events such as fertility festivals aside, I have been working so steadily that most of my firsts have been smaller things done on my infrequent days off. I traveled to Inuyama to see the oldest castle in Japan. Going with absolutely no plan, we wandered till we found the castle, which was beautiful in its austerity. And though it was absolutely frightening climbing to the top with the steepest, ricketiest stairs known to man, it was completely worth it for two reasons. One, the fact that they made me take my shoes off before I went inside (which is the equivalent in America of going into a museum with no shoes on), and two, I got a gorgeous view of the mountains that Japan is famous for.

I also took my first trip to a famous rotary sushi place, Kappa Sushi, where you sit at a table while various sushi and sashimi whiz by you as everyone does their best to eat as much as possible. And speaking of food, I have discovered an unknown passion for Japanese food. Takoyaki and okonomiyaki may be some of the best things I’ve ever put into my mouth, and the cheap eats at Izukaya, especially the Tabasaki Nagoya is known for, is always worth the price. Even on my birthday, I got a birthday cake from two Japanese friends that may be one of the best bought cakes I‘ve ever encountered. There is a subtle sweetness to cakes and other desserts here that I find I prefer to the over sugared concoctions that many places in America have.

And though the night before my birthday was spent with friends out and about in Nagoya, then till the wee hours at my apartment, my actual birthday was spent more relaxed. It was a vary warm and sunny afternoon, so I woke up late, strolled downtown to meet up with some friends, and on a whim headed out to Gifu to take in the mountains and nature there. Though we attempted to make it to a hot springs, keeping with the theme of relaxation, we never quite made it. Instead we ended up going to Gifu Park, which is a huge cluster of mountains at the edge of the city with a castle on top. The park itself is beautiful, but we took the ropeway all the way to the top to get the Panoramic View of Gifu and the encircling mountain ranges. It was near twilight, so the orange sun lit up the uneven rooftops of the surrounding city and winding river in a subtle color display. With that shining in our eyes, the mountains then stretched out nearly endless around us, their edges growing hazy and ill defined in the mist the further out they went. The beauty of it left me so breathless that we sat quietly at the top of the mountain, gently soaking it in as the sakura fell around us.

But sakura brings me to my now favorite part of Spring: hanami. Hanami is the name of the traditional cherry blossom viewing party, which consists of lanterns, fireworks, picnic spreads, music, dancing, and that staple of every Japanese celebration: alcohol. But despite the Japanese’s deep desire to try to make everything cutesy and neon, the cherry blossoms is the one thing they could not really taint with such trappings. I went out to Okazaki where a woman I work with lives, about 30 minutes from Nagoya. The town has a beautiful old castle set on a hillside, large stone bridges, and cherry blossoms that spread out and line the Yahagi River. And regardless of the Japanese’s grandest effort to saccharine-soak the Okazaki Festival into tackiness, the austerity and simple beauty of Okazaki and the Cherry Blossoms themselves thwarted their best efforts.

Setting up just on the edge of the castle grounds, we laid our blanket out next to a large arching bridge strung with softly lit red lanterns. Underneath a particularly beautiful tree with Okazaki castle rising just before us, we enjoyed an early dinner of festival food and convenience store snacks. And as the sun set and the sky grew dark, lights strung through the trees came to life. Strands of traditional music floating down from the castle, the melding lights of the lanterns, trees, and colored booths around us, with food and drink warming us from the inside, it was one of those moments that could only be described as perfect. Maybe its because it was my first hanami, maybe its because traditional Japanese things still charm me, or maybe it is because hanami is the simple and artless Japan that reveals itself with such rarity, but it really was everything that I expected it to be and more.

So though this is beginning to sound like a love note to Japan, I do now understand why everyone says spring is the best season here. And even if its because of the natural beauty of the new season, or the excitement of a new chapter in my life, I have found enjoyment out of every new endeavor I’ve been fortunate to come upon.

And what more could a girl ask for.

If Seven Maids with Seven Mops Swept It for Half a Year

Front to Back
(or Lewis Carroll is my Homeboy)
by Kate Trafecante

’Twas told twice, and to no avail, again,
“Glitters is not Gold” and “Kettles are Black,”
The wisdom of old and aged men,
But I live not Front to Back. I choose to wander life Inverse
And follow not the common path;
So that same wisdom, in Reverse,
And, in my mind, holds true to that
The Storm Comes Always Afore the Calm,
Nine Stitches in Time Saves Only One,
Good Ends Must Come to Things,
And One of These Days is Never None.

For I am a Reverse Commuter,
I walk not Front to Back.
I travel away while you come near,
Taking pride in the sense I lack.
Most wander through the railways,
On steel girders to metropolis they ride;
Yet a beamish smile I flash as I fly past
On towards the eager countryside.
Mountains are my serious skyscrapers,
Empty fields the crowded streets I roam,
And while the busy bees swarm in groups
I work out in the honey combs alone.

But “Lo!” You say, “There are those that
Live their life, also, not Front to Back!
They spend their existence all by night
And work from first darkness till first light!”
So I take my mantra one yard further
And not just wander backwards and daft;
Though I live in true Reverse,
I also live by one true half!
So if night watchmen live in opposite time,
And most people live by day,
I live by halves and halves:
Half night, and then half day.
Where as your day begins at 8, and the watchman 8 at night,
Mine begins at half past three until half past night.

So when you see me walking backwards
(For I never go Front to Back)
And greeting you good morning
When half the afternoon is past,
Or speaking of Words that Hurt,
And Immunity of Sticks and Stones
Do not raise your eyebrows,
And ignore my jovial tones!
For I just live in Reverse, by half,
And if my arithmetic stands true,
Means that no matter our dispositions,
Is twice around half the life of you.


And now, the explanation:

I realized today that I am a reverse commuter, and quite possibly, absolutely insane.

Now reverse commuter is not a real term by ay means, because I just made it up. But nonetheless, I believe it sums up my life perfectly. Most people live in suburbs and commute to cities because, logically and financially, such a path makes sense. Yet I, on the other hand, do the extremely illogical thing of living in the city and commuting out to the sticks.

But though lacking all recognizable sense, it does allow me to see the mountains and rice fields I have been missing while in the city proper. So traveling back on the train today, the city lights in front of me, I pondered my ridiculous schedule. Which then led me to realize that my day is also spent in awkward halves. I start my day mid afternoon and end about 9:30 at night, cleaving my day into thirds, or quarters, or some other odd division that, no matter what it really is, gives me a weird schedule. And as I sat on the train, scribbling down about my life in reverse, lived by half, it sounded more and more like a Lewis Carroll poem.

So as the commute dragged on, I actually started to write such a poem. Because really, it was such a boring commute, and nonsense poetry is amazing and hilarious. So a few proverbs, allusions to Carroll, and wordplay later, by the time I pulled into Nagoya station, I had the rough work you see above.

I also realized I must be certifiably insane.

So as weird as it was to start with my feeble scribblings, and to not have you think I was crazy as I think I am, I actually tried to put the explanation before the poem. But put in the order, I felt the words lacked the original punch and nonsensical flow I was going for when explained ahead of time. And I had so much fun writing such a stupid thing that I actually took a step back from the situation a few times just to laugh at what was coming out of my pen.

And thought I am no Charles Dodgson, this was my lame, if enjoyable, attempt at a Carroll-esque poem to describe my crazy schedule these days.

I blame the canned coffee.

Art for Art's Sake

So preparing a lesson the other day, I came across the idiom Art for Art’s Sake. I was supposed to be planning on how to explain such a phrase to a non English speaker, but it only made my mind wander to art. Being inclined as I am, I realized I haven’t really talked much about the art here. This is something that needed to be rectified.

Japan is the biggest mix of the beautiful and the garish I have ever seen. There is the austere beauty of temples and gardens, and yet overly loud and gaudy resonances in the signs, music, and fashions. Its this clash of old and new that makes everything so fascinating, but there is no doubt that no matter what, Japan has a highly visual culture. Whether it be traditional or pop art, it constantly surrounds you.

It really hit me this last Sunday as I spent the day walking around Nagoya. We have had a stretch of rain, but that day had perfect weather, with a sunny blue sky and unseasonably warm weather. I threw on my light trench coat, grabbed my ipod, and walked. It actually turned into the perfect Sunday, for apparently Sunday is the day to walk around Nagoya.

As I wandered to meet some people in Osu Kannon, a neighborhood south of my own, I let the music on my ipod wash over me. I find that when I walk through the city streets by myself, especially when listening to music, I become much more observant to things around me. I start to pick up on the little things that I pass over every time. It was in this way that I finally realized the subtle beauty of some of the daily things in Nagoya.

My street, being as busy as it is, is a bevy of bright lights and restaurants. But there are tiny pockets along the way that stand as a stark contrast to the overpowering brightness of such things; small, beautiful places that are easily ignored unless you are really looking. For example, there is a Buddhist temple on my street. In between the large buildings, convenience stores, and gas stations, there stands a beautiful old temple that is easy to miss unless one is looking. It is not very large, but it is everything one would expect a temple to be, with arching gates, peaked roofs, and a giant brass bell. Its absolutely breathtaking in its Zen-like austerity.

But there are even smaller touches that can be ignored. My neighborhood is very residential, and mixed within the newer houses and apartment buildings there pops up every once in awhile a very traditional home. It still retains the Japanese style roof, wooden frames with sliding doors that open onto tatami mats, and gated entrances. They look exactly like they may have 400 years ago, with none of the modern trappings of everything else around them. I find myself caught off guard and entranced every time I happen upon one. But as beautiful as they are, I find my personal favorite are the manhole covers.

The Japanese like to turn everything, from writing to clothing to advertising, into an art form. And for me, the manhole covers have been one of the most delightful surprises. I have actually taken to taking pictures of new ones I find, for there are quite a few around Nagoya. I think my personal favorite is the one of Nagoya castle, which is in and of itself a beautiful sight to see. But here are a few prime examples:

And these are the beautiful things that are tramped on and maybe taken for granted by most people here, except when seen through the eyes of a foreigner. But the wild stuff can be beautiful in its own right, if not fascinating in its ridiculousness.

So I commented before about three O’s: Outrageous Street Acts, Over-the-Top People, and Overwhelming Shopping Centers. Though they can be found separately all over the city, there are a few places they can be found all together in an trifecta of tremendous garishness. One of these is the Asunal Shopping Center in Kanayama. I happen to work nearby, and the entrance to the subway is smack dab in the middle of the shopping center. Now I have mentioned shopping before, and what an experience it can be, but I feel I should paint the picture of Asunal in a more specific manner.

I leave work right before dinner time, dressed conservatively and mentally unwinding from the day. And as I begin to relax, my tired mind is suddenly inundated by a loud open shopping center with bright, shining lights and lots of people. The people themselves, then, range from normal to over-the-top, with the over-the-top taking the spotlight. They are young Japanese people with dyed hair, styled to gravity-defying proportions, held up with gel and possibly magic to break the laws of physics as they do. Some go ultra blond and tan to look “western,” with both sexes going with large, bouffant hair. But whether blond and tan or not, the clothing ranges from stylishly ripped, loud, tight clothing, to “hip hop” style with velour track suits and rude, grammatically incorrect English phrases, to bastardized interpretations of 1950s American style, complete with leather pants and poodle skirts. But no matter what subsection these youths belong to, they are all like walking pieces of pop art, with everything being loud and bright and highly stylized.

And as if this wasn’t already a feast for the eyes, then the music wafts in. Asunal Shopping Center has an Asunal Live! Stage where various musical acts and idols perform. Every time I walk out, I am greeted by another J-pop concoction. Infectiously catchy in its mass-marketed way, I can’t help but stop and listen for a moment, if not just to laugh with a few other teachers as we marvel at their clothes and carefully manufactured siren song. I love when the young female idols sing one simple song, and then are surrounded for 40 minutes by adoring fans of awkward youths and middle aged men. But as hilarious an interaction that is to watch, my personal favorite so far were the J-Soul Brothers. A group of 7 Japanese male idols, they are a carefully constructed group where two of them actually sing, five just kinda sway in the background looking cute, and their music is anything but soul.

But if all that makes up Asunal is amusing, these factors were only intensified in Osu on this past Sunday afternoon. After my contemplative walk, I met up with a few people in Sakae and headed towards Osu. After walking through the beautiful Osu Kannon temple, we were then greeted by bright lights and painted walls to welcome us to Osu Shopping center, an open air shopping center that spans many blocks. And though I had been freely talking and laughing up until a moment before, after I entered the shopping districts, everyone I was with spent half the time in an almost awe-struck silence. Lured by the smell of takoyaki, the noise of people, and brightly colored shops, we poor gaijin were struck into silence by it all coming at us at once. And when we left, back out into the safety of the temple, we were nearly breathless from the experience.

But as I sat in the temple square and listened to the chanting monks from inside, I couldn’t help but be equally struck by the opposite and yet equally fascinating beauty that is Osu Kannon. A large temple, and one of the oldest in Japan, with grand architecture and Zen gardens, a perfect example of the beauty of traditional Japan, sits in conjecture and on the same grounds of an overwhelming shopping center, the bright lights, people, and signs that represent all that is modern Japan. They should be complete opposites, and yet they share the same space in almost blissful harmony. It is one of the many things that I absolutely love about this country, finding equal beauty in the old and the new. For only in Japan would such a place exist.

Multibabel

So I’m in the middle of an internet drought, and I think I’m dying from it.

It seems that, on average, it takes at least two months to get internet set up in Japan. I have been without it for about one month, and I can‘t even comprehend one more month like this. My cell phone has become somewhat of substitute, albeit a poor one, but it only keeps me loosely connected. But beyond that, I never truly realized how much I relied on it for entertainment until I have been without it for a extensive amount of time. So for that reason, I have found a considerable lack of things for me to do in my apartment when I get home from work. I have tried Japanese television, which despite being unintentionally hilarious, can get old after awhile. Then I tried DVDs, but a limited supply keeps me restricted. So now as I stumble in from work, I long for some form of entertainment as I cook dinner. But worst of all, the lack of fast internet in and of itself is an inconsistency for me. A country that has such advanced technology and internet, even going so far as to get television on the cheapest of cell phones, can’t get me a decent internet connection in a short amount of time.

But such a situation may in fact be a blessing in disguise. It’s impossible to blog and email as much as I would like, and I have no stupid TV during dinner, but I also find I try to entertain myself with much more fulfilling pursuits on my days off. Instead of sitting on my bed all day glued to a glowing screen, I am up and out of my apartment exploring. And in Nagoya, there is always something ridiculous and fascinating going on.

In a nutshell, when I’m out in Nagoya, I find myself constantly bombarded by three O’s: Outrageous Street Acts, Over-the-Top People, and Overwhelming Shopping Centers. And it would be easy to think that one would fade into the background against such situations, but gaijin in Nagoya are still enough of a novelty that I don’t. In fact, in some situations, I feel like I stand out, and are made to be somewhat of an ambassador of the Western world. Whether it be the young child who shyly turns towards his mother because I don’t look like any one he’s ever seen before, or the izukaya owner who speaks no English and yet greets us warmly with a bit of an awestruck smile, one cant help but remember that you are a minority here. I guess that over time it can get old, but for now I’m still somewhat pleasantly amused by it.

When I think of it, the term multibabel comes to mind; how nuances of meaning are lost in translation, but the general message remains the same. And in truth, I feel that’s what I have been experiencing. Things that are similar enough to connect us, and yet different enough to keep it interesting.

For example, I was out last weekend with a few people at a local western style bar. It draws an even crowd of foreigners and Japanese, and therefore is a cool place to go. Somehow, through happenstance, my group ended up trying to sit at the same table as a few Japanese men. After a few polite laughs and nervous shuffling, somehow we ended up sharing the table with them. Now one person in our group spoke poor Japanese, and one in their group spoke poor English, and yet somehow we spent the whole night together. We discussed, through gesture and broken language, topics varying from drinking to hanami to the Wutang clan (the rappers, not the martial artists), but half of the time our conversations broke into the international reaction to a language barrier: raised eyebrows and lots of laughter.

But then someone, by stroke of genius or dumb luck, brought up baseball. It was like all floodgates broke away. It didn’t matter that none of us really fully understood each other; we all understood baseball. A full ten minute conversation without a peep of incredulous laughter then erupted; we discussed the Nagoya Dragons as they shouted out famous Japanese players in the Major Leagues. Though it eventually degraded into screaming “Matsui” and then responding with cheering, it was an absolutely hilarious moment as it was going on.

And truthfully, since then I’ve discussed baseball several other times, and was even informed of all the differences between the American and Japanese baseball leagues by one student of mine. But there are a few other interesting cross cultural experiences I’ve had. Like the fact that Denny’s is everywhere in Japan and apparently way more delicious than the greasy grossness that is Denny’s in the states. I would even go as so far to call it amazing. Or even better, I have finally experienced Karaoke as it was meant to be.

On the day we signed our contracts, my training group decided to celebrate in one the most Japanese ways we could imagine. So that night, we wandered Sakae, found a huge JoyJoy karaoke in the downtown area, and rented ourselves a nice big room. And let me tell you, I finally understand the obsession.
You walk into the brightly colored building and pay a flat rate. This gets you a private room for karaoke, free drinks the entire time, and an endless amount of bad 80s rock ballads to keep the night going. Sitting in the dark karaoke room, surrounded by TV screens, tambourines, and drinks, you cant help but belt out every bad song that comes up on the screen. With an extensive list of English songs, it was like a catalogue of songs drunk white people like to sing. I swear, I have never sung so much Queen in my life. (Which I would like to have my Aunt know had the largest collection of songs of any band in the English language section, and I have heard them many a time in bars and department stores. She was right about how popular they were here.)

So as I go out and explore Japan, the biggest cross cultural experience of all is the one I undergo every day: my job.

Work is something I have been asked a few times to blog about, but in truth, it’s the only thing I haven’t really wanted to write about. It’s something that I experience every day; something that takes up so much of my time and thoughts, that in my free time, I want to think about other things. What Japan is like to live in, and what happens when I’m outside of the realm of teaching. Though there is one thing I will say for certain: I love this job.

I feel like I am being paid way too much to talk to people and play with kids. Of course they’re learning English, and I do structured lessons, but I try to make it fun enough for all my classes that it sometimes doesn’t feel like work. And yet at the same time I feel a certain pride in being a teacher, that I am helping someone else to learn something new. This realization was quite shocking for me, actually, and filled me with great respect for people who choose to be educators. The time flies effortlessly as I am wrapped up in teaching the nuances of the English language, and then I get home at the end of the day and am utterly drained from the output I had to put out.

Kids classes are phenomenal, and have become some of my favorite lessons to teach. They require the most prepartaion and energy, but I love rolling around with kids being stupid, so the work I put in seem entirely worth it. And on the whole, Japanese students are some of the most well-behaved and good natured kids I’ve ever met. Of course, generalizations are never true, and I’ve had a few kids classes with five 7-year-old boys who just want to wrestle and throw cushions at each other. But they are normal kids, and if the class degrades into that, I can always corral them by chasing them around the room a little and wearing them out. And the adults? Some of them are such interesting people with enough of a grasp of the English language to make for really entertaining discussions. Of course not every student designs robots or travels across most of southeast Asia, but if you can find a topic they are really interested in, they can go on about it for a long time, English skills be damned. They also ask questions about the intricacies of English that I myself never really considered. When I get a really thoughtful one, I feel like I’m learning a little more about English myself. I’ve never thought of all the subtle differences of my mother tongue, and I am constantly impressed by the insightful people who study English.

In fact, their drive and constant embarrassment at not speaking English well has really driven me to learn Japanese. When they apologize for messing up a sentence, I try to remind them that they speak English infinitely better than I do Japanese. It is a certain mentality that many English speakers have, unfortunately, that everyone should speak English around the world. But I get almost embarrassed that I know next to nothing of the language of Japan. So in my free time, I have been studying Japanese with a passion. I sit for about an hour each night and review my Japanese or do a few lessons on my Japanese program. And truth be told, I study for the fun of it, if not just the necessity. Japanese is infinitely simpler and at the same time much harder than English. And though speaking is difficult in and of itself, it is a masterable task. Reading and writing, on the other hand, are infinitely harder.

If you are not familiar with Japanese writing at all, there are two main alphabets. Kanji is the very difficult one with thousands of characters, and really, you must study for years to master. You need to know about 2,000 just to read the newspaper. The Kana, hiragana and katakana, conversely, only have about 60 characters total and are much easier to learn. This is the writing that is used on menus and signs and in most daily usage, and the one children learn before they move on to the more difficult kanji. It’s a phonetic alphabet used for Japanese words and loan words, and each character represents a sound in the word. So where as my street, Kurumamichi, only has two Kanji to represent it, in the Kana there are 5 characters, one for each sound (Ku-ru-ma-mi-chi). And that, my friends, is a simplistic and very short explanation of the very confusing writing system that surrounds me daily. Between the two, the Kana alphabets are much simpler and much more useful. I will never be able to read a book with Kana, but I will be ok with menus and food packages, so it is the writing I have been working on mastering.

Between the writing section on my Japanese lessons and workbooks I have purchased (Let’s Have fun with Kana! I’m serious, that is the title), I have been working on learning a few characters each day. And in truth, I’ve really enjoyed it. This last Saturday, as I got home really late from my shift, instead of going out, I stayed in and practiced my Kana for a few hours. And seriously, I had fun doing it. There is something so artistic about the characters that I feel more like I’m drawing then writing when I practice. At this point I only recognize a few characters in a long string, but when I do? Its very exciting.

For example, one of the first few words I learned was otokonoko, which means boy in Japanese. The kana are separated as o-to-ko-no-ko. The first time I read just the Kana and recognized the corresponding sounds and words? I was left exhilarated by the fact that I comprehended these foreign symbols. It must have been the same as when I was a child and realized for the first time that I could read things around me. And written out, the characters are almost like art. It was a thrilling experience, and the main reason I have really buckled down and started to study.

So now that I’ve sufficiently bored everyone with the intricacies of the Japanese writing system, this all goes back to my respect for the Japanese I am teaching and the fascination I have for the differences and similarities between them and ourselves. So I leave you with an interesting anecdote the illustrates this fascinating cultural exchange.

My first day teaching, I had a two hour lesson with a really low level English student. He was very driven, but the first hour completely dragged as I tried to get through a structured lesson and watched him struggle on the grammar. Being that it was a lesson designed for at least three students, my heart went out as he tried to do it, and I helped him as much as possible by breaking up the lesson with enthusiastic encouragement and trying to engage him in side topics. But even with this, at the end of the hour, we both were utterly drained.

Dreading another lesson, I returned after ten minutes with one in mind and steeled determination. But as he came back from the break, he simply sat down and placed in my hand his open diving license. Intrigued, I asked him about it, and his eyes lit up. Even though his English was very poor, using gestures, broken English, and lots of pictures on the white board, he painted a portrait to me of his many extreme sport adventures. It didn’t matter that we didn’t speak the same language, I spent an amazing hour with a really interesting person telling me all about his intense ski trips in Hokkaido where he hiked up the mountain before skiing down, and showing me photos of sharks and fish from scuba diving trips in Bali and Tahiti.

So no matter the differences, the seemingly insurmountable language barriers, we can always find a way to communicate to understand each other. So if you’re ever in Japan, don’t worry about being understood, because somehow you will make it work.

Or worse comes to worse, you could always bring up baseball.

Where can I watch a Cockfight?

..and other equally useless phrases in Japanese.

Though I am quite glad to have my phase book here, I am constantly astounded by some of the phrases that are put in there, as if they are really applicable to daily life or travel. Yes, there are the standards of directions and “where is there an internet café?,” but some that Frommer’s felt necessary to put in are absolutely ridiculous. For example, there’s a whole section devoted to “getting to know someone” which is a cover for cheesy pick up lines. Like, “You dance so well” and “You have such beautiful eyes” as well as, my personal favorite, “You look like the most interesting person in the room.” Ugh I can just picture the eyebrow wags and tawdry smiles that would accompany those gems.

But with that discovery on the plane, such began my flirtation with the Japanese Language.

Now I began using the Rosetta Stone program in the states, which I have continued here, which really helped me with prounuciation and understanding of sentence structure, if not learning mainly useless vocabulary. But that, combined with the smattering of grammar explanations, the why and wherefores of object particles, and (mostly) useful phrases from my Frommer‘s Book, I’ve garnered enough Japanese to at least find the subway. But more importantly, it helped with two of my favorite activities: shopping, and eating.

I already said I would say something about the shopping, specifically the 100 Yen store, and it is definitely something that garners notice. I had heard Japan was a consumer society, but I wasn’t prepared for how pithy that statement is in comparison to reality. Consumers ARE the society. Stores are everywhere, and Sakae, the Mecca of shopping in Nagoya, is almost overwhelming. Actually, scratch that, it is overwhelming. The whole of Sakae has a massive undeground mall that covers many miles below the city streets. Big department stores, like Mitsukoshi and Melsa, are giant sky scrapers of buildings in the center of town; multiple floors devoted to clothes, jewelry, and electronics. And unlike electronic stores in America, which can seem a little loud, this is a flurry of noise and lights, where every CD is being played by every speaker, and a different anime, movie, or video game is on every screen. Its loud, obnoxious, and, to be honest, kind of awe inspiring. First time I was traveling the stores it was early Tuesday afternoon, not a time I’d expect to be busy. And then I traveled to the basement levels.

This is where, in Japanese department stores, they sell food, at least where I went. Though not loud in the way electronics department is, it is a different and special kind of loud. It is the deafening noise of people. Unless its drinking hours, the Japanese are a generally quiet people. Yet in this section? I was overtaken by the noise and power of the shoppers; little obaa-san pushing past me with no regard as they scoop up every type of food imaginable. Hawkers scream to me, pushing chocolates and sample onigiri on me. Now I’m a generally unruffled person when it comes to noise and busy areas, but without a doubt, I had a deer in headlights look when I entered there. After a few minutes we then rather quickly, and at a near run, escaped from this overwhelming shopping experience. I still feel rattled thinking about it.

But the prize in all this is, the top of the shopping heap, is the 100 yen store. In the 7th Floor of Melsa, there is a magical place where you can get anything imaginable for about one American dollar. And this, my friends, is the 100 yen store.

And really, only a picture collage of some of the items bought would do such place justice.

My snail magnets, sickeningly cute in their own way

This awesome kitchen knife, with my nails to match.

This cutting board, also sickeningly cute.

Orange and green slippers, since I need to train myself not to wear shoes in other people’s homes.

This tea set, which really marks me as a gaijin.

And then, the pinnacle of my collection...

NINJA CHOPSTICKS

Which are apparently too awesome to ever be photographed clearly. Believe me, I tried multiple times.

But shopping aside, that leads me into the more important part of acquiring language. And that is, as every good Italian girl knows, eating.

I have been equally overwhelmed, but in a much better way, by the food so far. From the really good Japanese interpretation of foreign cuisine to real, traditional food, I have been enjoying everything immensely so far. My favorite are the little shops where you can get donburri bowl with rice, pickled vegetables, green tea, and other small concoctions for about 400 yen. You walk in, sit, are served at lightning speed, and yet still get a real cooked and unprocessed meal. It puts new meaning to the term fast food.

And though I spent the entire first week eating out and about in my neighbourhood, my favorite was probably the night I went to an Izakaya. It’s like the equivalent of a traditional Japanese pub, with real rustic touches, like a sliding door, numerous lanterns, and tatami mat seating in the back. Amelia and I traveled to one in Imaike, a neighbourhood near by, and found a random one down a side street. We were greeted exuberant exclamations and smiles, and chose to sit and the counter and watch them a foot away prepare our food. It was smoky, cramped, and absolutely fabulous. Since drinking it traditional, we ordered the local sake (watered down of course), and then went on to order an amazing amount of small dishes of fried tofu, fish, grilled meats, pickled and fried vegetables, and copious amounts of rice. Everyone was smiling and welcoming and we left a little tipsy, extremely full, and only 2000 yen lighter in our wallets.

But I can’t always eat out, so I also finally traveled down to my local supermarket. There are some thing easily recognizable, other things not so much, but I was still seduced by all the smells, choices, and amazing amounts of already made food. I ended up coming back after wandering the store for two hours with a full stock of groceries, a few ready made foods, like an interesting fried prawn and egg sandwich (which is way better than it sounds), and a desire to really learn how to make Japanese food.

So all in all, I love the shopping and the food, yet still are discovering new stores and food every time I wander out. And this is all thanks to my very limited Japanese skills.

And in case you were wondering, if you ever do want to find a fowl fight in Japan? All you need to ask is tookei wa doko de miru koto ga deki masu ka.

Just Like David Letterman, Only Not as Funny

So I finally have access to internet! For a country so technologically advanced, it was way harder than it should have been to finally post. But truth be told, my first few days here were so exhausting that it was more of an effort than not to try to find an internet source. Even with my new Japanese cell phone that does everything short of cure cancer, I haven't had reliable internet, and it may be another two weeks till I have it set up in my apartment. But now, right in Sakae, I found this phenomanal internet cafe and once again seem connected to the world.

So as I write, its been exactly five days since I’ve been here, though with jet lag and all I’ve had to do it seems much, much longer. The travel, in truth, was much more tiring and long than I anticipated. The initial flight was fine. I actually ended up sitting next to two older Filipino people who were unrelated, a man and a women, because after Nagoya the flight was going on to Manila. They were absolutely charming, told me way too much about their separate lives and grandchildren, excited me with stories about Japan, and ended up figuring out that the women went to high school in the Philippines with the man’s wife over 40 years ago. It felt way too much like the plot of an independent film, but I concluded that I love Filipinos.

But it was after the flight that it got exhausting, because I had been traveling for over 24 hours at that point when I needed my energy the most. Not only did I have to lug two bulky 50 pound bags behind me as well as two heavy carry-ons, but I had to do it while navigating several train and subway stations while trying to meet up with Patrick, the representative of my Leasing company. Even though it was nice to have a partner through all this, a lovely girl named Amelia, it left me utterly drained. I ended up arriving at my apartment at 10:30 that night, paid my leasing company my initial rent, and promptly passed out.

But after that the adventure began. The next day Amelia and I got a personal tour of the area by Patrick, and after that we took to exploring. Getting the business of registering with our ward office and buying cell phones out of the way, I have traveled much of my neighborhood and the downtown Sakae area (a fifteen minute walk) in the last few days. Sakae in and of itself is overwhelming to describe, if not just the massive stores and restaurants themselves, but I can leave you with a quick list of my first impressions of Nagoya. I will call it...

Kate’s List of Things She Finds Weirdly Fascinating

1. Trucks Talk to You

Along with everything else here. Vending machines, trains, photo booths, crosswalks, cell phones and countless other items all feel the need to talk to you here. They sing infectiously cheery songs and speak very polite sentences. In fact, one photo booth I used went on to tell me how great a job I was doing and to keep it up. We never get self-affirmative technology in the states. But the trucks, by far, are my favorite. Every time they turn a corner, a decidedly feminine and high pitched voice warns everyone of their approach. Somehow the high female Japanese voice seems at odds with the big hulking piece of machinery making a large turn.

2. In Japan, Women Don’t Feel the Cold

At least not in their legs. Now, it is February 8th. And though it is slightly warmer than home, its still cold. And yet I have seen countless women in short skirts and shorts with bare legs. If it was just a few, it could be called a fluke, but I have seen a large percentage of the female population of Nagoya walking around without stockings and legs bared to the February air. At least a few wear shorts with tights, but I can’t even fathom the number of people that would think to wear shorts at all in the winter. As a side note, I find the Japanese to be a very fashionable lot in general, but the shorts seem absurd to me.

3. Random Western Celebrity Product Placement

In America, Tommy Lee Jones would never think of be a spokes model for vending machine coffee. But in Japan apparently he has no such qualms. If I could count the number of big A-List celebrities I’ve seen already advertising soft drinks and snacks it would blow your mind. As interesting as it is to see people like Brad Pitt and Nicole Kidman plastered across bill boards, its also very funny. I guess they think it wont really leak to the West if they do it in Japan. But now because of me, their dirty secret is out.

4. Masks for Everyone!

So this is phenomena I was vaguely aware of, but it wasn’t until I got here that I realized the large number of people that actually wear them every day. Age and gender are indiscriminate in who wears it, and even people working in stores and restaurants wear them like its nothing. I’ve even seen a few commercials on television for specialized ones. I understand that its done as a measure to keep from being sick, but for some reason I find it very, very odd, like the pink elephant in the middle of the room no one says anything about. I know this is just me being a foreigner, but even I’m surprised by how odd I find the entire institution. Like, how are non mask wearers not offended by such things? Because, really, what that person is saying is that he doesn’t trust that everyone around him is healthy or clean enough to not get him sick. But politely of course, because this is Japan.

5. Random Landmarks

So cuteness and “Engrish” abound here. And since I can barely read any of the kana, and absolutely no kanji, I find myself using odd things as landmarks. And really, even if I could read the sign, who wouldn’t want to use such things as a landmark? Like the huge sign with the pink dog and dancing orange monkey. Or that one with the clown that vaguely looks like Ronald McDonald. Or, best of all, the sign that proudly states “Goo” and “King Jim.” What are these actual establishments? I haven’t the slightest, but their hilarious signs help me find my way home.

6. The 100 Yen Store

An establishment so amazing it deserves its own post, and believe me, this ain’t your mother’s dollar store. In one of the large department stores in Sakae, the entire 7th floor is a 100 Yen store, and let me say, I will never shop anywhere ever again. Amelia and I spent way too much time there, and I ended up furnishing my apartment, kitchen, and bathroom for about 18 American dollars.

But all in all, the people are absolutely lovely and polite, the city much more beautiful than I imagined, and I’m just adjusting to life here. There are bits that are odd or just downright weird, and I’m sure that there will be many more, but it all culminates to make this experience what it is. I feel like my time is always busy, and I haven’t even started working yet. But I look forward to the challenge.