The Face of Gunma TV

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

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?!

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

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

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...?

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

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

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!

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