I was in Nara until a few hours ago.
I like Nara! It is a city, for sure, but it does not contain the typical towering monoliths every which way and, I dunno, it is a small city. I like small when it comes to cities!
Last night, I met Kira and we ate katsudon (my first time since coming back from Korea!!) and then wandered around for a while. It was late, so everything was closed! Except for food.
But before that, I walked around in Nara Park for a couple hours, and it was nice. I narrowly avoided deer droppings multiple times.
Speaking of deer droppings... The deer in Nara are protected by law. And also a popular tourist attraction. For a mere buck fiddy, one can purchase a bundle of deer snacks from one of many stalls guarded by elderly women. If one chooses to do so, one will be immediately mobbed by a multitude of deer. What is a group of deer called?
I watched in great amusement as various tourists bought deer snacks and then yelped in surprise.
My question is what the hell voodoo magic are those old women using to ward off the deer horde. I suspect they wield those poop-sweeping brooms with deadly accuracy, but I sadly have no evidence to support my theory.
Ahem.
I also visited a temple, of course. It wouldn't be vacation (apparently) if I didn't visit an old cultural premise every day.
At the temple, I took a picture of something when the sign said no pictures. I'm such a rebel! But then I went to the temple's museum, with a half-empty bottle of Coke in hand. I noticed an exceptional number of guards (or what amounts to guards, I suppose) around the place, and because I was trying to find the right time to sneak more pictures, I made note of where they all were. But getting a picture was impossible. After resolving myself to this, I sighed wistfully and opened the bottle for a sip.
The sound of the carbonation escaping drew the ire of a veritable mob of Japanese museum guards. I think the one actually jumped out of his chair!
In true comedic fashion, I stared wide-eyed and nonchalantly put the cap back on. Satisfied, they returned to their stations, and I awkwardly explored the rest of the displays.
Today, however, I went to see Nara's Big Buddha. So now I've seen... Tokyo's, Kyoto's, and Nara's. I am a certifiable Big Buddha Expert. It was nothing special, I gotta say.
I lie, it was pretty spectacular. And big.
But now I am in Hiroshima, and having rested, I will go out and visit Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park and Genbaku Dome.
Showing posts with label the natives. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the natives. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Absorbing the station
Today I left the capsule hotel. I completely forgot to take a picture of my box! Ahhh! A shame. ):
Since I had to check out at 10am, and couldn't check into my new hotel until 3pm, I had to waste time. I didn't want to wander around shrines and temples and whatnots carrying my luggage, after all. I chose to find a coffee shop and sit and read for a while! It was fantastic. (Partly because I was exhausted from heavy sightseeing the day prior. I tire easily. What can I say.)
I found a Mister Donut/Cafe du... Monde? I dunno. Some little combo shop at the JR Kyoto station. I devoured a couple donuts and sipped an ice coffee while reading some Discworld.
You can never go wrong with Discworld. Never.
Pulled out my PSP for a bit, too, to continue my ever so slow exploration of the latest dungeon in Grandia. Having rested, recuperated, and otherwise re'd, I decided it was time to head to my new hotel. I'd read enough Discworld and played enough Grandia and eaten enough donuts and drank enough orange juice for the day.
Caught the subway. Got off at the appropriate stop: Shijo station. It's here that I kind of... turned Gomer Pile again. But it wasn't all me, this time!
I wasn't sure where to go, so I walked to a nearby police station and asked for directions. I forgot to write down the address for this hotel, just like the last one, but I was hoping they'd be more helpful than a Family Mart clerk! One of the officers recognized the name and showed it to me on a map. Not far!
I left, and suddenly recalled reading on the website that there were TWO hotels by that name in Kyoto, and so I grew a tad worried. I called Matt hoping he'd be at home and not busy, but he didn't answer. But wait! I can... access the internet on my phone, can't I? Hm. Yeah! I can! Oh.
So getting the address was easy after my revelation. I walked back to make sure it was the same address, and something went terribly wrong.
I don't think the officer knew what she was talking about. She told me to go to Shijo station, and said I'd have to take the subway. But... I came out of Shijo station to get where I was - at the police station. I tried to explain this, but I don't think she understood. After a few more failed attempts at explaining/questioning, I gave up. The one good thing that came out of the encounter: thanks to her calling the hotel, I learned the hotel was near Takashimaya, a big department store.
I interrogated the natives around the area until I found Takashimaya and from there found my hotel with ease.
Boo boo booooo I arrived! A tad early, apparently. The automatic doors wouldn't open. I guess when they say "check in at 3pm" they mean 3:00, and not 2:53. Tch.
I wandered the next-door clothing store to waste time and am happy to report that, yes, I could not find a single shirt or pair of pants that would fit me. ]:
LATER THAT NIGHT
Due to massive communication failures on my part (noticing a trend with failure and me, yet?), I did not have anyone with whom I would see MOUNTAINS ON FIRE. Go me.
It's cool, though. I ended up spending literally two hours just walking around a quiet Kyoto suburb. And by suburb I mean a neighborhood on the other side of a very active street.
It was remarkably quiet, and I saw very few people for what was soon to be a night of MOUNTAINS ON FIRE. Turns out I was just not wandering far enough, as eventually I discovered what was, apparently, the "best" viewing spot? Didn't look so hot to me. I'd found a much better spot to see the mountain's large 大 kanji. In fact, you can see it during the day, even when it's not on fire. My spot was just in the middle of the suburbs on some street.
After walking around in circles for a while, I noticed others congregating near my spot. Time to hunker down, baby.
As I expected, it wasn't a particularly exciting event, like, say, fireworks. Even the Japanese, not exactly known for holding back, didn't express much awe. It was kind of bizarre. There was a little boy who kept singing and marching back and forth across the street. It was adorable, aww.
It was neat, overall, despite the lack of celebration. I got a buuunch of crappy quality pictures. Such is life.
Back at the hotel, my tummy made noises, and my nose led me to McD's. The tamago double mac looked scrumptious.
It was scrumptious.
Daaaamn it was scrumptious.
Since I had to check out at 10am, and couldn't check into my new hotel until 3pm, I had to waste time. I didn't want to wander around shrines and temples and whatnots carrying my luggage, after all. I chose to find a coffee shop and sit and read for a while! It was fantastic. (Partly because I was exhausted from heavy sightseeing the day prior. I tire easily. What can I say.)
I found a Mister Donut/Cafe du... Monde? I dunno. Some little combo shop at the JR Kyoto station. I devoured a couple donuts and sipped an ice coffee while reading some Discworld.
You can never go wrong with Discworld. Never.
Pulled out my PSP for a bit, too, to continue my ever so slow exploration of the latest dungeon in Grandia. Having rested, recuperated, and otherwise re'd, I decided it was time to head to my new hotel. I'd read enough Discworld and played enough Grandia and eaten enough donuts and drank enough orange juice for the day.
Caught the subway. Got off at the appropriate stop: Shijo station. It's here that I kind of... turned Gomer Pile again. But it wasn't all me, this time!
I wasn't sure where to go, so I walked to a nearby police station and asked for directions. I forgot to write down the address for this hotel, just like the last one, but I was hoping they'd be more helpful than a Family Mart clerk! One of the officers recognized the name and showed it to me on a map. Not far!
I left, and suddenly recalled reading on the website that there were TWO hotels by that name in Kyoto, and so I grew a tad worried. I called Matt hoping he'd be at home and not busy, but he didn't answer. But wait! I can... access the internet on my phone, can't I? Hm. Yeah! I can! Oh.
So getting the address was easy after my revelation. I walked back to make sure it was the same address, and something went terribly wrong.
I don't think the officer knew what she was talking about. She told me to go to Shijo station, and said I'd have to take the subway. But... I came out of Shijo station to get where I was - at the police station. I tried to explain this, but I don't think she understood. After a few more failed attempts at explaining/questioning, I gave up. The one good thing that came out of the encounter: thanks to her calling the hotel, I learned the hotel was near Takashimaya, a big department store.
I interrogated the natives around the area until I found Takashimaya and from there found my hotel with ease.
Boo boo booooo I arrived! A tad early, apparently. The automatic doors wouldn't open. I guess when they say "check in at 3pm" they mean 3:00, and not 2:53. Tch.
I wandered the next-door clothing store to waste time and am happy to report that, yes, I could not find a single shirt or pair of pants that would fit me. ]:
LATER THAT NIGHT
Due to massive communication failures on my part (noticing a trend with failure and me, yet?), I did not have anyone with whom I would see MOUNTAINS ON FIRE. Go me.
It's cool, though. I ended up spending literally two hours just walking around a quiet Kyoto suburb. And by suburb I mean a neighborhood on the other side of a very active street.
It was remarkably quiet, and I saw very few people for what was soon to be a night of MOUNTAINS ON FIRE. Turns out I was just not wandering far enough, as eventually I discovered what was, apparently, the "best" viewing spot? Didn't look so hot to me. I'd found a much better spot to see the mountain's large 大 kanji. In fact, you can see it during the day, even when it's not on fire. My spot was just in the middle of the suburbs on some street.
After walking around in circles for a while, I noticed others congregating near my spot. Time to hunker down, baby.
As I expected, it wasn't a particularly exciting event, like, say, fireworks. Even the Japanese, not exactly known for holding back, didn't express much awe. It was kind of bizarre. There was a little boy who kept singing and marching back and forth across the street. It was adorable, aww.
It was neat, overall, despite the lack of celebration. I got a buuunch of crappy quality pictures. Such is life.
Back at the hotel, my tummy made noises, and my nose led me to McD's. The tamago double mac looked scrumptious.
It was scrumptious.
Daaaamn it was scrumptious.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Bowling with demons
I'm not a huge fan of bowling. I enjoy it on occasion, but due to my lack of precision and accuracy when sending that ball down the lane, I never score well. Even so, I agreed to join my coworkers for their monthly bowling excursion. What follows is a horrifying tale of terrifying travesties and frightening foibles...
Last Friday, as work's end draws near, JJF reminds me of the upcoming bowling excursion and beckons me to follow. I oblige. Prior to this day, they had asked my average score, and I answered unashamedly: about 100. Like I said - I am bad. After finding seats on the bus, next to fellow bowlers, he again brings up my score, as if mocking me. But, being a JJF, I know he's not. How could he!
We arrive at the train station and continue our harrowing journey to the bowling alley. Upon arriving, I declare my shoe-size: 32cm. But, uhhh... I try out 32cm and they are way too big. So I put on 31cm. They feel a little too big, still, but I figure I'll give 'em a shot first. I walk over to our 8 or 10 lanes (I forget) reserved for our group. At the moment there is only one other person. He dons his bowling shirt.
JJF returns, now bearing his own bowling shirt. Someone else arrives with donuts. I eat one. It is a donut.
I glance up from my donut and am greeted by an army of my coworkers, all wearing the same bowling shirt, rubbing some crazy chemicals on their fingers, man I don't even know what the what!
A woman arrives and takes a seat at the lane to my left. Her bowling ball is encased in a Hello Kitty wrapping. The pressure is overwhelming! The walls, closing in! Calm down. Caaaalm.
Some kind of voodoo magic shit going on. Yeesh.
We bowl a few practice frames. I manage two strikes. Above average for me. (Usually one a game.) In the first five frames of the first game, I manage to get two gutter balls. On the first throw. Nice.
My boss tells me to relax. Makes a show of rolling his shoulders. RELAX! How the hell am I supposed to relax you've all got some steampunk apparati surgically attached to your wrists what is that gear even FOR?!
Three games. 119. 95. 135. Not bad for me. Phew.
Time to drink.
Last Friday, as work's end draws near, JJF reminds me of the upcoming bowling excursion and beckons me to follow. I oblige. Prior to this day, they had asked my average score, and I answered unashamedly: about 100. Like I said - I am bad. After finding seats on the bus, next to fellow bowlers, he again brings up my score, as if mocking me. But, being a JJF, I know he's not. How could he!
We arrive at the train station and continue our harrowing journey to the bowling alley. Upon arriving, I declare my shoe-size: 32cm. But, uhhh... I try out 32cm and they are way too big. So I put on 31cm. They feel a little too big, still, but I figure I'll give 'em a shot first. I walk over to our 8 or 10 lanes (I forget) reserved for our group. At the moment there is only one other person. He dons his bowling shirt.
JJF returns, now bearing his own bowling shirt. Someone else arrives with donuts. I eat one. It is a donut.
I glance up from my donut and am greeted by an army of my coworkers, all wearing the same bowling shirt, rubbing some crazy chemicals on their fingers, man I don't even know what the what!
A woman arrives and takes a seat at the lane to my left. Her bowling ball is encased in a Hello Kitty wrapping. The pressure is overwhelming! The walls, closing in! Calm down. Caaaalm.
Some kind of voodoo magic shit going on. Yeesh.
We bowl a few practice frames. I manage two strikes. Above average for me. (Usually one a game.) In the first five frames of the first game, I manage to get two gutter balls. On the first throw. Nice.
My boss tells me to relax. Makes a show of rolling his shoulders. RELAX! How the hell am I supposed to relax you've all got some steampunk apparati surgically attached to your wrists what is that gear even FOR?!
Three games. 119. 95. 135. Not bad for me. Phew.
Time to drink.
I <3 my JJF
I have what I like to call my own, personal jovial Japanese fellow.
His name is Kobayashi-san, and he always greets me with a smile.
Every day, at least once, he walks by my desk, slow as a sleeping rabbit, until I notice him. Then he smiles and waves, and walks away without a word. Some days it is as soon as I arrive in the morning, and other days it is almost immediately before I leave.
He also sort of looks ancient, but has the posture and energy of a five year old, and smokes, of course!
Every time there is a work event (whether it is an after-work party, or a during-work festival preparation or perimeter cleaning) he is glad to lead the way and show me how it's done.
When we go drinking, he is always prodding me to try the food, whatever it may be. Or encouraging me in my slowly-developing alcoholic habits.
He is so cheery! It is adorable!
I recommend everyone find their own jovial Japanese fellow to brighten their day. It works wonders for me!
His name is Kobayashi-san, and he always greets me with a smile.
Every day, at least once, he walks by my desk, slow as a sleeping rabbit, until I notice him. Then he smiles and waves, and walks away without a word. Some days it is as soon as I arrive in the morning, and other days it is almost immediately before I leave.
He also sort of looks ancient, but has the posture and energy of a five year old, and smokes, of course!
Every time there is a work event (whether it is an after-work party, or a during-work festival preparation or perimeter cleaning) he is glad to lead the way and show me how it's done.
When we go drinking, he is always prodding me to try the food, whatever it may be. Or encouraging me in my slowly-developing alcoholic habits.
He is so cheery! It is adorable!
I recommend everyone find their own jovial Japanese fellow to brighten their day. It works wonders for me!
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.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
oh geez
Two nights ago was perhaps one of the more genuine Japanese experiences I've had in the past four months.
It was a welcoming party for me and two other gaijin to the company dormitory. (The other two had actually been here for two months already, and if I understand correctly are going back to America in only a couple weeks. A little late, p'rhaps?)
It was a drinking party. Nomihoudai. All you can drink. Along with several courses of tofu-centric dishes. Some shabu shabu. It was all good food. Would eat again. But the drinking, goddamn. PROTIP: if you don't want any more, do not empty your glass. Probably seems obvious, right. I just have a habit of always eating or drinking what's in front of me.
I'm having a hard time remembering it all. But, uh, I remember some things.
Apparently, for a "massage" I should go to the Mos Burger street late at night.
At one point I was asked if I liked American girls or Japanese girls. I answered truthfully: both. They found this hilarious. "At least you answered honestly!" Oh! Okay no problem!?
Later on, they asked if I had a girlfriend. I again answered thruthfully: no. Then they broke out in rapid Japanese conversation for a few minutes. I don't know what that means.
But hey, after much drinking, it was time to go. So go we did; up and outta there. I didn't have to pay, 'cause they were awesome and it was my welcome party I guess!
Upon leaving the building, I don't remember much. I think they asked if I liked karaoke, and I probably said yes, and maybe I like The Beatles... it's all very fuzzy. A typical drunken stupor.
But then! This old lady emerged from some deep, dark cave, eyes alight with greedy delight at the prospect of luring our drunken souls into her den. Therein, she would proceed to drain us for all our worth! Well, all their worth. Once again, they told me I didn't have to pay a dime. Or yen, as the case may be. I was only too happy to oblige, considering I don't think I could have counted out the money I needed at that point.
We followed her inside a building, and I was informed this was a karaoke bar where the girls sit with you and pour you drinks while you enjoy the karaoke. We sat. Girls surrounded us. I was told "that girl is going to sit between us" so I stood and let her sit between us!
I vaguely remember selecting and singing The Beatles, Come Together in a super hoarse and completely terrible voice. I more vividly remember singing Green Day, Basketcase with one of the guys I was with. I very vividly remember the lyrics on the screen being wrong. Reason being, back when I was super into Green Day, I remember the lyrics in the CD booklet ALSO being wrong. For one line in particular. Or at least it always sounded wrong to my ears. Maybe Billy what's-his-face just slurred the hell out of it. "Am I just paranoid? I'm just stoned!" always sounded more like "Am I just paranoid? Am I just stoned?!" to me!
Anyway, aside from that, I only remember one other thing at the place. They kept pointing to the woman "between us" and shouting "your mother, yo mazaa!" I think. When I finally figured out they were saying it, I asked why, and they asked how old my mother was.
D:
Then we walked back to the apartment building and to our respective rooms. I remembered harrassing internet denizens unashamedly for about ten minutes before I passed out. Oh boy.
Long story short: I was drunk, in Japan, with Japanese people, on a Tuesday evening. Hurray! (?)
It was a welcoming party for me and two other gaijin to the company dormitory. (The other two had actually been here for two months already, and if I understand correctly are going back to America in only a couple weeks. A little late, p'rhaps?)
It was a drinking party. Nomihoudai. All you can drink. Along with several courses of tofu-centric dishes. Some shabu shabu. It was all good food. Would eat again. But the drinking, goddamn. PROTIP: if you don't want any more, do not empty your glass. Probably seems obvious, right. I just have a habit of always eating or drinking what's in front of me.
I'm having a hard time remembering it all. But, uh, I remember some things.
Apparently, for a "massage" I should go to the Mos Burger street late at night.
At one point I was asked if I liked American girls or Japanese girls. I answered truthfully: both. They found this hilarious. "At least you answered honestly!" Oh! Okay no problem!?
Later on, they asked if I had a girlfriend. I again answered thruthfully: no. Then they broke out in rapid Japanese conversation for a few minutes. I don't know what that means.
But hey, after much drinking, it was time to go. So go we did; up and outta there. I didn't have to pay, 'cause they were awesome and it was my welcome party I guess!
Upon leaving the building, I don't remember much. I think they asked if I liked karaoke, and I probably said yes, and maybe I like The Beatles... it's all very fuzzy. A typical drunken stupor.
But then! This old lady emerged from some deep, dark cave, eyes alight with greedy delight at the prospect of luring our drunken souls into her den. Therein, she would proceed to drain us for all our worth! Well, all their worth. Once again, they told me I didn't have to pay a dime. Or yen, as the case may be. I was only too happy to oblige, considering I don't think I could have counted out the money I needed at that point.
We followed her inside a building, and I was informed this was a karaoke bar where the girls sit with you and pour you drinks while you enjoy the karaoke. We sat. Girls surrounded us. I was told "that girl is going to sit between us" so I stood and let her sit between us!
I vaguely remember selecting and singing The Beatles, Come Together in a super hoarse and completely terrible voice. I more vividly remember singing Green Day, Basketcase with one of the guys I was with. I very vividly remember the lyrics on the screen being wrong. Reason being, back when I was super into Green Day, I remember the lyrics in the CD booklet ALSO being wrong. For one line in particular. Or at least it always sounded wrong to my ears. Maybe Billy what's-his-face just slurred the hell out of it. "Am I just paranoid? I'm just stoned!" always sounded more like "Am I just paranoid? Am I just stoned?!" to me!
Anyway, aside from that, I only remember one other thing at the place. They kept pointing to the woman "between us" and shouting "your mother, yo mazaa!" I think. When I finally figured out they were saying it, I asked why, and they asked how old my mother was.
D:
Then we walked back to the apartment building and to our respective rooms. I remembered harrassing internet denizens unashamedly for about ten minutes before I passed out. Oh boy.
Long story short: I was drunk, in Japan, with Japanese people, on a Tuesday evening. Hurray! (?)
Monday, July 27, 2009
Costco more like Failco more like Winco, too
The morning following fireworks, Matt fixed us some French toast. Aww, so sweet! And so sorely missed! O:
Then we went to Costco. They sell American foodstuffs at wholesale price. Even in Japan! I wanted some root beer, and Matt wanted some graham crackers and marshmallows for smores with his coworkers.
It was boiling hot outside, but we went anyway. Upon arriving, we were dismayed to find that there is no way to buy anything from Costco except to be a member, which costs, if I recall correctly, 4,280 yen. Or close to.
So the guy we were talking to (who thankfully spoke good enough English to get his point across) told Matt that he should buy a membership now, get what he wanted, and come back in a few days to cancel the membership, with a schtick about how the customer service was bad or some such. This would warrant a refund, he said.
I thought this was hilarious! He was telling us to lie to the store in order to get out of being a member, after taking advantage of being a member. Keep on keepin' on, dude.
Matt was hesitant about lying, and trying to come up with less untrue excuses for wanting to cancel, like "oh, I'm leaving Japan in a month." The guy kept saying, "No, that's not good enough, say you got food poisoning or something." (Okay I made that one up, but I'm sure had I suggested it, he would've thought it was a GRAND idea.)
Nonetheless, Matt bought a membership and we proceeded inward...
Turns out my favorite part of this type of store when I was a kid is still my favorite part: samples. I got some sashimi, some smoked southwestern-style salmon, some strawberries, and more more more. Greatness!
I found my root beer. It is great. I've never heard of this brand before (Dad's Old Fashioned Root Beer) but I was later assured it is jin-yoo-wine American brand. I don't particularly care, though. ROOT BEER. Protip: root beer doesn't exist in normal Japan.
Matt found his jumbo marshmallows, but couldn't find his graham crackers. We looked in many places, to no avail. Matt was furious. Enraged! Incensed. He canceled his membership posthaste - as soon as we paid for our food!
Ah, good times.
Now came the hard part: carrying this all to Robert's. I mentioned before it was boiling hot outside. That did not change during our shopping extravaganza. ):
Luckily, a nearby bus stop alleviated the pain of carrying everything we had on foot.
Blah blah blah boring description of boring trip - ARRIVAL.
The food at Robert's was great, of course. I enjoyed my root beer as a supplement to the many dishes, including but not limited to maabo dofu (a newly-discovered favorite Chinese dish of mine which consists of tofu in a spicy meat sauce, usually served with rice), a pork and cabbage lettuce wrap thing, and good ol' kimchi.
It was an enjoyable time.
Ironically, I forgot to take pictures of his many dishes AGAIN. I promised myself I would remember after forgetting the first time he did this. But then I didn't remember.
Addendum: I am hilarious. Or at least the things I say produce much laughter. But no, I'm hilarious. Feel free to agree with me, but don't disagree. If you do I know you're lying.
Then we went to Costco. They sell American foodstuffs at wholesale price. Even in Japan! I wanted some root beer, and Matt wanted some graham crackers and marshmallows for smores with his coworkers.
It was boiling hot outside, but we went anyway. Upon arriving, we were dismayed to find that there is no way to buy anything from Costco except to be a member, which costs, if I recall correctly, 4,280 yen. Or close to.
So the guy we were talking to (who thankfully spoke good enough English to get his point across) told Matt that he should buy a membership now, get what he wanted, and come back in a few days to cancel the membership, with a schtick about how the customer service was bad or some such. This would warrant a refund, he said.
I thought this was hilarious! He was telling us to lie to the store in order to get out of being a member, after taking advantage of being a member. Keep on keepin' on, dude.
Matt was hesitant about lying, and trying to come up with less untrue excuses for wanting to cancel, like "oh, I'm leaving Japan in a month." The guy kept saying, "No, that's not good enough, say you got food poisoning or something." (Okay I made that one up, but I'm sure had I suggested it, he would've thought it was a GRAND idea.)
Nonetheless, Matt bought a membership and we proceeded inward...
Turns out my favorite part of this type of store when I was a kid is still my favorite part: samples. I got some sashimi, some smoked southwestern-style salmon, some strawberries, and more more more. Greatness!
I found my root beer. It is great. I've never heard of this brand before (Dad's Old Fashioned Root Beer) but I was later assured it is jin-yoo-wine American brand. I don't particularly care, though. ROOT BEER. Protip: root beer doesn't exist in normal Japan.
Matt found his jumbo marshmallows, but couldn't find his graham crackers. We looked in many places, to no avail. Matt was furious. Enraged! Incensed. He canceled his membership posthaste - as soon as we paid for our food!
Ah, good times.
Now came the hard part: carrying this all to Robert's. I mentioned before it was boiling hot outside. That did not change during our shopping extravaganza. ):
Luckily, a nearby bus stop alleviated the pain of carrying everything we had on foot.
Blah blah blah boring description of boring trip - ARRIVAL.
The food at Robert's was great, of course. I enjoyed my root beer as a supplement to the many dishes, including but not limited to maabo dofu (a newly-discovered favorite Chinese dish of mine which consists of tofu in a spicy meat sauce, usually served with rice), a pork and cabbage lettuce wrap thing, and good ol' kimchi.
It was an enjoyable time.
Ironically, I forgot to take pictures of his many dishes AGAIN. I promised myself I would remember after forgetting the first time he did this. But then I didn't remember.
Addendum: I am hilarious. Or at least the things I say produce much laughter. But no, I'm hilarious. Feel free to agree with me, but don't disagree. If you do I know you're lying.
Boom, boom, boom
My weekend adventures were pretty great, as far as weekend adventures go. Fireworks and chillin'. What more could I ask for?
When I accidentally left a little later than I intended, I thought it would make me a little late. However, I ended up arriving at the meeting place almost an hour late! Which was sort of okay because Matt was also late. (Even later than me!) Unfortunately, Tyler had already come and gone by that time, since we had no way of contacting him. I felt bad, but it's not like I could do anything about it.
So I met Matt's Japanese friend, Tomo, who'd been there since the actual meeting time, and we waited for Matt. He spoked da gooder Amurrcan then I didded Japanse. Jealous!
Matt arrived and we traipsed along to our destination.
It's at this point I feel I should point out I've been wearing sandals since I left my apartment for fireworks. I'm not used to wearing sandals while out and about. Flippy-floppies, to be exact. I couldn't make my feet walk "normal." It felt weird.
Soon enough, we were at our destination - a large field! The fireworks had just started, but Tomo's family was already there saving a spot with a large blanket. We found them, introductions were made, and the celebration began!
It was pretty rad.
We had edamame (soybeans) to munch on, and some sushi rolls to devour. I accidentally grabbed the nattou roll, but Tomo saved me just as I was about to take a large bite. Phew! Instead I ate a shrimp roll. It was ever so delightful!
The fireworks were pretty great, too, of course! I think it was literally the first time I've ever had a camera in my hands while watching fireworks. Which is strange, but I guess now that I think about it, not entirely unbelievable. At any rate, I thoroughly enjoyed taking a ton of pictures, and managed a few that I really like. Eventually I will upload them to my flickr, of course. Dial-up is slow!
The coolest part, though, was being surrounded by all the people in kimonos or yukata. (Honestly I can't tell the difference between the two, unless I look really close, so I'll henceforth refer to them all as kimono. Just know that yukatas are meant for more casual summer occasions - to keep cool. I have a feeling most of what I saw were kimonos.)
There was one adorable little girl in front of us who kept dancing in her pink kimono, with the large bow tied at her back. Adorable! Ohoho. I would've taken a picture, but that could have been construed as either creepy or super creepy, so I didn't. I think she was in one of my better pictures though... completely on accident, I swear!
Then it all ended.
We walked to the bus stop and waited in an obscenely long line that literally wrapped around itself, spiraling inward. But since we were less than 500 feet from Tokyo Bay and I could smell the beach and feel the ocean winds, I didn't care. I would've stayed there longer. Felt so good. Love it. The ocean. Love it.
But, alas, all good things come to an end. Tomo and his family waited with us, but it was only me and Matt who actually took the bus. It was a long and arduous trip, but I survived. Stayed the night at Matt's place, 'cause the next day was food day at Robert's. Aw, yeah.
TO BE CONTINUED AT MY OWN LEISURE
When I accidentally left a little later than I intended, I thought it would make me a little late. However, I ended up arriving at the meeting place almost an hour late! Which was sort of okay because Matt was also late. (Even later than me!) Unfortunately, Tyler had already come and gone by that time, since we had no way of contacting him. I felt bad, but it's not like I could do anything about it.
So I met Matt's Japanese friend, Tomo, who'd been there since the actual meeting time, and we waited for Matt. He spoked da gooder Amurrcan then I didded Japanse. Jealous!
Matt arrived and we traipsed along to our destination.
It's at this point I feel I should point out I've been wearing sandals since I left my apartment for fireworks. I'm not used to wearing sandals while out and about. Flippy-floppies, to be exact. I couldn't make my feet walk "normal." It felt weird.
Soon enough, we were at our destination - a large field! The fireworks had just started, but Tomo's family was already there saving a spot with a large blanket. We found them, introductions were made, and the celebration began!
It was pretty rad.
We had edamame (soybeans) to munch on, and some sushi rolls to devour. I accidentally grabbed the nattou roll, but Tomo saved me just as I was about to take a large bite. Phew! Instead I ate a shrimp roll. It was ever so delightful!
The fireworks were pretty great, too, of course! I think it was literally the first time I've ever had a camera in my hands while watching fireworks. Which is strange, but I guess now that I think about it, not entirely unbelievable. At any rate, I thoroughly enjoyed taking a ton of pictures, and managed a few that I really like. Eventually I will upload them to my flickr, of course. Dial-up is slow!
The coolest part, though, was being surrounded by all the people in kimonos or yukata. (Honestly I can't tell the difference between the two, unless I look really close, so I'll henceforth refer to them all as kimono. Just know that yukatas are meant for more casual summer occasions - to keep cool. I have a feeling most of what I saw were kimonos.)
There was one adorable little girl in front of us who kept dancing in her pink kimono, with the large bow tied at her back. Adorable! Ohoho. I would've taken a picture, but that could have been construed as either creepy or super creepy, so I didn't. I think she was in one of my better pictures though... completely on accident, I swear!
Then it all ended.
We walked to the bus stop and waited in an obscenely long line that literally wrapped around itself, spiraling inward. But since we were less than 500 feet from Tokyo Bay and I could smell the beach and feel the ocean winds, I didn't care. I would've stayed there longer. Felt so good. Love it. The ocean. Love it.
But, alas, all good things come to an end. Tomo and his family waited with us, but it was only me and Matt who actually took the bus. It was a long and arduous trip, but I survived. Stayed the night at Matt's place, 'cause the next day was food day at Robert's. Aw, yeah.
TO BE CONTINUED AT MY OWN LEISURE
Friday, July 24, 2009
All you have to do is ask!
I just spent the better part of the day wandering around Yokosuka (specifically nearby the Yokosuka Chuo station) looking for an electronics store. About two and a half hours, I believe. I really needed a new SD card and SD card reader, just in case it's the reader I've been using that fried my past two cards.
I didn't find one there.
Dismayed, I returned to my station (Kenritsudaigaku) and ate some tempura shrimp soba. Worth it! On a whim, I went off the beaten path (i.e., the path home) on the off-chance there would be the kind of store I needed in that direction. I thought I found one and went inside. Alas, it only LOOKED like the kind of store I needed. But I asked where I could buy an SD card, if they knew, and this guy came out the back (because he could speak English, unlike the lady I was talking to previously), and started trying to explain to me where to go.
But then he gave up and took me there. Just up and walked out of his store to walk for ten minutes and show me the building.
Japan rocks.
(As it turns out, I've looked at this very building many times from my balcony, wondering what that smiling sun was. Now I know. Kojima - where all your electronic dreams come true.)
I didn't find one there.
Dismayed, I returned to my station (Kenritsudaigaku) and ate some tempura shrimp soba. Worth it! On a whim, I went off the beaten path (i.e., the path home) on the off-chance there would be the kind of store I needed in that direction. I thought I found one and went inside. Alas, it only LOOKED like the kind of store I needed. But I asked where I could buy an SD card, if they knew, and this guy came out the back (because he could speak English, unlike the lady I was talking to previously), and started trying to explain to me where to go.
But then he gave up and took me there. Just up and walked out of his store to walk for ten minutes and show me the building.
Japan rocks.
(As it turns out, I've looked at this very building many times from my balcony, wondering what that smiling sun was. Now I know. Kojima - where all your electronic dreams come true.)
Friday, July 17, 2009
Ups and ups at the workplace
Emotion is a strange beast.
Yesterday I went to bed dreading waking up this morning for work. This morning I woke up dreading getting out of bed for work.
Then I got up.
It's about this time my mind just kind of crapped out on me. Emptied itself of emotions or thoughts of any substance. I took a shower, got dressed, brushed my teeth, grabbed all my shit and went out the door. With my iPod on John Prine, some cheesy old country singer I never would've dreamed I'd listen to voluntarily five years ago, I walked to the station. Mind still empty, I waited for the train. Pulled out my iPod to read some more of the Sword of Truth series. Just finished Soul of the Flame last night and started the next book this morning. Got on the train. Got off the train at the next stop to transfer. On the next train. Off. To the bus station. Waited, read some more. On the bus. Off the bus. Into the office. At my cubicle. Turned on my PC.
Hey, you know, this isn't so bad after all. I can do this. It may not be the thing I want to do, but it is what I am doing. So I'm going to make the best of it!
I got to work. As in, I put some real effort into it. That's not saying much, considering all I'm really doing at the moment is just research. I had to teach myself about Microsoft Search Server in order to teach my superior. He said he was thinking about implementing it but wanted to know all the benefits and costs and requirements, but he's not too great at English. (Way better than I am at Japanese, though. Props to him.)
I got the job done. Well, mostly. Now I need to put it in words easier for him (and possibly other Japanese speakers) to understand. I've also got another thing I need to look into, but that's slightly more complicated and will require a bit more time for me, at least, to understand. It's not what I'm used to working with. Data replication for disaster recovery.
With contentedness driving me through the day, I had a much more positive mindset than yesterday. And boy did it pay off!
We had pizza for lunch today. We, the IT team, that is. It was a welcoming lunch for me. When my boss walked up to my desk to tell me about it and ask if I would be able to attend, I of course said yes. When he asked in that super-polite Japanese manner, it came off more as, "Will you grace us with your presence?" than a normal kind of request. It was really kind of hilarious, in an endearing way. Different cultures.
The pizza was pretty great. Shrimp and such, tomato slices. Plus some popcorn shrimp sides and tater tots. Well, not really the tater tots, but the same texture and taste. Different shape. No pictures, sadly. I don't take my camera to work, because I think they'd be kind of freaked out if I did. They're pretty protective of "sensitive data" and such. Anything that can carry data to the outside world, bar pencil and paper, is a big no-no for me, a foreigner. Due to export laws and such. Not that I actually have access to any sensitive data, of course. It's all just precautions. Also I'm sure me having a camera at work out in general is just plain weird. I know I would think it weird in America.
But yeah, a nice lunch. After lunch, though, was another surprise. Monthly cleaning! Who needs janitors when we can do it ourselves! I expected the daily after-lunch speech-which-I-don't-understand, and got it, but afterward was informed that the third Friday of the month is special. Cleaning special. I got suckered into - I mean, I got to vacuum the cubicles in my little corner of the office! How exciting!!
After that, the day went on and I left at about 5:30, satisfied.
Some other peculiarities in the Japanese workplace:
---
And then, a couple hours ago, I went and ate dinner. Some shrimp, egg, sweet chili sauce combination. With rice and egg drop soup. It was interesting. Not bad. But the real fun was tobe had on the way back!
I was stopped by the cops and very confused. They asked if I walk this street every day (after multiple attempts I finally understood the question) and I said yes, because I guess I do now. Then they asked if I walked the street last night. I said yes. They said what time, etc. etc. etc.
Turns out someone broke the door to the little police box there last night. I of course knew nothing about it, and didn't even notice it was broken last night.
Oddly enough, I think that's literally the first time a cop has ever talked to me and asked me questions about anything. Let alone a shameless and horrendous act of vandalism! Oh, the horror!
Yesterday I went to bed dreading waking up this morning for work. This morning I woke up dreading getting out of bed for work.
Then I got up.
It's about this time my mind just kind of crapped out on me. Emptied itself of emotions or thoughts of any substance. I took a shower, got dressed, brushed my teeth, grabbed all my shit and went out the door. With my iPod on John Prine, some cheesy old country singer I never would've dreamed I'd listen to voluntarily five years ago, I walked to the station. Mind still empty, I waited for the train. Pulled out my iPod to read some more of the Sword of Truth series. Just finished Soul of the Flame last night and started the next book this morning. Got on the train. Got off the train at the next stop to transfer. On the next train. Off. To the bus station. Waited, read some more. On the bus. Off the bus. Into the office. At my cubicle. Turned on my PC.
Hey, you know, this isn't so bad after all. I can do this. It may not be the thing I want to do, but it is what I am doing. So I'm going to make the best of it!
I got to work. As in, I put some real effort into it. That's not saying much, considering all I'm really doing at the moment is just research. I had to teach myself about Microsoft Search Server in order to teach my superior. He said he was thinking about implementing it but wanted to know all the benefits and costs and requirements, but he's not too great at English. (Way better than I am at Japanese, though. Props to him.)
I got the job done. Well, mostly. Now I need to put it in words easier for him (and possibly other Japanese speakers) to understand. I've also got another thing I need to look into, but that's slightly more complicated and will require a bit more time for me, at least, to understand. It's not what I'm used to working with. Data replication for disaster recovery.
With contentedness driving me through the day, I had a much more positive mindset than yesterday. And boy did it pay off!
We had pizza for lunch today. We, the IT team, that is. It was a welcoming lunch for me. When my boss walked up to my desk to tell me about it and ask if I would be able to attend, I of course said yes. When he asked in that super-polite Japanese manner, it came off more as, "Will you grace us with your presence?" than a normal kind of request. It was really kind of hilarious, in an endearing way. Different cultures.
The pizza was pretty great. Shrimp and such, tomato slices. Plus some popcorn shrimp sides and tater tots. Well, not really the tater tots, but the same texture and taste. Different shape. No pictures, sadly. I don't take my camera to work, because I think they'd be kind of freaked out if I did. They're pretty protective of "sensitive data" and such. Anything that can carry data to the outside world, bar pencil and paper, is a big no-no for me, a foreigner. Due to export laws and such. Not that I actually have access to any sensitive data, of course. It's all just precautions. Also I'm sure me having a camera at work out in general is just plain weird. I know I would think it weird in America.
But yeah, a nice lunch. After lunch, though, was another surprise. Monthly cleaning! Who needs janitors when we can do it ourselves! I expected the daily after-lunch speech-which-I-don't-understand, and got it, but afterward was informed that the third Friday of the month is special. Cleaning special. I got suckered into - I mean, I got to vacuum the cubicles in my little corner of the office! How exciting!!
After that, the day went on and I left at about 5:30, satisfied.
Some other peculiarities in the Japanese workplace:
- Bells chime at certain times, the kind of chimes you'd hear at a church on the hour (only without the following 5-rings-for-5-o'clock sorta thing). But I'm not entirely sure what the pattern is. I know there's a chime at noon for lunch. At noon 45 for after lunch. At 3pm-ish, and again at 5:15pm-ish (quittin' time). But there's also seemingly random chimes throughout the day. Sometimes on the hour, sometimes not. I suspect that the 3pm-ish bell, at least, is for "short calming break time" as it is also accompanied shortly thereafter by a woman and man talking and some calming music. Dunno what they're saying, though. There is so much I don't know!
- The guards salute as people enter and exit the campus! I'm pretty sure I've never seen that happen in America! They say something in Japanese to go along with the salute that I vaguely understand - but only vaguely.
---
And then, a couple hours ago, I went and ate dinner. Some shrimp, egg, sweet chili sauce combination. With rice and egg drop soup. It was interesting. Not bad. But the real fun was tobe had on the way back!
I was stopped by the cops and very confused. They asked if I walk this street every day (after multiple attempts I finally understood the question) and I said yes, because I guess I do now. Then they asked if I walked the street last night. I said yes. They said what time, etc. etc. etc.
Turns out someone broke the door to the little police box there last night. I of course knew nothing about it, and didn't even notice it was broken last night.
Oddly enough, I think that's literally the first time a cop has ever talked to me and asked me questions about anything. Let alone a shameless and horrendous act of vandalism! Oh, the horror!
A sudden recollection and revelation
I don't remember if I mentioned it on this here li'l ol' blog, but upon arriving in Korea, I was accosted. At the airport exit, where I was prepared to look for the train and hopefully find my way where I needed to go on my own, the taximen approached. Blindsided and confused, they suckered me into being their customer.
At the time I was okay with it because I'm sure that I would have gotten lost on my own and I didn't feel like lugging my luggage around with me.
But having just remembered this... and then subsequently recalling the (voluntary, due to extra luggage and rain) taxi ride BACK to the airport, something struck me!
In the first taxi, I looked for a mileage meter thing, hoping to see how fast my fee was growing, but couldn't find one. I thought I saw what might have been one but it was stuck at zero. The taximan gave me a "guess" at what the fee would be to the hotel (about 35 bucks, if I recall correctly, or a little more) and I just rolled with it at the time. Upon arrival, he also asked for a tip. I assumed this was the norm in Korea, but later discovered that, at least in restaurants, tips are NOT the norm.
Fast forward a month, to my taxi ride back to the airport (from a different location, admittedly). It felt about the same length of trip, but obviously it had been a month so who knows if it actually was. At any rate, this guy had a meter rolling. Good! And it rolled very slowly! By the time we got to the airport it was only about 18 bucks. Hmm. So I tried to give him above 20 (this was all in won, the currency of the Republic of Korea, so my math is iffy), but he gave back all the change. No tip? Buh?
I think you see where I'm going with this.
At the time I was okay with it because I'm sure that I would have gotten lost on my own and I didn't feel like lugging my luggage around with me.
But having just remembered this... and then subsequently recalling the (voluntary, due to extra luggage and rain) taxi ride BACK to the airport, something struck me!
In the first taxi, I looked for a mileage meter thing, hoping to see how fast my fee was growing, but couldn't find one. I thought I saw what might have been one but it was stuck at zero. The taximan gave me a "guess" at what the fee would be to the hotel (about 35 bucks, if I recall correctly, or a little more) and I just rolled with it at the time. Upon arrival, he also asked for a tip. I assumed this was the norm in Korea, but later discovered that, at least in restaurants, tips are NOT the norm.
Fast forward a month, to my taxi ride back to the airport (from a different location, admittedly). It felt about the same length of trip, but obviously it had been a month so who knows if it actually was. At any rate, this guy had a meter rolling. Good! And it rolled very slowly! By the time we got to the airport it was only about 18 bucks. Hmm. So I tried to give him above 20 (this was all in won, the currency of the Republic of Korea, so my math is iffy), but he gave back all the change. No tip? Buh?
I think you see where I'm going with this.
Friday, July 3, 2009
They come
Yesterday a horde of teenage girls invaded my motel.
The first sign of their arrival was the loud and incessant giggling I heard right outside my goddamn door. The second was walking out my door an hour later and encountering several groups of them on the way down. "Hello!" they would say to me in English as we passed by each other. "Hello!" I would reply. That was it.
This morning as I walked to McDonald's for breakfast, they all stood at the front desk. All two dozen or so of 'em. Standing. Waiting. Leaking outside. It is a small hallway. Not much standing room. They were there when I left and when I came back, carrying my breakfast.
No one was at the desk, yet. I'm not sure if they were waiting to check out or waiting for their entire group. Either way, they were in the way. No one talked to me that time, though.
Perhaps in the light they were frightened by my gruff and rugged appearance.
The first sign of their arrival was the loud and incessant giggling I heard right outside my goddamn door. The second was walking out my door an hour later and encountering several groups of them on the way down. "Hello!" they would say to me in English as we passed by each other. "Hello!" I would reply. That was it.
This morning as I walked to McDonald's for breakfast, they all stood at the front desk. All two dozen or so of 'em. Standing. Waiting. Leaking outside. It is a small hallway. Not much standing room. They were there when I left and when I came back, carrying my breakfast.
No one was at the desk, yet. I'm not sure if they were waiting to check out or waiting for their entire group. Either way, they were in the way. No one talked to me that time, though.
Perhaps in the light they were frightened by my gruff and rugged appearance.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Enough negativity!
Yesterday I went for a stroll around the COEX mall in Seoul. I never actually went inside, just walked around the outside. They have a big aquarium there, though, so I think I might go in at some point. I love marine life.At any rate, as I meandered the border of the mall, after eating some super delicious super spicy hot seafood soup, I discovered a festival! Purely by chance. Intrigued and excited, I decided to go into the middle of it all. Only... I couldn't!
I walked the perimeter of the giant crowd of people surrounding the booths and couldn't find a clean entrance. I could've squeezed through some tight crowds watching a performance of some sort, but it would have been quite an adventure.
That and people kept staring at me. It was kind of unsettling. Eventually I stopped behind the huge crowd of Koreans watching the performance (although at that point it was just some guy talking at a podium, words I couldn't even begin to understand). This old lady kind of stared at me for a few seconds, then turned and whispered to her friend. Then the friend turned and gawked, wide-eyed at this behemoth towering over her.
I just laughed.
Even so, that wasn't the first or last stare I would get. There were a few friendly hellos - in English, even! If I was a more outgoing guy, I might have stopped and talked to them about the festival. But for the most part people just looked at me like "what the hell are you doing here?" I never got these looks in Japan; only the curious stares of children. Kids are cute, though, so it doesn't bother me.
I think the festival was some sort of Korean pride thing, so people just generally had no idea what the hell I was doing there. Either way, it was awkward, so I got the fuck out and went back to my hotel room.
Monday, June 1, 2009
What is a man?
Earlier today I ate at KFC. I saw nothing bizarre on the menu so instead I ordered a chicken fillet sandwich with fries and melon soda. It was decent.
There were no men at KFC. None. I didn't realize it until I walked upstairs and sat down, but there were only women in line when I ordered. There were women only upstairs. Even all the children were female.
It was kind of strange.
As I left, one man walked in to order. It's my theory that Yokosuka's KFC allows only one male inside at any given time. All others are convinced through some mystical force that, actually, they'd rather have McDonald's today!
There were no men at KFC. None. I didn't realize it until I walked upstairs and sat down, but there were only women in line when I ordered. There were women only upstairs. Even all the children were female.
It was kind of strange.
As I left, one man walked in to order. It's my theory that Yokosuka's KFC allows only one male inside at any given time. All others are convinced through some mystical force that, actually, they'd rather have McDonald's today!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
The birdman.
Strolling along the river with two buddies, we see an old man sitting on a bench, a bunch of pigeons gathering on the ground in front of him.
First thought: what is he doing?
Second thought: oh, cool, he's feeding birds!
We stroll past him, there being nothing particularly spectacular about an old man feeding a few pigeons.
From behind! PTOO! PTOO! I turn around; what the hell was that? The old man is still there. PTOO! What the...? Is he...? PTOO! The fuck? He's spitting bread at the birds! PTOO!
Ooookay.
PTOO! PTOO! PTOO!
First thought: what is he doing?
Second thought: oh, cool, he's feeding birds!
We stroll past him, there being nothing particularly spectacular about an old man feeding a few pigeons.
From behind! PTOO! PTOO! I turn around; what the hell was that? The old man is still there. PTOO! What the...? Is he...? PTOO! The fuck? He's spitting bread at the birds! PTOO!
Ooookay.
PTOO! PTOO! PTOO!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
193cm of Pillow
I sit down on the train, as I know I have about 15 minutes before I will arrive at my destination. Looking around me, I see children, I see adults, I see everything in between. I feel like I belong, for lack of a better word. If there are gaijin-stares, I don't really notice them.
Soon it is time to get off the train.
As I unfold from my seat on the train upon reaching, I am as a giant among the masses! Towering over my helpless victims, I consume all I see! They are nothing compared to me. Nothing!
I am not entirely sure what the average height of the Japanese male and/or female is, but I would say more often than not I am more than a head taller than the people around me. Because I am living in a country built for a race smaller than me, I have to be careful. Even the door to the showers in my building is almost half a head too short for me. I have to duck every time I enter or exit a train. When I climbed Mt. Takao, I banged my head pretty hard on a bar that was holding up a fence along the cliff side.
Ah, it's tough being tall.
Of course, naturally, Japan has its own giants, too. It is incredibly jarring to see someone as tall or taller than me. Almost ruins the immersion, like... Wait a minute, I'm not really in Japan! You got me! You're a kidder, you are! Then I remember I am a giant, too, and everything is right (or wrong) in the world again.
---
Oh, and speaking of trains -- today I sat down as usual on the way home. Then this guy sat next to me. A different kind of guy. I guess he was tired or something... Kept fucking falling asleep on me. Once some space opened up elsewhere, I moved seats. Then he moved to my seat, which was on the edge (and more comfortable).
That asshole!
Soon it is time to get off the train.
As I unfold from my seat on the train upon reaching, I am as a giant among the masses! Towering over my helpless victims, I consume all I see! They are nothing compared to me. Nothing!
I am not entirely sure what the average height of the Japanese male and/or female is, but I would say more often than not I am more than a head taller than the people around me. Because I am living in a country built for a race smaller than me, I have to be careful. Even the door to the showers in my building is almost half a head too short for me. I have to duck every time I enter or exit a train. When I climbed Mt. Takao, I banged my head pretty hard on a bar that was holding up a fence along the cliff side.
Ah, it's tough being tall.
Of course, naturally, Japan has its own giants, too. It is incredibly jarring to see someone as tall or taller than me. Almost ruins the immersion, like... Wait a minute, I'm not really in Japan! You got me! You're a kidder, you are! Then I remember I am a giant, too, and everything is right (or wrong) in the world again.
---
Oh, and speaking of trains -- today I sat down as usual on the way home. Then this guy sat next to me. A different kind of guy. I guess he was tired or something... Kept fucking falling asleep on me. Once some space opened up elsewhere, I moved seats. Then he moved to my seat, which was on the edge (and more comfortable).
That asshole!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
There was a man!
On the train ride back from Hakone, a man sat next to me. I was half-asleep, and he thrust his umbrella in my face. In a state of delirium, I assumed he was offering me the umbrella to keep. After an awkward, "no thanks," I finally realized what he actually wanted was for me to hook the umbrella to the side of the seat (people often do this with their umbrellas).
I did so.
The man was kind of creepy-looking. I continued listening to my music and looking in other directions in an attempt to ignore. At first I presumed that perhaps I was just judging the book by its cover. Maybe he wasn't so bad. But as time went on...
Every time the train stopped and new people entered our car, I'd spy in my peripherals this creature patting the seat next to him, cheerily inviting the newcomers to join him. Very rarely did people take him up on this offer. The two times someone did sit down, he accosted them with his words of wisdom and they immediately stood back up and moved to another seat. The first woman actually moved to another car! I found this amusing, and also sad. For me.
Eventually we got off the train at the same stop. He smiled at me and nodded and we went our separate ways.
The next day -- today! -- I went to a Thai Festival.
(The Thai Festival was a wondrous cacophony of sounds and sights and smells... and Tastes. I am so glad I have taste buds! Pad Thai, dragon fruit, tapioca milk! I love it all!)
At the Thai Festival, as me and two buddies were wandering around, we encountered a man. He seemed to have an odd fascination with me, but I kept walking as if I had not seen or heard him. I just figured it was another crazy dude.
Later!
As we go for a second trip around the grounds, we see a trio of cops escorting the previously mentioned man out of the park. He points at me excitedly and shouts something in an utterly incomprehensible slur, the kind even native Japanese speakers could not understand.
It is at this point I recognize the man. It is the same creature from the train the night before! I of course am further amused and thus have chosen to share it with the world.
I should have taken a picture. But I decided it was probably not a wise thing to do.
I did so.
The man was kind of creepy-looking. I continued listening to my music and looking in other directions in an attempt to ignore. At first I presumed that perhaps I was just judging the book by its cover. Maybe he wasn't so bad. But as time went on...
Every time the train stopped and new people entered our car, I'd spy in my peripherals this creature patting the seat next to him, cheerily inviting the newcomers to join him. Very rarely did people take him up on this offer. The two times someone did sit down, he accosted them with his words of wisdom and they immediately stood back up and moved to another seat. The first woman actually moved to another car! I found this amusing, and also sad. For me.
Eventually we got off the train at the same stop. He smiled at me and nodded and we went our separate ways.
The next day -- today! -- I went to a Thai Festival.
(The Thai Festival was a wondrous cacophony of sounds and sights and smells... and Tastes. I am so glad I have taste buds! Pad Thai, dragon fruit, tapioca milk! I love it all!)
At the Thai Festival, as me and two buddies were wandering around, we encountered a man. He seemed to have an odd fascination with me, but I kept walking as if I had not seen or heard him. I just figured it was another crazy dude.
Later!
As we go for a second trip around the grounds, we see a trio of cops escorting the previously mentioned man out of the park. He points at me excitedly and shouts something in an utterly incomprehensible slur, the kind even native Japanese speakers could not understand.
It is at this point I recognize the man. It is the same creature from the train the night before! I of course am further amused and thus have chosen to share it with the world.
I should have taken a picture. But I decided it was probably not a wise thing to do.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Voices in the Wind
At times, Japan is wonderful, and beautiful. At times, Japan is bizarre, and fascinating.
At times Japan is creepy.
On occasion a certain type of vehicle passes near my place of residence. Alas, I do not have a picture. I actually rarely see them as I am walking around the city! If I manage to snap a picture, I will post it. Atop these vehicles sit speakers. Voices erupt from the speakers as the vehicle travels the roads. I am pretty certain I know what this is for: politics.
However, the way the voices sound, as I am sitting or lying in my room, is somewhat... foreboding? Maybe it is because I read too many books and play too many games in such a setting, but the voices give off a sort of dystopian vibe. I wish I could record the way it sounds, but that is even more difficult than taking a picture. I am also certain that the reason it gives me this feeling is largely because I just don't understand a goddamn word they are saying.
Suffice it to say, it turns an otherwise normal and cheery day into an eerie one.
At times Japan is creepy.
On occasion a certain type of vehicle passes near my place of residence. Alas, I do not have a picture. I actually rarely see them as I am walking around the city! If I manage to snap a picture, I will post it. Atop these vehicles sit speakers. Voices erupt from the speakers as the vehicle travels the roads. I am pretty certain I know what this is for: politics.
However, the way the voices sound, as I am sitting or lying in my room, is somewhat... foreboding? Maybe it is because I read too many books and play too many games in such a setting, but the voices give off a sort of dystopian vibe. I wish I could record the way it sounds, but that is even more difficult than taking a picture. I am also certain that the reason it gives me this feeling is largely because I just don't understand a goddamn word they are saying.
Suffice it to say, it turns an otherwise normal and cheery day into an eerie one.
Monday, May 11, 2009
I am in Japan. Shock!
I have been living here now for, what is it, two months? March 22, that's the day I arrived. It's been a ride so far.
The biggest shock was that there was no shock. I didn't, and still don't feel out of place. Perhaps that's because I came with ten other people from my school. I was able to ease into it one step at a time. We got on the plane in a group, we left the airport in a group, we rode the train in a group.
Ah, the trains. Had I come alone, I know for sure I would've been lost many times before figuring out the trains, having never ridden anything like it my entire life. These days, it's second nature.
After we all got settled in at the hostel and went through a few days of class and exploring Tokyo, I realized that, yes, it really wasn't so different. As time has gone on, I've noticed more and more of those little differences. Even so, nothing ever shocked me. Maybe I thought it was a little weird, but it just didn't jump out at me like I expected.
The culture shock just wasn't there, really.
Was I missing something? Why did I feel so at home? Me, who has always been a bit of a pansy about going out on my own and just doing shit. I'm not one of those poor saps who thinks to himself, "Maybe I was just meant to be Japanese!" but there's certainly something that feels like home here. I still don't know what it is.
I can barely speak the language (certainly nowhere near fluent). Reading the hundreds, possibly thousands of different kanji I see every day when I recognize, at most, 200 and recall the meaning of, at most, 100 is just an impossibility. The roads are cramped and confusing when they're not large and imposing. One of these days I'll have to take some pictures of the bigger intersections during the busy hours. There are so many people!
Despite all this, I have no problem walking up to some passerby and inquiring, "kore wa doko desu ka?" ("where is this?") while pointing at something on a map I scribbled in haste that morning. Everything I heard about Japanese people before coming here is true -- they're not a very social people out on the street. There's no friendly "hello!" to the stranger walking cheerily in the opposite direction. (Although to be honest, there's not much of that in America, either. More than here, but still not much.) However, also true is that they are nice. If you ask for help, many of them will go out of their way to actually physically lead you to the building, even if it's a few blocks in the opposite direction they were heading. I've never had someone deny helping me, because they were in a hurry or busy with something else. And even if they don't know, they'll often stop someone else and ask them about it.
Maybe it's just that the people are so welcoming, even of the "gaijin" (a shortened form of "gaikokujin," or foreigner) they reportedly hate so much.
The culture shock never hit me. But somehow, I expect it to hit much worse when I get back home to America. Back to a world where people are much more open and yet much less welcoming. Maybe I'm once again overestimating the whole ordeal. Only time will tell.
The biggest shock was that there was no shock. I didn't, and still don't feel out of place. Perhaps that's because I came with ten other people from my school. I was able to ease into it one step at a time. We got on the plane in a group, we left the airport in a group, we rode the train in a group.
Ah, the trains. Had I come alone, I know for sure I would've been lost many times before figuring out the trains, having never ridden anything like it my entire life. These days, it's second nature.
After we all got settled in at the hostel and went through a few days of class and exploring Tokyo, I realized that, yes, it really wasn't so different. As time has gone on, I've noticed more and more of those little differences. Even so, nothing ever shocked me. Maybe I thought it was a little weird, but it just didn't jump out at me like I expected.
The culture shock just wasn't there, really.
Was I missing something? Why did I feel so at home? Me, who has always been a bit of a pansy about going out on my own and just doing shit. I'm not one of those poor saps who thinks to himself, "Maybe I was just meant to be Japanese!" but there's certainly something that feels like home here. I still don't know what it is.
I can barely speak the language (certainly nowhere near fluent). Reading the hundreds, possibly thousands of different kanji I see every day when I recognize, at most, 200 and recall the meaning of, at most, 100 is just an impossibility. The roads are cramped and confusing when they're not large and imposing. One of these days I'll have to take some pictures of the bigger intersections during the busy hours. There are so many people!
Despite all this, I have no problem walking up to some passerby and inquiring, "kore wa doko desu ka?" ("where is this?") while pointing at something on a map I scribbled in haste that morning. Everything I heard about Japanese people before coming here is true -- they're not a very social people out on the street. There's no friendly "hello!" to the stranger walking cheerily in the opposite direction. (Although to be honest, there's not much of that in America, either. More than here, but still not much.) However, also true is that they are nice. If you ask for help, many of them will go out of their way to actually physically lead you to the building, even if it's a few blocks in the opposite direction they were heading. I've never had someone deny helping me, because they were in a hurry or busy with something else. And even if they don't know, they'll often stop someone else and ask them about it.
Maybe it's just that the people are so welcoming, even of the "gaijin" (a shortened form of "gaikokujin," or foreigner) they reportedly hate so much.
The culture shock never hit me. But somehow, I expect it to hit much worse when I get back home to America. Back to a world where people are much more open and yet much less welcoming. Maybe I'm once again overestimating the whole ordeal. Only time will tell.
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