Monday, August 3, 2009

Work is killing me

...but not because of the actual work.

During the nine months total I worked at DigiLore in quaint Milford, Ohio for my previous co-op, I was invited to a total of one (1) event, which I couldn't attend, due to already having plans.

In a wild contrast sits my first few weeks of working in Japan at GNF; I've been invited to five events and attended four, with another three to come this week alone.

It is a little overwhelming for one of my nature - that is to say, generally adventurous but in a relaxing kind of way. I have never been one to run about looking for parties to attend (though I've never actually turned down an invitation either).

On Friday evening, I participated in hosting the annual GNF festival, held to appease the locals who might otherwise be concerned by the nuclear facility in their neghborhood. In other words, I made yakisoba for a couple hours!

Yakisoba, for the uninitiated, is an easily-prepared and popular festival foodstuff in Japan. Yakisoba means "fried noodles," and contrary to the name does not actually contain soba noodles. You toss some meat on the grill, put some seasoning on it, follow it up with cabbage and other veggies of choice, add the noodles, add the sauce, cooking the whole way. Voila! Easy!

Also delicious.

I got yelled at for working too hard. O: They told me to take a break, eventually, so I did. During said break, one of my coworkers wanted to introduce me to her daughter. No, not like that! She was a little girl, about ten or so. I think she was afraid of me! She was adorable in her little yukata.

While I was working, the festival attendees enjoyed the festivities. Many, like the little girl, were dressed in their yukata, which is always a plus. For the kids, some performers put on a show of Samurai Sentai Shinkenger. There was some traditional dancing, too. Prizes galore. All in all, a good time. I enjoyed myself, even though I was working almost the whole time.

Near the end, I was informed that after we cleaned up, we'd move on to "next stage." After explaining that next stage was drinking, he asked if I wanted to come. Naturally, I said yes!

Let's just say I got drunk again. Drinking with Japanese people is hilarious because before we begin consumption, everything they say to me sounds forced like they're trying to bring me into the fold but are too shy to do so... but then after a few drinks, and a few more, they start asking me what I think of the women I work with and I'm like whoa is that appropriate. Especially when one of them is sitting a mere ten feet away! She came over as soon as the question arose so I ended up not having to answer. (P.S., she's both nice and attractive. Anyway, doesn't matter.)

The night came to a close.

NEXT MORNING - beach time with Matt and Tyler! I love the beach. I want to live on the beach. The beach makes me a happier person. A better, friendlier person! At least that's what Tyler said. His exact words: "I've never seen you this happy before."

I've ridden that train of thought plenty of times before. Thinking about the beach always cheers me up. When I listen to, for example, Jimmy Buffet, I instantly think of the beach and instantly I am a happier man, for the moment. Still! It's not just the beach! It's everything to do with the ocean. When I was a kid, it wasn't computers that I wanted to work with the most. No, no, no! It was definitely underwater photography. I mean, have you seen any of it? So pretty. )': Lately I've been wishing I had stuck with that dream.

But I digress. The day at the beach was wonderful and filled with many bikini-clad Japanese women, whose beauty was only overshadowed by mine. I kid, I kid. I'm hideous!

Good day, though. I swam more on Saturday than I have in ages. I don't swim as much as I'd like to. I'm still a bit sore - though not near as sore as I was after climbing Mt. Fuji. After the day at the beach, we went back to my place for the fireworks party with my fellow residents. Again, there was much drinking to be had. Do I see a pattern emerging?

The night ended, and Sunday was rather uneventful - thankfully. Worn out and hungover.

But Monday brought forth a promise made Friday night. Ramen after work! It was a promise made while drinking that night, so naturally, someone forgot all about it. Not me, of course. I love good ramen.

And holy shit was this good ramen. Easily the best I've ever had. Unlike every ramen meal I've had before, this one came with noodles separate from soup. So there's this gigantic bowl of noodles and this tiny bowl of soup, you dip the noodles in the soup, and go to town. I've had cold soba noodles like that before, but never ramen!

THE BEST. Ramen. I've ever had. !

I consumed my meal much slower than my Japanese counterparts. They most certainly reminded me of the stereotypical anime caricature where ramen is virtually inhaled. It was quite impressive. I glance over and see that their bowls are empty of noodles and mine is still half full. Inwardly, I say "wow." Outwardly, I simply chuckle. Hearing my chuckle, they glance toward me, notice my bowl, and also laugh - perhaps at me, perhaps with me. Or both.

I've got the technique down! The secret is to both slurp AND use chopsticks. This also helps prevent the mess of liquid flying every which way as the noodles flick and twirl. It's just the speed I can't handle, yet. If I go too fast, that control slips away and the mess returns.

I am given a ride home, and after a hastily mumbled arigatou gozaimasu, I exit the car and return to my room, once again satisfied with a night well spent. Only this time there's no hangover to look forward to the following morning!

My only regret is that I took no pictures on Friday or Monday (on account of I don't take my camera to work). Yes, I still have the memories, but goddamn if there weren't some good photographic opportunities.

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