A Baer in Ota

2011-09-11T13:45:00.004+09:00

I sit on the second floor of the Starbucks overlooking Shibuya crossing. The seating here is always closely coveted and hard to capture, especially on a night like tonight. I stare down at the people below, perpetually moving, the lights bright and flickering from all direction, the sounds muted by the glass but still present in my memory as I watch. I came sphere to watch, having arrived at Shibuya with no destination, just ache to SEE. After two years, I still feel blind and empty; I want more; to see more, to experience more, to fill myself full with memories. My eyes flicker toward every movement with a sort of desperate fascination. A peculiar longing fills me, a hunger I can never sate. I watch with a desire that just by watching I can soak it up through my skin, that the experience with permeate throughout me and thus, somehow, last...

I can't let it go, I can't leave, the hunger filling me still, still so unsated... and yet my fingers cannot grasp the threads of time, the red silk fabric of it slipping slowly through my fingers like kimono threads...

Even just writing this, I feel a little less empty... That even this is some proof of my existence here.

It's time to go.

Inside English Education

2011-05-24T20:51:00.004+09:00

For any of you wondering if I fell off the edge of the Earth: I'm still here! I have a few blogs on the back burner to finish up and post.

Meanwhile, I was just catching up on The Japan Times, when I found this article. It discusses how Japan, fallen way behind other countries in terms of English literacy, is slowly (tortoise and the hare slowly) attempting to make changes. It's pretty interesting to read if you are an ALT or a former ALT; in my experience, we ALTs have a pretty strong opinions about the current English system. You might find it interesting if you'd like to know a bit about my job, or at least, the debates that swirl around my job. For the rest of you who clicked that link, saw two pages of small print and quickly closed the window, let me summarize it in one perfect quote:

"The forthcoming system is not aimed at teaching children English themselves. Teachers will be required to nurture children's willingness to communicate in English. So, they will be able to teach English with the help of ALTs. If the teachers try hard to communicate with ALTs in English and demonstrate this to children, then their willingness to communicate will be nurtured."

So, basically, the idea is to encourage students to want to learn English, but not actually teach them anything remotely useful to learning English, like grammar, structure, reading, or writing. If you want a realistic idea of what this actually looks like in practice in the classroom (at least in elementary school), imagine this: an entire year of curriculum from two pages of one of those tiny pocket travel phrases books. In song. If you just drew a giant question mark in your head, then we're all on the same page.

I do like how in the article, they mention at least a few times how "we shouldn't blame the ALTs".

How magnanimous.

Cheers,

spectacle Baer

God of Kendo

2011-05-21T21:17:00.004+09:00

Yesterday was a lot of fun.

After school was over, I decided to make my rounds and visit the different club activities. I went looking for the art club, remembering last time how relaxed the eager to talk the students were outside of the classroom. Unfortunately, they either weren't meeting that day or had hidden themselves in some nook that I have yet to discover.

I peered down from the third floor balcony to watch the baseball and soccer clubs prepare for their workouts. The soccer boys had dragged the goals into the shade of the trees in attempt to make the heat a little more bearable, and I could see the baseball boys unloading under the shade of a big tree. I contemplated going down and making my presence known, but the dirt and heat of the playground were discouraging.

Instead, I went to the gym. I was surprised to see there were no basketball players. Instead, a thin net across the middle of the gym divided the badminton practice from the volleyball practice. There wasn't much for me to do there other than watch idly. I had been looking forward to talking to the new volleyball coach, one of the new teachers who has been very friendly with me since his arrival. Sadly, he was not there. I overheard one of the volleyball girls talking to another visitor, and I think she said that usually he doesn't come. Bah. Disappointing. I watched some students I know well practice serves and ball play. Practice is serious, however, and I am terrible at volleyball, so I didn't try to join in.

Oddly enough, I didn't particularly feel like visiting the kendo club, although it is my favorite. I used to visit often last year, and the captain always made me feel welcome. However, the new captain is very strict about training. Kendo, as a sport, is very serious, disciplined, and ritualized, and so too is the practice. Although I am very familiar and comfortable with the new captain, him being probably the best English student in the whole school, I got the feeling he didn't particularly like the distraction I posed; last time I watched, I heard him tell two of the kendo players not to talk to me while they waited for their turn to fight. I didn't take it personally; I know he just wanted them to retain their focus. However, I did feel guilty that I was responsible for depriving them of that focus in the first place; so, I haven't been back

Despite this, I decided it was silly to visit all the other clubs and not visit the kendo club too. A little peak couldn't hurt. When I entered the "dojo" (it's not actually a dojo - they laughed at me when I called it that - but I'm afraid I don't remember what it is called), I was surprised to see the room full of many students, all laughing and playing around with their shinai, practice swords. It was a very relaxed, playful atmosphere, and no one was wearing the heavy plastic/bamboo armor and uniform. I nearly bumped right into the captain as he was headed out the door with his back pack, clearly headed home. He saw me and sighed heavily, "I have to leave, and [then] Lindsay comes." I have to admit his disappointment pleased me; maybe I wasn't such a bothersome distraction after all.

After he left, the other members greeted me. I was surprised but very happy to see how many new members there were from the 1st year (7th grade) students. Unfortunately, their vocabulary is such that regular conversation is pretty much not possible; one of the boys likes English and talking to me very much, so, just to find something to say, he would come up to me and ask me to spell random words like "brown" and "fox". All the students are very friendly with me. Two of the girls are very silly and say strange things, so we always end up having the most entertaining conversations. Today, one of the girls said "I am God". With her hair uncharacteristically down and flowing around her shoulders, she actually did look like a painting of a Japanese god. I asked her what she was the god of, kendo? She said no, "all, all, all god". "Ah," I replied, well versed in the translation of 2nd year English, "You are THE God, huh? Well, then I will be the God of Kendo."

And so it was, more or less, that I ended up joining the kendo practice. A shinai ended up in my hands, and one of the girls showed me how to hold it. Then the captain's 2nd in command showed me how to place my feet. The captain's 2nd is a great kid with the wonderful but very rare quality of always using English in my presence, even if he's talking to someone else on the opposite end of the room. His English isn't very good (as one of the girls whispered to me), but he simply never gives up. Before "practice" began, he showed me how to swing the sword (from directly above your head, straight down), and place my feet. The club coach came in and laughed when he saw me, but was happy to indulge my interest. We got in a big circle and did stretches, everyone taking a turn counting each stretch. I, of course, counted in English; I do love how happy such a simple act makes the people around me.

After that, we started practice. It was a very basic practice; we did suburi, sword swinging practice. Basically, we just stood in a square and swung the sword in a specific way to the rhythm of the count, then changed the method of the swing and started again.

It was quite a workout for my arms! However, I really enjoyed it. I was also amused because members of other sports clubs would walk by the building, glance through the open floor windows/doors (no air conditioning, remember?), and suddenly stop in surprise, clustering around the opening and whisper, "Lindsay's doing kendo!"

Yes! Yes I was!

Afterward, quite in the spirit of the relaxed captain-free-semi-practice, they showed me how to play "Darumasan ga Koronda", which is similar to Red Light Green Light. If you remember from an earlier post, a Daruma doll is a round red doll with big eyes; it is weighted at the bottom so that if you nudge it, it rocks around in a circle instead of falling over. So, while "Darumasan ga Koronda" means "Daruma fell down", you have to imagine a ball rocking back and forth, gradually turning around until it's looking at you. To play, the "it" person (oni) hides their face against the wall on the opposite end of the room from everyone else and says "Darumasan ga KoronDA!" and turns around quickly on the "da". Everyone on the other side of the room sprints towards the "it" person as soon as they start speaking, but on the "da", they have to freeze in place; anyone that moves, loses. When someone manages to reach and touch the "it" person, everybody runs away until "it" says "STOP!" From there I didn't quite understand the rules; it seemed that a player gave the "it" person a certain number of steps they could take, and if they managed to reach and touch a player within those steps, that person became "it".

It was fun, but I lost interest pretty quickly after the second game. I like kendo better.

Cheers!

God of Kendo Baer

Time for a break - Spring Break, that is.

2011-03-24T22:19:00.004+09:00

The last few days I stopped reading the news. I am already exhausted of the suspense.

It was only through my family grapevine that I heard about Taylor Anderson, a JET in Miyagi, who marked the first US casualty. It's creepy to look at her photos; they are so like mine. While the disaster obviously had a much more devastating effect on the Japanese residence, I can't help but feel the most disturbed by her death; our places could have so easily been exchanged.

I am not as worried as was reflected in my previous post. I am still trying to stay mostly indoors and out of rain as much as possible. Mostly, I am concerned about food and water contamination. I threw out my lettuce after spinach was banned, but I eye the milk and cucumbers in my fridge and wonder if I shouldn't just do without vegetables for the next four months. I get updates from the Gunma JET community periodically, but I noticed that news from abroad is much more alarmist than that which is circling Japan. I've decided to stick to getting my news from The Japan Times, which I feel does a better job of staying on topic.

The Governor of Gunma gave a press release, which you might possibly find interesting.

Anyway... it is now the end of the school year. Tomorrow is closing ceremonies, marking the beginning of spring break.

I have never been so happy for spring break in my life.

Months ago, Chingyi and I made plans to spend spring break, 7 blissful days, in the Kansai regions, visiting Hiroshima, Osaka, and Nara. Now, quite by coincidence, that area just happens to be the safest possible place for us to be. This will be a fabulous vacation if only for the fact that, for 7 days, we don't have to even THINK about radiation, contamination, blackouts, or messed up train schedules. Honestly, I never thought that would be a motivator in my lifetime.

I wish we could stay for a month.

goin' south Baer

Umm... Can I go home now?

2011-03-15T13:54:00.009+09:00

I have to admit, I'm getting genuinely worried about the state of things here. I'm only getting the news in bits and pieces, but everything new I hear just makes me feel worse. This Friday, Akemi and I were supposed to go out to dinner together, but last night I got a text message from her that we couldn't go.

Me: Oh? Are you busy?
Akemi: No, it's the gas...
Me: Gas?
Akemi: ...oh, that's right, you can't listen to the news. The gas stations are running out of gas, and what gas they have, they won't sell.

I asked my teacher who lives in Midori City (30 minutes away), but she seems, for the moment, unconcerned about the gas shortage. There was apparently some report that gas was being brought over from Tokyo to fill the gap.

Today we had our first blackout. It didn't affect me at all because I had four classes in the morning, and worked right through the entire thing. Other than a little extra darkness in the classroom, things were normal. In the teacher's room, however, I heard that things pretty much came to a stand-still. One of my English teachers was kind enough to print me out a schedule of the intended blackout periods. I've already been doing my best to conserve energy; I sitting in the dark with nothing turned on except my computer.

I was pretty shocked when, after lunch, the Vice-Principal stood up to make an annoucement: he had just received word from the Board of Education that, due to fear of the radiation leak in Fukushima, all the students were being sent home. Radiation leak? What radiation leak? I looked at my teacher blankly when she told me. Last I heard, they were spouting poetic about how there was no radiation leak.

How quickly things change.

Explosions Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and now Tuesday... doesn't bode well for tomorrow. Officially they were only warning people 19 miles/30 kilometers from the plant; I live at least 200 km away. However, I also read that radiation in Saitama, only 50km away, is already up 40%. The mere fact that, by the end of the day, the BoE decided to cancel school for tomorrow so kids could be kept inside at home freaks me out. Of course, the teachers still have to go.

The thing that scared me the most was going to the grocery store. Apparently they made some comments on the news about stocking up on certain items. When I got there, the entire sections for rice, bread, instant noodles, milk, water, and toilet paper were just gone.

[If instant Star-Trek-like trasportation were possible] I'd really like to tap my heels and head home for a little while.

worried Baer

EDIT: I got a ton of worried emails and messages after posting this blog. I'm sorry for worrying all of you. Just to be clear, I have no immediate plans to come home unless things get a lot more dangerous. Leaving Japan has huge complications attached to it, so it is truly a last resort. As I mentioned above, we are still technically safe in Gunma. Nobody in my office even seems worried except me! So... yeah, I'm stressed out but... I'm still OK.

What's going on?

2011-03-14T18:14:00.005+09:00

I asked this question so many times today, I decided to just stop asking. On a normal day, it is extremely frustrating that nobody tells me anything; right now? It's just feels blatantly malicious. Case in point: I somehow managed to be the only person in the entire school (including students) that was not notified that there would be no school lunch today. Oops? Guess I should have figured that one out on my own.

As far as the blackout I mentioned previously: it seems that news of the impending blackout was enough to scare people into efficiency. Enough energy was saved that today's blackout was postponed and/or cancelled. To quickly douse that suspiciously positive note, I also heard that the energy rationing may last as long as the end of April.

Also,

the Miyavi fanclub trip was canceled.

...

*...sigh* Baer

Aftermath: English news is slow

2011-03-13T23:00:00.006+09:00

It's very frustrating that, although I live here, I have to receive my news at the same time as my friends and family in California and Texas via online [and mostly foreign] news sources. I flick through the TV channels, which still largely display disaster information, but it is useless to me. Thus, I doubt I have anything to tell that you, my friends, don't already know. I'm hoping to hear more tomorrow from the teachers at work.

It's Sunday night now, and even as I write this, I can feel an aftershock shaking the floor. I've continued to feel aftershocks all weekend but with much less frequency and intensity. It is possible that the general intensity of the aftershocks have lowered to a degree that I don't even know they are happening; laying silently on my couch with my computer, the only indicator I had of the last few aftershocks before this one was the quiet humming rattle of the sliding doors in my apartment. None were strong enough to wake me during the night.

Although I feel quite removed from the disasters of the quake and tsunami, I read on The Japan Times that Gunma will soon also be feeling its effects. Tepco (Tokyo Electric Power Co.), whom is my electricity provider, is planning to enact rolling blackouts throughout the Kanto area, including Gunma, in order to save on electricity. There don't seem to be a ton of details available yet, but the article says to expect 3 hour periods of blackout for at least a week, starting Monday. I really wonder what affect this will have at work; tomorrow should be interesting.

There is also a fledgling effort on Facebook among the Gunma JETs to organize volunteer relief workers. I have responded with tentative interest, as have many people I know. Everything is still so unknown that no one seems sure what needs to be done just yet. I must admit that I am a little concerned about going to an area that might be getting increasingly radioactive, despite government approved assurances that there are "no signs of a Chernobyl-type catastrophe". Let's hope not, but be cautious, eh?

Cheers,

loopless Baer

Earthquakes: 137 and counting

2011-03-12T10:24:00.004+09:00

It was a wild night last night.

I've always thought that one of the small little earthquakes we usually have around here are not a bad way to wake up in the morning: like a strong gust of wind swaying my hammock.

Last night, however, my hammock was assaulted by tropical storm force winds. Earthquakes woke me up at least 4 or 5 times during the night, and I could hear the obnoxious "Emergency- Earthquake!" warning going off on my phone over and over (what a useless feature: like I don't already KNOW there is an earthquake?).

I checked the USGS website, and it shows there have been something like 137 earthquakes in the last day! I surely believe it! I can hardly spend 20 minutes in my apartment without feeling it move. I feel pretty safe here though, so I'm not worried.

...you know what is really scary? When I applied to JET, I asked to be placed in Sendai. Good thing after all that that didn't happen. I don't think I'd be here to write this blog if it had.

Cheers,

shakin' Baer

Yippie-yi-yo-ki-yay!! Rollercoaster Japan

2011-03-11T19:55:00.002+09:00

Wow, today was just PACKED with excitement.

Today was junior high school graduation. It was a nice ceremony, with lot of speeches and singing. They take graduation very seriously. I didn't realize just how serious until during the ceremony, one of the student suddenly collapsed, just SMACK! hit the floor... and only 5 people ran over to carry her out. Nobody else even moved; the speaker just kept speaking, the teachers didn't twitch, and even the students didn't even look in her direction. Bunch of robots! It was really kind of freaky...
Afterwards, we waved goodbye to the graduating 3rd year students and took lots of pictures. When they had gone, the parents came and gave all the teachers bags of bakery goods as a thank-you-for-your-hard-work present. As there were no students, no classes, and it was a day of celebration, the principal gave us permission to leave work by 3 PM (2 hours early for teachers, ~1 hour early for me).

At 2:45 PM, I was working on my computer and watching the clock. Suddenly the desks started shaking just a little bit, and the teachers kind of glanced up at each other with an excited, "Did you feel that?" It was just a little shake, nothing to worry about. We sat and waiting for it to end, as they usually finish quickly. After a few moments, when the desks were still shaking, people started remarking "This is a long one!" ... a few moments later the shakes grew more intense, "Wow, really a long one!"... and more intense, "It's still going!"... Suddenly, the shakes started getting much stronger, and the exclamations grew worried. The teachers next to me glanced up at the overhanging air conditioner with trepidation, "This is dangerous..." The shakes got stronger and stronger, past anything we'd ever felt before. Everyone watched the ceiling-mounted TV shaking violently, yelling now to be careful. We could feel the whole building moving, swaying unnaturally. The vice principal ordered everyone out of the building, and we ran for the door, not even bothering to stop and change to our outdoor shoes.

Outside in the parking lot, we watched the windows of the gym shudder and the tall cedar trees shake as the ground rolled beneath our feet. Remembering what day it was, someone said, "Thank god this didn't happen during graduation!" and the others groaned in agreement (though whether it was over the possible chaos or a ruined ceremony, I can't be sure). Several people had their cell phones out and were trying to get through but to no avail. One of the teachers exclaimed loudly and ran toward one end of the parking lot, pointing, "Look! Look!" Across the street, the old-style embellishments on someone's roof had partially collapsed.

We stood outside until the shaking subsided to a low trembling. By then, 15 minutes had passed since the first tremors. Like frightened deer, we made our way cautiously back into the building. Besides a few messy desks, there was nothing amiss. The teachers jumped onto their computers and immediately started looking for info on the quake, while someone else grabbed the school's land line to start checking on loved ones. The rest of us watched the news on TV, which was already saturated with quake coverage.

Screen-capped from the JMA website

We found out it hit Miyagi/Fukushima/Ibaraki at a level 7 quake. By the time it made it all the way over to us in Ota, Gunma, it was a weak level 5. Even as we stood around watching the TV, we felt the aftershocks, "It's still going, it's still going!" One of the aftershocks was strong enough to send everyone back outside to the relative safety of the parking lot. There were no students in the building, but some were outside practicing sports on the playground; the vice-principal got on the intercom and told them all to sit down on the ground where they stood.

When it was finally calm enough to go back inside, we were all ordered to go check the building for damage. All the fire doors had closed, a basket of ping-pong balls was overturned, and there was some minor ceiling damaged in the annex walk-over, but everything looked pretty good. By then it was 3:30 PM, so I decided to head home.

The minute I opened my apartment door, I could see the place was a mess. Everything that had been on top of the fridge, cabinets, and shelves was on the floor. Even my convection oven had flipped off the microwave and lay upside-down on the floor. The space around the kitchen desk was a sea of papers. In the TV room, my books lay skewed but still mostly in place. Everything on top of the bookshelves had fallen off though; most interesting was my "fake" plant, which had somehow managed to land 3 feet feet away, without rolling, from its original location. I spent the extra time I got off work cleaning.

For me, the whole experience was pretty exciting and fun, since there was no real damage to speak of. I ran into some of my students on the way home, and we got into a shouting battle as we rode side-by-side on our bikes, with them yelling "Scary!" and me yelling "Exciting!"

For northern Japan, though, things look a lot more "scary" than "exciting". I'm watching TV right now and it's pretty amazing the damage that has been felt all over. The newscasters on TV are all wearing hard hats. In Sendai, a tsunami hit and washed in 10 meters of water, washing away cars, homes, and farmland. In many places, homes partially collapsed. In Chiba (above Tokyo), an oil refinery exploded. In Tokyo, a parking garage collapsed, and buildings were shaking hard enough to break windows, collapse walls, and knock off paint and brick siding. Inside buildings, people cling to desks and hold their computer upright, TVs fall off shelves and from the ceilings, cabinets tip over, and anything not nailed down spill their contents everywhere.

Even now, it's 7:50 PM, and I can still feel significant aftershocks.
Yuki told me that the news said to expect aftershocks to continue for a month, and that another large earthquake should be expected within the month as well.
Wow... what a a day.

Cheers,

earthquake Baer

Sanpo

2011-02-24T17:27:00.005+09:00

For the first time since the ruthless, cold hurricane of winter came to my small bit of nowhere, I went out for a sanpo. I say 'stroll', but of course I was on my bike. If one can stroll on a bike, then that's surely what I did. The air was cool but mercifully still. The sun was already half way to twilight, the sky feeling more blue than usual. It felt like I crime to stay inside.

I made up my mind to go over to the shrine I'd found ages ago. It's not really a destination, just an idea; one that is pleasant enough to get me out and moving. After so many weeks of huddling inside my jacket, bearing against the wind with only thought for destinations, I was happy to at last be free to wander.

I saw many people walking their dogs. I thought I saw a man with two dogs. As I came closer, I realized that while the two animals were of nearly the same size, the larger of the two was not on a leash, and in fact was not a dog at all, but a large cat. I was shocked and so was the dog, who got scared away by the large feline. I looked up and met eyes with the dog's owner, and we shared a look of amusement. A perfect moment of nonverbal connection.

Only a few blocks from home, I continue my meandering bike-stroll with a smile tucked in the corner of my mouth. Some days are meant to be.

Cheers,

blissful Baer

きりつ! [key-ree-ts]

2011-01-31T19:20:00.003+09:00

Every once and a while at work, after classes and cleaning are finished for the day and the students have been ushered off to their club activities, all of the teachers will gather in the teacher's room for a meeting. These meetings are very long and very dull, covering every possible aspect of students and school life, including students behavior, injuries, and activities. I never pay any attention during these meetings since it's all quite over my head. Usually I sneak out about half way through to go home for the day.

I'm not the only one who finds them dull though; quite often I see teachers fighting the battle to stay vertical as they continually drift to sleep.

Today's meeting, however, took a rather interesting turn. The main topic for discussion was "aisatsu", the greetings that take place before every class begins. Greetings always go as follows: the "student of the day" tells everyone to stand up and then he or she looks around to make sure everyone is standing, facing forward, and silent. Once everyone is standing, they say "Attention!" (きりつ！) and finally "Bow". Everyone bows together and says "onegaishimasu", as in "yoroshiku onegaishimasu". Personally I think this is one of the most difficult phrases to translate in Japanese, but I think, in this particular situation, it is essentially, "thank you for teaching us". After bowing, the students must remain standing until the teacher tells them to sit down.

The sheer formality of such a greeting before the start of every single class, even in elementary school, has always amused me. It seems very bizarre and unnecessary to me, though I am fascinated by innate Japanese-ness of it. The teachers obviously take it very seriously, as evident by the extensive discussion they had today.

I was shocked into attention of this discourse by the sudden, recognizable call to "stand up!", nearly leaping to my feet myself. Instead, I looked up to see a few of the teachers, the principal, and the vice-principal acting as students in an impromptu role-play. They went through a round of greetings, and one of the teachers took on the role of a belligerent student. She alternated between refusing to give a full bow and refusing to say "onegaishimasu" as she bowed. The model teacher gave a model reprimand the the "class" continued to go through greetings until she "behaved".

Those of us that weren't participating were enjoying the little play. During the second round of greetings, after being given the command to stand, the vice-principal was a little slow on picking up the fact that they were still role-playing, and the model teacher, true to his role, was quick to respond, "Vice Principal, please stand up more quickly!" He blushed, and everyone laughed.

Afterwards, the teachers discussed the role-play, including exactly how quickly a person should bow, how deep a bow should be, and whether or not they were allowed to sit down afterward. It was a rather fascinating display, from my point of view. I felt like an anthropologist. I asked my teacher why they were discussing this. She seemed almost offended that I even had to ask, "It's part of student discipline. They aren't being polite enough!"

It's junior high school. Go figure.

Cheers,

anthropologist Baer

-Update- New Posts!

2011-01-30T17:24:00.003+09:00

Hello, my eager readers.

A short post to let you know I've updated with a few new backdated entries.

Please refer to the right-hand links under "Blog Archive".

New entries for 2010!

April - Accidental Acquaintances

September - Chef Savant

August - X Japan Yokohama

November - Punk Kaya

December - Questionable Medicine

Enjoy!

belated Baer

Miyavi! You did it!!

2011-01-14T18:12:00.005+09:00

Amazing.

A-MAZE-ING!

AMAZING.

AMAZING!

...

Did I mention amazing? No?

AMAZING!!!!!

Remember my post last September about how, at his concert, I asked Miyavi to do a fanclub trip inside Japan before July? How he suggested an onsen trip and said he'd try?

He did it!! He's really making it happen! In April~!

I can't even think of anything coherent to write.

Amid the chaos of his world tour, he came through for me...

Wow! I am so impressed, and happy, and gleeful, and thankful, and... really impressed.

How can I not love such a man?

Amazing.

382(!!!!!!)* BAER!

P.S. On top of this, I found in the mail today that I won a Miyavi contest! Free poster and DVD! Whoohoo!!

Footnote:

*Some people were wondering why I always sign my Miyavi posts with "382". In Japanese, this can be read as mi-ya-bi(vi). He has it tattooed on his fingers and often uses it to refer to himself. Mystery solved!

Not-So-Happy Bag

2011-01-05T18:00:00.005+09:00

The New Year arrives in Japan, and with it... bunnies!

...no, I'm just kidding.

The highly advertised mascot of 2011 may be a rabbit, but sales are the real god in January.

In my opinion, sales in Japan usually leave a lot to be desired. Despite investing in enough banners and poster to make me think a place is going out of business, I usually find that the one lonely little rack marked 50-10% OFF (yes, they write it backwards, isn't that sneaky?) MAY have, at one point, had a single item that was 50% off, but all the remaining items are heavy on the 10% side. Now I have a tendency to look at sale racks like the last inch of milk at the bottom of the carton.

However, come the end of December and the beginning of January, along with a few other times of year centered around the end of a season, stores in Japan have "Lucky Bag" or "Happy Bag" sales. They cram a variety of unsold items into an opaque shopping bag, tape it closed, and sell it for a discounted price. You have no idea what you'll get... but it's on sale!

Seems kind of crazy, right? Who would pay any amount of money, let alone $60 to $160 for a glorified crapshoot? Well, the answer is, a lot of people. More specifically,

Me.

and Chingyi, of course, my partner in consumer-insanity.

Although initially overcome with uncertainty, we finally settled on buying matching bags at Arrow, a store we both love in the local AEON mall. We decided that for our one and only "happy bag" indulgence, we would go all out and get large size bags. While neither of us set our expectations too high for the results of this experience, neither could we quite contain our excitement at the prospect of our own little mystery adventure, for which we had the privilege of paying $120 each.

After putting in our orders at the end of December, we returned yesterday to pick up our "Happy Bags". On the way to the mall, I noticed others that had also indulged in the yearly consumer tradition, primarily one girl who had a very large Hello Kitty shopping bag hanging from her shoulder. Inside the mall, many of the stores had signs advertising "Happy Bag" sales and pick-ups. We raced to Arrow with matching excitement and trepidation.

The bag itself was a nice satin zip-up affair, big and hefty, which we wore proudly on our shoulders. We immediately went to the food court to settle in for dinner and our own Christmas in January. One by one we took turns blindly taking one item at a time out of our respective bags, until the bags were empty.

The result? As sad as it was predictable:

A spectacular failure!!!

Almost musingly so. Almost, if so much (albeit misguided) anticipation hadn't been wrapped up in it. Still, it was hard not to find amusement in the extreme level of failure. Each item carefully unwrapped was like a Christmas present from a distant aunt - an embroidered-cat-pillows kind of aunt - and all you can do is smile ruefully and shake your head, oohing and ahhing over the smallest details in dictionary-style depiction of "make the best of it". When we were finished and still peering into the bottom of our bags hopefully, the bag itself became a sort of consolation prize. Seventy-two inches of nylon gold.

Two points to Chingyi and Lindsay. Just a couple o' girls with bags full of cat pillow.

Cheers,

consumed-consumer Baer

Ms.Stump Star

2010-12-24T18:53:00.006+09:00

This year, Christmas at the JHS was pretty low-key (though I suppose it probably always is), and my Christmas lesson turned out to be a bit of flop. However, at the elementary school, we had lots of fun.

My new supporter, Akemi's replacement, is a very nice young woman named Rie. Her English is almost perfect, as she went to college in Hawaii. She is a very motivated individual. The ALT who handles the 1st, 2nd, and 5th grade classes dumped the planning of his Christmas lesson completely on her... and she did such a great job I stole most of her lesson for my own 3rd, 4th, and 6th grade classes. To her credit, she actually did work in an English school previously, so she already has the experience. Honestly, she makes me feel quite unnecessary...

Rie really went all out for the lesson. She arranged for the use of hula hoops and made big pieces of fake candy for the "Keyword Game", illustrated a Christmas story, obtained permission to hang balloons from the ceiling to create a "party" atmosphere, somehow convinced all the teachers to chip in for ~32 Santa hats, as well as convincing the homeroom teachers to dress up as Santa (to hand out the hats). I feel like that is more communication than I have accomplished in over a year.

Although months ago we were finally, at Akemi's

urging, given leave to convert a free classroom into an "English Room", this month we were told we could move to the recently refurbished section of the school. Everything is shiny and new, the wood is bright, clean, and un-warped, the walls are freshly painted, the shelves unlittered... it is very refreshing! I don't even mind having to move all of the decorations!

After we had bi-lingual Christmas story time, we took some questions from the students, most of which I could not answer, but did my best: Is Santa real today? (Of course!) Why does he wear red? (So you can see him coming) Why does he/do we wear [Santa] hats? (Because it's cold) Where is Santa from? (OH! I know that one! Turkey)

They also wanted to know what we usually get in our stockings. I told them "toys, money, and an orange". They all went "eeeehhhhh??" and asked why an orange (notice no one protest to free toys and money!), and though I have no idea why "Santa" always gives my brother and I oranges, I told them sternly, "Santa wants you to be healthy!". Everyone, I might add, found this hilarious.

After we finally finished with the last Christmas lesson, I moved all the decorations to create a "Christmas Corner". One of students had made tiny little cut-outs of crayon-colored trees, so I decided to incorporate these into my Corner. As I was moving them, I noticed that some of the trees were yellow.

Me: "Rie, why are these trees yellow?"

Rie: "Trees? I think those are stars."

Me: "Stars? ... but they have stumps."

Tie: "... it's a stump star."

Maybe it was because she was totally serious when she said it, but I thought this was so hilarious, I nearly fell off the cabinet I standing on. It still makes me laugh near to tears. Rie was equally affected and all one of us had to do was mutter "stump star" before we both erupted again in laughter as we were cleaning.

Today when Rie dropped off her Christmas present to me, she managed to incorporate all our little jokes; inside I found two oranges, a card with a drawing of an orange that said "Santa wants you to be healthy"...and the card was signed, "Ms. Stump Star".

Merry Christmas,

stump star Baer

Questionable Medicine

2010-12-20T15:39:00.006+09:00

Ah, another Christmas in Japan.

I'm posting about this later rather than at the time it happened, because I didn't want anyone else to worry about me.
My track record for Japanese Christmas is pretty terrible. Last Xmas I was sick on Xmas day and several days after. Although it is not technically Xmas yet, it is close enough to say that this year was worse; I was sick for the last two week with some unidentifiable, unfamiliar, unyielding abdominal pain, ended up going to 3 doctors and wondering if I was going to have to fly home to the States.

None of the doctors did me a whit of good, and I ended up healing (whatever it was that needed healing...) on my own, so I think I'm OK now... However, it was certainly an interesting look into the medical profession in Japan. The first doctor I went to, they wanted to take an x-ray of my abdomen. I walked into the x-ray room, and they had these picture posters on the wall demonstrating how to pose for various x-rays; the woman used in the photos was a stunner... from 1940. I eyed the equipment a little more critically after that, my confidence not exactly full to bursting.

When we went to speak to the doctor, he pointed at some white lines on the film and asked me if I'd ever had surgery. It took me a moment (as I was surprised you could see such a thing on an x-ray) but I told him I had an appendectomy in kindergarden (talk about abdominal pain!). He was really fascinated by this for some reason and asked if he could see my scars. I showed him the three small scars I have from the endoscopic surgery scattered over my stomach, hardly visible anymore, and he got REALLY animated. From what I understood, he said that they (STILL!!) don't use endoscopy in Japan; just cut a big ol' hole in the person and take it out the old fashion way. Eck! And mine was done almost 20 years ago!! Really scary. Note to self: do not stay in Japan for major medical procedures.

While I was still looking for doctors to visit in Tokyo, with the hope of finding someone who spoke English, my father sent me some links on medical information. I was really shocked to find out that in Japan, once you have your medical license, you are set to practice medicine FOR LIFE, without any monitoring, continuing education, or re-licensing necessary. The example was that a doctor could decide to stop practicing medicine and then, 20 or 30 years later, pick it up again and open a clinic without ever having to do a thing to brush up on his (or her, though you wont find many female doctors in practice) skills. In addition to that horrifying thought, doctors can advertise themselves as "specialists" of any field of medicine without any particular qualification; quite literally, all they need to do a print of business card! I couldn't believe it... Of course, in Tokyo there are plenty of very qualified doctors in hospitals who ARE certified specialists, so it is important to do your homework and go to the right hospital. As usual, the answer is: go to Tokyo.

Honestly, it explained a lot for me. In my little town you can find a clinic almost on every street corner, sometimes more than one. Part of that is because Japanese people go to the doctor for absolutely everything, including the common cold. Now I can't help wondering if the other part of it is that opening a practice is an incredibly easy way to lead a profitable semi-retirement for old fogey doctors who don't have to be inconvenience with pesky things like actually being qualified to practice medicine in the 21st century.

Scary.

Cheers,

Baer

Punk Kaya

2010-11-14T20:07:00.004+09:00

Went to another Kaya/Kaleidescrope live tonight. His lives are always interesting. For one, you never know which "Kaya" you're going to see. Will it be "boy Kaya" or "girl Kaya"? I have seen him as a boy so seldom, I always secretly hope for it, at least for a few songs (he often changes clothes in the middle of the concert).

However, I absolutely didn't expect what DID happen. The band members came out one-by-one and there was a half-hearted response, fans calling out their names in greeting. When the drummer, bassist, guitarist, and keyboardist were in place, someone else came out, and I was like "who the hell is that?". Much to my surprise, the fangirls next to me started calling out "Kaya!" My eyes about fell out of my head. As a "girl", Kaya wears lolita-style, super elegant, lacy, elaborate dresses with matching hair accessories and usually a rose somewhere on his person. Even when Kaya dresses as a boy, he is very cutsie and sticks to cute clothing, like flowy poet shirts or silly school uniforms... THIS Kaya was one I had never seen before. He was dressed head to toe in Algonquins!! (a Japanese punk brand). He had on a long sleeve tan-ish t-shirt with writing scrawled on it, a really hideous, open, loose black zip hoody with a pho-leopard fur hood and pockets (doesn't sound punk until you see it), SUPER tight red pants complete with studded patches and fashionably shredded holes (thus solving the mystery of wether boy Kaya shaves his legs - NO), and grungy hightop sneakers with the tops folded over to reveal the plaid red inside. The only thing that wasn't awful was his hair, which was slightly red in color, permed, and flipped to one side of his head, where it had been pinned, sprayed, and braided into submission until it hung in nice frizzy curls over the right half of his face. Seeing Kaya dressed like that -in PUNK!- was like...Obama showing up to give a national address in a 1980s bubblegum, puff sleeve prom dress. Let's just take a minute to picture that, shall we?

...

...Anyway, it was still adorable because Kaya made it extremely obvious that he felt no more at home than he looked, wearing such clothes on stage. He kept asking if he looked alright. When his adoring fans told him he looked cool ("かこいいですよ〜！"), he didn't believe them because he kept saying, "Really? Really?" He sighed, "It's so hard being a boy," and we all laughed because, for him, it was so true. He was trying to figure out how to stand and look "manly" with the microphone, and finally just sort of slung his arm over the microphone stand and slumped like a bum, saying "Like this, right?" to the general hilarity of all (apparently the key to being a boy --> look like a slob). For a split second he did his usual girly, twinkle-toes microphone posture, and the contrast was so vast is was painfully funny (I think there were tears in my eyes). Of course, he might have just be fishing for compliments, because one of the fans said, "You're so cute!" and he gave that amazing million-dollar smile of his and said, "I know!" (Ah, there's the Kaya we know and love)

It wasn't until he actually pointed it out and said this was an "Algonquins live" that I noticed the other members were also all wearing the same brand. It looked normal on everyone else!

The performance was different from any other of the lives I went to, with no real soft or particularly jazzy stuff, but he had redone some of his old songs in the Kaleidescope style. Honestly, I wasn't super into the music, but I enjoyed watching the members. I noticed that Kaya never seemed to actually look at anyone in the audience. He looked off to the side, or up at the ceiling, or at a point at the back of the room... But I was standing in the first row, three feet in front of him, and he never once looked at me. It was bizarre. Is he shy? He doesn't usually look at the crowd when he talks either, but usually looks behind him to the other members. I always thought that was really odd. I got a lot of looks from Shingo, the bassist though. He is such a pleasure to watch because he is always smiling and honestly looking like he is enjoying himself.

The members were all pretty cute, personality wise. The leader of the band was clearly the drummer, but he was way awkward too and usually began his talks with a grunt, and [the Japanese equivalent of a] "umm...", "yeah..." or "so..." which was just generally adorable to all, including the other band members who were all too shy to say anything at all (except for Shingo, of course, who revels in the spotlight). There were two guest artists as well, a guitarist who looked about 17, and a keyboardist playing a hand held synthesizer that could have been stolen from A Flock of Seagulls. I don't think anyone there was old enough to have seen one in action before, so everyone was impressed. After they played one song, he admitted it was his first time playing it! Even Kaya seemed shocked.

The whole concert was very laid back and kind of funny. They kept poking fun at each other and having these little discussions between songs that were clearly unrehearsed (or, that they had talked about saying something... but never decided WHAT to say). Considering the minuscule venue and small number of us there, the easy atmosphere made sense; more like two dorms rooms shoved together than Tokyo Dome.

The stage was really tiny and didn't really fit the five members comfortably, yet with the guest artist, they sometimes had up to seven people on stage! Kaya almost smacked straight into the bassist when he turned around (the girl next to me gasped and reached out her arm, as if she could somehow throw herself across the stage to save him). When Kaya went offstage, the other members would take turns standing center stage. Most of them didn't really like the limelight, so Shingo was more than happy to soak it up on their behalf (lol, I adore that man).

It was a strange and unexpected experience. I hope I get to see him and Kaleidoscope play together a few more times before I go home. Since they seem more like a group of friends than a real band, I doubt they will ever make the journey together overseas.

Cheers,

'Addict' Baer

The End

2010-11-10T19:28:00.003+09:00

I suppose you are wondering why I haven't posted a blog is over a month. My apologies. However, for a while now I have come to realize that I've lapsed into a sort of "Stage 2", highly critical mentality: suddenly a lot of things just seem "wrong". I recognize this delayed culture shock (from my experience living in Russia) as being a result of staying in Japan for too long an uninterrupted period of time. Quite simply, I need a break.

However, rather than spend time and money giving myself that break, I decided that the time has come to go home. Permanently. I officially declined re-contracting for another year and will be returning home at the end of July 2011.

It's not as rash as it sounds. I've thought about this for months. Technically, I've thought about it since even the moment I first arrived, always testing, asking myself "Am I still OK?" It's not as though the answer to that question has suddenly switch to "No!" It's more of a slow sighing "... yeah, I'm OK..." like a reluctant seven year old that doesn't want to talk about a fight on the playground.

Definitely it's been a wonderful experience that I would highly recommend to anyone who has time and even the smallest inclination. I thought it was particularly wonderful for me because, like many JETs, I got into it immediately following graduation, with no job prospects, significant other, or property (beside a car that my father happily babysits) to tie me down. Real interest in Japan has, of course, also been crucial; without my searing love for Jrock music, my time here would never have been so colorful.

Still, anymore than 2 years and I find myself wondering how exactly I'm going to explain this on my already multifarious resume. Just generally, I feel very nervous and eager to hurry up and move on to the next, more permanent, stage of my life. I have some idea of what I want to do, and I'd like to get started on doing it.

Cheers,

better already Baer

A hug from Miyavi

2010-09-14T23:51:00.009+09:00

Today is Miyavi's 29th birthday. Happy birthday, Miyavi!

To celebrate, he had his 2nd fanclub only live. I had to take off a day from work (which is a story on its own, but one I will resist telling), but there was no way I was going to miss this live.

Arriving at the venue, I went up to do the ID check. As this was a special event, everyone got a free fanclub hand towel as a gift at check in:

Miyavi Fanclub: C.W.I.F.

Co-Miyavi Worldwide International Family

My ticket was rather unfortunate. It was one of those rare concerts where the there are actually seats instead of standing room. My luck clearly having run out starting with the X Japan concert, my seat ended up being on the 2nd floor... in the back. I was pretty depressed about this until I got into the venue, Mt.Rainier Shibuya Pleasure Pleasure (no, that is not a typo) and saw that it was actually pretty small. The view from the 2nd floor turned out to be pretty good, even from the back. However, the saddest part about being on the 2nd floor is that the band on stage can't see you at all... Naturally, I want to be seen as much as I want to see. For Miyavi, this is especially true, as I am always hoping that maybe, just maybe, this time he will remember me.

As I sat waiting for the show to start, two girls approached me from the left and leaned over to talk to me. From what I gathered, they were there together but had seats apart, so they wanted to know if I would trade seats. I couldn't quite believe it when she offered me her 1st floor seat for my 2nd floor one. I grabbed my stuff and jumped at the chance before the magical opportunity disappeared, then practically floated down the steps to the 1st floor. For a brief second I worried that maybe it wasn't a good seat, but it turned out alright, about in the middle of room, and not too far to the side.

I was quite pleased as I looked around at my new settings. I noticed that one of the foreigners I had been talking with before the show (let's call her Laura) was sitting right in front of me. To my left was a guy wearing plaid pants, sunglasses, a black shoulderless punk top with D-rings and black leather (pleather?) boots. On my right was a tall, skinny wisp of a woman in red high heels, a trendy brown tench-coat style pencil dress, hair carefully pulled back, with a Louis Vuitton bag in her lap. Staring between them, I was suddenly reminded of the time I was talking with a man on the Shinkansen, and he said that I didn't seem like a visual music fan because I was too "clean" looking. Looking around at the fanclub members that night, it was clear how off a statement that was.

All the sudden as I was sitting there, I had a really good feeling about the concert. I knew realistically, it was likely just my general excitement and happiness over the new seat. Still... my usual reticence toward hope was strangely silent. I had a REALLY good feeling about the blind box questionnaire session I knew would take place in the middle of the show...

The beginning of the concert was a surprise for me. The stage was dark, no intro, and a shadowy figure walked onto it and waved to everyone before sitting down, but it wasn't actually apparent until the lights came up that it was Miyavi. I had at first thought it was just stage hand doing a sound check. Only a small cheer went up. The unusually inconspicuous opening set the atmosphere for the whole concert: relaxed, laid back, casual. As he began playing, I was really shocked that everyone stayed in their seats, not even attempting to stand. This was another first for me, but one I welcomed readily, as it gave me a far better view of the stage. In general I was quite surprised at the reactions of the audience. Everyone was very subdued, and even the moments designated for cheering were far shorter and quieter than normal.

Miyavi was dressed in a dark outfit, his usual elegance in simplicity, the only items of which I can remember being a black jacket (likely with a t-shirt underneath) and expensive-looking shoes that shined in the spot lights. I was more interested in his hair, which was hat free for once. Wonderfully free of extensions, it was slicked back on his head either with water or gel, and was nearly shoulder length. It was definitely another look that very few people could pull off, but one that made him look serious and professional. I was surprised, but pleased. He didn't play any new songs that night, but he did play in a rather unique, blues-house fashion that made the songs seem revamped, if not new. The whole evening he sat at his little one man setup to the side of the stage with an amped acoustic guitar. His current drummer BOBO and keyboardist Coba84 played in the background.

After a few songs and what seemed like far too little time, Miyavi took a rest and started talking to us. BOBO went offstage, but Coba84 started playing some quiet background music on his keyboard. It was pretty amusing, actually, because every once and a while, Miyavi would get annoyed at having to speak over the BG music, so he would wave him impatiently off or say "Cut the BG!".... then, a few minutes later, he would get tired of the silence and ask for "a little BG, please". They weren't exactly subtle cues, and soon we were all laughing at him, and I think he made some comment about it that I didn't catch. While he was talking, he was looking around at the audience (sucks to be on the 2nd floor!). He paused and said "There are a lot of foreigners/foreigners(Eng)/on the first floor." He look around and pointed at someone near him, "Where are you from?" She answered (we were all girls) and then he went around one by one and asked all the foreigners where they were from. Everyone was from either America or France. When he got to me, he didn't ask but just said, "America?" I am not so sure if that meant he had a vague recollection of me or, more likely, he was just tipped off by the huge freakin' grin on my face: nobody does enthusiasm like Americans!

After that, he played a couple more songs, then paused again. This time, the staff handed him the blind box full of questionnaires. I tried not to get too excited, but I was at least happy that he was going to read the notes himself this time instead of having one of his staff do it. To give you an idea of the suspense, there were somewhere between 200-300 people in attendance, and he only ever pulls out about 4-5 names. He went through the first two questionnaires: no dice. It would have been interesting anyway except unfortunately (as per usual), I couldn't understand almost anything of what was said. I did catch one of the questions though. One of the girls asked (something like), "What does your daughter call you?" He said she called him "Papa" but had also learned to say "Daddy" (sounding like more like "dodi"). Then he said, he's been trying to teach her some English words for animals, using a picture book. He points at a picture and says, "Monkey", "Dog", etc. However, instead of repeating the word, she just point at each animals and says, "Daddy, daddy, daddy." It was a cute story and everybody laughed.

He pulled out the next name and made a sound of surprise,

Myv: (Jap) "Oh! it's in English!"

The crowd "Ahh~!"ed appreciatively.

A frission of hopeful excitement shot through me. I always write my answers on the questionnaires in English first (with a little note at the top that says, "Please speak English!"), then have a friend translate it into Japanese. "That could be mine!" I thought. My heartbeat shot up as he read my name from the bottom of the paper. It was surreal! Without waiting for him to ask, my hand shot up into the air, ready to be acknowledged (though he couldn't see me yet with the lights down). After he saw who and where I was, he turned to the first question on the questionnaire, which was something like "What do you want from the fanclub?" I had written "I go back to America in July of next year... I'd love to have another fanclub trip in Japan before then." He read this aloud in English, then he actually sat back on his stool and seemed to think about it, which, no matter his answer, made me so happy, so appreciative.

Myv: *stares off at the ceiling and mumbles quietly as he translates 'July' into Japanese and then counts off the months*

Myv: *still thoughtful, he looks over at me* (first in Jap, then in Eng) "You are going back to America next year?"

I replied in the affirmative.

Myv: *stares at the ceiling some more, thinking* "Hmm"

Myv: "I want to take a trip to Hawaii, America, etc... but you want to go in Japan, right?"

Another enthusiastic affirmative reply from my corner of cloud 9.

Myv: "Do you like onsen?"

I don't know what I said, something like, "I love it!" but he had translated into Japanese and everyone was cheering, so it was mostly lost in the general uproar.

Myv: *Still considering (Gods, I love him!), "Maybe in Aomori, Nagano..."

His voice was lost as everyone cheered heartily. The idea seemed pretty popular.

He looked at me again and nodded his promise,

Myv: "I'll try to make it happen."

Me: "Thank you!" a fervent reply, my heart full to bursting.

It's hard for me to even remember all of what was said, even immediately following the concert; I was too excited for the focus of memory. Still, although it is hard for me to communicate it here, it seemed like he spent a long time on my question, pausing as he really seemed to be thinking about it, working the possibilities over in his mind. I really believed him when he said he would work on it.

Finally he turned to the next question on the paper, which was something like "What do you want from me right now?" or "What do you want to ask me right now?" I never have anything I can think to ask, so instead I wrote, "In Okinawa, I wanted to ask for a hug, but I was too nervous... Can I have a hug now?" When my friend had translated this into Japanese, she laughed and rolled her eyes at me, but I figured, why not? The chances of being chosen were so small, and the likelihood of it ever happening twice were even smaller, so you might as well ask for what you really want!

Miyavi laughed as he tried to read the paper, clearly finding it difficult to read the small squished letters and equally squished Kanji (the paper was not exactly designed for multi-lingual translations). Aloud, he mumbled his way through the English version, and laughed out loud, saying (Jap), "Huh? What?" probably thinking he had read my request for a hug wrong. I suddenly felt bad about my sloppy handwriting - and more than a little silly for what I had written. He read through it again, slowly, sounding out the words. After finally distinguishing my scrawled word "hug", he read the whole thing aloud in confident English. There wasn't much of a reaction at first due to the language barrier, except from Laura, who turned around and gave me and incredulous "Really? REALLY?!" clearly not approving. I just smiled and laughed, "Why not!"

Meanwhile, Miyavi began reading the Jap. translation. My heart swelled again when everyone cheered and clapped for my cute and heartfelt request. I was really happy to have their support, feeling as self-conscience as I was. Miyavi let them clap and then said something like, "Yeah, OK, come on up" except my excitement in that moment totally obliterated my recall, and I have no idea what he really said. Everyone let out sounds of surprise and envy, giving a little cheer. Laura was looking back at me, and even as I slowly stood, I looked down at her with wide eyes, asking, "Really? Really?" I knew when I wrote the request that Miyavi was not the sort of person that would say no, but still, until that moment, I had been unable to hope for quite that much.

I should have been staring at Miyavi as I walked down the middle isle toward the stage; now, as I write this, I can't believe I didn't! At the time, however, my attention was wholly centered on the stage, looking for stairs, very focused on how I was going to get onto the stage. A female staffer practically crawled halfway across the stage to point me toward a door with a hidden staircase. As I walked toward it, I heard Miyavi getting to his feet and taking loud, clomping steps to get out from behind his setup, the bells attached to one of his ankles (part of his one-man setup) ringing with every step. Behind me, I heard everyone laughing, but I was too distracted to look above his feet and as I moved toward the door. From the corner of my eye, I saw him fixing his hair.

Two steps up and a male staffer ushered me around the corner to the right. Suddenly Miyavi stood before me. Still halfway across the stage from me, he looked straight at me and smiled. He rolled his shoulders, then smoothed his thumb and forefinger over the front of his jacket and flicked out edge of the lapels, puffing out imaginary wrinkles. Suddenly I had this thought in my head of Miyavi as my prom date (LOL). he smiled radiantly as I approached him, a smile I full-heartedly returned. Then he threw his arms out in a welcoming gesture, and I walked into them. It felt so good, so... normal, to wrap my arms around him, to let his bigger size engulf me (like a praying mantis hugging a lady bug). Until that moment, none of it had felt read: him calling me to come up on stage, the walk to the front, the sound of the crowd, the anticipation... it was like watching a movie inside my head. I couldn't feel it. Just that moment, as he hugged me, and the one that followed after as he pulled away, were the only ones when everything didn't feel surreal. Just then, in those moments, there was no crowd, no staff, no stage. Just us. As he pulled away, still smiling, he repeated his promise about the fanclub trip, "I'll try to make it happen." He was so sincere. I knew he meant what he said. I thanked him and turned to walk back off the stage. Before reaching the door, I laughed my excitement and disbelief into my hand, and the crowd, still watching, laughed. Everyone clapped as I returned to my seat.

For the rest of the concert, I tried to burn the memory of that moment into my head. I thought about him going home that night and laughing as he told his wife about his crazy American fan's request, and it made me smile with happiness.

As I stood up to leave at the end of the concert, I smiled my happiness at Laura. She shook her head at me, "That was so American... that was SO American." Her intonation made it clear that 'American' in this case, was a synonym for 'foolish and selfish'. maybe hearing her own words, she quickly followed this with an enthusiastic but insincere, "but I love you anyway." ... I just smiled and laughed: Let her be jealous! I just got a hug from Miyavi!!

As we were all filing out of the venue, a few people in the crowd gave me knowing looks, recognizing me (Jap), "Wow, you gave Miyavi a hug, didn't you? Amazing. What was he like?" How to find a word to describe the stars? I just said "Really cool!" ("すご~い　かっこいい！") Soon after that, my friend Wako burst through the crowd at me (Jap), "I heard him say 'Lindsay' and I was so surprised!" I hung out and spoke with Wako for about an hour while she met up with other friends, the most recognizable being Hikaru. I recognized many of the others, but couldn't say much. She told them all about my interaction with Miyavi and they all stared at me with huge eyes.

Afterward, we all walked to the train station together. I told Wako my concern/suspicion (in bad Japanese) that when I had gone on stage, the other fans had been thinking "I hate that girl a little bit." She told Hikaru what I'd said (yeah, my Japanese is pretty bad) and they both emphatically assured me that it wasn't true. "We were really happy for you! We're all family, after all." I glowed when I heard that. Before we said our goodbyes, Wako and I made a promise to each other, again, that we would have to meet up. I took a picture before slipping off to my train.

Wako, Me, Hikaru, Wako's friend

What an amazing night. I don't think I'll stop glowing for days.

Cheers!!

382 Baer

Demonstration

2010-09-13T18:31:00.005+09:00

Ahh... すかれた。。

I am worn out. Emotionally, if not physically.

Today at the JHS, I (along with the JTE, Japanese Teacher of English) had to teach a lesson to the 1st year students (a.k.a 7th grade) in front of all the local ALTs. In the past, I had done several demonstration lessons, but they were always for either the Board of Education (BoE) or parents. Of course I was always nervous preparing for these lessons; it is difficult not to be nervous when your boss and twenty other people are essentially staring over your shoulder while you work (except, actually, they are staring you in the face). Nonetheless, a certain amount of distance always remains between myself and these groups.

However, this was the first time I had to perform before my fellow ALTs. I discovered that the anticipation of being judged by my peers was far more stressful and frightening. As I was eating my lunch today, my hands were shaking. I knew my poor JTE wasn't any better off. She is a brand new teacher, just out of college, and this would be the first time she did any sort of demonstration lesson. I did my best to give her some idea of what to expect, but I am sure she had to have felt worse than I did. It was for my own benefit, however, that I insisted we go over the lesson plan, point by point, so we would know exactly what to say, who would do what when, which cues to follow, right down to which students we would call on. I simply couldn't tolerate being unprepared in any way. Fortunately my JTE felt similar or, at least, was happy to indulge me.

An hour before the lesson was supposed to start, we went up to start getting the room ready. When I had originally been told that they were planning on having the demo lesson in a regular classroom, I had balked. Those classrooms are already filled end to end with 30 students and their desks. To add an additional 20 people to that would mean they would practically have to sit in the isles and stand right in the doorway. It would be pretty difficult to pretend that they weren't there (my coping strategy) when they were standing right next to me! Not for the first time, I was a little shocked at how unprepared my superiors were for the demonstration, and it was once again left up to me to come up with a solution. Fortunately, it turned out there was a huge empty room right down the hall that would be perfect for our purposes. Again, why no one had even considered this previously...

The only downside of using the room, I discovered as we were getting ready and hour before, was that it was stifling hot from disuse. However, as the entire school building is unairconditioned, this was something I was pretty used to. We opened all the windows and hoped for the best. About twenty minutes before the start of the lesson, the students had to carry their desks and chairs in from their regular classroom. It was pretty funny to watch as every single student was fanning their face with their notebooks, trying desperately to cool off; the JTE warned them they would have to suffer in stillness as soon as the ALTs arrived.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that, once the lesson began, my nerves mostly dissolved. I followed an old professor's advice and focused on the kids, pretending, as I said before, that the ALTs weren't even there. This worked for the most part, let me get through what I needed to, while I was certainly more on my toes than usual. In the end, I felt like the lesson went really well, and the kids were so well behaved I wanted to hug every one of them (okay, maybe not... How about stickers instead?). The ALTs filed out, and I helped clean up the room until my supervisor told me the stop procrastinating and go join the after-lesson meeting.

In truth, I had been dreading the meeting far more than the lesson. As nerve-racking as it is having people watch me work, a lesson is still just a lesson. The sole purpose of the meeting was for everyone to get together and pick apart the lesson piece by piece, critiquing our every word and action. I was overwhelmed with eagerness.

Quiet to my delirious surprise, the meeting wasn't painful at all. Everyone was even more silent than usual, and I didn't receive a single significant critique, let alone criticism. Everyone seemed very impressed with the lesson, both in planning and execution. At least one of the ALTs told me that he was even planning on stealing the lesson plan for his own class. I was a little nervous when it was my immediate supervisor's, Mr. Sakazume, turn to speak. However, even he had only praise, and even made an emphatic comment that all the ALTs aught to follow my example and memorize students' names. In the silence that followed, I had to confess to relying on seating charts, for the moment was just too embarrassing to take. One the ALTs suggested that I could also try to be even more "genki"/sickeningly cheerful. "Sorry," I said, "that's as happy as I get."

Even after the meeting, it took a long time for the nerves to wear off. I felt a little shaky from all the stress, even after it was over. Just plain emotionally tuckered out.

So glad to have that experience behind me. Way, way behind me.

Cheers,

sensei Baer

Feeding Frenzy

2010-09-11T19:48:00.004+09:00

Was in Ota today. There was a bit of a wait for my train home, so I did the usual thing and went over to Don Quixote.

Not really intending to buy anything, I meandered until I noticed an anomaly of Japanese behavior taking place right there between the milk and the packaged meat: people were being rude! Cutthroat, even. Pushing and shoving, reaching over and each other, children crying... I stood for a moment with my mouth hanging open. I had to know what this was about. A moment later I heard the authoritative and slightly nasal novice of a store employee announcing a sale, and for the first time I noticed a pair of "STAFF ONLY" doors just as they swung open. The crowd descended on him so swiftly, I never saw what it was he had. Whatever it was, he barely had time to drop it (actually, I think people were grabbing the items right out of his hands) before the crowd forced him backward. As he stumbled back behind the doors, I noticed a look on his face somewhere between amusement and fear. They were ravenous!

I finally saw what it was they were selling: cartons of fried snack-food! I finally understood: It was a feeding frenzy! This revelation was actually more bewildering than anything. Why would you kill yourself over a 50 yen discount on junk food?

The doors swung open again, and I watched carefully to see what the prize was: cartons of cold coffee. This employee was made of stronger stuff and held out as people rushed him. He held a sale sign above his head and called out the price in a loud voice, which seemed so unnecessary as to be comical; it was not as though anything would be left in the next 10 seconds. Nobody was in need of persuasion. People were grabbing 2-4 cartons of the stuff, tucking it under their arms protectively and hunching over as they made their escape, like a milkman turned quarterback. Looking around to another pair of opening STAFF doors, I saw a woman throwing bags of chips over her shoulder, one after another, into a cart directly behind her, clearly a seasoned professional.

After everything was gone, a few people escaped with their prizes of crap food, but the rest remained where they were. They stood posed, right in front of the doors, ready to jump the next person who walked through them. Some of the ladies were pressed right up against the doors, peaking through any available crevice. It was so ridiculously mercenary, I had to take a photo:

Stalking.

Sales are serious business.

Cheers,

full-price Baer

Chef Savant

2010-09-08T17:09:00.007+09:00

During the summer time, it is nearly impossible to escape the fact that I do indeed live in an inaka, countryside, area. The bugs double to the size of mice, the rice fields grow thick and plentiful, and the vegetable gardens on every block are in full bloom. Periodically over the summer, one or two of the school staff would bring in bags vegetables grown in their own garden, primarily potatoes, cucumbers, [the occasional] baby tomatoes, and eggplants. They'd set them up in a little blue box on the table in the back of the teachers' room and leave an empty tin can so the teachers could buy a bag for 100 yen. I almost always buy something.

However, recently, perhaps because they might have come from the school garden, the bags of vegetables have been free. I snatched one immediately when I saw this, and by the end of the day, all the bags were gone. A single bag of eggplants is enough for a week of snacking for me, so the next day, when another free bag was pressed on me, I suddenly found myself with two bags of quickly expiring vegetables.

As my thoughts are want to do when looking for solutions, I thought of Yuki. It would be easy enough to simply give her the extra bag of vegetables, as I usually did. However, I wanted to do something a little more special. Every once and I while she would invite me in for a drink that would turn into dinner. This time I wanted to return the favor and cook for her, as I have a couple of times in the past.

That evening I sent her a text message warning her not to eat, and started cooking. I had gathered some culinary advice

from my teachers on what to cook and took that advice with me to the farmer's market where I bought the rest of my vegetables. I was going to endeavor to make a Japanese style dinner. First I made a sort of stir fry, with small brown mushrooms they are so fond of, as well as tofu, green onion, and, of course, eggplant, with plenty of soy sauce and mirin. Then I peeled the rest of the eggplant, chopped them up with some carrots, chives, and more green onions, and made miso soup. For Yuki, I made sure to also make a bowl of rice for, as I have so often been reminded, no Japanese person can stand to eat any meal without bread or rice. To complete the feast, I made some banana bread, although the only thing Japanese about it was that it was molded in the shape of Rilakkuma.

By the time I was hurriedly shoveling rice into a bowl, Yuki had already arrived. I arranged everything out on the table with chopsticks and even some chopstick rests I had found buried in my kitchen cabinet. She endured with good humor my usual requirement of pre-dinner pictures:

The meal was an unqualified success. Yuki expressed much pleasure and surprise at how well I had prepared an authentic Japanese meal. I blushed and preened and lent my success mostly to the good advice of my teachers and the magic that is soy sauce and mirin. Although it is the Japanese custom (and just general good manners) to call any gift of food "delicious," she seemed quite sincere, if evident only because of her surprise.

Of course after all this praise, I gave her most of the left-overs to take home for Masa, so he could enjoy it too. However, this had less to do with altruism than my desire to spread the news of my culinary success... so that maybe they would remember it next time I failed horribly.

Cheers,

chef Baer

A Sad Day for Gunma

2010-09-01T21:51:00.004+09:00

It's a sad day for Gunma day. Or actually, Friday is, but for me, it's today. Kingsley is going home to Nigeria. It's quite sudden, but his mother is really sick and his family needs him. He said he may come back to Japan, but when and if he does, he has no desire to return to Gunma (but maybe Tokyo).

I'm so sad. Of course I feel badly for him and his family. I wish him hope and luck with his mother... but I am sad myself to lose him. He has been a really good friend to me over the last year, really kind and always ridiculously generous. Most of all though is that we understand each other, you know? There's no BS. We can laugh together, bitch about our jobs together, work together, play together, and it's just... easy to get along. Natural. I think that is pretty rare. Especially for me, I have trouble connecting with people. So. He will be missed.

However!

I did tell him, if they stick me with all his classes at the elementary, I WILL hunt him down and kill him.

...

And that's all I have to say about that.

No 'Cheers' tonight.

Baer

Okinawa Trip posts are UP!

2010-08-24T16:51:00.002+09:00

Hey!

Call me slowpoke, but I finally added the journal entries from the Okinawa trip back in March. If you look at the right side of this window, there is a little section marked "Archive". Click on 2010, then March, and you will see them.

Remember, they are posted in reverse order! So go all the way back to the first post, marked "On my way" and read from there.

Cheers!

Summer Eats

2010-08-17T09:59:00.004+09:00

Summer continues.
I'd forgotten how hot it was. I've dropped 10 pounds since summer started, the incessant heat killing my appetite.

When I do cook, I try to do so at night, when the heat in the aparement is not as intense. I've been cooking a ton of diakon lately. I went to the cheap farmers market near me and, in the corner, found a bag of four diakon on sale for 100yen. What a deal! I've discovered how great diakon is: they are big, cheap, made mostly of water, and take on the flavor of whatever you cook them with. The only trouble is grading them. I liked graded diakon the best, but it takes FOREVER. What I would do for a food processor. So far I've made diakon and onion chicken, diakon and onion "tacos" (the "taco shell" was actually tofu skin, but the taco seasoning was from home), and diakon and onion pancakes.

They sound the same, but they taste very different.

My other farmer's market favorite at the moment is corn. It's about only 80yen per head if I buy it fresh. However, since I'm cheap and don't notice much of a difference in taste, I always wait for them to put out bags of the less-fresh stuff, usually about 3 heads for 100yen. Sure, it's carbs, but it just feels so healthy to knaw away at the cob. Sometimes it's all I will eat for dinner, so I think the carbs are probably a good thing.

I also finally got around to looking up the kanji for "firm tofu". There are a million different kinds at the store, so I usually just buy what is cheap, but man, after trying the firm tofu... I ate the whole block, plain, with just some wasabi flakes, and it was just about the best thing I've had in months (talk about a cheap meal! It's only about 50 yen a block). I felt super guilty for eating the whole thing afterwards, but it was so good... I will have to hide half of it away next time so I am not tempted.

The two other recent food staples in my life are Calipse and azuki ice cream bars. Calipse is this watery milk-based drink that is quite unlike anything I've found outside Japan. It's refreshing and I only buy the zero calorie stuff, so it feels pretty guilt free. Of course I always have Pepsi NEX on hand, but a little variety is nice. The Asuki bars, also very Japanese, are my daily indulgence. Made from red beans, it is cool and sweet, but low fat and low calorie. Having cold food around is absolutely essential in this heat, so I don't feel much guilt about it.

I always have celery on hand too, of course. Yuki thinks it's funny. I get the feeling that celery is not a popular food for Japanese. I love it because it is sweet, but I think that is the kiss of death around here.

Normally, all this talk of food would doubtless make me hungry. However, the air conditioning is broken in the office (and they don't seem inclined to get it fixed) so it is sweltering in here. Actually, that is why this was the perfect time to write this entry; as they say, never go to the grocery store hungry.

Cheers,

sweaty Baer

X Japan Yokohama

2010-08-14T21:10:00.002+09:00

For four years I've been anticipating the chance to see an X Japan concert. Until two years ago, I never thought it would happen; the band has been retired for more than ten years. When they finally reunited, Yoshiki's (the band leader) health problems forced further postponement and disappointment, and I didn't feel anymore hopeful of ever seeing them in person.

Maybe then you can imagine the level of excitement I felt when I heard they were having a concert in Yokohama, a mere three hours away. I usually try to temper my excitement over most things, to lessen the blow of potential disappointment, but there are a few occasions when that is simply not possible: getting into the JET program was one; Miyavi's fanclub trip was another; and X Japan concert more than qualifies.

So, today the day has finally arrived. There were no postponements or cancellations this time, and I think it is safe to give my excitement free rein. Still, there is only so early I think is even human to get up, so I was only able to arrive at the venue now, at 10 AM, about six hours before the doors are supposed to open. This is fine with me, as 5 1/2 hours

seems like enough time to get through any 'Goods' line, even at an X Japan concert.Nonetheless, standing here on an overlooking ramp-way, staring down at the line that is already 1/2 mile long, I laugh helplessly, "Lindsay, meet the next three hours."

As I had made my way to the back of the line, I peaked at the other concert goers that were waiting. Although admittedly I hadn't been able to look to closely, I didn't see a single other foreigner. Fortunate for me the line went faster than expected; It only took 2 hours. As usual, I bought more goods than I planned on, but my bag was fat, and I was happy in the end. I was sorely tempted to buy (shown here worn by an unwitting model) a Yoshiki t-shirt ("Yoshiki、あいしてる！！"), but my wallet, now lighter by about $200, gave me the strength to resist.

I don't think I've ever been so excited for a concert. Then again, I think I always feel this way moments before the start. The difference is, it's still 2 hours 'till the beginning. Maybe it's because I'm already at the venue... but I've been half a day early to concerts before and not felt like this. Maybe it is witnessing the fellow passion of the concert goers, of which there may be 30,000 today. That just might be it. Seeing Japanese fans out in full force is like nothing I've ever seen before. Cosplayers (people who dress in costume as the band members) are so numerous, I've seen Hide, the dead X Japan member, over a couple dozen times. I was sad to see there were not as many Yishikis about, but he is not as fun to cosplay. I even worked up the courage to ask a couple of them for a photo (and clandestinely took the rest).

There is also the fact that we can hear the rehearsal going on in the stadium. The acoustics are so intense, every sound makes the whole building vibrate- an that's just from outside! From inside, I imagine the experience is like being inside an X Japan roller coaster.

I have a feeling I'm about to find out what a REAL concert is like.

---

As it turned out, my roller coaster got trapped behind a large immovable object, mainly, a giant light pole/flame thrower.

I often have that problem: flame throwers getting in my way.

In addition, my seat was on the "2nd Floor," which, in Nissan Stadium, actually translates to the -7th- floor. On the opposite end from the stage. Behind a flamethrower.

...

[...I don't have a roller coaster analogy for that; I'm pretty sure all the seats on those are good.]

I ended up watching the screen the entire concert. When I was able to see actual people, it was mostly as a vague blotch of color or the glinting of a guitar. Really... it was very disappointing. I was at last glad for the screens, which were huge and provided a clear, though annoyingly rotating, video of the band members as they played. They had also rigged up a very clever camera suspended on a cable crossing diagonally over the stadium. This swiveled back and forth, taking video of the fans and flashing it up on screen occasionally. I got super annoyed because they kept showing this large group of foreigners that was RIGHT IN FRONT of the stage. They looked so happy; it pissed me off. They must have been foreigners that bought tickets from overseas (a very thoughtful options they provided for this concert), and thus were given special seating privileges. Bastards.

I did my best to enjoy the concert anyway, despite my seat in Siberia, which wasn't all too difficult given that was an X Japan ("duh"). Seeing an X concert is like having a religious experience. It was why I got into the band in the first place; just watching a video of their Last Live from over 10 year ago had me nearly in tears. Many of my favorite moments from those videos was watching the fans, tens of thousands of them, singing as one. More than anything I wanted to experience that for myself. In this, I was not disappointed. For nearly then minutes, they payed and replayed the song "X", where, in the second half of the song, every line of lyrics is followed by a shout of "X!" and everyone jumps and makes an X with their arms. It's a fast-paced, powerful, guitar driven song, and 30 thousand people jumping at once is alone a sight to see, but to be part of it was really amazing.

The moment I most enjoyed, most anticipated, was the last song of the night, "Endless Rain." The polar opposite of "X", this sweet, sad, slow ballad is gradually taken over by the fans at the end of the song. Long after the song should have ended and Toshi, the band's vocalist, had stop singing, we continued to sing the chorus over and over, completely unaccompanied. You could see the band members standing on stage, just watching us. Toshi's voice, choked with emotion, would occasionally drift out to join ours before drifting away again. Yoshiki alone continued to play with us, bent over his piano as though in anguish, his expression one of pain or ecstasy, but even that sweet, sad melody would drift away as well until there was only us. In those moments, there is such a feeling of connection between the fans, the band, all of us together, it is almost like, as long as we held onto those lyrics, there was no distance between us; We would have gone on signing forever if they'd let us.

Because I know how hard it is for anyone to imagine this experience with merely words, I recorded a portion of us singing. Most of it is in English, so you should be able to understand, if the feedback isn't too terrible. Enjoy.

...forget, all of the hate, all of the sadness

Endless rain, fall on my heart, kokoro no kizu ni

Let me forget, all of the hate, all of the sadness...

Cheers,

living-the-dream Baer

Oban

2010-08-13T08:42:00.004+09:00

Yesterday I went to work and there were only 4 people in the office. Even the Vice-Principal was absent, which is really rare.
Today I came to work and there was only 1 person in the office. When I opened the door, he looked up and was so surprised to see me (or anyone) there, he forwent the usually automatic "ohayo gozaimasu" for something more along the lines of "eeehhhhh??!"
...
It would have been funny, had I been able to turn right around and go home.
No such luck.

I had forgotten until last night that right now it is Oban in Japan.
Oban is a Budhhist holiday where it is believed that the spirits of the family ancestors will return to the family home. To welcome their arrival, everyone (among the living) will return to the family gravesite to pray and offer encouragement to the spirits on their journey. Then everyone goes home and, as it was explained to me by Yuki, stands outside on their doorstep calling to the ghosts so they do not get confused and lose their way.

I haven't seen any crazy looking people calling names into the street, so I have to take her word on that one.

Sometimes, I am told, the spirits may get lost and end up at the neighbor house.
How exactly you know that Uncle Koki from next door is floating around your living room, I have no idea, but apparently it's a bit of a problem.

On the plus side, at least I can borrow a computer with internet while everyone is gone.

Cheers,

Oban-less Baer

There is a rule. [THE END]

2010-08-01T01:32:00.006+09:00

I watched "The Terminal" tonight.

Right after the part with the Russian guy and the goat, the airport authority man gets reamed by his boss for steamrolling over people in his attempt to follow the rules:

"Somtimes you have to ignore the rules. Ignore the numbers and concentrate on the people...Compassion, Frank."

...

I wonder how they translated THAT into the Japanese version.

They probably just cut that part out entirely.

Wouldn't want to confuse anyone with foreign concepts... or worse yet, get ideas.

...Yeah, I'm a little bitter. I admit.

I am really tired of being told something is just impossible because "there is a rule". Even if it means wasting someone's time or health, even if it is wasteful and unnecessary, even if following that rule may cause massive stress and inconvenience for no reason other than for the sake of "the rule". There is apparently zero ability to make a judgement call.

Unbelievable.

angry Baer

Rumble in the Distance

2010-07-27T21:25:00.003+09:00

There is so much I have to tell about,

so many blogs left half written,

but at the moment,

all I can think about is the sound of thunder rumbling outside my window.

It's such a slow, deep, and comforting sound,

and before the rain starts it is kind of like listening to my favorite Johnny Cash song ("Hurt").

The rain gives it a different feel, but it's still peaceful. Even when it's violent and the wind sounds like a raging ocean crashing in midair... it still makes me feel peaceful.

I do love rainstorms.

The weather here has become quite regular and predictable. If you manage to get outdoors at about 6 a.m., you can enjoy a bit of cool air, the last breath of spring. You'd best hurry enjoying it though, because even by 8:25, when I am heading to work, it is already hot enough to make me sweat. The heat and humidity, suffocating in intensity, last all day, without respite, until the sun sets. It's the perfect weather for doing laundry, drying clothes in record time even with the humidly. You'd best be careful not to forget to take it inside though. Once the sun sets, the slow process of cooling off combined with the lingering humidity inevitably gives way to rain storms.

Every night there is a storm, sure as clockwork.

Gives me a reason to like summer.

Cheers,

Thor's Baer

Summer Begins!

2010-07-16T17:39:00.002+09:00

Ah, the official start of summer vacation.

Of course, 'summer vacation' has a very deceptive ring to it, since we still have to go to work everyday, unlike teachers in the States. My new Vice Principal is also, unfortunately, not the kind of man that will just let me leave at lunch... oh how I miss my old VP.

I have started going to watch the kendo club practice once or twice a week. One of the main characters of my favorite manga plays kendo, so it has always had a soft spot in my heart. I've always been fascinated with fencing, but kendo is far difference than the European style of fencing. For one, it is definitely louder, with aggressive yelling and foot stomping, as well as the fact that you win points by smacking your (plastic/bamboo) sword against the other person's HEAD, ha ha. I asked and they said yes: it does hurt and it is scary. They let me try it once, but I couldn't quite make myself hit my student. Fail. I was downgraded to referee after that.

So I guess I can go watch them pretty much full time during the summer... or at least, more often.

In addition to that, there are quite a lot of seminars. My parents are visiting and we are going to Kyoto (tomorrow!) which actually got me out of a couple things, but still there are a lot. Kingsley and I are supposed to be doing our own "New Teacher Training Lesson" which is just... ugh. The entire ordeal has been extremely aggravating, especially since this really isn't part of our job and yet they have still managed to give us exactly zero details on what is expected of us... Believe me, I could go on

-but I wont.

Because I am going to Kyoto tomorrow!!

And I don't want any cracks in my rose colored glass.

Cheers,

summer-fun-time Baer

Update on "The Fake Plant"

2010-07-14T17:44:00.003+09:00

Remember that post I made back in April about the plant I thought might be fake?

Well, I don't think I have watered it since I made that last post...

and it is starting to look depressed...!

It's alive!

IT'S ALIVE!!

(though what kind of freaky robot plant can survive for 3 months without being watered is beyond me)

Recruiting Patriots

2010-07-04T22:55:00.003+09:00

Let's face it.

I'm not really much of a "patriot."

I tend to think of patriotism - a close relative of nationalism - as being an excuse to hate other people.

However, as I've said before and will likely find myself saying again, I've always found that living abroad makes me feel more, well, patriotic. The surest sign that I am experience such an episode is the sudden, inexplicable craving for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. This was a terrible habit that I picked up in Russia; the first time I realized how American PBJs are.

This year, July 4th rolled around and I found myself doing other inexplicable things: mainly, spending waaay too much money buying overpriced powdered sugar to make hand decorated 4th of July cakes, something I've never done in my life:

Although I never got the chance to taste any of these cakes (including the blueberry-covered one, not pictured, that I gave to Yuki and Masa), I was told they were a success. For the sake of my ego and powdered-sugar-pillaged-wallet, I shall choose to assume they were telling the truth.

The holiday was also a good excuse to do something fun and mindless with the 3rd and 4th grades, which I write the lesson plans for. Instead of doing vocabulary, I would give a speech about Independence Day - with lots of pictures! - and then the kids would make their very own American flag. Fun!

Akemi did a wonderful job making the demonstration model:

I had fun making picture cards to use for my speech. I do love to laminate~

Akemi liked the picture cards so much, she asked me to print a copy for herself.

One patriot successfully recruited.

I did my best to try and keep the kids involved in my speech, asking them questions to see how much they already knew. A couple volunteers from each class even demonstrated what an American flag looked like by drawing on the blackboard. I was impressed that some of the kids even knew how many stars and stripes there were!

... I have a sneaking suspicion they were using their geography book to count...

I found some pretty ridiculous pictures of people wearing American Flag print clothing. Did you know there is even an American flag wedding dress you can buy? Man if that isn't redneck....

Sorry Uncle Sam, but you're not invited to my wedding.

It was pretty funny to watch the kids all make their own flag. I liked to think of it as "Recruiting Patriots"; Sounds much better than "brainwashing", doesn't it?

For the sake of time and convenience (you might be amazed to know how long it takes for a 9 year old to cut out a single stripe) , there were only 1-6 stars and anywhere from 5-14 stripes. Is it still patriotic when your American flag might be mistaken for Liberia, Puerto Rico, or even Malaysia? Oops. Maybe recruiting's not my calling after all.

At the end of the class, we had all the kids stand up at the front and show off their new found American pride:

GO Patriots!

...

...wait a minute...

Cheers,

red-and-white-and-blue-all-over Baer

soccer soccer sakkaa

2010-06-25T18:00:00.001+09:00

After reading this article on CNN about jubilation on Shibuya crossing over Japan's victory over Denmark in the World Cup, I thought I would make a short post to say that excitement over this win and the World Cup in general has reach even my small corner of the Japan.

Today at work, one of teachers who is often friendly with me, peaked down over the computers at me and sighed, "I'm tired now. Last night I was watching the World Cup at 3 AM." This generated a small buzz of interest (any mention of the World Cup does) as others put in their 2 cents of Office Conversation. My main teacher/supervisor told me that all the members of her family (except herself) stayed up to watch the game; at 3 AM, even 80 year old Grandma was up cheering for the home team!

One of the teachers who usually keeps quite aloof of me, suddenly, eagerly looked at me and said, "America is doing well!". This piece of information was clearly offered as a rare and precious thing, an olive branch among olive branches.

Unfortunately, other than a mild interest in its political implications, I don't care a wit about the World Cup. I get more satisfaction watching grass grow. Of course, tell this to anyone around here, ALT or Japanese alike, and I get treated to a look akin to if had I just confessed a hobby of mutilating butterflies.

Besides, I am quite at odds over who I am supposed to cheer for. Japan? The US? Even Switzerland has a team, so I can't side with them on the issue of neutrality.

Really, it's quite dilemma.

Cheers,

soccer-less Baer

the samurai in Tokyo

2010-05-30T14:38:00.005+09:00

Yesterday I went to another Miyavi concert, the Finale for his worldwide tour.

I have had my ticket to this concert for months, but by this last week, I was no longer looking forward to it. After spending a small fortune to see Gackt's play last weekend, I was already hurting and had no desire to spend more money on even a cheap hostel in Tokyo. So, I decided I would brave the trains, try to make it home on the last one, and if I missed it... find a clean corner to hang out in until 5 am.

As I was begrudgingly getting dressed for the concert, I heard my email ding. One of my Japanese friends from the Okinawa trip, Wako, had sent me a message on mixi, a Japanese community site I joined shortly after returning from that trip. It was just a short message, reaffirming that I would indeed be at the Tokyo concert later that day. We pinged back and forth and she promised to introduce me to some more fellow fans when I arrived. Finally I felt a little sliver of frisson run through me.

On the nearly three hour train ride, I nursed a pounding headache. Trying not to imagine my brain as a sponge being viscously squeezed, I reviewed my language notes and tried to mentally prepare some structurally sound sentences to give as an offering when I met up with Wako. Vocabulary, however, is my biggest problem, and there wasn't a whole lot I could do about that just then.

The venue was in a hotel in Shinagawa. However, finding the "Stellar Hall/Ball" was ridiculous. After following all the signs I could and still being lost, I heard some other girls wondering aloud where it was and decided to follow them (they saw me doing so and kept glancing at me, obviously amused). When they asked an employee where it was, the woman looked a little flustered, "It's a little difficult to find, so if you'll just follow me..." Difficult to find... downright impossible! Through two hotel wings, corridors of shopping, passed a bowling hall, up two escalators, across a movie theater lobby, and finally into a big room with an indoor carousel, where she still had to point out to us which door to enter. Unbelievable.

Almost immediately after I got there, a few people started to recognize me, with shouts of "Lindsay-san! Hisashiburi!" (Long time no see!) I even ran straight into Kaori, the woman we sat next to on the plane to/from Okinawa. It made me feel really good, although I discovered immediately, and much to my embarrassment, how hopeless communication was. Sigh. I saw no sign of Wako, but I texted her to let her know I was there.

Soon enough we discovered the real line for the concert was actually outside (as if things weren't confusing enough). Once we stepped outside, I was shocked at all the people. Way more than any other concert I have been to. There were so many cosplayers (cosplay= "costume play" - people dressing up to look like the Miyavi), more than I have ever seen. Some were pretty damn good, too.

There was a huge line roped off to one side, but there was just as many people standing out of line as in line. Not to over emphasize my importance, but it seemed like people really noticed my presence. There were several curious glances sent my way, and I know I heard someone saying something about "Americans". I looked up and this guy was looking over his shoulder, staring straight at me with this huge inviting smile on his face. I have never been the object of one of those looks before (at least, not outside the "creepy" category of men) so I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. Suddenly, however, I heard a yell and turned to find Wako rushing toward me. She grabbed me in a big hug and a shout of "Hisashiburi!!", and if I wasn't drawing attention before, we certainly were then.

Wako dragged me up the hill, asking me about my ticket number. I had #76, but when she told me she had #600 something, I was so shocked I thought I misunderstood. We found some of her friends and, as promised, she introduced me (as "the American") and there was a brief frisson of excitement while hands were thrust toward me. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to hang out with them... the door were set to open in not too long. Wako apparently knew someone with a number in the 70s, so we waited around until someone appeared.

I had noticed the cute guy from before had been hovering around just outside our circle, and when the others left, he came over to join us. I was (and still am) a little confused about whether or not he actually knew either Wako or the other girl whose name I never did catch, but I am pretty sure he didn't... As it turned out however, he was #70, so the three of us trotted off together to find our place in line.

I have to say... standing in line with them was actually just a little bit horrible for me, because I could not put a sentence together to save my life. I was totally hopeless and know I had to have looked at least as twice as stupid as I felt, which is saying a lot. I did discovered that the doe-eyed boy's name was Jun, he was 18 (>>;;;), a first year in college studying English, Japanese, and history. Other than being a little young, he seemed like a dead ringer for me, wouldn't you say? Yeah... to bad I couldn't TALK! Ugh, it pains me even now...

Skipping ahead to the beginning of the concert... I was able to snag a place in front of the microphone, in the 3rd (sometimes 2nd, sometimes 4th) row. I was so excited I jumped around with glee and my companions laughed at my silliness. However, once the concert started, I found out what I had not seen before because I am so damn short; There were actually 3 microphones set up center stage... and I was not in front of the main one. A bit disappointing, but honestly... it was just SUCH AN AMAZING concert, I almost didn't care that much.

The sound in the venue was just so good, you could hear everything, not just noise.. and it made all the difference. Miyavi was fantastic, but he always is, so the good sound was really what tipped the scales. He was pretty energetic. He even did a little upside down backward playing-over-the-neck trick that I love so much. Because it was the finale, he also treated us to another new song, called "Super Mother Fucker Bitches". Yeah, I'm not crazy about the name. I definitely rolled my eyes when he said it. The song was super fast, but unremarkable. The only really funny part was how he kept emphasizing the name, saying it once in English, then in Japanese (a.k.a English with a Japanese accent), and then one more time after the song had ended.

I did think it was really cute how he called his little three man band, "a fucking samurai trio." (fyi, he is often called the "samurai guitarist")

After two hours, the show was over. I really wanted to stay and talk/hang out with my friends, but I really had to catch that last train. Fortunate for my quick escape, the hotel was pretty close to the station. More fortunate than that, I discovered, was my own good sense of direction, as I am pretty certain, without it, I could have missed my train just trying to find my way out of the building. As it was, I all but bounded down the stairs and hurried just below a run until I made it safely to my train's platform. The entire ride home, every time I successfully caught a connection, I was repeating in my head like a mantra, "I'm gonna make it home, I'm gonna make it home!" Yeah. I really didn't want to be stranded until the first train.

So, all and all, it was really amazing. I was so so SO glad I went. I glowed the rest of the night, and sang encore in the shower.

kekeke.

Cheers,

382 Baer

Yokohama Coffee

2010-05-04T09:56:00.003+09:00

I wish I could blog a smell.

I went to this really amazing coffee shop today in Yokohama over the Golden Week weekend. I was walking toward it and the smell... It just wafted over me from a block away, and if I hadn't just arrived at a stop light anyway, I think i would have stopped right where I stood, just to take a moment to breath it in.

It was no ordinary coffee scent. The store, whose banner outside read "coffee makes friends throughout the world", was a coffee paradise inside. A corner to the left of the door was entirely covered with wooden bucket of coffee beans from around the world. I remember thinking I really wished my father could see it. I saw beans from Peru, Brazil, Tanzania, Hawaii, and Mexico... The more exotic ones I cannot even remember. Behind this impressive collection was a counter covered in very antique looking (thought they could have been top of the line for all I know) bean rosters, the source of that heavenly smell. If one could bottle a smell, not like perfume but like fireflies, that would be the scent I'd choose to catch. As it was, I could only order a few fresh roasted bags for gifts and enjoy a cup of coffee while I waited.

I think the owner was offended at the speed with which I finished my cup. As good as it was, I guess I haven't learned the art of slow savoring.

Cheers,

Yokohama coffee Baer

Funny Little Moments: Teacups

2010-04-30T10:04:00.005+09:00

There are funny little things I notice in my office. I don't know that they are necessarily exclusive to Japan, but I highly doubt there are many other places where a lower peon, such as myself, is constantly having their coffee cup refilled by others.

Of course, when I say "coffee cup", I really mean "teacup"—"Alice in Wonderland" always comes to mind with those word—for green tea is truly a staple of Japanese life. The teacups were one of the first things to come to my notice. Primarily, that everyone has a "teacup personality."

I seriously doubt that when my coworkers were choosing a mug to use at work, they realized they were making a defining decision of their professional experience.

As I often used to help the tea lady gather the cups and distribute tea, I became familiar with which cup belonged to whom. After a while, the cups cease being merely and object of a certain teacher; they became a very representation of them, an avatar, if you will.

"Ah," I say, lifting the large blue Mickey Mouse and Friends mug, "Abe-sensei is here today."

Similarly, when a cup is missing from the collection pool at lunch, or conspicuously absent from a teacher's desk, I get the chance to work in a little trivial Office Conversation. "So, Sato-san is not here today, eh?"

My old Principal and Vice Principal had no decorations on their cups. Theirs were simple, delicate, maybe a little elegant, but mainly plain. Yet these men, especially the Principal, whose smile made him a favorite among the students, were very kind, jovial, generous men. It was as if, by choosing understated tea cups, they were saying, "I may be a friendly man by nature (and I'm not afraid to show it), but I am also an important and professional representative of this school (so please respect the fact that I left my Mickey Mouse cup at home)."

Honestly, it's kind of a lot to say for a little cup that is barely 3 inches tall. Wouldn't you say?

Cheers,

tea lady Baer

Accidental Acquaintances

2010-04-28T17:29:00.001+09:00

Quite a few surprising moments lately. I was riding my bike toward my apartment and suddenly this man in his driveway steps out and says "Hello! Hello!" very insistantly, so I stopped and said hello. He tell me that he knows my neighbor, Masa, and was once a student of his at his English school. We bond in silence on this shared friendship for a moment and then he suddenly asks me, "Can I introduce my daughter to you right now?" I'm awkwardly propped up on my bike in my middle of the street, but what can I say except "sure!" He runs inside. Somehow I was expecting a young girl, maybe a future JHS student, but a much older woman comes out and I am quite surprised. She comes over and speaks to me in very good English, explaining that she just returned from Vancouver, and she wanted to improve her English in order to apply for his Master's Degree in the United States. Wouldn't I please be her friend? I respond enthusiastically and invite her over to my apartment for English conversation. We exchange information and I am once again on my way home.

Wow! What a surprise that was! You never know what will happen. I was so pleased with making a new friend, I cleaned my whole apartment, ha ha.

It has been raining quite a lot. I used to love the rain but not having a car has me beginning to hate it. Having to ride my bike to the store and to work and to ANYWHERE in the rain is like throwing a cat in the bathtub. So I was quite pleased when it it was no longer raining by the time I left work today. I went home and was going to clean my bathroom, but... I had a rather bad experience with spiders and all I wanted was to get away from my apartment, which I was really unhappy with at that moment. So I went for a walk. A long walk. I don't know how long, but I found some places I hadn't noticed before.

When I had almost reached home again, I saw an old couple with a boy and two babies, presumably their grandchildren. I smiled my hello, but to my surprise the woman called out to me. She asked if I recognized her, and after I moment, I had a vague recollection of doing so, last year during Sports Day. She was a friend of my landlord and a JHS teacher that had just retired that year, Mrs.K.

When she saw I was headed home, she called out to her husband and told him to turn around, as they had been going to opposite direction. She spoke to me for a while, or attempted to, but we didn't get far in conversation. To my great surprise, she asked me if I had plans for dinner, and when I said I did not, invited me to their house. I was shocked but very happy at the unexpected offer, and accepted as warmly as I could. I went home to clean up and quickly look up some important phrases like "Thank you for inviting me into your home" (a phrase I don't think I mastered at all) and then walked to their house from my apartment. It was literally right around the corner, 5 minutes on foot, tucked behind a wall facing the rice fields where I like to run.

The older couple I'd met lived with their daughter, her husband, and the three grandchildren that had been out walking with Mr and Mrs.K. Her daughter was making curry at the stove, with one baby on her hip, when I walked in. I sat down next to Mr.K. He also works in education, formerly a teacher, but currently in administration. Unlike his wife, he actually spoke some English, so we got a little farther in conversation. When I refused the offer of beer, he got excited about opening a bottle of wine instead. I'm only slightly more fond of wine than beer, but tried my best to imbue enthusiasm for the bottle he quickly produced. He was very proud of it, making sure that I had the opportunity to look at the label (which I examined studiously, though all I can remember is "something red from California, 2009"), before pouring too much in a glass and offering it to me.

The dinner was nice, if a little awkward due to lingual barriers. I had my iPod/translator ready at my fingertips, but it can only do so much. The entire family was very nice, very patient and forgiving of my bad Japanese. We talked about my family, their family, and the daughter's husband showed me pictures from his trip traveling abroad. For once, I welcomed the presence of children. The two twin babies were a bit pitiful, constantly crying at the slightest provocation, as well as, I suspect, being a little sick with matching colds. However, they did provide a wonderful, neutral distraction for our wandering attention. I think I might have easily have gone completely unremarked in the little world of the three children if not for the video games. When we had finished eating, the older boy invited me to play on his Nintendo Wii with him. Being as he was only about 5 years old, he wasn't daunted by my lack of language skills at all, which was a nice comfort to me! Very little conversation was required once the game was turned on other than "you can do it!" , "go, go, go!" , "oh, too bad.." , "great job!" , "champion!!" and "ah, that was fun", all of which I could handle without a problem. Once we started playing it turned into a family affair, and by the end of the night, I think everybody but Mr. and Mrs. K had had a turn playing Super Mario. I for one learned how important it is to let children win - more a matter of self-preservation than anything else.

Mr. K walked me the 15 steps home to my apartment. It was a lovely, confusing, utterly unexpected turn of events... but I was warmly pleased that I had gotten the opportunity to be a part of a regular Japanese family night... very much like any family I might know at home.

Cheers,

makin' friends Baer

I've been watering a fake plant

2010-04-03T23:57:00.005+09:00

I have two plants in my apartment. They were both here when I got here, the only bit of personality the place had. I like having them around, little flags of life.

I've always been pretty impressed because they have lived quite well despite my inattention. Even if I forget to water them for a month, they survive. My kind of plants.

Still, their longevity was getting kind of suspicious. I finally took a good look at them. I know the little one is real, because I have pulled dead leaves off it numerous times. The other one has passed my cursory inspection several times, but yesterday, with nothing better to do, I gave it a thorough inspection.

The truth is, I honestly can't tell if this is a real plant. However, I have a sneaking suspicion I have been watering a fake plant for 8 months.

Hell, I think even my mother watered it when she was visiting (are you reading this, Mom?).

...honestly, I feel like I should keep watering it. I wouldn't want to kill it if it really isn't fake.

...

how ridiculous is that?!

What a riot.

the culprit

Cheers,

dense and confused Baer

P.S. I know I owe an entry on Okinawa. I am typing it up, so look for it soon.

P.P.S. By the way, if you want to watch the news clip from when my friends and I were on Gunma TV in January, I've uploaded the file for download online. You can find a link in my Gunma TV post.

In Okinawa w/ Miyavi - Exit Scene

2010-03-29T11:04:00.002+09:00

11am

OMGOD! We got an AMAZING parting gift~!!

This morning, we all had to check out by 10am, but afterward, everyone milled about, taking group picture after group picture. We were all a little loathe to say goodbye and end our lovely vacation.

Eventually though, they called us to the buses, and we had to say goodbye to our hotel. As we were slowly pulling away from the front of the hotel, the tour lady stood at the front and told us we were all getting a little extra gift: a little hand mirror with the event written on the front. Everyone was very excited about this. As she kept talking, I noticed that the bus had turned the wrong direction, however I was distracted by the lady, who was still talking. There was a second surprise for us... Miyavi had made a personal video for us! A round of happy shrills went up, as we anticipated our private viewing.

One of the women from Miyavi's entourage took over from the tour lady and directed our attention to the TV set at the front of the bus. Clicking a button with flare, she said "Start!"

...

but nothing happened. She sort of tapped the TV, violence being the usual form of persuasion electronics respond to, and tried again. "Start!"

...

Nothing happened...

THEN SUDDENLY!!

The doors of the bus FLEW OPEN-

and MIYAVI HIMSELF walked onto our bus!!!

OMG! We all screamed!! We had been so distracted we did not even notice that the bus had stopped moving. Then suddenly he was just THERE, like the realization of a waking dream. Rosie and I were sitting in the 3rd row, so he was super close to us~! My heart swelled in my chest, sure to explode at any moment.

He didn't say anything for a moment, doubtless made quite speechless by a bus full of fans shrieking in his face, although that is probably a pretty familiar feeling for him. After a moment of letting us soak up his presence, he asked (Jap) "Did you have fun last night?" Of course we yelled out that we had! "You guys were totally fired up!" More cheering arose, quite a feat considering I think we all had our hearts in our throats. My eyes raked over him, taking in every detail, trying to memorize every second of this, our last moments together. I got the feeling he was doing the same thing, gazing at all of us, his 'family', and soaking up our presence as surely as we were soaking up his. Then he smiled and waved, exiting the bus. We all got up on our tip toes to peer over one another out the windows and watch him go. Instead of immediately leaving, he walked slowly around the bus and waved at everyone...

What can I say to express this feeling! It was SO wonderful, SO exciting-!! So, so... PERFECT an end to our trip. I think we had all been thinking it would be nice to see him one last time, off stage, just for us... and he gave us that. I was very appreciative of him for that.

Yes... thank you Miyavi.

The next couple of days, Rosie and I received another gift of sorts from Miyavi.

As soon as I arrived home from the airport, I immediately went online to the fanclub webpage to see if he had updated his blog. He had. He mentioned (in Eng.) that he had been pleasantly surprised to see us, the two foreigners, on the trip. He said he hoped we had had a good time and that we had made lots of Japanese Co-Miyavi friends.

Naturally I was over the moon to have received what amounted to a personal message on his blog. I immediately wrote back (via Comments) to assure him (in a mix of English and Japanese) that we had had a wonderful time, had met some really great people, and also to express how much I appreciated his bon voyage. I noticed that later, Rosie also posted a similar response to the same blog.

The next day, I checked his blog again and found he had updated it... with another personal message to us! He wrote that he was glad to hear we had had a good time.

Really, it was amazing to see evidence that he actually reads our comments and hell, he even wrote back! I felt like a million bucks. I floated on that cloud for days.

Really, being a foreigner in Japan has serious perks!!

CHEERS TO THE MOST AMAZING ADVENTURE YET!!

Co-Miyavi-FOR-LIFE Baer

In Okinawa w/ Miyavi - Sharks and Music

2010-03-28T09:00:00.013+09:00

9:00 AM - Aquarium

Looks kind of like the complex in Jurassic Park, doesn't it?

The next day, both Rosie and I and most of our little group of new friends went with a large group to the Okinawa aquarium. The aquarium is apparently quite famous in Japan, and every person I spoke to before the tour expressed a desire to visit it. It took about 1 1/2 hours to get to the there by bus.

The aquarium was located in its own park, beatifully manicured, downwardly situated so that the sea just seemed to open up before you. At the bottom of this hill/park, was the aquarium, with a statue of a swimming shark propped up outside. It was HUGE! I couldn't wait to see the real thing. Once inside the complex, the view of the beach was absolutely spectacular. We took our time walking through and seeing what there was to see. However, the real draw of the aqarium was the sharks. There was little doubt of when we had arrived in the area of the central tank: every railing, staircase, and floor overflowed with people.One entire wall was taken up with the thick glass of the tank. Inside there was smaller fish, massive mantas, and a couple of the huge sharks. When they swam low enough, it was truly impressive to see how large they were in comparison to the people in front of the glass. We stood for quite a while to admire them, then went down to get a closer look.

It was pretty sad to think how small the tank was, how like a prison it must feel to them. I

suppose whales often have to endure this sort of cruelty, but it was the first time for me to see it done to a large shark. It was certainly amazing, though.

Down by the beach we watched a dolphin show. It was pretty funny, actually. They invited a family up on stage, mother, father, little daughter. As they were walking along a very narrow, slippery part of the stage raised stage, the mother slipped and fell right into the dolphin tank. It was quite scary/exciting, but then she came flying out of the water on the dolphin's nose and the joke was up; she was a trainer. I was happy to have fell for the trick. Other than that, it was kind of sad to watch. The tank was incredibly tiny. I kept thinking of how non-existent animal rights are in Japan. I know Rosie was thinking about it too, or something similar.

We had fun altogether though. On the way back to the bus, we all stopped in the restroom to check ourselves out before heading to the live house for the concert. We took a group picture in front of the mirror:

Sometime Later - HUMAN STAGE Live House

We arrived at the live house a couple hours early. Everyone flew off the bus and immediately got in line for the goods, which were set to open up in half an hour. We occupied ourselves chatting and watching Miyavi's videos on Rosie's iPod. We asked around to see who had what number and found out, while I had #2, two of the other girls in our group plus their roommates made up #3,4,5! Amazing! Poor Rosie was much farther back in line, but it was a pretty tiny live house, so I hoped that would work in her favor. As we curled along the sidewalk to the venue doors where the goods were, we saw the sign for the concert; it was sold out! Go Miyavi!!

After gorging ourselves on goods, we headed back to the bus to drop off our stuff and take a breather. Soon enough, we headed back out again to get in line for the show. I was absolutely vibrating with nervous energy. It was somewhat disconcerting to stand in the #2 spot. We were all lined up on the sidewalk, parallel to the venue. Where I stood in front, with all the other low numbers behind me, I had to stare across the open space at the 2nd half of the line, the high numbers, that lined up directly across from us. Made me feel really guilty, like all those people not only must hate me for being in front, but for being a foreigner too. Sorry! I tried not to look at them.

Once inside the venue, I found a space on the bar to wait. The two oldest women in our fanclub tour (meaning, they could have been mothers to some of the other fans there) ended up standing next to me. Turns out they were actually from Gunma too, Maebashi, and had been excited yesterday at the dinner party when they heard I lived in Gunma. Small world!

The concert itself was pretty good, but already I can't remember what happened. It was a little less exciting than expected, however. All my previous interactions with him had left me with such high expectations, I was let down more than I otherwise would have been. It was clear that Miyavi was trying to devote his attention at this concert mostly to the local Okinawa fans, who were all in back. I could appreciate that though, and was just enjoying being up close and personal again. This being the first live in the tour, he was pretty energetic but didn't have much room to move around on the tiny stage. He played a couple new songs. My absolute favorite moment of the night was his new song "Gravity". This song was unlike anything I've ever heard him play. A very dark song, he sang at first unaccompanied by his guitar, so you were focused totally on the sound of his voice, then suddenly the guitar would just CRASH down.... it truly felt like his heart was breaking, his world was coming apart, so much pain, anger, and confusion was contained in his voice. It made my heart ache just to hear it. I was amazed that anyone could so acutely replicate those emotions... The whole time I wondered what memory he could possibly be feeding from to fule such soul wrenching vocals. I found out later that he had said what it was in the intro, but I had been unable to hear; the song was about his reaction to the news of Michael Jackson's death, a major idol and inspiration to him.

That one song is really what made the whole concert. I can't even remember the rest except for, at one point, he was in the middle of a song and suddenly just stopped playing. I thought he was going to tune his instruments or some such thing. Then he spoke in a steely no-nonsense voice, staring straight into the back of the room, and asked someone to stop taking pictures and put their camera away. From the fact that he said all of this in English, then asked "Where are you from?" (I didn't hear the answer) I gathered that the offender must have been a foreigner. Then he added that he just wanted everyone to enjoy the concert. He wasn't mean about it, but his tone made it clear that this was not something he was happy about (he has always been crystal clear on his opinion of cameras in his concerts). Having your idol give you a crushing, disappointed glare... I wondered who could be stupid enough to want to risk such a thing. Gods, I hadn't even done anything and it was hard to bear the feeling of his disappointment. Obviously whoever was the offender was not really much of a fan, or they couldn't have endured that.

After the concert was over, we all slowly filed our way out. While I was waiting for my friends, this white chick comes up and starts talking to me. It struck me that she must have been the idiot with the camera since she was the only other obvious foreigner there beside Rosie and myself. Needless to say, we didn't encourage conversation.

All and all, it was a really fun day. The saddest part was that the concert marked the end of our trip. Tomorrow we would be flying back to Tokyo. No more Miyavi. Even still riding the high from the concert, I couldn't forget that sad fact...

In Okinawa w/ Miyavi - Dinner Party

2010-03-27T18:30:00.000+09:00

7:15am - Hotel Ahoy!

Southern Beach Hotel & Resort

We made our way to the hotel. The tour guide gave us a running description of the surrounding area, only a little of which I was able to catch. Apparently there was some bragging over Okinawa's being the first to have an A&W Restaurant... with American sizes! She challenged everyone to try root beer, which I was horrified to discover was a total unknown, even to Rosie.

At the hotel, Rosie and I were, as predicted, roomed together. The room was nice and overlooked the shipping harbor on one side of our little hotel peninsula. Still with hours to go before the night's event, we decided to go check out the beach. We fetched Uchiko from her single room and went exploring. I was a little surprised at what we found. I guess I had been expecting a long, wide, sweeping beach like those found in Florida... instead, there was a small beach created behind the cover of a rocky alcove. Still, it was very cute and would have been sufficient for a nice swim... except both the beach and the park next to it had been completely over taken by a soccer camp, and small boys covered ever inch like ants. Still, there was enough room on the sidewalk to take a stroll and admire the incredibly blue water.

6:30pm - Dinner and a Show

That night the dinner part began. Unable to wait, everyone was hovering about the entrance to the ballroom, eager to catch our first glimpse of Miyavi. While Rosie and I stood waiting, an older woman came over with her daughter, who was about 13. For some reason, I had an absolutely impossible time understanding either of them, though Rosie was able to catch more than I did. Completely oblivious to my uncomprehending stare, they did not attempt to slow or modify their speech for my benefit and I was left feeling quite stupid. I avoided them after that.

They started letting us into the dinner just as we were all biting at the bit. First they checked our name off a list, then sent us to another table, where we had to pick an assigned seat number randomly out of a blind box. Then there was another blind box filled with white envelopes containing convert tickets for the following day. I nervously picked one and went inside the ballroom to find my seat. It turned out my seat was nearest to the door, facing but farthest away from the stage where Miyavi would be. Counting the tables, I saw that instead of 40 people, there were actually 80 people on our tour! Looking at the people at my own table, I realized I had already met the girls immediately to my right and left. The one to my left was Kato, whom I had first met at Haneda Airport. We exchanged excited greetings. I turned to my right and the girl, whose name I cannot remember, gave me a little finger wave and said hello. She was an extremely odd individual. She had a slow and pouty way of speaking that made her seem both petulant and disturbed, like she might just as soon stab you in the back as give you a hug. I maintained polite conversation with her but remained wary, as one is with any unfamiliar animal.

It wasn't until this girl asked what number I had gotten that I remembered the white envelope with the concert ticket. Opening it, I nearly fell out of chair: I was #2 !!!!!!

Once everyone was settled in their seats, the doors closed, and Miyavi came out on stage from behind a partition. Everyone cheered and clapped with excitement. He looked amazing, dressed in simple black pants, black sports coat, with a black graphic tank underneath showing off the tattoos on his collar bone, as well as his Bluetooth in his ear, and graphic black trucker hat parked on his half-shaved head. From magazine photos I thought his hair was white, but it was actually bleached blond, the "samurai" ponytail that he so hated was hanging from the back of the hat, dangling with strands of black extensions. Only Miyavi can pull off wearing a trucker hat.

After basking for a moment in our adoration, he greeted us and talked for a bit about I don't know what. I occupied myself with admiring him, although, from my seat in the back, I couldn't really tell when he was looking at ME. Right before he was about to go off stage, he said something I didn't hear. Suddenly everyone in the room had turned and was looking at me. Apparently he had spoken directly to me (I found out later it was "Are you a foreigner?") and I hadn't even known. How embarrassing. He switched to English when I didn't reply (for Miyavi's English is very good), and asked "Where are you from?" When I told him 'Texas' (because everyone knows Texas, even if they don't know WHERE in the US it is), he repeated it with awe, then switched back to Japanese: "Is there another [foreigner]?" Rosie's table was right next to the stage, and she raised her hand. He repeated the question, and she replied, "Greece,: which he had a really painfully hard time pronouncing. His curiosity satisfied for the moment, he told everyone to enjoy our meal and then departed back behind the partition.

I must say... the food was actually not very good at all, ha. Composed entirely of meat and fish, with no vegetables, I felt bad for the vegetarian/vegan at our table whom could eat nothing at all. Still, when Miyavi came back on stage and asked us how the meal was, there was really only one answer possible. Joining him on stage was another staffer, who held a blind box full of our previously submitted questionnaires. One at a time Miyavi pulled out 5 or so questionnaires and answered questions from each. Although obviously unintentional, it was weird and irritating that almost every question came from only two tables. As he spoke, he looked around at everyone. Although there were 80 of us and not the promised 40, there were still few enough people that he could look at everyone individually. He noticed a girl at my table, sitting across from me, was watching the stage with a pair of binoculars. The room wasn't THAT big, so he burst out laughing, "What, you think you're at Tokyo Dome?" She blushed furiously and everyone laughed. It was pretty funny. I had been thinking something similar.

Just before Miyavi moved on to the last question, he looked at Rosie:

Miyavi: (Japanese) "Do you understand [what we are talking about]?" (English) "Do you

understand?"
Rosie: (Jap) "Yes, a little."
Miyavi: (Jap) "So you can speak in Japanese?"
Rosie: (Jap) "Yes."
Miyavi turned and looked back in my direction:
Miyavi: (Jap) "And you?"
Me: *holds up two fingers close together to indicate a small amount*
Miyavi: (Jap) "Ah, a little. Maybe someone at your table will explain for you."
To my left, Kato's hand shot in the air, eager to be acknowledged, but he only nodded.

The box with the questions disappeared and another box took its place, along with a large shopping bag. Present Time! I won’t regale you with exact details, but suffice it to say that a few very lucky people were randomly selected to receive items that had either been owned or worn by Miyavi at some point, including two crazy suits that must have been used in photo shoots, a black leather briefcase (complete with tear from where his wallet chain got caught on it), a couple cool t-shirts, and a Le Sportsac carry-on-sized bag. Once again, it was the same two tables that somehow got selected for almost every gift, including people that had had their questions answered. Supremely annoying. Even Miyavi remarked on it.

After all the presents were distributed to their delirious recipients, we took a brief break. I scurried over to Rosie's table to compare notes. She explained some things I had missed. Sitting so much closer to the stage, she said Miyavi had some frightening expressions! I didn't know what that meant, but it was pretty funny. Must be all that eyeliner he wears.

Moments later, Miyavi returned with a trio of staffers, setting up for a mini acoustic live. I had not expected this and was instantly elated. As he was tuning up and testing out some chords, he looked up in my direction:

Miyavi: (Jap) "Is that good?"
Me: [thinking: "Is he talking to me?"] *gives him a thumbs up*
Miyavi: [apparently unsatisfied] (Eng) "Is that good?"
Me: "Very good!"
Miyavi: (Jap) "So, are you living here?"
Me: "In Gunma!"
Miyavi: "Gunma?!"

He said it was such surprise I thought I had mispronounced it or misunderstood. The room in general seemed amused by this response, though I am not sure why even now...

Just to be sure, I decided to clarify:
Me: (Jap) "I'm an English teacher!"
Miyavi: (Jap) "An English teacher?!" He repeated among the general awe.
Miyavi: (Eng) "So, you're and English teacher, eh?" He turned to the room at large and waved

to indicate everyone sitting in the rest of the room, (Jap) "You Co-Miyavi-chan's

need to go learn English from her!"
Everyone laughed. My heart about exploded from my chest.

He strummed a few more out on his guitar, then turned to Rosie;
Miyavi: (Jap) "Why are you in Japan?"
Rosie: "Just visiting."

I couldn't hear this exchange from the back so later when she told me this is what she said, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe she would miss the chance to have a conversation with him. I asked her, "Why didn't you tell him the truth?! You came here to see HIM!" He would have loved to hear that. But, she said that he made her nervous; his un-diverted attention was too intimating. I could certainly sympathize with that. I discovered myself how intense he was up close at the concert last December.

The mini-live was really really good. I could have happily sat there for the rest of the nice and watching and listening to him play. I looove~ acoustic guitar, and he is especially good at it.

He played three songs:
1. Senior Senior Senorita
2. [New Song]
3. Ashita, Tenki Ni Naare.

After the acoustic live, there was a break followed by the "2 shot", a.k.a. a one-on-one photo shoot with The Man himself. When it was my turn to take the photo, I walked into the cubicle and he gave me the most satisfying looking of recognition, I doubt I will ever forget it. There were two things I noticed this first time standing in front of him on equal footing: he was really tall(!!) and had really straight, white teeth (not exactly standard among Japanese, I've noticed...). I was a total geek of course and told him, "You're my hero," which was super EXTRA awkward because there was no time for him to respond before we immediately took the picture. Sufficient recovered, he then turned to me and said his standard line in English, "Thank you so much. I hope you have fun tomorrow [at the live]," and shook my hand.

I bounced away laughing gleefully.
...
Okay, maybe not, but that's why I did on the inside. From the amused expression of the staffer near the exit, I think it was somewhat obvious.

In Okinawa w/ Miyavi - Meet, Greet, Walk, Eat

2010-03-27T10:02:00.001+09:00

10:02pm - Arrival

Oh man, so much to tell!

After we got off the plane, we met everyone in the arrival lobby. I was the first one out since I didn't have any checked bags, and it was so funny; when I walked up to the staffer with the C.W.I.F. sign, she immediately said, "Upton Lindsay-san?"

Ha ha, yeah, I don't stand out at all!

After getting our badges, Rosie and I hovered together near the large fish tank dominating one side of the lobby. Everyone on the trip was wearing the same red lanyard, so it was clear who we were with, but, at first, no one was brave enough to come over and talk to us. I spent the time observing the Japanese fans. I noticed that most of the girls had already broken off into little groups. I wondered if they all knew each other already or were just fast at making friends. Everyone seemed pretty young, but at the same time, it was almost impossible for me to tell the difference between the 19 year old and the 26 year olds. I would guess that my own age of 23 was probably a good average. The styles everyone wore varied slightly, but it was safe to say that "punk" was the general theme. Some were cheap punk, cute punk, a little SexPot Revenge thrown in here and there, and even one girl with real taste, looking like she had Atelier Pier on under her buff leather jacket. Of course, there were some people in regular street clothes, like myself, but the Japanese ability to make a t-shirt look stylish meant everybody looked pretty good.

Eventually one of the girls ventured over, Polaroid camera in hand, and asked us for take a picture for a fan project. She explained that she would take our picture and we were supposed to write a note on it for Miyavi, ostensibly to give to him as a gift. Having given these instructions in hurried Japanese, clearly thinking we wouldn't understand anyway, she was really amazed when we not only understood what she had said, but were able to reply in kind. From around us, I heard a couple girls (who had been eavesdropping from a safe distance) exclaim in surprise. The foreigners could speak!

After we took our picture, we were suddenly surrounded by a little crowd of curious girls no longer worried about testing their high school English. I found several hands thrust unceremoniously toward me - sometimes without even following it up with an introduction! - like shaking our hand was enough of an experience all it's own. Clearly, they were fascinated by us. It was pretty cute and funny, and most of all made me feel much better about the upcoming days.

We all got on the tour bus after that. I was amused to see that we had assigned seats, but I suppose that made it easier for the tour guide to keep track of us. Of course Rosie and I were sitting together, luckily at the front of the bus. What a pleasant surprise it was to see the the tour packet left on our seats for us had been hand translated into English! It seems that the tour company had actually listened to my request (for a little linguistic assistance). More than that, after everyone had loaded onto the bus and the guide gave rapid directions in Japanese, she came over and knelt by our seats and explained in the best English she could what was going on. I appreciated it immensely. I did try and keep up with what was being said in Japanese, and Rosie was much better at understanding than I, but most of it was too fast paced and outside of my vocabulary.

(the girls, at the entrance of Kokusai Dori)

Our first stop on the tour was the main street of Naha, Kokusai Dori, International Street. I soon discovered that the only thing really international about this street was the international success of "tourist crap", which made up almost every store on the street that were not restaurants: "Come and buy this traditional Okinawan gift: a dancing toy robot cat! (Made in Taiwan)".

Yeah.

Sometimes I wonder and worry that I will one day make it to Egypt and standing right smack dab in front of the Sphynx will be a guy in a in a lean-to selling T-shirts that say "I climbed the pyramids to heaven and all I got was this stupid T-shirt."

...

Is nothing sacred anymore?

Anyway, I digress. Rosie and I attached ourselves to the group of girls that we had shaken hands with at the airport. Rosie knew at least one of them from the Japanese community site, mixi, a girl named Uchiko/Chika. She was an incredibly sweet girl, keeping pace with the two of us, making conversation, and always making sure we didn't get left behind.

After walking the length of the entire street, browsing our lunch choices, we finally decided on a cute-looking Japanese place with an appetizing (no sarcasm intended) display of wax food out front. On entering, I immediately felt as though I had fallen back a century, the entire room made of miles of dark wood typical of pre-WWII Japanese architecture (before fire bombs), complete with wooden cubbies for us to place our shoes before stepping onto the raised floor.

As an angry looking oba-chan (old lady) ushered us to a small nook toward the back, I observed an indoor window to one side, lined with old Japanese wine bottles, and covered by a curtain of dangling business cards browned with age. The small room we'd been led to was cute, small, and private, only with enough room for one table in the corner and our own long table toward the front, where we sat on floor cushions. Wether by truth or design, the entire place had a very authentic feel. This was somewhat amusingly juxtaposed by having colorful plastic menus thrust in our face.

Fortunately, choosing something to order wasn't very difficult this time. Okinawa is famous for goya, a Japanese vegetable that I love. It is long, green, spiked, and frightening, looking a bit like a poisonous cucumber. Rather suitable to its appearance, it is extremely bitter, making it (along with natto and ume-boshi) a difficult food for even some Japanese to eat. Cooked with pork and tofu, it is called goya-chanpluu, a speciality on our colorful plastic menus - and what I immediately ordered.

Another specialty of Okinawa was apparently pig. I say "pig" instead of "pork" because they don't just eat the meat, but ever part of the animal, as far as I could tell. When our food arrived, we each had our own little tray with about 5 things on it: main course, rice, soup, sweet tofu (desert), and and an indistinguishable brown curl of something in a bowl in the corner of each tray. I poked at the curl and tentatively tried a bite. It was not so tastey. I noticed that the other girls at my table gave it a look of distaste as well. I asked what it was. They said something in Japanese, and I only caught the first word. Rosie translated: "Pig ear." Eck.

After lunch we hurried back to bus after buying loads of omiyage for the office. On our way, I noticed a disturbing representation of Okinawa's speciality propped up on the sidewalk, no doubt as a tourist attraction: a decapitated pig's head on a stick. It was like a misplaced nightmare from "Lord of the Flies", a reference neither my Japanese nor Greek companions were able to appreciate. I wish I'd gotten a picture of it.

In Okinawa w/ Miyavi - Departure

2010-03-27T07:15:00.008+09:00

7:15 am - Departure

By the time I got to my hotel last night, I was no longer nervous. Once I got away from home, it was like cutting the cord. I just had to let go.

I got up this morning at 5am and caught a free bus from my ho
tel to Haneda Airport. It wasn't strictly necessary that I leave so early. However, the warnings about arriving late, written three times in bold, red, boxed letters on my itinerary, had pretty well assured I would be up at the crack of dawn. Sure enough, I was too early to check in at 6 am, so I stood around and observed people. Not long after I arrived, I saw another girl with the same tour papers in her hand. She stood to one side of me and must have s
een the papers in my own hand, for she turned to me right as I turned to her. I think her name was Kato... we talked for a bit in Japanese and English, and it was nice. I hope everyone is so friendly.

We really liked how our plane tickets actually said "MIYAVI" on them. How kickass is that.

15 min. until the plane boards!...

9:55 am - On the Plane

So, one more hour - 45 minutes to be exact - until we land. It seems the fates were smiling on me; I am not alone. I found the one other foreigner on this tour. Rather, we found each other, each of us trying not to be obvious but noticing a fellow non-Asian hustling into line during boarding. Fumbling with our introductions, I think we both sort of sighed a little breath of relief at having more-or-less an instant companion. Her name is Rosie
and she is from Greece. Turns out she heard about this fanclub trip and decided to make a vacation of it, spending 24 days in Japan and seeing an impressive number of Miyavi's lives. I was pretty impressed. Even though I live here in Japan, I cannot imagine planning and executing such a large scale trip on my own.

I am sure it was by design that we ended up sitting next to each other on the plane. I am betting that we will be roomed together too. I am really glad there is exactly one other foreigner. As it is, we are rather a unique pair among a sea of Japanese fans. Previous experience leads me to believe this may very well prove to be a valuable advantage.

Usually I do not like sitting in the middle seats on planes. Who does? However, for this trip, I was actually quite grateful, as it gave me the opportunity to talk to people on both sides of me. Naturally all the people on our tour were booked together in one big group, so we could be sure that the people around us were all 'family'. Keeping this in mind, I had no qualms about opening conversation with the Japanese woman on my right. Her name is Kaori and she is 31. I am sure, when she was approaching her seat and saw the two of us sitting there, her stress level ratcheted up a couple notches. At first I could tell she was really nervous about using her English, having heard Rosie and I speak to one another. I gave her credit for gathering the nerve to ask that first question. Nonetheless, when I replied in Japanese, her relief was quite palpable. I can hardly blame her. The three of us spoke for a while, fortunately staying on easy enough subjects that I could hold up my end in Japanese. I am sure glad of my time spent studying!

The Happy Trio

In Okinawa w/ Miyavi - On my way

2010-03-26T13:49:00.004+09:00

Editor's Note (ha ha)

These entries were written in a journal at the time they occurred. Thus, instead of creating one long endless entry for 3 days, they will be separated into separate entries and reproduced here as they were in the original. Enjoy.

1:49 pm

Well, here I am, beginning my adventure to Okinawa. I'm at the train
station in Kizaki, with half my paycheck in my bag. I'm so nervous. I should have left an hour ago but... I was procrastinating. I'm so nervous! The last week I crammed in as much study as I could at school. Still, most of it was me frantically trying to learn more grammar, primarily new sentence structures... so I actually didn't get a chance for much memorization.

Lucky me, I had to go to an enkai on Wednesday night. Hashiba sensei was occupied with preparations, so she asked one of the other teachers to give me a lift. The drive over wasn't so bad. I was able to have a decent conversation with the teacher who drove me, and that was nice. However, once we got there, it was a different story. The teachers were all very involved in talking with each other, and I was hopelessly lost. In the end it was a brutal remind of how little I've learned.

I hope the people on this trip will be patient with me. Still, I've made a promise to myself: I will not let whatever happens with the other members of this tour stop me from enjoying it. I will try my best, but no matter what, I don't want this opportunity to pass me by.

Train will be here soon...

(Kizaki train station.. view from the 'To Ota' departure side)

Benkyoushite Iru!

2010-03-18T23:42:00.006+09:00

"I Need To Study!" <-- my title

...or at least, I hope that's what my title says. I do love the irony.

A week from tomorrow, I start off on my mini vacation to Okinawa with Miyavi. A part of me is very excited for this rare chance, not only to meet Miyavi, but to visit a part of Japan I never thought I would see. Unfortunately that part of me is rapidly losing voting rights in my brain. This is of course primarily due to my fear of being totally ostracized as possibly the soul non-native speaker on the tour... Ah, Lindsay, what have you gotten yourself into?!

Fortunately, panic has a positive side effect: motivation to study! Extreme motivation, but hey, that's what it takes!

Actually, that is only part of the reason. The other part was a little more exciting.

A couple days ago I returned to the teacher's room at school, having just finished with a rather depressing class, and was feeling the worse for ware. Wanting something mindless to take my mind off things, I flicked through my iPod for an old TV show I had featuring one of my favorite artists, Gackt. It was a Japanese talk show ("HEY! HEY! HEY!"), something I had pulled off YouTube, and while it had no subtitles, I generally didn't mind because it was sort of a game-oriented episode. At that moment I was feeling particularly resigned so, planning on enjoying the funny atmosphere of the show and not much else, I popped in my headphones and clicked play.

Imagine my surprise when the host started talking, and I understood what he was saying! Then Gackt enters the set, and I could understand him too! Oh man, it was like being splashed with cold water, hearing the speak Japanese but understanding them perfectly fine!

Here I must warn you not to get too excited on my behalf, however; it was a very simple conversation and the episode itself was a scene reflecting everyday life, Gackt working at a gas station (okay, that does NOT reflect everyday life... but you get the point); it was not as though I could understand the conversations that were going on in my own office space. Point of fact, I even watched a normal episode later and found that, sure enough, I understood relatively little. Still, I watched that whole show and understood maybe.. 80% of what was being said whereas I had previously only been able to understand maybe 5%. That's pretty exciting! Particularly because it was mostly without effort of my part... just the natural result of living in Japan for 8 months; Just imagine what I could do with actual study!

And study I have. With school winding down into the last week, my classes with the 2nd and 3rd years having already come to an end, I am getting more and more free time at the office. While previously I had Colleen McCollough's version of the Iliad to keep me occupied, now I just have my textbooks. It's pretty convenient to have an office full of people for me to check my grammar on, though I have to rely on my English teachers for any direct translations. Actually, on that front, my iPod had come in extremely useful. I downloaded a new application called Kotoba!, a Japanese dictionary. I love it because not only is it really easy to use, it translates not only into English, but Russian as well. Double check the meaning in two languages! Sweet!

Today I had zero classes and spent 6 straight hours studying. Be nice if I could keep that up, at least for the next week.

Cheers,

хорошо Baer

Snow!

2010-03-09T22:54:00.006+09:00

Just FYI,

but it's snowing!

It started snowing this morning at work, but it wasn't cold enough to stick, so wasn't too exciting. When I left work, it was still barely dust on the pavement.

Just now I was sitting at my kotatsu, and I heard a thump on my balcony. Then, a second thump. Perturbed, I got up and opened the sliding glass door to see piles of snow forming on my hanging laundry, ha ha ha. Great drying technique. The thumps were from snow falling from the roof.

They must have every light on in the city because it is 11pm at night and it looks like sunset. We've got a good 5 inches so far. I hope it sticks. Maybe they will give us some time off to play in the snow tomorrow if it does. Yay~! Only the 2nd time I have seen significant amounts of snow in Ota. Still, it was more than I expected, since many people told me that it never snows here. I think they were misinformed!

I never got a chance to post it, but last time it snowed, I was so excited... I slipped my shoes on and ran to Yuki's door so we could admire the fall of the big, heavy snowflakes together. I made a miniature Rilakkuma snow bear on the railing, and we lobbed snowballs into the parking lot. Afterward, I stood, leaning against the railing, my tongue sticking out, trying to catch some for a taste, much to Yuki's amusement. It was nice.

You kind of have to use your imagination.... ha ha.

Cheers,

polar Baer

School Notes

2010-03-09T18:13:00.012+09:00

Not really Japan related so much, but for anyone that is wondering, I had an OK birthday. Like most things, the expectation was better than the real thing and, as it turned out, the days after were better than the actual day. Everyone forgot, actually. But the next day, Akemi made me cupcakes and a cute card, and Yuki gifted me with a giant stuffed Rilakkuma, my favorite character. On Saturday, Kingsley took me out for dinner and drinks, along with giving me a killer pair of shoes. lol. So, it worked out in the end.

(Akemi and her adorable/delicious gift)

(lighting up my life with Rilakkuma love)

(Kingsley: helping me rediscover my roots a child of the 80s)

But anyway, let's get back to business! Today I want to write about the characters of my everyday life, the little observations that have been building up in the notebook in my head as I go through work everyday.

School Lunch

I'm not sure where to begin, so I will begin with where my thoughts are currently lo

cated: my stomach. I have written about school lunch before, but I think the subject deserves further discussion. In fact, Kingsley and I actually had quite a long discussion about the school lunch, over dinner. The thing that neither of us can quite fathom is how incredibly healthy Japanese people consider school lunch to be. Without a doubt I ha

ve been told at least half a dozen times how nutritious school lunch is. Nutritious. There is that word again. Should ever you find yourself in a conversation with a Japanese person in which the subject of school lunch arises and they suddenly get that vacant look in their eyes, I can tell you what word they are searching their internal Japanese-English dictionary for: nutritious. Go ahead and help them out by saying it first; they will be delighted you agree and then you may go on to forge a bond forever balanced on overcooked fish.

Nutritious. Everyday I stare down at my lunch and wonder how it qualifies. Some days are more questionable than others. Curry Day is an infamous one: curry, rice, naan, limp broccoli, and our daily dose of 3.6% fat milk. Let's see, that's fat, carbs, carbs, OH some vitamins, and more fat. Okay, how about different day? hmm... a donut,

some salad completely soaked in dressing, some chicken sitting in a pool of oil, and an oil based egg and sausage filled soup, plus more milk... so, fat and carbs, some vitamins cancelled out by fat, some protein soaked in fat, some watered down cholesterol, plus a little more fat. Well, I can say one thing for sure: I can definitely put a bit check next to the "Fats"

and "Carbs" sections of my Nutritional pyramid. No wonder the students love it.

Graduation

Well, I've had my carrot for dinner, so now I can stop thinking about food and move on to something else. There is certainly one thing that is on everyone's mind, including my own: graduation and the end of the school year. That is sort of interesting in itself, the flurry and excitement of graduation. I distinctly remember the mildly traumatizing experience of my own mother telling me at the end of JHS, "you aren't really graduating, so there is nothing to celebrate." Well, that isn't the thinking here, which is funny, since I think the percentage here of students that go to (and stay in) high school is much higher than in the US. Then again, a big graduation

celebration makes sense when here, high school is not only non-compulsory, acceptance to a good school is considered with the same consideration and importance as college.

For me, it is only important because it means that I had to say goodbye to my favorite class for the last time. It was a good goodbye though. They wrote me a very nice letter and bade me farewell with a chorus of "Bye SEXY!" Their favorite word.

For the actual ceremony, the gym was covered with plastic to protect the floor, and all the chairs were brought in from the classrooms to provide

seating for the students. The decorations around the gym were quite elaborate, nicely disguising the true nature of the room. The ceremony was predictably long and boring, particularly because I didn't understand a word. However, I did enjoy the "long walk goodbye" that came afterwards. When all the students had received their diplomas and walked out of the gym, all the parents and non-graduates went out to the athletic grounds. Everyone lined up in two parallel lines leading to the school gate. Staring at the far end of the school, carrying all their bags and items, all the graduates, along with teachers who would be retiring or transfering to another school, walked down the middle of the two lines while everyone cheered and applauded. They continued until every last student had exited the school gate for the last time. It was very dramatic, very sweet, and clearly something of a rather old tradition. I liked it immensely.

Students and Teachers

I still have the 1st and 2nd years to keep me busy though. The 1st years provide a unique challenge that has nothing to do with scholastic aptitude. and I mean, absolutely nothing. I am not sure what happens between the last year of elementary school and the first year of JHS, but based on my currents student in both grades, I can say that the older students are unanimously worse behaved. Maybe during that brief summer they all spontaneously go into puberty and their good sense seeps out through their shiny new oily skin. Disgusting, you say? Not as disgusting as their behavior.

The same day I was reading an article on CNN about young students in New York being arrested for writing a friend's name on a public school desk, I saw a student shove one of our 90 pound female teachers across the hall; another teacher showed me a perfect imprint of the bottom of a shoe on her pants from where a student had kicked her square in the thigh. "I think maybe I should not forgive him right away," she told me; at the desk where I sit in the teacher's room, there is a growing graveyard of school supplies that have been intentionally destroyed by students; in one of my classes, there is a student who, I noticed, now brings a pillow with him to school, so he may sleep through classes in greater comfort.

I suppose it wouldn't be so remarkable except for the way in which such behavior is handled. Although I can't say the system is better, in the US such students would face detention, isolation, expulsion, or, as recently, even a pair of handcuffs. At the very least, parents would be called in and asked to take their children in hand. In Japan, I've discovered, it is the teachers that bear the full brunt. Although parents are indeed contacted about the behavior of their children, it is not taken quite the same way as it would be in the States. I asked my main English teacher about the parents of these horrible children, how they react to reports of bad behavior. "Mostly, they just blame us," she said, "Or refuse to believe it is happening at all. Teachers just don't have enough protection." No kidding.

Although it is a pretty raw deal for teachers, all around, I have to say, I think the school system in Japan is pretty impressive, student-centric. From what I can tell, the Japanese system is like one giant support system. For one thing, the student go to school almost 365 days a year, even on the weekends and during summer break, because they have clubs every day of the week. I think they spend more time with each other and their teachers than they do their own families. Actually, at the elementary school, there was this one little boy who was so doted on by the Vice Principle that, for a long time, I thought it was his own son.

The teachers do everything, everything to attend to the needs of students, even the bad ones. In addition, teachers, principles, and vice-principles are constantly being rotated from one school to the next, so no one has time to grow too bored or complacent... or arrogant about their position. Of course, it also means having to drive maybe 1 hour to work and back everyday and work long stressful hours for not exactly a king's ransom. Like I said, it's a pretty raw deal for Japanese teachers, but they remain pretty dedicated. Really, I think they are kind of like superheroes.

Everyone's Favorite ALT

After talking to my friend, I realized I should probably clarify one thing about this entry: I still love my job. There are a few things that really kind of piss me off (example: the inability of taking a sick day), but who doesn't have a few things they don't like about their job?

For one thing, the job has definitely gotten easier with time. My own understanding of the students' actual abilities (what they DO know, as opposed to what they SHOULD know) has helped me tremendously in making effective lesson plans and acting as an assistant in the classes I don't teach. I still struggle with elementary lesson plans - I find I simply can't lower my intelligence level to match theirs - but I have Akemi, my wonderful supporter, to help me out and keep me sane.

For another thing, there is simply the fact that I am not a "real" teacher. When people ask me what I do, I say "eigo no sensei" (English teacher) because it is the least complicated way to explain it, but in truth I am just an assistant: ALT- Assistant Language Teacher. So while I do have to teach classes, I don't have the hours or the responsibilities of the the "real" teachers. Of all the stuff I wrote above about the raw deal Japanese teachers get, little of it applies to me. As I have said before, my job is pretty easy.

This is not to say that I don't get frustrated just as the other teachers do. It is apparent that the vast majority of the students have no real interest in learning English. Certainly before their 3rd year (their last year, when they have to buckle down and get serious in order to pass high school entrance exams) it is very difficult to motivate students. It varies, of course, but the thing is... "group mentality" is the rule, not the exception, in Japan. This means that if there are a few students who really hate English (as there are in every class) then most of the students sitting around them will also decline in their English studies and become problem children as well. So, often enough, all the effort that we put into making fun activities for class get ruined by infectious apathy. It is disheartening, and sometimes when the ALTs in the area get together for seminars, we can't help asking each other "Why are we even here?"

Of course, there is the flip side of that as well. Lessons can be really frustrating because the students find textbook learning tedious, repetition boring, and memorization difficult; yet the minute the bell rings and class is over, even some of the worst students get excited at to chance to talk with me, the ALT. For my 1st and 2nd years (JHS), I always give time for the students to come and talk to me after class using whatever limited vocab/grammar they have. The longer I have been there, the more I have seen even the shy students coming forward to talk, because while lessons are boring, actual conversation with a foreigner is pretty exciting stuff. My teachers tell me that when I am not in class, the students often ask for me, and look forward to the next time I am in class. When I do walk into class, always I hear little excited whispers of my name ricochet around the classroom. That enthusiasm... that is why we are here. It's what makes this job worth doing.

Not to mention it's a pretty good job for stroking one's ego, ha ha. Nothing like having thirty people get excited because you just walked into the room. Even though I find it a little creepy, it's also nice to hear, I don't know how many times a day, students say "Lindsay, you're cute" "hey Lindsay, nice body", even randomly timed statements of "oh, so sexy". Then there are those moments when I can simply smile at a student who is clearly drifting off during a grammar lesson and they suddenly light up with happiness; when I leave work everyday, there is always a happy chorus of goodbyes from every student that sees me. Yeah, the perks are pretty good here.

Cheers,

ALT Baer

volcano ramen and panda buns

2010-02-15T16:56:00.005+09:00

On Satuday, Yuki took me out to run some errands, hers and mine. While in the course of those errands, we happened to be at a stop light when a restaurant caught Yuki's eye. Excited, she turned to me, "Have you ever had 'volcano ramen'?" No, I couldn't say that I had. So we took a break and went to have some ramen. Now, I have had ramen a number of times since coming here, but this was the first time I have ever seen people actually waiting to get in. The sheer number of ramen shops makes it unnecessary. So, that there was a family sitting at the door was a pretty good sign, in my opinion. The bar, however, was wide open, so we scooted past and got seated immediately.

After we ordered, I was amused when what I took to be a placemat was handed to me. It was paper, of course, and had illustrated pictures, with directions, on how to eat 'volcano ramen'. Directions for ramen! Feels like college.

As it turned out, it was not a placemat, but a splatter guard. lol. This meal was getting more amusing all the time. When they brought the ramen, it was in an incredibly hot black dish that was only partially filled. Then they poured the broth into the bowls in front of us, and sure enough, it started to bubble up immediately, spewing small drops of boiling liquid: splatter guard! I felt a little bit like an idiot, holding up a paper shield to protect me from a bowl of ramen, lol, but it was an experience. As it turned out out, it was the best ramen (maybe because I got the spicy flavor?) that I had ever had. Yum. I do suggest it, if you have the chance.

After eating, we went to a bakery so Yuki could buy some sweets for her family. It was a nice bakery, and they had such good looking cakes and buns I had to steal some pictures.

Mmm, looking is almost as good as eating.

Cheers,

sweet tooth Baer

Valentines Day

2010-02-15T14:24:00.003+09:00

I hadn't planned on doing anything special for Valentines Day, honestly. I feel like I have spent quite enough time and money in my kitchen making gift for regular holidays to warrant the same treatment for "fake" holidays like V-day.

However, things change. At Don Quixote, I won a Rilakkuma rubber food mold at a UFO catcher... I was excited. So, I decided to compromise and make holiday treats for a few special people.

Aren't they cute? The rubber mold came with some Rilakkuma ribbon, so I decorated a bit. When I first tried to make the chocolates, I found out that the molds are so deep that each one is almost an entire chocolate bar. Delicious, but not very economical. So, for the final product, I used chocolate peanut butter as filling. I gave one box to Chingyi, one to Akemi (my supporter), and individual ones to my three English teachers at the JHS.

Everyone said, "Lindsay, it's too cute! I can't bite it!". Psh, mercy over chocolate? I think not! "Just cover your eyes and bite!"

Cheers,

choco-Baer

I'M GOING TO OKINAWA WITH MIYAVI!!

2010-01-29T22:19:00.003+09:00

I'm sorry

I just need to say that again:

I'M GOING TO OKINAWA WITH MIYAVI

MIYAVIIIIIIIIIII~!!

gods

excuse me for a moment while I scrape myself off the ceiling.

I was a little reluctant to apply for this trip when I first heard about it because the chances of there being another English speaking fan in the winning group of 40 is pretty low... and the idea of traveling practically out of the country without at least that much is more than a little daunting...

but I still applied the next day, lol.

because, it's Miyavi, man. How can I not?

Like everything else, this was a lottery event. Anyone in the fanclub can apply, but only 40 win a reservation. I think the price of said reservation greatly increased my odds of winning, lol. Said reservation is for: 2 nights, 3 days in Okinawa, including a photoshoot with the Miyavi, dinner with Himself and the others, and a concert.

I am so excited. This is... well, when I knew I was coming to Japan, one of my biggest hopes was that I might be around for one of these rare fanclub trips that Japanese artists sometimes have... but it was sort of a pipe dream. Going to concerts was enough.

...

but this... wow. after March, I can officially say I have no regrets.

Cheers to THAT!

ecstatic Baer

Skiing in Hakuba

2010-01-15T16:35:00.008+09:00

This weekend I did something I love to do but don't get a chance to do very often; I went skiing. But lest I ever be charged with doing something mundane, I must add that I went skiing at the site of the 1998 Winter Olympics in Hakuba, Nagano. I skied right past the original building (and took a picture! see right) for the 1998 Olympic Ski Jumping Competition, and that same night watched the results of the 2010 Olympic Ski Jumping Competition. Rather fitting, wouldn't you say?

Hakuba happens to be the hometown of my friend and neighbor, Yuki. I always have a great deal of trouble finding people who know how to ski, so I was quite pleased to find out that not only does she know how to ski, she has been doing so every year since she was 6! Good enough for me!

So, in the morning, we went to a shop in Ota to rent me some ski equipment. It was cheap, only 1500 yen. I did eye the boots a little critically; they looked about as old as me. This turned out to be a "get what you pay for" sort of situation, but it has been some time since I have skied regularly, so I was not a very good judge of what I needed, and the shop was really small and short of many options.

We didn't leave until that evening on Saturday, because Yuki's friend was coming with us, and she had to work (on Satuday... she was a teacher, go figure). So we left at 5, and it took 3 hours to get to get to Hakuba. Even though it was already 8pm, the first place we went was to an onsen. The little town was full of them. We paid 750yen at a little machine by the door and went inside to the public bath. It was quite different from the ryokan we had stayed at in Oigami. The inside bath was quite large and boring looking, much like any public pool, with a number of shower stations off to one side. It was also the first time I had really gone to a public bath, particularly with such high traffic. Chingyi and I were lucky enough to usually be the sole occupants of the baths at our hotel. Not here! and, lucky me, being foreign, I drew a number of looks and stares. I may not mind this much on a usual day, but being stared at when you are buck naked is enough to make anyone self-conscious!

I did like the outside bath. It had a rocky "natural spring" look and, although it was walled in, was right next to the snow, with snow falling around as all the time.

Hair looking a bit worse the ware from the humidity, we finished the evening by going to Yuki's family home, where we would be staying. I heard Yuki tell her friend in Japanese that it was quite crowded, with her mother, father, grandmother, aunt, sister, and her sister's husband and two children. I was quite impressed they had room for us at all! Nobody was awake when we arrived, so we would meet them the next day.

Waking up that morning and looking outside was quite a shock. The mountains were HUGE, gorgeous covered in snow, and so close! I imagine it would be quite blissful to wake up to that view every morning.

Yuki's mother was cheerful and friendly. She was kind enough to make breakfast for us, the 2nd of that morning, since she had to make breakfast for all the family members that left for work at 6 and 7am. It was very good, though not typical of what I expect of a typical Japanese breakfast, including salad and scrambled eggs in addition to the usual rice and bread.

Two of Yuki's family members worked at the ski resort itself. When we arrived, Yuki went off to find something to unfreeze the skis from the roof (oops!) and came back with three staff ski passes. A little borrowed gift that saved us 5500-4500 yen each! I rather liked the ski pass system they used. Instead of those annoying sticky paper ones that you have to cut off at the end of the day, they used an IC card. Just strap it to your arm to scan as you get on the lift, and at the end of the day, drop it in the recycle box to get 1000 yen back! Smart (those clever Japanese).

We were at the mountain from 9am to 3pm. In reflection, this sounds like an impressive amount of time, but I think we spent most of it on the lifts. The first run of the day, we went straight up to the top of the mountain and had to take 3 lifts to get there. It was certainly worth it though. Although it was a cloudy day, we had actually risen above the clouds, and thus had a gorgeous view of Hakuba, Nagano, and Hakuba's famous 3-peak mountains (see above). We popped off our skiis and went to admire the view - along with a hundred other people! Everyone was taking pictures and asking others to take their pictures. I think if you stood around up there long enough, you'd become a professional photographer! Naturally, of course, I didn't miss out on my own oopprotunity for a photo op:

For lunch, we went to the lodge at the bottom of the mountain, where, for an hour, they were offering free Japanese soup. We had a better offer than that, even. Yuki's aunt worked at the soup booth. She brought us each a bowl of soup, a delicious mochi "dumpling" soup, ohagi (rice balls covered in red bean paste), plus two different bowls of vegetables, a chocolate covered bun, and some potato-tofu to share. It was all complements of her aunt! Their generosity was overwhelming.

The only problem was that it was really too much food for the three of us. Yuki told me sagely, "We have to say thank you [and accept it] even if we don't want it... and we have to eat it ALL. It's the Japanese way!" Oh goodie. This unfortunate revelation was accompanied by some reluctant prodding at the questionable portions of our shared meal. The chocolate covered bun, I discovered, was stale or overcooked to the point of being almost rock hard, and the inside was a really strange mix of apple and sweet potato. After the first tentative bite, it was clear that it was not something that most people would eat voluntarily. Even Yuki's aunt came over and told her it was no good. But that didn't mean we didn't have to eat it!

After lunch, we waddled out to work off our meal on the slopes.
It was really a fun day. There were WAY too many people on the mountain, carving away at the snow until there was mostly ice and moguls left. Not to mention I am so out of shape as to be a disgrace to my former abilities. I do like to put some of the blame on my equipment. The 20 year old boots I was wearing were too lose and thus made my skis hard to control. This was my major complaint; your boots should make your skis feel like an extension of your body, not like you are dragging a dead limb around! My skis were also desperately in need of waxing. I think gravity was the only reason I moved at all. But it was fun because we took frequent breaks to catch up to one another and catch our breath. By the end of the day, I was so dead tired, it was sheer will alone keeping me from merely rolling down the mountain.

Immediately after leaving the ski resort, we went to another onsen. We practically ran, just making it before closing. This one was much smaller, but had a much more elaborate selection of amenities, which I appreciated. The outdoor area was nicer too. Rather than being walled in, it was open on one side, face out toward a great view of the mountains. Three little girls in the bath had great fun throwing snowballs, trying to knock icicles off the roof. If I hadn't been in that bath myself and known how hot it made you - my skin was literally steaming when I stepped out - I would have thought they were crazy for running around in the snow naked.

That night we were treated to another meal cooked by Yuki's mom. When Yuki asked me if I wouldn't mind eating at home, she seemed amazed that I would agree. I didn't know how to communicate to her that the chance to eat authentic Japanese food in someone's home was worth more to me than any meal, no matter how expensive, in any restaurant. As it turned out, it was better than any meal I would have gotten in a restaurant anyway.

Dinner was served at a long kotatsu table in the main living room, around which we sat on floor cushions. Sadly, I didn't get a picture of the feast she spread before us, but suffice it to say that it was vast and impressive as it was delicious. Salmon, rice, tofu, miso soup, slightly burned rice balls with miso, salad, little sweet fish, and super sweet sweet potato were among some of the things she served. The sweet potatoes were particularly amazing. I will have to get Yuki to give me the recipe. I tried to compliment Yuki's mom on her cooking, but as it was, I could only thank her repeatedly and tell her it was delicious. I think I got my point across anyway.

I feel very lucky in my experiences so far.
Cheers,

The Face of Gunma TV

2010-01-12T14:58:00.006+09:00

The beginning of January was a pretty busy period for me, in a supremely positive sense. After we got back from the onsen on January 3rd, I immediately packed a bag of clean clothes and the next day was on the train to Tokyo for another concert. This time it was a Versailles concert, but a rather special one, the memorial concert for Jasmine You, the bassist that had died last year.

I don't have too much to say about this concert. I had a terrible terrible ticket number and was just lucky to be by the bar outside the pit, so I could see the stage. Kaya was also performing at the memorial, but it was his usual stuff, and after seeing him perform that jazzy blues house music, the one-man pop music didn't really have quite the impact it should have. I thought it was quite appropriate that during the intermission between bands, they played Mozart's Requiem. I wondered how many other people appreciated the significance, and if You had been a Mozart fan. I did enjoy watching Versailles perform; There was certainly nothing wrong with their performance.. so... I couldn't tell you why, but I left this concert feeling really dissatisfied.

The disappointment of that night was followed by excited expectation a few days later as I planned an outing to Takasaki with Chingyi. It was January 6th, the first day of the festival Daruma-ichi, and we took half the day off to go enjoy it. Daruma-ichi is a festival that Gunma is well known for, and Takasaki's was biggest Daruma festival in the country. Another JET, Tricia, and her friend, Anthony, came with us and we met up at the train station in Takasaki to head out together.

A Daruma is a round red doll made out of paper and hand painted with a face, the main feature of which is two big empty eyes with no pupils. The story behind the doll is rather horrific, so I wont burden your mind with the graphic imagery, but suffice it to say that it is a representation of the founder of Zen Buddhism. The tradition is to buy a Daruma-doll at the beginning of the year, make a wish, and paint in one black pupil in his left eye. If the wish comes true, you paint in the other eye. Come the next year, you bring your old Daruma doll back to the festival to be burned and buy a new one for the coming year.

The whole road leading up to the temple was lined with stalls. Most of them were selling food, primarily squid-on-a-stick, takoyaki, taiyaki, and okonomiyaki. The only thing I eat on a stick is a hot dog; I hate takoyaki (fried octopus balls), and I was too full for okonomiyaki, but I loove taiyaki (fish shaped pancake batter-like sleeves filled with red bean paste) so I bought a couple of those to snack on.

This cute little display of toys was propped up at one vendor. I might hate takoyaki but these killed me they were so damn cute. (As they say, "Hate the sin, love the cute-little-plastic-octopus!")

Arriving at the temple, we had to walk up two big cases of steps. There were a lot of people there of all ages, and there were police with loudspeakers standing mid-way up the steps saying "If you get tired, please come and stand behind me," which I thought was really hilarious. Maybe you had to be there.

At the top of the steps, the space around the temple was crowded by tents and PILES of Daruma dolls. Piles and piles of them in plastic bags. The traditional color for the dolls is red, but there were ones in every color: black, white, pink, purple, blue, green, gold, silver, and a special yellow tiger one for the Chinese New Year. They weren't cheap either. The average size, about 8 inches, was 2000 yen. That didn't stop us, tho. We are forever in the mindset of "hey, how many times are we gonna be in Japan" and tend to buy things we never would in the States, at a price we would never pay! The perfect consumer. and consume we did. I think we all bought at least 3 Daruma of various sizes. Some of them were gifts. Some were just an obsessive compulsive need to buy.

One of the most entertaining things about the whole day was how completely fascinated people were by the presence of myself and Anthony, the two white people of our group. At first I noticed it while Anthony and I were bargaining; Well, HE was bargaining -he speaks Japanese quite well- and I was standing there for moral support and looking around. Undistracted as I was, I saw two or three Japanese people pointing their big SLR cameras in our direction, snap pictures from the other side of the tent. It amused me to think that they might actually be taking pictures of us, the fabulous people that we are, but more realistically I assumed it had to be something else in close proximity, like the temple behind us. So, Anthony had finished his bargain, we paid and moved on. Except, as I had kept my eye on the resident amateur photographers, I noticed that the black eye of every lens was following us! I tried to get someone else to notice this, to prove to myself I wasn't crazy, but everyone was distracted by the colorful scenery.

However, it soon grew impossible to deny that we had a certain presence. One of the vendors was a particularly funny, crazy little man (NOT the man in the picture to the right), who saw us and called us over loudly by shouting in Japanese "hey, weird foreigners!" Amused despite the fact that it was a little bit of an insulting phrase in Japanese, we went over. By this point, I didn't have to point out the people that were following us; they were impossible NOT to notice! People would stop, turn around in front of us and take a picture like we were some kind of escaped zoo animal. It was totally bewildering and bazaar to us, but we rather enjoyed it. Meanwhile, the vendor was still calling us "weird foreigners" and animatedly trying to persuade us of his good prices.

Our exchange was loud, funny, and in a mix of Japanese and English, so it was probably for these reasons that we drew the attention of one of the TV crews scoping out the area. A man with a huge TV camera perched on his shoulder was circling us, filming our entire exchange with The Crazy Vendor Man, a fact that we all tried to look unaware of. Immediately after we paid, a woman with a microphone approached us and asked if she could interview us in Japanese. It was painfully clear she wanted Anthony and myself to do the interview, but I was definitely not up to that challenge, so Anthony and Tricia agreed to answer questions. I have to say... it was the MOST AWKWARD interview I could ever have imagined!! The woman would ask Anthony a question, he would answer and then.................................................................................................................................... ten seconds of awkward silence later, she would ask the next question. Over and over this would happen, every time he answered a question, she would just continue to stare at him blankly until we were all kind of looking around at each other nervously, wondering what was going on. Poor Anthony. I felt so bad for him. It haunted him for the rest of the day, wondering what else he should have said during his 15 minutes of fame.

We were approached by several other people that day. Another TV crew, actually, but they just wanted to have a look inside our bags to see all the Daruma we bought. One funny man came up and asked if he could take a picture of us. We assumed he meant all four of us but then he kind of... nudged Chingyi and Tricia out of the way. Gods, it was so funny, I think we all bruised a rib swallowing our laughter. He asked us, Anthony and myself, to "act natural", which was the last thing on our minds at that moment. So, holding our Daruma to our chests like it was the most natural thing in the world, we had a fake conversation in English (ever had one of those moments when someone says "say something in English!" and suddenly you only speak Spanish? Yeah) about how funny the whole situation was while he got his shot. Would have loved to get that picture.

...instead, here is one of all of us. We are mostly blocking it, but those red blurs behind us are piles and piles of Daruma dolls:

On the train home, Chingyi got a surprised text from one of her friends: she had just seen on the Gunma TV channel! Immediately after getting home, I looked up when the news would rerun that night, so I could record it. When it finally came on, it was so short, it was absurdly funny! The Gunma TV people must have agreed that it was a terrible interview, because they had shortened it to only about 2 seconds and a single one-word answer!

Ah well. Guess that means we still have 14 minutes and 58 seconds of fame left!

(If you want to watch the news clip, I've uploaded it here. Sorry the sound isn't great)

Cheers,

famous Baer

Valley of the Onsens

2010-01-09T18:01:00.002+09:00

So, my concert with Miyavi took place on Tuesday, Dec 29th. The next morning, I went back to Gunma, had some lunch, grabbed my bag, and headed out for my winter break with Chingyi. I might have mentioned this, but we were going to an onsen, or hot spring, in Oigami, Gunma.

To get there, we took a train half way there and stopped off in a little town in the middle of nowhere inthe mountains. Another ALT that lived in the area, a friend of Chingyi's, vollunteered to drive us the rest of the way to the onsen, so we could save $20

for the bus. John was a really nice guy, very friendly, and he offered immediately to take us to this amazing waterfall nearby that was a little off the beaten path. We readily agreed. The area was really really beautiful, buried in the mountains, not much around. Rural Gunma always reminds me of New Hampshire.

The waterfall turned out to be at the top of its own little mountain. It was a little daunting standing at the bottom and looking up at all the stairs we had to climb. Chingyi and I counted later, as we descended: 200 steps. Getting to the top was more than worth it. The waterfall was above us, shooting out of a narrow opening in the rocks and falling down into the rocks bellow us. Quite a beautiful site, especially since we had it all to ourselves. Behind the waterfall, the inside of the cliff was carved out quite deeply, forming a long overhang. Nestled under the overhang was a little shrine, backed right into the wall of the cliff, with water from the fall splashing mere feet away. Fresh fruit sat on the top step of the shrine, belying its abandoned appearance. It was very cozy and... historic looking, almost familiar, as though we had stepped into an old painting.

Afterward, we continued on and drove into the valley of the onsens. I mean this quite literally. The town, if you could call it that, was occupied mostly by the large rice fields stretched throughout the middle of the valley, onsens (and not much else) bracketing both sides.

(looks much more impressive with the snow!)

Pulling up to our onsen, we were both delighted and surprised. The building itself was quite impressive, occupying at least three stories, with very Japanese architecture, something the neighboring onsens lacked. In addition to looking like a feudal castle, the place had a surprising addition; right out in front, next to the wooden enclosure of the outdoor baths, were marble statues arranged for a sumo wrestling match. Two large men were bent over, facing one another in their diaper-like mawashi, so square (chubby) and perpendicular they looked like bulldogs. It took me a second to realize that was not actually what they were.

(another snow picture... it was only one I got)

After helping us with our bags, John left us and we went inside. We were greeted immediately by a friendly older and younger man, both Japanese. They were very nice, welcoming, but after offering me a smile, deferred to Chingyi for further conversation. This happens everywhere we go; given her asian looks (and my obviously white ones), everyone assumes she is Japanese and I am her oblivious foreign compaion. I usually find this amusing at best, if not more than slightly irritating; I hate being ignored as if I were a child, despite the reality of my lingual liminations. However, the owner and his small staff were so warm, as if we had stepped into their home rather than their business, that I was not insulted. I must say, I could never have taken this trip without Chingyi. Although she is not, as people assume, Japanese, her grasp of the language is much better than mine, and she has the good fortune of being able to read Chinese characters. I followed along as best I could, but Chingyi did all the talking, for which I was most grateful.

Our room was on the main floor. Opening the main door led to a small area for us to leave our slippers -even indoor shoes aren't to be worn on tatami- and step up onto the wood floor of the outer room. There was

a mini fridge, full of wine and beer that we ignored, and our own little bathroom, comprised of a sink and a sliding door that hid a (blissfully) Western toilet. Another sliding door led into the main room. The floor was entirely tatami, with a

low table, a TV, and cushioned, legless chairs on one side and our futons already laid out on the other. The opposite wall was lined with windows that were entirely covered by sliding paper screens. This was a ryokan, a hotel in the traditional Japanese style.

In the single closet we found yukata and bathtowels. Unlike the yukata I had seen and worn before, these, although two layers, were comparitively simple to wear. I think I looked like quite the tourist in mine, but that didn't stop me from chucking my clothes off immediately and putting it on.

Eager to see the baths, we headed downstairs. The womens' and mens' baths were separated. Long, split maroon fabric marked with the hiragana letter "yu", meaning hot water or bath, hid the entrance to the women's side. Inside, maroon carpeting covered two short steps where we left our shoes and moved into a large tile bathroom. Here there were sinks and blow dryers, along with hair ties and other thoughtful accessories for our use. Along the wall were cubbies and wicker baskets for us to put our things. A large window offered a view into the indoor bath. Taking a peak, both Chingyi and I ducked when we saw an older woman already enjoying the hot water, naked as a jay bird. With that reminder burning the back of our eyes, we turned back to the room to get down to the business of our first public strip show. Unlike the Japanese women who summarily stripped off their clothes as easily and perfunctually as putting on a Sunday dress, Chingyi and I required a little mutual coaxing, eye's averted. Once naked, we all but fled into the glass enclosed room of the indoor bath.

Although it was the outdoor bath I was really interested in, the indoor one was quite impressive, if small. The walls were tiled, but the floor was black slate and the bath itself was made from piles of large black stones with a slate bottom, as though someone had simply walled off a natural spring. Along the one tile wall were four mirrors with handheld shower heads attached to faucets near the floor. To one side, near the door, was a pile of neatly stacked plastic stools and bowls, of which we each took one. The one woman we had previously spotted in the bath gave us an amused smile as we entered; I'm afraid our inexperience was perhaps more obvious than we would have liked.

Perfectly aware that we were in full view of anyone and everyone who entered the bath, we sat our naked butts on our stools for a shower, trying to pretend we weren't getting an eyeful of each other. It proved a fruitless effort and we were soon laughing about it. The pre-bath show was certainly an interesting one. An array of products including black soap and a special, regional facial scrub were lined up in front of the mirrors for our use; all part of the spa experience!

Clean and ready for a soak, I walked to the end of the rocky spring and stepped in. Awareness of the unknown woman in the bath was all that kept me from immediately jumping back out again as I felt the temperature. It did not, however, keep me from swearing in English and calling pitifully back to Chingyi, "It's so HOT!" 'Hot' was an understatement. Forcing myself past ankle deep water was a force of sheer will. I stared in horror as Chingyi knelt at the edge of the bath, dipped in her plastic bowl, and splashed the scalding water all over herself. "To acclimate," she told me, non-pulsed. I had no response for that.

Eventually I forced myself to crouch down in the water, but couldn't quite make myself sit and fully submerge. The woman left and the two of us sat for a while, silent in our own thoughts. I couldn't get over how easily Chingyi seemed to adjust, relaxing almost immediately in the water as if it were nothing. I felt like I could barely breath. Distracting myself, I looked around at the bath. Water poured from between the cracks in the piled rocks and filtered through a wooden box into the pool. I stared into the water and noticed the bits of I-don't-know-what floating around me. I asked Chingyi about it, and she pointed to a sign in Japanese attached to the wooden filter box, "That's what that say. 'The stuff you see in the water is part of the natural bath,'" whatever that meant. I tried not to imagine it was human skin.

It didn't take very long for me to reach my limit in the scalding water. I stood and informed Chingyi I was going to inspect the outdoor bath. She stood and followed me. Exiting on the other side of the bath from where we entered, we went outside and were immediately hit by cold air. Although it was nearly freezing outside, my skin was so hot from the water that it actually felt good. Nonetheless, we dashed to the pool and quickly sat down. Constantly cooled by the outdoor air, the water was a much more tolerable temperature. Breathing a sigh of relief, I was finally able to relax.

The outdoor area was much more man-made looking, but still with a natural touch. The whole area was done in smooth cobble stones. The bath itself was a semicircle, divided in the middle by tall wooden fencing that separated the womens' side from the mens'. Above, a detached roof protected us from direct light and later, snowfall.

Throughout our stay, the outdoor bath was where I liked to spend most of my bathing time. I would take my shower, RUN through the scalding water of the indoor bath, and go relax outside until I couldn't take it anymore. Only then would I go inside and soak, my body already properly warmed up. I discovered a seat-like nook in the rocks in one corner of the bath where I could prop my legs and arms out of the water, leaving only my torso submerged and thus not overheat too quickly.

Back in the room, I sank into the softness of my futon. I had not been too thrilled at the prospect of spending my vacation sleeping on a futon, since I have to sleep in my lumpy one at home all the time, but these were so nice, it was almost as good as a real bed. Sliding under the fluffy down comforter, I hardly found reason to get up again. Having everything resting on the floor may be the Japanese way, but to me, in just inspires slothfulness. Considering this was essentially a spa vacation, slothfulness was exactly what we were aiming for. For four days, we did nothing more than sleep, eat, watch TV, play games, read, bath, and occasionally go outside. It was heavenly and entirely what I needed.

Every morning we were treated to a traditional Japanese breakfast provided by the ryokan. Wrapped in our yukata, we would make our way across the main floor to tatami rooms on the opposite side of the ryokan from our room. The interior of the entirely building was decorated with an astounding amount of sumo memorabilia, from small figures, models, paintings and pictures, to authentic handprinted and signed prints from the sumo wrestlers themselves. There were even pictures of the ryokan's owner standing with several of his idols. Inside the tatami serving rooms was no different. Not one decoration lining the walls did not in some way relate to sumo. It was bizarre as it was funny.

The morning meals were an experience of their own, one we looked forward to every morning. We were led inside a tatami room where short screens partitioned off personalized numbers of floor height tables, each with their own room number. Each table was set individually with a large wicker ring and almost a dozen small bowls and plates, each holding something different. The food was delicious,never too fishy or strong, though there were always a coupleitems everyday that neither of us could bare to eat. Natto was one. A Japanese food that, for good reason, has never really made it big in the States, natto is made of fermented soybeans.Extremely odorous and sticky, it is a food that is said to be very healthybut both smells and tastes like vomit. Only the most dedicated and enterprising of foreigners learn to eat it. Not even some Japanese can stomach the stuff.

Thus past four blissful days in the mountains of Gunma. The first day after we arrived it snowed and continued to do so for the entirety of our trip. It was really unspeakably beautiful, and we threw open our paper window shades everyday so that we could gaze upon it. We did go outside a couple times, taking a long walk around the entire valley and confirming the completely lack of life during this particular holiday. We didn't mind. The isolation was just what we needed.

On January 3rd, we returned to Ota. I began missing the baths before we even left. I think, if I had a car, I would go to the cheap, nearby onsen nearly every weekend, just to relax and soak up some heat for the week. Ah, if only.

Cheers,

bath time Baer

Are you having fun?!

2010-01-08T18:18:00.001+09:00

So... first of several long overdue posts on my winter vacation.

As you know, I was scheduled to work on Christmas. This essentially entailed me going to work and playing Solitaire on my computer for 7 hours, since the students had already started their winter break. As it turns out, however, I woke up feeling really sick. So, instead of going to work, Hashiba-sensei picked me up and brought me to the clinic (I wanted to make sure I didn't have strep throat). We waited in the click for about 1 hour. After the doctor confirmed that it was just a bad cold, I was amused to find that he assigned me a prescription for every symptom I had. Talk about over-medicating! The saving grace was that it all turned out to be quite cheap. With my insurance, it was only $10 for the doctor visit and $8 for all the medication. Less than my American co-pay!

This, I might add, was Friday. I had a concert on Tuesday in Tokyo. I was determined to recover enough that I could go to this concert; it was Miyavi and I was NOT(!!) going to miss it. The drugs that the doctor had given me ended up making me feel worse, so I ditched them. I spend the next three days laying on my couch, drinking Vitamin Water and watching movies on my computer. I barely moved.

By Tuesday, I was thankfully a little better, so off to Tokyo I went, catching some extra sleep on the train. Let me just say, I am SO GLAD I WENT!! Holy **** am I glad. Let me tell you what happened.

The venue was the Shibuya DUO Music Exchange. I should mention that this was a fanclub only concert, and that even as a member of the fanclub, I had to win the chance to even buy a ticket. So, this was a rare opportunity. I was particularly lucky because I got a very low ticket number (#8!). Most of the concerts I go to are standing only, but they let people into the venue by ticket number to prevent mass chaos (something I wish they would do in the States). My low ticket number meant I got into the venue and got a spot on the fence, RIGHT in front of the microphone. I had silent little happy dance moment in my head. The best spot at a limited concert of my favorite artist? Already this was making out to be my best concert yet in Japan, and it hadn't even started!

LOL, I have to say, once Miyavi walked out onto that stage, every stereotype of the demure, polite Japanese fan went out the window. Well, not completely. As these girls were shoving their way forward, they would turn as say "Oh sorry! sorry!" and then continue to shove into a space that didn't exist! It was a little distracting, a little amusing, and a lot annoying. However, Miyavi more than made up for it.

After he had done a few songs, he took a break to talk to the crowd. He talked for quite a while, and I realized later that he had been talking about the release of his upcoming DVD. In the middle of this, he paused and looked RIGHT AT ME. Like, I'm the only white, blond haired girl in the whole front row, and I'm right in front of him, so I'm pretty hard to miss. The camera guy swirls around and point the camera right at me and Miyavi asks, "Where are you from?" in English.

Yeah. I about died.

I didn't believe he could actually be talking to me, so I kinda looked around and went, "Me?" and he nodded. OMG. I told him "Texas" (because "Gunma" is not exactly exciting) and the whole crowd went "Whaaaa!" in surprise. Miyavi picked two other (maybe the only other two xDD) foreigners out of the crowd and asked where they were from (one was from Canada, the other from Italy).

The music continued after a bit more talking. Maybe it was mostly my imagination, because as I was high as a kite at the moment, but I was pretty sure I made eye contact with him several times over the course of the concert. It seems possible, since like I said, smack dab in a crowd of Japanese people, I'm hard to miss. Thus, despite the fact that I had an elbow in my boob and the crowd was humping me into the fence, I was seriously flying. You could have shot me in the foot and it wouldn't have taken the smile off my face.

On top of that, he paused in the middle of another song, pointed at me and asked in English "Are you having fun?!!" and then again subsequently to the other two foreigners.

Overall, I would say the concert was actually below par as far as his concerts usually go. He seemed worn out to me, which I didn't blame him for since he was just finishing up the first half of his world tour. No guitar tricks, no going into the crowd, no dancing about, no encore....

Yet, with everything else that happened? Probably the best concert of my LIFE.

I'm actually kind of afraid to go to any more of his lives because I can't imagine they would ever measure up. lol.

So, all in all, it was kinda like my Christmas present from Miyavi. Love him.

Cheers,

382 Baer

Behind

2010-01-07T10:58:00.000+09:00

It is quite sad when you find yourself continuously refreshing the page of your own blog, wondering why there are no new entries... it seems I am quite behind! I have much to tell you about, including getting sick, speaking with my idol, getting naked in public, and appearing on Japanese TV (!) Aren't you just giddy with anticipation.

..However, I am the epitome of laziness. For now, I will have to amuse you with this brief antidote:

The other day my supervisor was kind enough to take some time out of his work day to take me to get my bike fixed and get a new battery for my watch. As we were leaving the store, I saw two of my JHS students. One of them gave me this shocked look that made me laugh; students are always so surprised to realize their teachers exist outside the walls of the school, like we might just puff into thin air at the end of everyday. However, turning to look at my supervisor, it occured to me what exactly he had seen: me, walking with an unknown middle age Japanese gentleman in a pinstripe suit, out of a jewelry store.

maybe you had to be there, but
it was pretty funny.

Cheers,

pimped(?) Baer

Merry Christmas America

2009-12-25T19:54:00.001+09:00

So, America, how was your Christmas?

The highlight of mine?

I tried to eat a candle.

Yeah. Thought it was chocolate.

Sweet.

Cheers,

sick Baer

Christmas...?

2009-12-24T20:06:00.002+09:00

So yay, my sore throat went from "well shit, my cold is coming back" to "holy gods, when did the aliens replace my esophagus with sand paper??" in about a day. I am super glad that I don't have any more classes this year because it hurts even to whisper.

In other news, I am once again cooking pumpkin pies. Six in total, the last of the pumpkin my mother brought me. I will bring them to work tomorrow, the elementary this time, and attempt to make it feel like it is Christmas.

I realized that the likelihood of me waking up tomorrow and not remembering it's Christmas is pretty high. I can honestly say that has never happened before.

Christmas Eve

2009-12-24T10:44:00.002+09:00

It's Christmas eve.... I made brownies and bought imported gingersnap cookies to bring to the JHS. In addition, I handsewed some felt ornaments and brought other small gifts for a few select teachers. I also received a couple more gifts myself, which I am saving to open tomorrow. Yay!

Today is the last school day, though there are no classes. Instead, everyone dressed in uniform for the closing ceremony. The Japanese are quite fond of their ceremonies. I watched as the vice principle and principal walked onto the stage. They bowed as they came up on the stage, bowed as they approached the microphone, bowed as they backed away from the microphone, and bowed as they left the stage. If there happen to be other people on the stage, they stopped and bowed to them as well. I hid a smile.

Later we are all going out to lunch, for there is no school lunch today. I am hoping maybe I will be allowed to go home early after lunch without taking time off, since there is nothing to do today. Crossing my fingers!

More updates later,
drummer boy Baer

A few things

2009-12-22T08:26:00.007+09:00

Well, it was quite exciting to come in to work this morning, open my homepage, the New York Times, and see smack in the middle of the page a picture of two men kissing in Mexico City, holding up a victorious sign "Gay Marriage Revoluton" (emphasis on the "love"). A brand new day indeed! I thought it was a little funny that the report said people were shouting "Yes, we could!" when Obama has done nothing at all for his own gay community. A failure to be added to the ongoing war and the latest disaster in Copenhagen. Anyway, it was an exciting, if totally unrelated-to-Japan way to start my day.

I got quite a wonderful surprise yesterday at work. The "tea lady" Yoshida-san, one of the teachers, and the sort of jack-of-all trades of the office, Kakinuma-san, got together to get me a Christmas present. They are the ones that I usually help around the office, so this was their way of saying thank you. It as so sweet! The Kakinuma-san handcarved an adorable little owl for me! He said it is supposed to bring happiness. I was so touched. Both he and Yoshida-san don't speak a lick of English, but they are the sweetest people and I often rely heavily on Yoshida-san especially. I thanked them profusely and even gave Kakinuma-san a bow this morning for his efforts. I am so excited! I have a present to open on Christmas! ha ha, it made my week.

In other news, I forgot to mention that I got sick for the first time since I've been here. It was just a cold though, so nothing serious. I found some wonderful drugs at the drugstore (after standing in the drugstore and staring blankly at the wall of boxes for probably 15 minutes) that dried me up almost immediately. Yay~ Unfortunately, perhaps because of this weather and my constant need to be in it, my throat is already starting to feel icky again.

The reason I mention this especially is because I was a good little (resident alien) citizen and wore a mask at work to keep from spreading my germs. It is true what you see on TV, that everyone here wears masks, especially in public places (like on the train). However, they don't actually do anything unless you are already sick.... a minor detail, by most standards.

As an extra tidbit to this mornings report, I have to show you a little something that came in my school lunch:

Yes, my friends, that is a packet of tiny little dried fish, seasoned with sesame seeds, for your snacking pleasure. I try very hard never to appear phased by what is put in front of me, for it would not do to offend my hosts, but every time this comes in my school lunch, I just have to laugh! I think a severed lamb head could not look anymore out of place sitting on my lunch plate. I get a real kick out of thinking what would happen if you tried to feed this to American school kids (or even my mother!). One teacher, who always criticises me whenever I don't like something, asked why I didn't eat it. I told her, "it's a bit too strong a fish taste for me". She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "I don't think this is fishy at all!"
...
They are almost entirely plain, little tiny dead fish! I don't think, by the very definition, you can get anymore fishy than that!

Cheers,

I'll-stick-to-chicken Baer

I'm blogging, I'm blogging!

2009-12-18T16:26:00.008+09:00

LOL, I get so many complaints that I don't write enough blogs. I'm sorry! I'm glad you guys think my life is interesting enough to warrant daily updates but I am afraid it is just a Japanese version of mundanity. I will give you a few tidbit, to satisfy that rabid curiosity of yours.

First off, it is getting gradually colder here. Not exactly the 15 degrees Fahrenheit that it is in New York, but for a person with no gloves (they're in the mail!), no central heating, and no car... it's pretty cold. It's 50 degrees in my apartment and it is only 4:30 in the afternoon. I find it difficult to get up in the morning because it means leaving the relative warmth of my futon- only to get in a shower that doesn't quite keep the cold air out because the door doesn't close all the way. Then, of course, there is getting out of the shower, which usually involves drying off with a freezing, wet towel because I inevitably forgot to dry it in front of the heater the night before. Even at school, the teachers wear jackets to move between classes in the frigid hallways.

School itself has been alright. I don't know if I ever mentioned it, but I was given an assistant at the elementary, and she translates everything for me between the other teachers and the students. It is heavenly. It has made my working life in that school 100% less stressful. Because there are two of us, we have ended up taking over all the classes, with her taking the place that normally the homeroom teacher would take. The result is that I more or less run all of the classes as the main teacher. It is not so bad because there are set lesson plans that I just have to follow. I love my assistant! I am really sad/scared because I talked to my friend, another JET, Bob, and he told me that our assistants will be leaving us in January.

Noooooooooooooooo!

More bad news, Hashiba-sensei informed me that the school board will be replacing all of the computers in mid-January... and ALTs no longer qualify for having their own computer. Really, it's almost worse news than losing my assistant. I very well might die from boredom. On a more serious note, it really irritates me; Japan is expanding their English education program, so they limit the resources of their English teachers? I'm sorry, can you say that again with a straight face?

Bitterness aside, I have to say again that I am so grateful for this job. I love it. I don't think I will ever not be an awkward panda when it comes to dealing with children/youth, but it is really not such a problem.

Speaking (belatedly) of the elementary, today was my last day of teacher classes for the year. Yay!

Back at home... things have been quiet this month. After my last concerts, plus Xmas presents, plus shipping said Xmas presents, I have less than no money to do anything, so I stay home. It's no so bad, as you read about my Santa adventures. I have not even had to do any cooking lately. The tea lady at my school gives me left overs from every school lunch. I combine that with what I don't eat of my lunch and bring it home for dinner. Instant free meal 4 nights a week. A good money saver and hella easy on me.

Typical School Lunch

Seeing how the weekend is coming up, however, I had to do some cooking to get me through Friday-Sunday. I will teach you the secret to all Japanese cooking: soy sauce, mirin, and sake. You put these three things on anything, and you have easy Japanese cooking. The reason I have not been posting food updates is because, when I do have to cook, that is usually just what I use. I buy whatever meat and vegetables are cheap and/or on sale, throw them in the frying pan, and stir fry in soy sauce, mirin, and sake. Sometimes adding a little sugar is a good idea too, but I usually forget. No matter what recipe I ask my Japanese friends/coworkers about, they always always tell me to cook whatever it is in these three ingredients. It's not fool-safe, but pretty damn close. I don't even measure the amounts anymore.

On the right you can see what I cooked for this weekend. It is beef slices, green beans, green onions, sweet potato, mushrooms, a little fried tofu, and some random lettucy-stuff that I got from the school garden. In soy sauce, mirin, and sake.

I did cook something a little exciting at the same time. I am not sure what it is actually called... I just call it hijiki, because that is the main ingredient, but it's a little like calling a salad merely lettuce. On the left you can see what I am talking about. Hijiki is a very short, very mild tasting seaweed. It has none of the fishy taste that most seaweed has. With it I cooked some sort of soft white bean, and a particular type of thinly sliced tofu that I can only say is fried, because I don't know the name. Cooked in -you guessed it!- soy sauce, mirin, and sake. It's really very good. I am actually missing some ingredients, but I made it based on memory from what I ate in my school lunch, so...

I was told by one of my English teaachers that I was a "fantastic American" because I like hijiki. That made me laugh. Hijiki is nothing. If you can eat natto (I cannot!!), then I think you qualify as "fantastic" (or at least olfactory and taste-bud deprived).

Cheers,

cold Baer

Santa Comes Early

2009-12-14T10:44:00.008+09:00

This last weekend, I had the chance to be Santa Clause.

One of Masa's students - Masa is Yuki's boyfriend and owner of a small English school - was having a Christmas party, and the parents wanted a Santa to come and surprise the kids. Masa was busy, so he asked me to do it, and I gladly agreed.

Last Wednesday, Yuki brought over the costume for me to try on. Predictably, I was nowhere near fat enough to pull off a real Santa, so we improvised. Using the ties for my yukata, I tied a huge pillow around my torso. This looked pretty good, but left me a little lopsided, so I took my Rilakkuma pillow and stuffed it down the back of my pants to give me a big butt. Perfect! One poorly attached beard and some fake eyebrows and I was ready for the show.

The actual party was on Saturday. That morning, I practiced my Santa voice in the shower - the acoustics are good for something other than singing, it turns out. I used the deepest voice I could muster and discovered that, with a little Sean Connery thrown in (he is an epitome of masculinity, after all), it was passable to the non-native ear.

We had some extra time on the way to the party, so when we saw a hill lit up with lights, we decided to stop. I threw on my beard and my swagger, and hammed it up the best I could. Yuki gave me some sleigh bells that I attached to my shoe, so that I jingled with every step I took. There were lots of kids walking around with their parents, and both children and adults alike turned and stared, exclaiming "Santa-san!". Christmas is actually popular here in its own way, but I don't think they have the exposure to fake Santa's that we do in the States. Thus, I think I made quite a spectacle of myself. One little girl, probably 4 years old, was staring at me with such huge little eyes, I had to turn and talk to her, asking if she had been a good little girl, etc. Yuki translated for me. Even some teenagers were following me around, taking pictures with their cell phones. I got quite a kick out of it, and would randomly start talking in a loud voice, such things as "Oh, I wish Rudolf could have come!" "That's a mighty nice tree!" "That castle is nice, but mine is a little bigger", etc. In truth, I could have said anything, recited my grocery list, and it would have had about the same effect, I think. Yuki was laughing so hard she could barely walk.

After waddling back down the hill, we headed to the party. The party was being held at golf club- nice and public! We walked in the entrance and there two unrelated parties being held in side rooms. The parents had prepared a pile of presents, labeled with names, and left them by the door. After the children were made aware of my presence, they came barrelling into the room and skidded to a stop a food away from me, suddenly not so sure if they could hug so strange a personage. I gave a jolly laugh, said a few things, and Yuki translated. There were 7 families there, and quite a few kids. All the moms had their cameras out, snapping pictures, while at least 1 dad had his video camera, catching it all on tape from the first "ho, ho, ho". I called the kids names out, one by one (muddling more than a few, I'm sure) and handed them their presents. I did my best to make a production of it, pretending that some of the bigger presents were too heavy for me to lift. After one particularly ridiculous effort, I stood doubled over, pretending to catch my breath from the effort. This adorable little boy ("I'm 6 years old!") and his older companion were looking at me with the utmost consternation, asking over and over, "Daijoubu, Santa-san? Santa-san, daiijoubu?!" ("Are you ok, Santa? Santa, are you ok?!"). I reassured them, but since I did so in English, they remained quite concerned.

Afterward, we went to a private house to give presents to the children who couldn't come to the party because one of them was sick. They were older children, but seemed to like it a lot anyway. It was fun.

Afterward, we went to Masa's school to pick him up for dinner. I took off my costume. I thought the "hidden Santa" was pretty funny, so I took a picture:

Cheers,

Santa Baer

Fridays

2009-12-04T23:13:00.002+09:00

Ah, Fridays. I have mixed feelings about Fridays. While standard TGIF applies, this also happens to be the one day a week I go to my elementary. For a variety of reasons, the elementary is the part of my job I enjoy the least (to put it kindly). Chief among these is because I am at a serious lingual disadvantage. What if my supporter, who translates for me, to get sick and miss a day? I'd be left in the Japanese equivalent of lingual Siberia. I think the teachers have all quite given up on talking to me, even, perhaps, grown to dislike me a bit. I can only be paranoid as I listen to them chatter, eyeing them over my coffee as I hear my name battered about.

I have to say studying here is a very rewarding process. I have always found studying language to be exciting and rewarding but... actually living here? Everything is just so much more relevant. I once heard someone describe language learning as a process of "leveling up", as in a video game. This is so true. Even just a little bit of study and my ear perk, catching things I didn't catch a moment before. XP, baby (XP=experience points, for you non-geeks). It's almost absurd how excited I get when I stumble on an explanation for a word or grammar point that I hear literally a hundred times a day.

Today was the perfect example.

At the elementary, I don't generally bring my textbooks with me to study because.... it's annoying, and I don't have a real desk to actually store stuff. However, at the end of the day, I once again had a lot of time on my hands and nothing to do. This is made more awkward because one of the support teachers sits right next to me. He's a nice fellow from as far as I can tell, but we sit less than a foot apart, sharing one desk and neither of us really speaks the other's language (any of them)... so, we have thus far mostly ignored each other out of awkwardness.

Today, he saw me practically stabbing myself through the eye with bordom and offered an olive branch. It was pretty freakin' awkward, I'll give you that, because I simply couldn't think of what to say, but it was a legitimate attempt at friendliness that I could not afford to miss out on. So, when he left for a moment, I whipped my mini dictionary out of my purse and started looking up words. lol. When he returned I expertly (pfffft) offered him a compliment on his excellent study of Japanese (he is Brazilian) which he blushingly denied. Aww. In return, he pulled out his sketchbook and let me look through it. I recognized many of the characters from the popular manga Slam Dunk, which I have never read.

Such moments remind me why struggling with textbooks is worth it.

Cheers,

super-suave Baer

JETs Agree: Kabocha is NOT pumpkin

2009-12-01T13:28:00.004+09:00

Last Friday we had a seminar in Maebashi. It was riveting, as usual. However, the real excitement was afterward, when a big group of JETs got together for a belated Thanksgiving. I don't have too much to say. It was not bad. We had turkey (though it was dry), stuffing (though it tasted weird), mashed potatoes (perfect!), gravy, cranberry sauce (I don't eat these things...), so it was pretty legit. I don't think I was the only one, however, who was really holding out for pumpkin pie. That was, unfortunately, quite a disappointment. I don't think anyone gave the cook an actual pumpkin pie recipe so... we had kabocha/squash pie, not really resembling pumpkin pie in any way, shape, or form. I think that if they had had a real recipe, enough cinnamon and ginger could have made kabocha taste more like pumpkin but... c'est la vie. I am just glad I had my own pumpkin pie at home.

(Being dorky and enjoying our pie)

Cheers,

okay-I-think-I've-had-enough-pumpkin-pie-now Baer

Listen

2009-11-26T22:54:00.005+09:00

This conversation is actually from a long time ago, right before V-Rock Festival (I had it saved in a different journal), but it is related to what I was feeling tonight:

I was reminding one of my mentor/coworker that I was taking a day off for the concerts.
They sort of laughed in that knowing way that I've come to recognize as polite, amused, derision for my love of visual kei.
So I asked them, "I have noticed that many Japanese don't have a good impression of VK."
Another derisive laugh.
Me: "You don't like it?"
Teacher: "I think it is.. a little strange."
Me: "Ah, yes. Their outfit are a bit unusual, but I think it just adds to the music-"
Teacher: "So you consider them musician, then?" Very direct.

OMG, this comment just shocked me to silence for a moment.

Me: "Of course!! I wouldn't care about them if I didn't like their music!"
Teacher: "Oh, really? They actually play good music?"
Me: "Yes!! Musicians?! Yoshiki is the most famous musician in Japan!"
Teacher: "Oh, well, yes, Yoshiki is good. He's good.."
Me: "He's the father of visual kei!!" <--- complete disbelief that is conversation is happening.

I'm still reeling. Is that what Japanese people really think? That they are all just a bunch of overpaid crossdressers? The prejudice is just overwhelming. This was actually the first time (not this conversation, but the subject in general) I have come in contact with the rather infamous prejudices of the Japanese... to have it be against something I love so dearly (hello, a MAJOR reason for my interest in Japan!) really rather crushed me like a burnt piece of paper.

Anyway, I think of this conversation often (b/c even close Japanese friends of mine, while being polite, cannot help suppress a laugh when asking me how my concerts went). Like this evening, I was getting depressed thinking about Christmas again, wondering what I was gonna do... and Miyavi pops onto my iTunes singing a soft acoustic song, and it was like... the equivalent of a family member suddenly calling me just when I need to hear a friendly voice. I wish I could impart that feeling to my Japanese friends. It is part of their own culture, after all.

Anyway, this is what came up on my iTunes. you should listen to it. maybe you'll know how I felt.

Miyavi - We love you ~ Sekai wa Kimi wo Aishiteru.mp3

Found at: http://www.filestube.com

Miyavi - Dear my love.mp3

Found at: http://www.filestube.com

Cheers,

382 Baer

Happy Thanksgiving!

2009-11-26T08:24:00.008+09:00

Yay, my 2nd favorite holiday after Halloween!

To celebrate, and educate my sadly unacquainted-with-Thanksgiving co-workers, I decided to make pumpkin pie. Pumpkin pie, like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, is something I only began to crave once I started living abroad. First, in Russian, where I convinced our program director to throw a make-a-pumpkin-pie party, and now here, struggling with a little tiny oven. They are just such American foods, living abroad brings it out in me.

So, my first attempt was actually last Friday. My mother sent me my Grandmother's pumpkin pie recipe, and I had 3 cans of American pumpkin from when she visited me. I know what you are thinking: "Lindsay, you couldn't even manage to bake cookies without burning them, how the heck are you gonna make a pie?" Well, I would be shocked and offended at your doubt in me, but since it is true, I can forgive you. As it turns out, before I started baking the pies I figured out why I ended up with burned outside/mushy inside cookies. It had never occur ed to me before that moment that my oven was actually set in Celcius... a minor culture shock error, except that it had me cooking cookies at about 464 degrees Fahreinheit. Oops.

To the right, you can see my first pumpkin pie (ever!). Sorry, I didn't think to get a picture of it until after I had taste-tested it. Yum. Actually, because I only have a convection oven, it was really more of a pumpkin-tart. Each one is only about 8 inches in diameter in a tart tray. But the intention was pie, so that is what I am going to call it. Anyway, I saved half for myself and gave the other half to Yuki. On Saturday, I made another pie and gave it to my supervisor, Sakazume-sensei. I am really on a quest to prove that American pumpkin and Japanese Kabocha are not the same thing. What are they more likely to believe than their own taste buds?

I discovered that because my pies were so small, the recipe I had actually made 3 pies worth of filling, and 2 pies worth of crust. I suddenly had a great deal more pumpkin than I thought I had. The only annoyance was buying butter. Butter is expensive! To buy a 200g pack (2 sticks) is about $4.50! Each recipe calls for 1 whole stick of butter (so, half a stick of butter in each of my mini-pies). I was able to find some cheaper butter later, but still, I ended up spending about $12 on butter! I asked Yuki about this and she said that the government actually had requested that only a small amount of butter be produced (because it is unhealthy, I imagine). She said, even a couple months ago, you would have been hard pressed to find even a single stick of butter. Unbelievable. A country that loves deep fried food almost as much as Texas, and they are afraid of butter. Huff.

Anyway, ignoring my rapidly lightening wallet, I had plenty of supplies to make lots of pumpkin pie. So I did! Last night I made 5 pumpkin pies! Actually, I even still have enough filling and crust to make 1 more, but I was so damn tired (not from cooking, just in general) that I opted for bed instead.

Thanks to my efforts, I had 4 lovely pumpkin pies to take with me to school today for my teachers. Aren't they beautiful!

Hashiba-sensei is always remarking, after I have told her about my latest kitchen-adventure, on how much I like to cook. Somehow, I feel like this is not quite accurate. My mother likes to cook. I just like to eat. and I like to surprise people with unexpected gifts. Cooking just sort of becomes a necessity, doesn't it? Does the fact that you like to be clean mean you love taking showers? or that you just don't want to be a one-man island on the subway. You decide.

In the meantime, I'm gonna have some pie. mmm pie.

Cheers,

pumpkin Baer

Apartment Life

2009-11-19T18:45:00.003+09:00

I know I am long overdue on posting pictures of my apartment. My apologies. However, there are some things about living here that don't show up in pictures. Just little things. First there is the man that lives... somewhere.. near me, who likes to sing. I don't know what it is he sings, but the wobbly old man voice makes me think he is a fan of enka (look it up on YouTube). He only sings at night and only for a relatively short period of time. It occurred to me that he might be a singing-in-the-shower kind of guy. I wonder if he knows all of his neighbors are in his shower with him.

When my evening soundtrack is not old-man warbling, there's also the cat fights. First time I heard the cats in neighborhood crying, I thought it was one seriously upset (human) baby. Except it just kept going on and on, one continues painful wail, and I was wondering, why the heck nobody was taking care of this baby? The animal finally had a catch in its breath long enough for me to identify it. Gods, I've never heard a cat make a sound like that. It really sounded human. Now it is not so much the crying I hear, but occasional cat fights. I've never heard a cat fight before either, but man... there must be some seriously unhappy cats living in this neighborhood. Their bark must be bigger than their bite or there would be nothing left.

Winter is starting to sneak up on us. In the interest of keeping costs down as much as possible, I have resisted using my heaters. However, now that it is consistently 52 degrees in my apartment every evening, I have given in somewhat. I pamper myself with a little space heater in the living room, where I spend most of my time. It heats the small room up to about 65 or so, which is just fine for me. However, going to sleep and getting up in the morning is still a painfully chilly dash, as I don't put the heater in there. I have a big fluffy down comforter that, with some socks on, keeps me warm. A month ago I laughed at my friend Mark, who is from London, for searching for a hot water bottle. We had a long discussion on the differences between American and British conveniences (did you know they don't use pot holders?). I'm not laughing anymore. I think I will put it on my shopping list for next time I go to the mall.

It seems like this month has flown by. I was just at the hyaku-en shop ($ store) tonight and saw that they have quite a bit of Christmas stuff out. I even found some icicle lights (for 100 yen!) ! I want to get some blue ones and hang them along the wall of my little living room. It will be kind of like my freshman year of college, lol.

I can't believe we are almost to December. I am really starting to get bummed about Christmas. Even if the religious significance is lost to me, it is still a pretty deeply ingrained holiday/tradition. The idea of getting up on Christmas morning, ALONE with NO tree, NO stocking, NO presents, NO cinnamon rolls... and then having to go to WORK! Ugh. I haven't had any homesickness at all since I have been here, but I think I am going to be really depressed on December 25th. Send me some love, ok? I think I will make some little gifts of some kind to take to work with me, give myself something nice to focus on/look forward to.

In the mean time, Thanksgiving is almost here. I am attempting to make some pumpkin pie with the canned pumpkin my mother was kind enough to bring me. There actually IS a Thanksgiving party for JETs next Friday (so I will actually be celebrating the same day as all of you back home! ha ha) so, fortunately, it is one holiday I wont have to miss out on.

I'm gonna go fight my not-so-easy-bake oven now.

Cheers,

just Baer