Anyway, Merry Christmas everyone and have a great new year!
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Normal service will be resumed;
In two weeks when I get back, including the ending part of my Christmas Tale. Whoops, sorry about that.
Anyway, Merry Christmas everyone and have a great new year!
Anyway, Merry Christmas everyone and have a great new year!
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Non-fiction
Before I go to Cambodia, I have decided to weave (and indeed spin) you a tale of Yuletide merriness. It may involve Roger. It may not. Read on dear viewer, read on…
A log fire burns brightly in the half, the occasional spark rocketing through the thick air to land on the perilously flammable horse-hair rug nearby. The gentle tinkle of sleigh bells drifts through the windows, themselves adorned with snow ready to drop. The air, tinged with the scent of elderberries and chestnuts, plays through the room in wafts almost visible to the naked eye. The sound of excited children occasionally filters through the atmosphere, bringing a slight smile to the elderly relative sitting comatose in an armchair so soft it almost swallows him.
All of a sudden the sealed door bursts open and a father like figure appears. He complains loudly about the Christmas tree lights being wonky and proceeds to the uprooted shrub of a centre piece and jiggles the said lights until they either fall off, short circuit, or fall off and then short circuit. The elderly relative sleeps through all this, having saturated himself with brandy several hours before. A motherly type appears, takes one look at the shouting father figure, screams that she has a headache and takes to the stairs. A silhouette not dissimilar to that which a younger brother might cast appears and grunts that he is going out and taking the car. The father figure screams a rebuttal but is ignored.
Meanwhile, a figure strides purposefully down the stair, a gleam in his eye and a fiver in his pocket. Ignoring the arguing brother, he uplifts the carkeys and heads for the door. He must be quick, twill be but a moment until his deception is uncovered. Heaving open the ivory portal to the outside world, he hauls himself into the freezing maelstrom that lies beyond and heads for his stately chariot. With the work of a moment he is inside; the engine rumbles and begins its night’s work. A quick press of a pedal and he is at the gate, awaiting his turn on the road.
Suddenly from behind, a cacophony of anguish. The younger brother, arms aflail and voice raised, is charging forthwith towards the escaping vehicle. A panic chills the heart of our hero even further as he desperately searches for his opportunity to fly. Alas, dear reader, none has come and in the distance lies an unending column of headlights and speed. Is this the end already? Will the unruly brother triumph in this battle of wills?
...
Oooh, I’m a tease.
A log fire burns brightly in the half, the occasional spark rocketing through the thick air to land on the perilously flammable horse-hair rug nearby. The gentle tinkle of sleigh bells drifts through the windows, themselves adorned with snow ready to drop. The air, tinged with the scent of elderberries and chestnuts, plays through the room in wafts almost visible to the naked eye. The sound of excited children occasionally filters through the atmosphere, bringing a slight smile to the elderly relative sitting comatose in an armchair so soft it almost swallows him.
All of a sudden the sealed door bursts open and a father like figure appears. He complains loudly about the Christmas tree lights being wonky and proceeds to the uprooted shrub of a centre piece and jiggles the said lights until they either fall off, short circuit, or fall off and then short circuit. The elderly relative sleeps through all this, having saturated himself with brandy several hours before. A motherly type appears, takes one look at the shouting father figure, screams that she has a headache and takes to the stairs. A silhouette not dissimilar to that which a younger brother might cast appears and grunts that he is going out and taking the car. The father figure screams a rebuttal but is ignored.
Meanwhile, a figure strides purposefully down the stair, a gleam in his eye and a fiver in his pocket. Ignoring the arguing brother, he uplifts the carkeys and heads for the door. He must be quick, twill be but a moment until his deception is uncovered. Heaving open the ivory portal to the outside world, he hauls himself into the freezing maelstrom that lies beyond and heads for his stately chariot. With the work of a moment he is inside; the engine rumbles and begins its night’s work. A quick press of a pedal and he is at the gate, awaiting his turn on the road.
Suddenly from behind, a cacophony of anguish. The younger brother, arms aflail and voice raised, is charging forthwith towards the escaping vehicle. A panic chills the heart of our hero even further as he desperately searches for his opportunity to fly. Alas, dear reader, none has come and in the distance lies an unending column of headlights and speed. Is this the end already? Will the unruly brother triumph in this battle of wills?
...
Oooh, I’m a tease.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Home
Again, starting to miss home a bit. A lot actually, both home and Leeds. Like I said before, Christmas doesn’t feel the same out here. So yeah, I’ll probably be going home next Christmas. A bit like Chris Rea, the cheeky bugger.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Cambodia
Planning this trip has been a nightmare. And it’s not like I’ve done any of the actual organising. Just getting the associated vaccines, equipment etc has taken me ages and cost me a small fortune.
I’ve now finally got them done, sort of. Anyway, it cost me 20000yen (about £100) for one injection and some malaria medication, although hopefully I’ll be able to recoup some of that from my medical insurance. I’ve now found out of course that I need a hiking backpack. I should really have thought of this as for most of the trip we’re going to be mobile. Hopefully one of the JETs in Yatsushiro has one, I don’t fancy spending another £100 on a backpack I’ll rarely, if ever, use. Looks like January might have to be quite cheap…
It just keeps getting colder. It’s absolutely freezing for the majority of the day now. Luckily all my class and staffrooms are heated but even moving between them is a chore it’s so cold. Of course, the worst is still at my house. I now have my little electric heater on almost constantly so am dreading getting the electric bill. However, that’s a rather short range solution (I usually shove it under my desk so at least my legs are warm) so I’ll be busting out the big kerosene heater tonight. I don’t trust theses things as everyone says you should leave the window open while they’re on to disperse the fumes. But, won’t that sort of defeat the point in the first place? I’ll stick mine on anyway and if you don’t see anymore blogs for a while you can assume the worst.
The hot water bottle I got sent from home works too, but I seem to have burnt my hand on it last night. Well, I woke up with what I assume to be a burn on my hand. It hurts too, but it’s better than being so cold you can’t feel anything.
Anyway, here's something we can all enjoy.
First person to guess which body Tim has chosen to inhabit wins the internet.
I’ve now finally got them done, sort of. Anyway, it cost me 20000yen (about £100) for one injection and some malaria medication, although hopefully I’ll be able to recoup some of that from my medical insurance. I’ve now found out of course that I need a hiking backpack. I should really have thought of this as for most of the trip we’re going to be mobile. Hopefully one of the JETs in Yatsushiro has one, I don’t fancy spending another £100 on a backpack I’ll rarely, if ever, use. Looks like January might have to be quite cheap…
It just keeps getting colder. It’s absolutely freezing for the majority of the day now. Luckily all my class and staffrooms are heated but even moving between them is a chore it’s so cold. Of course, the worst is still at my house. I now have my little electric heater on almost constantly so am dreading getting the electric bill. However, that’s a rather short range solution (I usually shove it under my desk so at least my legs are warm) so I’ll be busting out the big kerosene heater tonight. I don’t trust theses things as everyone says you should leave the window open while they’re on to disperse the fumes. But, won’t that sort of defeat the point in the first place? I’ll stick mine on anyway and if you don’t see anymore blogs for a while you can assume the worst.
The hot water bottle I got sent from home works too, but I seem to have burnt my hand on it last night. Well, I woke up with what I assume to be a burn on my hand. It hurts too, but it’s better than being so cold you can’t feel anything.
Anyway, here's something we can all enjoy.
First person to guess which body Tim has chosen to inhabit wins the internet.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Annoyed.
For the first time this job has really started to piss me off.
It’s exam season at the moment and I have been in the process of making various tests for about 2 weeks now. I was told I may have to do this so I wasn’t really all that bothered by it. A bit of extra work sure, but I wasn’t planning lessons anyway due to the study periods everyone has.
I got pissed off yesterday when I faxed over my draft of the listening test script I’d done to my second school. A few hours later I get an ominous telephone call asking me to come over (I was at my first school all day) and “discuss” it.
When I got there me and the three JTEs sat around a table and I was handed a copy of my computer printed script. Well, what was left of it, which was basically the title and the space for the student to put his name. There was so much red marker on the damn thing it looked like a referee had misplaced all of his red cards in one place, and that place was on top of my work.
Honestly, they had changed everything. From sweeping changes of the format to tiny little nitpicks changing individual words (“Take a right” to “Turn right”). For the next ten minutes, although they tried to hide it, we went through what I had done wrong and why it was wrong. The students don’t know this word; this is too complicated; this isn’t complicated enough.
Why, I was asking myself through all this, did they ask me to do the test at all if they had such a specific result in mind? Everything on that paper was somehow erroneous. And what was all this about the students “not knowing” certain words…it’s a test! A listening test no less where the students have to sift the correct answers from a stream of information, most of which is irrelevant to the questions. I didn’t know half the words in my French listening tests but I still got good marks. What’s the point in a test where the students know everything?
It wasn’t just that though, it was the little things. In one telephone conversation I’d put in a throwaway comment, another red herring that the students would have to dismiss. “How embarrassing!” it went. They spend a good few minutes deciding whether the students could understand “embarrassing”. It doesn’t matter if they can! There were no questions that addressed the emotion of being “embarrassed”, it was simply a line to give the script a bit of realism as well as being, as I’ve said, a red herring. But no, they couldn’t understand that and we spend a good long time umming and erring over it.
And the True or False questions. We had done True or False in my introductory lesson. I know this because I was there. You know, asking True or False questions. However, even though it was eventually decided the students could understand “embarrassing” as they did it 6 months ago, the True or False answers, which we did 2 months ago were scrapped, replaced by other multiple choice questions. What? Surely these were the easiest questions? You have a 50/50 chance of getting the damn things right. No, they had to go. Why? It was never explained to me. Maybe the word “True” sounds like a Japanese swear word or something, because it certainly wasn’t because of the difficulty.
I came away fuming with silent rage that the test I had worked a whole night on had been replaced with one that the other teachers obviously had in their minds from the start. Why ask me to do a test, with no further instructions than “It must have a maximum of 40 points to award”, if you already have one you want to give?
I’m hoping this sort of thing doesn’t happen too often. I’m new to this teaching game and they seem to expect me to know the ropes like a seasoned professor. Most of the time this job is OK, not enjoyable per se and certainly lacking in job satisfaction, but OK nevertheless. I sincerely hope this sort of thing isn’t going to appear until next test time, when I have no doubt it will happen all over again…
It’s exam season at the moment and I have been in the process of making various tests for about 2 weeks now. I was told I may have to do this so I wasn’t really all that bothered by it. A bit of extra work sure, but I wasn’t planning lessons anyway due to the study periods everyone has.
I got pissed off yesterday when I faxed over my draft of the listening test script I’d done to my second school. A few hours later I get an ominous telephone call asking me to come over (I was at my first school all day) and “discuss” it.
When I got there me and the three JTEs sat around a table and I was handed a copy of my computer printed script. Well, what was left of it, which was basically the title and the space for the student to put his name. There was so much red marker on the damn thing it looked like a referee had misplaced all of his red cards in one place, and that place was on top of my work.
Honestly, they had changed everything. From sweeping changes of the format to tiny little nitpicks changing individual words (“Take a right” to “Turn right”). For the next ten minutes, although they tried to hide it, we went through what I had done wrong and why it was wrong. The students don’t know this word; this is too complicated; this isn’t complicated enough.
Why, I was asking myself through all this, did they ask me to do the test at all if they had such a specific result in mind? Everything on that paper was somehow erroneous. And what was all this about the students “not knowing” certain words…it’s a test! A listening test no less where the students have to sift the correct answers from a stream of information, most of which is irrelevant to the questions. I didn’t know half the words in my French listening tests but I still got good marks. What’s the point in a test where the students know everything?
It wasn’t just that though, it was the little things. In one telephone conversation I’d put in a throwaway comment, another red herring that the students would have to dismiss. “How embarrassing!” it went. They spend a good few minutes deciding whether the students could understand “embarrassing”. It doesn’t matter if they can! There were no questions that addressed the emotion of being “embarrassed”, it was simply a line to give the script a bit of realism as well as being, as I’ve said, a red herring. But no, they couldn’t understand that and we spend a good long time umming and erring over it.
And the True or False questions. We had done True or False in my introductory lesson. I know this because I was there. You know, asking True or False questions. However, even though it was eventually decided the students could understand “embarrassing” as they did it 6 months ago, the True or False answers, which we did 2 months ago were scrapped, replaced by other multiple choice questions. What? Surely these were the easiest questions? You have a 50/50 chance of getting the damn things right. No, they had to go. Why? It was never explained to me. Maybe the word “True” sounds like a Japanese swear word or something, because it certainly wasn’t because of the difficulty.
I came away fuming with silent rage that the test I had worked a whole night on had been replaced with one that the other teachers obviously had in their minds from the start. Why ask me to do a test, with no further instructions than “It must have a maximum of 40 points to award”, if you already have one you want to give?
I’m hoping this sort of thing doesn’t happen too often. I’m new to this teaching game and they seem to expect me to know the ropes like a seasoned professor. Most of the time this job is OK, not enjoyable per se and certainly lacking in job satisfaction, but OK nevertheless. I sincerely hope this sort of thing isn’t going to appear until next test time, when I have no doubt it will happen all over again…
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Eyebrows
I love the internet. If it were a person I would gladly throw myself at their service simply because they were so generous.
Through this technical marvel I was able to download and watch Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire last night. True, the quality of picture wasn’t exactly stellar but it was definitely watchable. And watch it I did.
Now, I didn’t really care for the first three films. One and two were so childish as to be rather embarrassing. Three, which held a lot more promise, was let down by the refusal of the child actors to act properly, resorting to ridiculous overacting (Emma Watson’s eyebrows I’m looking at you here) or simply not acting at all (Daniel Radcliffe’s “They were my parents!” strop came off as just that, a girly tiff rather than an explosion of hatred).
This time, however, they hit the nail on the head. Goblet of Fire is by far the best of the Potter books just as this is by far the best of the films. The kids can actually act in this one, you actually sympathise with them and there are some genuinely tense moments between Harry and Ron. Hermione still overacts though.
Moody is fantastic. Brendon Gleeson is quickly becoming one of my favourite British actors and he really brings something to a character than is perhaps my favourite from the books. Alan Rickman is also mind melting good again, even though he only gets about 3 lines of dialogue this time around. The only cast disappointment is Dumbledore. I thought Michael Gambon was shaping up to be a good Dumbledore, better than the “on deaths door” version playing by Richard Harris (however ironic that sentence may be). However, in this he’s not good. He isn’t Dumbledore from the books at all; I won’t spoil it but the scene after Harry’s name comes out of the Goblet is especially bad.
Voldemort is in this one. He looks great, he really does but he lacks any real menace. In fact, he lacks any menace at all, were it not for his makeup he would’ve been less imposing than Lucius Malfoy (who makes a welcome return). His “birth” scene is great though and would’ve scared the crap out of me if I’d seen it when I was 10.
The Special Effects in general are amazing. The start of the World Cup has to be seen to be believed (as clichéd as that may be), the dragon fight is excellent stuff and the merpeople are great too. It’s the little things that set it apart from the other films though; Sirius’ firey communiqué, the Unforgivable curses realised, the various shapechanges that some characters go through are brilliant (if rather disturbing) and even the design of the Water challenge seating is fantastic. (trust me).
Most importantly however, I think Hogwarts was done justice to in this film. In the others it just felt like somewhere the story could take place in; a location. Here it feels like a community. Many of the bit parts excluded from Prisoner of Azkhaban (Neville, Seamus etc) return in this and the film finally gets across that Harry, Ron and Hermione are not the only students at their school.
Although the film is noticeably darker, both literally and in story, it was still to me the closest to its literary counterpart. True, huge chunks have been missed out (gone are most of the Quiddich World Cup, Dobby, Winky, Ludo Bagman, Percy Weasley and the House Elf liberation attempt by Hermione) but I actually didn’t miss any of them all that much (maybe apart from the world cup which we are teased with but never really shown). Despite all of these losses, it felt the same as the book; foreboding but, for the time being, optimistic.
So, very good then. I’d highly recommend it to anyone who enjoyed the book. Really, I think the highest compliment I can pay to this is that it’s the first of the films to really remind me of how good the books are, and the first time I truly thought the characters from the books had hit the big screen in full.
Through this technical marvel I was able to download and watch Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire last night. True, the quality of picture wasn’t exactly stellar but it was definitely watchable. And watch it I did.
Now, I didn’t really care for the first three films. One and two were so childish as to be rather embarrassing. Three, which held a lot more promise, was let down by the refusal of the child actors to act properly, resorting to ridiculous overacting (Emma Watson’s eyebrows I’m looking at you here) or simply not acting at all (Daniel Radcliffe’s “They were my parents!” strop came off as just that, a girly tiff rather than an explosion of hatred).
This time, however, they hit the nail on the head. Goblet of Fire is by far the best of the Potter books just as this is by far the best of the films. The kids can actually act in this one, you actually sympathise with them and there are some genuinely tense moments between Harry and Ron. Hermione still overacts though.
Moody is fantastic. Brendon Gleeson is quickly becoming one of my favourite British actors and he really brings something to a character than is perhaps my favourite from the books. Alan Rickman is also mind melting good again, even though he only gets about 3 lines of dialogue this time around. The only cast disappointment is Dumbledore. I thought Michael Gambon was shaping up to be a good Dumbledore, better than the “on deaths door” version playing by Richard Harris (however ironic that sentence may be). However, in this he’s not good. He isn’t Dumbledore from the books at all; I won’t spoil it but the scene after Harry’s name comes out of the Goblet is especially bad.
Voldemort is in this one. He looks great, he really does but he lacks any real menace. In fact, he lacks any menace at all, were it not for his makeup he would’ve been less imposing than Lucius Malfoy (who makes a welcome return). His “birth” scene is great though and would’ve scared the crap out of me if I’d seen it when I was 10.
The Special Effects in general are amazing. The start of the World Cup has to be seen to be believed (as clichéd as that may be), the dragon fight is excellent stuff and the merpeople are great too. It’s the little things that set it apart from the other films though; Sirius’ firey communiqué, the Unforgivable curses realised, the various shapechanges that some characters go through are brilliant (if rather disturbing) and even the design of the Water challenge seating is fantastic. (trust me).
Most importantly however, I think Hogwarts was done justice to in this film. In the others it just felt like somewhere the story could take place in; a location. Here it feels like a community. Many of the bit parts excluded from Prisoner of Azkhaban (Neville, Seamus etc) return in this and the film finally gets across that Harry, Ron and Hermione are not the only students at their school.
Although the film is noticeably darker, both literally and in story, it was still to me the closest to its literary counterpart. True, huge chunks have been missed out (gone are most of the Quiddich World Cup, Dobby, Winky, Ludo Bagman, Percy Weasley and the House Elf liberation attempt by Hermione) but I actually didn’t miss any of them all that much (maybe apart from the world cup which we are teased with but never really shown). Despite all of these losses, it felt the same as the book; foreboding but, for the time being, optimistic.
So, very good then. I’d highly recommend it to anyone who enjoyed the book. Really, I think the highest compliment I can pay to this is that it’s the first of the films to really remind me of how good the books are, and the first time I truly thought the characters from the books had hit the big screen in full.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Money
As I now know some people still read this thing I have endeavoured to write in it more often. Like now.
I’ve just come out of a class that I knew I was going to dislike. As luck would have it (or not) my first class on a Monday morning is the worst that I have at Hikawa. It’s awful; they never listen, Fukuda-sensei is unable to control them and I might as well not be there. Today was different however.
Today was worse. They were just literally not acknowledging our presence infront of the class. They acted as if they had a free period and were able to do what they liked for 50 minutes. Plus they had a cat. An actual cat. More of a kitten really. I was initially torn between two decisions, telling Fukuda-sensei or just watching the kitten. It was all ginger and lovely. After a few seconds though I felt it was my duty to inform my JTE so I did and the cat was promptly escorted out of the classroom. Where it went I will probably never know. Either the office or the nearest toilet bowl.
Anyway, the reason this one hasn’t gone up as soon as I’d hoped was that I’ve been getting headaches from staring at this damn screen so much. Argh.
Today I have been looking at the Xbox 360. Mmmm. It looks nice. Tempting. Especially as I have a 28” Flatscreen TV doing basically nothing, this’d give it a nice workout.
I don’t know why I’m torturing myself, I can’t afford one anyway. Not sure if I put this up here before but I’m going to Cambodia this Christmas and it’s costing me a pretty penny. At the moment I’m surviving off noodles and cups of tea and trying to limit my expenses as much as possible. I’ve started walking to work instead of driving, am conserving any usable resource such as kitchen towels and washing up liquid and have decided, as bad as it may get, not to turn on the heaters.
Now that last one may not seem too bad until you realise that it hits about 0 degrees here at night. Well, so it does in England sometimes, I hear you shout! True, but English houses have central heating. Insulation. Thick walls. My apartment does not, being designed for the hot weather of the summer. The walls are about 3cm thick, and I have no reason to guess the ceiling is any thicker. Basically, I may as well be outside. Last night I went to bed wearing shorts, jogging pants, two pairs of socks, two t-shirts and a cardigan. I was under three sheets. I was still cold. So cold that it woke me up several times during the night. Nice.
So, you can see that keeping the heaters off is a pretty big sacrifice. BUT, I am trying to put together a nice little wad for when I come home so…I’m sure I can live with it.
Hopefully.
Anyway, on to some pictures:
Hannah and a dam. An interesting combination.
Me and some schoolgirls. An erotic combination
I’ve just come out of a class that I knew I was going to dislike. As luck would have it (or not) my first class on a Monday morning is the worst that I have at Hikawa. It’s awful; they never listen, Fukuda-sensei is unable to control them and I might as well not be there. Today was different however.
Today was worse. They were just literally not acknowledging our presence infront of the class. They acted as if they had a free period and were able to do what they liked for 50 minutes. Plus they had a cat. An actual cat. More of a kitten really. I was initially torn between two decisions, telling Fukuda-sensei or just watching the kitten. It was all ginger and lovely. After a few seconds though I felt it was my duty to inform my JTE so I did and the cat was promptly escorted out of the classroom. Where it went I will probably never know. Either the office or the nearest toilet bowl.
Anyway, the reason this one hasn’t gone up as soon as I’d hoped was that I’ve been getting headaches from staring at this damn screen so much. Argh.
Today I have been looking at the Xbox 360. Mmmm. It looks nice. Tempting. Especially as I have a 28” Flatscreen TV doing basically nothing, this’d give it a nice workout.
I don’t know why I’m torturing myself, I can’t afford one anyway. Not sure if I put this up here before but I’m going to Cambodia this Christmas and it’s costing me a pretty penny. At the moment I’m surviving off noodles and cups of tea and trying to limit my expenses as much as possible. I’ve started walking to work instead of driving, am conserving any usable resource such as kitchen towels and washing up liquid and have decided, as bad as it may get, not to turn on the heaters.
Now that last one may not seem too bad until you realise that it hits about 0 degrees here at night. Well, so it does in England sometimes, I hear you shout! True, but English houses have central heating. Insulation. Thick walls. My apartment does not, being designed for the hot weather of the summer. The walls are about 3cm thick, and I have no reason to guess the ceiling is any thicker. Basically, I may as well be outside. Last night I went to bed wearing shorts, jogging pants, two pairs of socks, two t-shirts and a cardigan. I was under three sheets. I was still cold. So cold that it woke me up several times during the night. Nice.
So, you can see that keeping the heaters off is a pretty big sacrifice. BUT, I am trying to put together a nice little wad for when I come home so…I’m sure I can live with it.
Hopefully.
Anyway, on to some pictures:
Hannah and a dam. An interesting combination.
Me and some schoolgirls. An erotic combination
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Another
Another one? So soon? Why yes.
The last one ended up being a nostalgic ramble down memory lane which is fine if you’re me. If, however, you’re someone reading this who isn’t me, it may have been a little dull.
Anyway, what have I been up to I hear you ask? Well, with Hannah having come over for the last month or so I’ve been up to quite a bit. Firstly, there was our trip to Kumamoto City. Now considering this is a place I have been to multiple times you think I’d be well prepared for such an outing. Not so. I was terrified, this being my first time in the big bad city without someone who actually spoke Japanese. Shops that had once been friendly little opportunities for hilarity were now gaping holes of anxiety. Restaurants, rather than quaint and traditional eating holes, were now giant troughs infested with aliens whose language I have little grasp on. It was odd and no doubt rather frustrating for dear Hannah who I’d confidently told that I knew what I was doing.
Anyway, the weekend passed without any major hitches (although I did choose what seemed to be the most expensive hotel in the city to lodge in) and I’m assured fun was had by all.
Next was to be Fukuoka, the capital of Kyushu Island and the biggest city for hundreds of miles. Unfortunately we had to cancel this particular weekend sojourn as Hannah was feeling ill and was shouting at me. Well, not really but she had a shouty look in her eye. Instead we went to Amakusa Islands, an area of Kumamoto which, again, I have been to several times. This was far less nerve racking and very pleasant; we went for a stroll on the coast, we ate donuts, we met up with Megan (who the more observant of you may remember is the JET I went to Nagasaki with) and had tea. Then I drove home and feel asleep as soon as we entered the house.
We did eventually end up in Fukuoka, using one of my myriad of national holiday breaks. This time I actually planned; found a hotel that was reasonable, got the train times in advance and planned our trip to a tee. And everything went well; Fukuoka was gorgeous at night, like a little Tokyo full of lights, neons and Yattai, little portable noodle shops that seemingly bred into existence at night. However, I was still too nervous to venture into any of them for fear of ordering a plate of the owner’s Mother with baseball sauce. The next day we trekked about the city marvelling at the largeness of it all. It was very large indeed.
And then Hannah went away. This made me sad. It’s still taking a bit of getting used to coming home and finding the flat empty. Sometimes, I cry. Not really, but I do play Crying by Roy Orbison (at least that’s who I think it is) on my laptop. And also Herb Albert playing Spanish Flea which makes even the saddest situations better.
And MC Hammer.
The last one ended up being a nostalgic ramble down memory lane which is fine if you’re me. If, however, you’re someone reading this who isn’t me, it may have been a little dull.
Anyway, what have I been up to I hear you ask? Well, with Hannah having come over for the last month or so I’ve been up to quite a bit. Firstly, there was our trip to Kumamoto City. Now considering this is a place I have been to multiple times you think I’d be well prepared for such an outing. Not so. I was terrified, this being my first time in the big bad city without someone who actually spoke Japanese. Shops that had once been friendly little opportunities for hilarity were now gaping holes of anxiety. Restaurants, rather than quaint and traditional eating holes, were now giant troughs infested with aliens whose language I have little grasp on. It was odd and no doubt rather frustrating for dear Hannah who I’d confidently told that I knew what I was doing.
Anyway, the weekend passed without any major hitches (although I did choose what seemed to be the most expensive hotel in the city to lodge in) and I’m assured fun was had by all.
Next was to be Fukuoka, the capital of Kyushu Island and the biggest city for hundreds of miles. Unfortunately we had to cancel this particular weekend sojourn as Hannah was feeling ill and was shouting at me. Well, not really but she had a shouty look in her eye. Instead we went to Amakusa Islands, an area of Kumamoto which, again, I have been to several times. This was far less nerve racking and very pleasant; we went for a stroll on the coast, we ate donuts, we met up with Megan (who the more observant of you may remember is the JET I went to Nagasaki with) and had tea. Then I drove home and feel asleep as soon as we entered the house.
We did eventually end up in Fukuoka, using one of my myriad of national holiday breaks. This time I actually planned; found a hotel that was reasonable, got the train times in advance and planned our trip to a tee. And everything went well; Fukuoka was gorgeous at night, like a little Tokyo full of lights, neons and Yattai, little portable noodle shops that seemingly bred into existence at night. However, I was still too nervous to venture into any of them for fear of ordering a plate of the owner’s Mother with baseball sauce. The next day we trekked about the city marvelling at the largeness of it all. It was very large indeed.
And then Hannah went away. This made me sad. It’s still taking a bit of getting used to coming home and finding the flat empty. Sometimes, I cry. Not really, but I do play Crying by Roy Orbison (at least that’s who I think it is) on my laptop. And also Herb Albert playing Spanish Flea which makes even the saddest situations better.
And MC Hammer.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Christmassy
Not doing very well with the updating of this am I. Oh well, I hope at least someone is still reading it.
I thought they didn’t have Christmas over here. I thought it was a western thing, a pleasantly commercialised ritual confined to those nations whose idea of a slap up meal is a beefburger and Doritos. Apparently not however. Since mid-October, every supermarket, grocers, general store and shopping centre has begun adorning its walls with enough tack to kill little baby Jesus and make Santa cry. The simple volume of the stuff hung up there makes you marvel at Japanese architecture and the amount of stress it must be capable of taking.
There’s stuff on sale too. Imagine, if you will, the average British bargain shop. For simplicity’s sake, lets imagine B&M bargains in Cleveleys, a vast maze of winding corridors bursting with tat. Now, lets pack it full of Japanese teenagers, all of whom are screaming at something or other. Got that? Ok. Now lets chuck in all the tackiest, noisiest, most plastic Christmas decorations you can think off. We’re talking Christmas trees with scary faces that appear out of nowhere, Santa models that blow polystyrene balls from their head as it t’were snow, Rudolphs constructed entirely out of neons which sing, for some reason, I Vow To Thee My Country. Imagine all that, and add in the shop décor we discussed above. Ok? Well you’re about halfway there.
Personally I love it. Those of you who know me quite well should also know that I love Christmas. I really do, it’s great. I love the build up to Christmas, the first Christmas adverts (usually Argos or Coke) appearing on TV. I love trying to decide on something expensive to ask for as a gift (and seeing my parents reactions when I actually do). Most of all, I love the strange feeling that everything is a bit better at this time of year. Everything is that less…serious.
My Christmas’ at Uni were a mixed bunch. I can’t for the life of me remember the first one, mainly because I was out of Horsforth as fast as my little legs could take me as soon as I could. I think the halls at Trinity and All Saints were probably the least festive place I’ve even been in my life. Claustrophobic, hospital white corridors led to tiny, cramped rooms with furniture dating back to the 70s. And not the cool, kitsch 70s; the 70s that invented paisley wallpaper and thought frilly lampshades were cool. If it were not for the people that lived there I may have been scarred for life. About Christmas.
2nd year Christmas was like most of the 2nd year…much better than the first. Had it not been for the horrible circumstances that year brought with it I have no doubt I would have enjoyed myself immensely. Infact, looking back on any period of my time at 10b Cumberland brings back pleasant memories and good times. I loved that place, and loved living there even more.
And that brings me nicely to this Christmas just gone. This perhaps is my favourite of the three, although extremely different. The last year at Uni was one of contrasts, the good with the bad. On one hand, 33 Cumberland Road was a terrible place to live physically. It was cramped, confined and promoted a separation of the people who lived there. No longer did we have communal dinners in the living room as the 33 Ebberston living room was a damp, drafty hellhole located in the basement, 3 flights of stairs away from me. The kitchen was possibly too big, and always too full of dirty washing and rubbish to congregate in. I really missed the community of 10b. However, thanks to a certainly lovely lady, I had a great Christmas period. Popping down to the Co-op for mince pies (me) and salad (her). Watching the Christmas period This Morning’s. Going to Starbucks and drinking Venti (me) and whatever small is in there (her) Eggnog lattes. All brilliant memories.
Anyway, I’m going on a bit now. I love Christmas you see. Expect more feverish festive ramblings soon.
I thought they didn’t have Christmas over here. I thought it was a western thing, a pleasantly commercialised ritual confined to those nations whose idea of a slap up meal is a beefburger and Doritos. Apparently not however. Since mid-October, every supermarket, grocers, general store and shopping centre has begun adorning its walls with enough tack to kill little baby Jesus and make Santa cry. The simple volume of the stuff hung up there makes you marvel at Japanese architecture and the amount of stress it must be capable of taking.
There’s stuff on sale too. Imagine, if you will, the average British bargain shop. For simplicity’s sake, lets imagine B&M bargains in Cleveleys, a vast maze of winding corridors bursting with tat. Now, lets pack it full of Japanese teenagers, all of whom are screaming at something or other. Got that? Ok. Now lets chuck in all the tackiest, noisiest, most plastic Christmas decorations you can think off. We’re talking Christmas trees with scary faces that appear out of nowhere, Santa models that blow polystyrene balls from their head as it t’were snow, Rudolphs constructed entirely out of neons which sing, for some reason, I Vow To Thee My Country. Imagine all that, and add in the shop décor we discussed above. Ok? Well you’re about halfway there.
Personally I love it. Those of you who know me quite well should also know that I love Christmas. I really do, it’s great. I love the build up to Christmas, the first Christmas adverts (usually Argos or Coke) appearing on TV. I love trying to decide on something expensive to ask for as a gift (and seeing my parents reactions when I actually do). Most of all, I love the strange feeling that everything is a bit better at this time of year. Everything is that less…serious.
My Christmas’ at Uni were a mixed bunch. I can’t for the life of me remember the first one, mainly because I was out of Horsforth as fast as my little legs could take me as soon as I could. I think the halls at Trinity and All Saints were probably the least festive place I’ve even been in my life. Claustrophobic, hospital white corridors led to tiny, cramped rooms with furniture dating back to the 70s. And not the cool, kitsch 70s; the 70s that invented paisley wallpaper and thought frilly lampshades were cool. If it were not for the people that lived there I may have been scarred for life. About Christmas.
2nd year Christmas was like most of the 2nd year…much better than the first. Had it not been for the horrible circumstances that year brought with it I have no doubt I would have enjoyed myself immensely. Infact, looking back on any period of my time at 10b Cumberland brings back pleasant memories and good times. I loved that place, and loved living there even more.
And that brings me nicely to this Christmas just gone. This perhaps is my favourite of the three, although extremely different. The last year at Uni was one of contrasts, the good with the bad. On one hand, 33 Cumberland Road was a terrible place to live physically. It was cramped, confined and promoted a separation of the people who lived there. No longer did we have communal dinners in the living room as the 33 Ebberston living room was a damp, drafty hellhole located in the basement, 3 flights of stairs away from me. The kitchen was possibly too big, and always too full of dirty washing and rubbish to congregate in. I really missed the community of 10b. However, thanks to a certainly lovely lady, I had a great Christmas period. Popping down to the Co-op for mince pies (me) and salad (her). Watching the Christmas period This Morning’s. Going to Starbucks and drinking Venti (me) and whatever small is in there (her) Eggnog lattes. All brilliant memories.
Anyway, I’m going on a bit now. I love Christmas you see. Expect more feverish festive ramblings soon.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Sport
As I’ve reached the end of my supply of archived blogs, I thought I’d better write a new one about what I’ve been up to since Nagasaki (which is just over a month ago now).
Firstly, I’ve started teaching with mixed results. My first ever class was actually at my second school and consisted of 41 18-year-old boys on an engineering course. You can imagine the rapt fascination on their little faces I’m sure. Needless to say, most of them seemed incredible uninterested about Blackpool and its various foibles. Even the picture of me as a peroxide blonde I’d included as a “Hey guys, I’m kerazy!” gesture failed to raise even a titter. In fact, one of them looked as if he wanted to kill me. I think his name was Steve but I may have misheard.
I had three classes the first day; the second being all boys again (slightly less disinterested and no “I’m going to stab you in the mouth” glares) and the third being all girls. As I’d expected, the girls’ class was much more interested and actually asked some questions when prompted. The fact that these questions were “Do you play sex?” and “Do you like young girls?” did little to dissuade me that I was finally doing some good work and raising the level of English in my town by a tiny, erotic fraction.
The rest of the week passed in pretty much the same vein; the classes with more boys looked comatose while the classes full of girls were giggly and rather forward. One class declared I looked better as a peroxide blonde while another said I looked like Annie Lennox. Everyone’s different it seems. I prefer the classes in my second school at the moment, mainly because of the kids themselves. They seem, if not more interested in learning then at least more courteous. Some of the classes I’ve had at my base school have been agony with the entire group looking as if they were in a free period while I was trying to speak: braiding each others hair, playing with mobile phones, crossing the class to speak loudly to a friend. Annoying. The classes here are more mixed than my second school which I thought would be good. However, it just seems to give the boys an opportunity to be macho and the girls the chance to purposefully ignore the boys being macho while talking to their friends. Hmm.
I’ve had a few sports days too. Now these are a different kettle of raw fish entirely to British ones; these things are huge. All lessons are cancelled in the week running up to the big day so the kids can prepare. Actually going to these things was certainly “an experience”. In my first one (which was my mountain school’s do) I was actually assigned to a team and forced to compete. This involved several activities that I now practice regularly in the hope of performing better next year. They were, in the order performed:
1: 100 metres sprint carrying a 20kg bag of sand (who the sand was for, I’m not sure)
2: Team rope skipping (in which I lost us the first round. These kids are all shorter than my calf so I had to simultaneously jump and duck or get hit by the rope)
3: Some weird “folk dance” (which involved, and I’m not kidding, all the teams forming circles and doing an odd Victorian era shuffle. I had to hold hands with at least 5 different young boys infront of a large baying crowd. Apart from feeling like a paedophile in an orphanage, it also started to rain. So then I was a wet paedophile. Marvellous).
The second one (my base school’s) was much bigger and I got some good photos (below) as I wasn’t forced to compete. I also got a nice shot of the Nazi salute tradition. No idea where this came from but it’s eerie to say the least. Seig hail!
I thought I’d also use the opportunity to show off just how good my phone camera is. All of those photos down there were taken with my phone. Not my digital camera, my phone. Good isn’t it? I’d upload the video I have of the Nazi ritual but I don’t think I can on my actual blog. I’ll try and find a way. Anyway, ta ta for now!
The Nazi Ritual. Eery.
The view from my mountain school and the Princple of said school
Another pic of the mountain school
Some impressive acrobatics from my base school kiddies.
Ooh look, Manga me!
Firstly, I’ve started teaching with mixed results. My first ever class was actually at my second school and consisted of 41 18-year-old boys on an engineering course. You can imagine the rapt fascination on their little faces I’m sure. Needless to say, most of them seemed incredible uninterested about Blackpool and its various foibles. Even the picture of me as a peroxide blonde I’d included as a “Hey guys, I’m kerazy!” gesture failed to raise even a titter. In fact, one of them looked as if he wanted to kill me. I think his name was Steve but I may have misheard.
I had three classes the first day; the second being all boys again (slightly less disinterested and no “I’m going to stab you in the mouth” glares) and the third being all girls. As I’d expected, the girls’ class was much more interested and actually asked some questions when prompted. The fact that these questions were “Do you play sex?” and “Do you like young girls?” did little to dissuade me that I was finally doing some good work and raising the level of English in my town by a tiny, erotic fraction.
The rest of the week passed in pretty much the same vein; the classes with more boys looked comatose while the classes full of girls were giggly and rather forward. One class declared I looked better as a peroxide blonde while another said I looked like Annie Lennox. Everyone’s different it seems. I prefer the classes in my second school at the moment, mainly because of the kids themselves. They seem, if not more interested in learning then at least more courteous. Some of the classes I’ve had at my base school have been agony with the entire group looking as if they were in a free period while I was trying to speak: braiding each others hair, playing with mobile phones, crossing the class to speak loudly to a friend. Annoying. The classes here are more mixed than my second school which I thought would be good. However, it just seems to give the boys an opportunity to be macho and the girls the chance to purposefully ignore the boys being macho while talking to their friends. Hmm.
I’ve had a few sports days too. Now these are a different kettle of raw fish entirely to British ones; these things are huge. All lessons are cancelled in the week running up to the big day so the kids can prepare. Actually going to these things was certainly “an experience”. In my first one (which was my mountain school’s do) I was actually assigned to a team and forced to compete. This involved several activities that I now practice regularly in the hope of performing better next year. They were, in the order performed:
1: 100 metres sprint carrying a 20kg bag of sand (who the sand was for, I’m not sure)
2: Team rope skipping (in which I lost us the first round. These kids are all shorter than my calf so I had to simultaneously jump and duck or get hit by the rope)
3: Some weird “folk dance” (which involved, and I’m not kidding, all the teams forming circles and doing an odd Victorian era shuffle. I had to hold hands with at least 5 different young boys infront of a large baying crowd. Apart from feeling like a paedophile in an orphanage, it also started to rain. So then I was a wet paedophile. Marvellous).
The second one (my base school’s) was much bigger and I got some good photos (below) as I wasn’t forced to compete. I also got a nice shot of the Nazi salute tradition. No idea where this came from but it’s eerie to say the least. Seig hail!
I thought I’d also use the opportunity to show off just how good my phone camera is. All of those photos down there were taken with my phone. Not my digital camera, my phone. Good isn’t it? I’d upload the video I have of the Nazi ritual but I don’t think I can on my actual blog. I’ll try and find a way. Anyway, ta ta for now!
The Nazi Ritual. Eery.
The view from my mountain school and the Princple of said school
Another pic of the mountain school
Some impressive acrobatics from my base school kiddies.
Ooh look, Manga me!
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Nagasaki
Last of the archived blogs now. Yay!
Nagasaki then. It was, unsurprisingly, rather good. However, I should probably start with the hows and whys.
There’s a “rule” in Kumamoto-ken that ALTs are not allowed to work over 20 days a month. When they told us this during the closing stages of the Tokyo Orientation there were cheers even through the Jet-Lag assisted exhaustion. This Kumamoto exclusive allowed me 3 “choseibi” days off during August which I was required by law to take. Well well well. How marvellous. However, I found myself at something of a loss; what to do with 3 days off? I can’t just sit in my apartment eating noodles for three days straight (which is the only foodstuff I currently have in my kitchen). Luckily, the Kumamoto City orientation provided the answer in the form of a group of ALTs heading off to Nagasaki. I was kindly invited along, but only after I promised to stop attempting a cockney accent (something which I’ve become curiously fond of recently).
So, after a 2 hour bus ride to reach our departure port I find out that all but one of the group has had to pull out as their BOE (Board of Education) had stuff for them to do. The one remaining ALT, a South African called Megan, is a Senior High School teacher the same as me, who reports directly to the Prefectural BOE rather than any local council one. We decided that as I’d come so far we’d throw four fingers (two sets of two) up at the other ALTs and go anyway. So we did.
First stop was Nagasaki-shi (shi=city) itself. After an extremely short ferry ride we arrived and flatly failed to find the Youth Hostel we were staying in. Infact, we went to the opposite end of the main street and stood for a good ten minutes scaring the locals with our odd language and copious sweating. Yes, it’s hot in Nagasaki too.
After finding the Hostel (and discovering its 11 o’clock curfew) we headed to the place every tourist goes to first, the A-Bomb museum. It turns out Megan is a bit of a museum nut, even going so far as to consider a Masters in Museum Studies so it took us about 3 or 4 hours to get around the various sections. Which is not to say it wasn’t interesting, on the contrary it was fascinating in a rather morbid manner. I did however leave with mixed feelings; no doubt the A-bomb was too harsh a measure to take (especially seeing as the US’s own advisors had predicted Japan’s surrender with or without the use of the Bomb) but I couldn’t help noticing the lack of information surrounding Japan’s role in the war. They seemed to be presented as an innocent and unsuspecting party, which is blatantly untrue. Oh well.
We visited the Hypocentre (the exact spot where the bomb exploded) and the Peace Park (a rather kitsch collection of statues including the faintly ridiculous Peace Statue) and called it a day. However, we did pop down to the Wharf for a drink and the smallest pizzas you have ever seen in your life. Possibly their growth was stunted by the residual radiation. Who knows?
The second day in the city was spent temple hopping. There’s a street that contains nothing but temples, shrines and graveyards so we spent most of the day wandering into the variously coloured and increasingly impressive buildings, eventually ending up being force fed beer by the caretaker of one particularly fine example. He was lovely though, and gave us both a patterned tea towel as way of thanks for filling his lunch with Gaijin-goodness. Mm-mmm.
I also bumped into my Tokyo roommate; it turns out that all the new Nagasaki JETs were in the city for their Orientation which was a complete coincidence. Anyway, we rejected his offer to join the NagaALTs in an all you can drink party and instead took a ropeway to the top of the local mountain, Inasa, to see the city at night. I took loads of photos but none came out. D’oh.
The next day we heading to areas more rural, firstly stopping at the spa town of Unzen nestled below an active volcano. It was temperate, it was sunny, it was haunting. Until it started raining. With our accommodation waiting for us the next town over, we headed out without seeing either the volcano or much of the geysers which was disappointing. We were booked into another youth hostel in the Castle town of Shimabara and it was there we headed, keeping marginally ahead of the rain. We arrived just in time to watch them close the castle gates and shoo off any hangers on so retired to catch up on some much needed sleep.
On the final day we finally made it to the castle (not as nice as Kumamoto’s) and also to some old Samurai houses (with scary plastic mannequins). Taking the ferry home, we arrived in good old Kumamoto in time for a quick stop into an old folks home (where they gave me more free beer) and I made it home yesterday.
To finish, here is a list of thing what I have ate:
Raw horse meat
Moving raw fish
Lots of squid
Fried Octopus Dough-balls (takoyaki)
Fermented soy beans (sticky)
Enough rice to fill a large barn
My pride.
The ridiculous looking Nagasaki Peace Statue. Looks like a Pokemon.
The interior of one of the myriad of temples we went to.
Some lovely mountains in Shimabara.
Shimabara Castle. An amazing photo by me if I do say so myself.
Nagasaki then. It was, unsurprisingly, rather good. However, I should probably start with the hows and whys.
There’s a “rule” in Kumamoto-ken that ALTs are not allowed to work over 20 days a month. When they told us this during the closing stages of the Tokyo Orientation there were cheers even through the Jet-Lag assisted exhaustion. This Kumamoto exclusive allowed me 3 “choseibi” days off during August which I was required by law to take. Well well well. How marvellous. However, I found myself at something of a loss; what to do with 3 days off? I can’t just sit in my apartment eating noodles for three days straight (which is the only foodstuff I currently have in my kitchen). Luckily, the Kumamoto City orientation provided the answer in the form of a group of ALTs heading off to Nagasaki. I was kindly invited along, but only after I promised to stop attempting a cockney accent (something which I’ve become curiously fond of recently).
So, after a 2 hour bus ride to reach our departure port I find out that all but one of the group has had to pull out as their BOE (Board of Education) had stuff for them to do. The one remaining ALT, a South African called Megan, is a Senior High School teacher the same as me, who reports directly to the Prefectural BOE rather than any local council one. We decided that as I’d come so far we’d throw four fingers (two sets of two) up at the other ALTs and go anyway. So we did.
First stop was Nagasaki-shi (shi=city) itself. After an extremely short ferry ride we arrived and flatly failed to find the Youth Hostel we were staying in. Infact, we went to the opposite end of the main street and stood for a good ten minutes scaring the locals with our odd language and copious sweating. Yes, it’s hot in Nagasaki too.
After finding the Hostel (and discovering its 11 o’clock curfew) we headed to the place every tourist goes to first, the A-Bomb museum. It turns out Megan is a bit of a museum nut, even going so far as to consider a Masters in Museum Studies so it took us about 3 or 4 hours to get around the various sections. Which is not to say it wasn’t interesting, on the contrary it was fascinating in a rather morbid manner. I did however leave with mixed feelings; no doubt the A-bomb was too harsh a measure to take (especially seeing as the US’s own advisors had predicted Japan’s surrender with or without the use of the Bomb) but I couldn’t help noticing the lack of information surrounding Japan’s role in the war. They seemed to be presented as an innocent and unsuspecting party, which is blatantly untrue. Oh well.
We visited the Hypocentre (the exact spot where the bomb exploded) and the Peace Park (a rather kitsch collection of statues including the faintly ridiculous Peace Statue) and called it a day. However, we did pop down to the Wharf for a drink and the smallest pizzas you have ever seen in your life. Possibly their growth was stunted by the residual radiation. Who knows?
The second day in the city was spent temple hopping. There’s a street that contains nothing but temples, shrines and graveyards so we spent most of the day wandering into the variously coloured and increasingly impressive buildings, eventually ending up being force fed beer by the caretaker of one particularly fine example. He was lovely though, and gave us both a patterned tea towel as way of thanks for filling his lunch with Gaijin-goodness. Mm-mmm.
I also bumped into my Tokyo roommate; it turns out that all the new Nagasaki JETs were in the city for their Orientation which was a complete coincidence. Anyway, we rejected his offer to join the NagaALTs in an all you can drink party and instead took a ropeway to the top of the local mountain, Inasa, to see the city at night. I took loads of photos but none came out. D’oh.
The next day we heading to areas more rural, firstly stopping at the spa town of Unzen nestled below an active volcano. It was temperate, it was sunny, it was haunting. Until it started raining. With our accommodation waiting for us the next town over, we headed out without seeing either the volcano or much of the geysers which was disappointing. We were booked into another youth hostel in the Castle town of Shimabara and it was there we headed, keeping marginally ahead of the rain. We arrived just in time to watch them close the castle gates and shoo off any hangers on so retired to catch up on some much needed sleep.
On the final day we finally made it to the castle (not as nice as Kumamoto’s) and also to some old Samurai houses (with scary plastic mannequins). Taking the ferry home, we arrived in good old Kumamoto in time for a quick stop into an old folks home (where they gave me more free beer) and I made it home yesterday.
To finish, here is a list of thing what I have ate:
Raw horse meat
Moving raw fish
Lots of squid
Fried Octopus Dough-balls (takoyaki)
Fermented soy beans (sticky)
Enough rice to fill a large barn
My pride.
The ridiculous looking Nagasaki Peace Statue. Looks like a Pokemon.
The interior of one of the myriad of temples we went to.
Some lovely mountains in Shimabara.
Shimabara Castle. An amazing photo by me if I do say so myself.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Stuff
Here's another archived blog. Most of the stuff in here is outdated (the bug is dead and I have the telephoen back) but still....
So far it’s been good. Great in fact: I’ve met some great people, done some great things, and generally felt great about it all. Course, the danger here is that it can’t possibly continue to be great for the entire duration of my stay (however long that may be) and although it is all still, well….great, I’m beginning to imagine how it might not always be so.
I’ve started to understand the idea of ‘culture shock’ a bit, although I wouldn’t use that particular term myself. ‘Culture frustration’ is perhaps more accurate. I’m starting to get a bit fed up of not being able to understand anything, a bit sick of feeling as helpless as a particularly undereducated 4 year old. And it’s not even as if my Japanese isn’t improving, I’ve learnt a truckload of new phrases not to mention a great deal more about the grammar but these are trivial advances when you’re sitting in a restaurant being spoken at in machinegun bursts of a language that has absolutely nothing in common with your own. The culture itself isn’t particularly shocking, just a bit hard to get to grips with when you can’t even attach the correct “goodbye” to the correct situation.
And my supervisor…he’s a lovely chap and has been indispensable but bless him he’s got absolutely zero knowledge of anything more technologically advanced than a desk drawer. And I’m not kidding. Take this example; my predecessor had an internet account where she rented the modem from the phone company who obviously requested it back at the end of her contract. With the former JET in question having left the country, the responsibility of sending the modem back passed onto my supervisor.
He sent them her phone. Her actual phone that she had bought with her own money. Not a rented phone. Not even just a phone: a phone/fax combo. He mistook a phone/fax combo for a modem. He told me that he thought it was a bit odd that the modem had paper in it. Douglas Adams couldn’t make this shit up. That thing was expensive too, about 40000 yen (£200) and I’ll be buggered if I’m forking out the same amount again if the telephone company have lost it/thrown it away in bemusement. You can imagine how hard it is to try to get this guy to help me with setting up the internet. That’s one Japanese stereotype out of the window then.
The apartment too has lost some of its initial sheen. I’ve been to a few other JET houses and they’ve all been, if not bigger then newer. I’ve started applying such terms as “basic” and even “ramshackle” to my pad, which may be a bit unfair with regards to everything except the kitchen. It really is a nightmare to do anything with. I’m not perhaps the best, ahem, cook in the world but there’s hardly room to put two plates down side by side in there. Hmm. I’ve also had my first bug issue. I decided to have a cleanup on Saturday (as most of the rooms didn’t look to have been hovered before I arrived) and while moving the bin a cockroach the size of my face scuttled across the floor and under the freezer. I actually screamed. I may even have swooned. This thing was bigger than most of the plates I own, Christ knows what sort of food it thought I was throwing away as a three course meal wouldn’t have sated it. I immediately armed myself with a Tupperware bowl and a poker stick thing and set about thrashing the space under my white goods. Or rather, I spent an hour working up the courage to. As it happens Percy, which is how I now refer to him, was not to be seen again that night so I closed off the kitchen and dreamt, for some reason, of Spaniards with 8 legs.
Today however, he resurfaced with a friend. I glimpsed him moving between the freezer and washer and proceeded to run screaming from the kitchen once more. A few hours later, for various reasons, I needed to go out so tentatively ventured back into the kitchen, keeping my tootsies as far from any dark areas as possible, and turned the door handle. Christ almighty, something ran from the front door to, yes you’ve guessed it, the back of the freezer. Lord only knows what it was but it was fast and long and, I thought, bluey-white in colour. Now, I still haven’t seen this mysterious presence again but that didn’t stop me from going to the nearest Hyaku-en store (100yen shop) and buying the biggest can of insect spray I could find and nuking my kitchen. My gas detector alarm went off I used so much of the stuff and I can no longer feel my legs. Only kidding, but hopefully Percy can’t feel any of his. We’ve been told not to step on them for two reasons:
1) They may be carrying eggs. One crunch and all the little eggs go everywhere and you have an infestation. Nice.
2) When they get squished they released pheromones telling all their little mates to come and have a party at mine. Again, infestation.
We’ve also been told about Huntsmen (spider that grow on average to the size of an adult’s hand and that beat their prey to death), centipedes (which can kill apparently) and hornets (one of which was buzzing around my windows on the second day here and which could probably have eaten my head whole. I’ve seen smaller cars. They can kill as well and will physically go for you if you anger them/swat at them/if they feel like it). I did however on my travels see a tiny little dormouse running down the road and into someone else’s house. Aw. Lucky bugger.
Oh, and I found the modem. It was behind a cardboard box with a phone/fax combo on it.
More pics, mostly from the Kumamoto City Orientation put on by JET:
Kumamoto Castle. Mmm, pointy.
A view of Kumamoto City from the top of the castle. As you can see, it's not the biggest place in the world (that would be Preston).
Can you see me? This is from the pub-crawl after the second day of the Orientation. The guy in the middle is the other Jet in my town a great bloke from LA called Ellison.
Couple of more recent ones now, this was taken last week (the 3rd of September) and it's me and some of the other Yatsushiro ALTs (plus some of the second and third yearer's Japanese mates)
Me looking rather surprised in a Karaoke parlour. That's an Irish ALT called Dalbhagh (Dalva) in the foreground. She scary.
Anyway, that's your lot. Until next time...
So far it’s been good. Great in fact: I’ve met some great people, done some great things, and generally felt great about it all. Course, the danger here is that it can’t possibly continue to be great for the entire duration of my stay (however long that may be) and although it is all still, well….great, I’m beginning to imagine how it might not always be so.
I’ve started to understand the idea of ‘culture shock’ a bit, although I wouldn’t use that particular term myself. ‘Culture frustration’ is perhaps more accurate. I’m starting to get a bit fed up of not being able to understand anything, a bit sick of feeling as helpless as a particularly undereducated 4 year old. And it’s not even as if my Japanese isn’t improving, I’ve learnt a truckload of new phrases not to mention a great deal more about the grammar but these are trivial advances when you’re sitting in a restaurant being spoken at in machinegun bursts of a language that has absolutely nothing in common with your own. The culture itself isn’t particularly shocking, just a bit hard to get to grips with when you can’t even attach the correct “goodbye” to the correct situation.
And my supervisor…he’s a lovely chap and has been indispensable but bless him he’s got absolutely zero knowledge of anything more technologically advanced than a desk drawer. And I’m not kidding. Take this example; my predecessor had an internet account where she rented the modem from the phone company who obviously requested it back at the end of her contract. With the former JET in question having left the country, the responsibility of sending the modem back passed onto my supervisor.
He sent them her phone. Her actual phone that she had bought with her own money. Not a rented phone. Not even just a phone: a phone/fax combo. He mistook a phone/fax combo for a modem. He told me that he thought it was a bit odd that the modem had paper in it. Douglas Adams couldn’t make this shit up. That thing was expensive too, about 40000 yen (£200) and I’ll be buggered if I’m forking out the same amount again if the telephone company have lost it/thrown it away in bemusement. You can imagine how hard it is to try to get this guy to help me with setting up the internet. That’s one Japanese stereotype out of the window then.
The apartment too has lost some of its initial sheen. I’ve been to a few other JET houses and they’ve all been, if not bigger then newer. I’ve started applying such terms as “basic” and even “ramshackle” to my pad, which may be a bit unfair with regards to everything except the kitchen. It really is a nightmare to do anything with. I’m not perhaps the best, ahem, cook in the world but there’s hardly room to put two plates down side by side in there. Hmm. I’ve also had my first bug issue. I decided to have a cleanup on Saturday (as most of the rooms didn’t look to have been hovered before I arrived) and while moving the bin a cockroach the size of my face scuttled across the floor and under the freezer. I actually screamed. I may even have swooned. This thing was bigger than most of the plates I own, Christ knows what sort of food it thought I was throwing away as a three course meal wouldn’t have sated it. I immediately armed myself with a Tupperware bowl and a poker stick thing and set about thrashing the space under my white goods. Or rather, I spent an hour working up the courage to. As it happens Percy, which is how I now refer to him, was not to be seen again that night so I closed off the kitchen and dreamt, for some reason, of Spaniards with 8 legs.
Today however, he resurfaced with a friend. I glimpsed him moving between the freezer and washer and proceeded to run screaming from the kitchen once more. A few hours later, for various reasons, I needed to go out so tentatively ventured back into the kitchen, keeping my tootsies as far from any dark areas as possible, and turned the door handle. Christ almighty, something ran from the front door to, yes you’ve guessed it, the back of the freezer. Lord only knows what it was but it was fast and long and, I thought, bluey-white in colour. Now, I still haven’t seen this mysterious presence again but that didn’t stop me from going to the nearest Hyaku-en store (100yen shop) and buying the biggest can of insect spray I could find and nuking my kitchen. My gas detector alarm went off I used so much of the stuff and I can no longer feel my legs. Only kidding, but hopefully Percy can’t feel any of his. We’ve been told not to step on them for two reasons:
1) They may be carrying eggs. One crunch and all the little eggs go everywhere and you have an infestation. Nice.
2) When they get squished they released pheromones telling all their little mates to come and have a party at mine. Again, infestation.
We’ve also been told about Huntsmen (spider that grow on average to the size of an adult’s hand and that beat their prey to death), centipedes (which can kill apparently) and hornets (one of which was buzzing around my windows on the second day here and which could probably have eaten my head whole. I’ve seen smaller cars. They can kill as well and will physically go for you if you anger them/swat at them/if they feel like it). I did however on my travels see a tiny little dormouse running down the road and into someone else’s house. Aw. Lucky bugger.
Oh, and I found the modem. It was behind a cardboard box with a phone/fax combo on it.
More pics, mostly from the Kumamoto City Orientation put on by JET:
Kumamoto Castle. Mmm, pointy.
A view of Kumamoto City from the top of the castle. As you can see, it's not the biggest place in the world (that would be Preston).
Can you see me? This is from the pub-crawl after the second day of the Orientation. The guy in the middle is the other Jet in my town a great bloke from LA called Ellison.
Couple of more recent ones now, this was taken last week (the 3rd of September) and it's me and some of the other Yatsushiro ALTs (plus some of the second and third yearer's Japanese mates)
Me looking rather surprised in a Karaoke parlour. That's an Irish ALT called Dalbhagh (Dalva) in the foreground. She scary.
Anyway, that's your lot. Until next time...
Friday, September 02, 2005
Kagami
Ok, this is the first of my "archived" blogs that I wrote when I was offline. Enjoy!
Kagami
Coke cans are smaller here. Nissan Skylines carry families rather than Rude Boys. They do have shops emblazoned with “Super Happy Time Inside!” type English. Pachinko really is as pointless as I’d thought and it’s much, much hotter than I expected.
Just a few of the things I’ve noticed since I arrived in Kagami-machi (machi=town). I’m writing this Blog entry offline 3 days after I arrived, but as the internet isn’t working I have no idea when I’ll get chance to post it up. The likelihood is that I’ll post it up in a few weeks time when everything is sorted out.
Anyway, Kagami. It’s actually quite nice. When I first arrived I was terrified that they really had stuck me in the arse end of nowhere. I was greeted at the airport by two schoolgirls waving a huge sign with “Richard – Welcome to Hikawa High School” written in large, haiku-esque lines. I greeted them with what I thought was a cheery ”Konnichiwa” and they smiled and repeated the greeting rather coyly. Hmm, thought I. They led me over to Fukuda-sensei, my supervisor for the duration of my stay who turned out to be fairly competent at English and a nice bloke to boot.
The girls and I took the bus back to Yatsushiro train station (where they’re close to completing a Shinkansen (Bullet Train) line) with Fukuda-sensei following in his Subaru. 20 minutes from Yatsushiro is Kagami and it looked bloody awful. Tiny, tiny (and I mean tiny) roads that a fat man couldn’t walk down without getting wedged complemented ramshackle farmhouses and dodgy looking dogs that seemed to live in them alone. True, the scenery is like something you’d find in the Big Book of Beautiful Mountains or World’s Greenest Landscapes (think Thin Red Line and you’re there) but the shanty town look Kagami seemed to be going for got me worried.
As it happens, Kagami isn’t like that at all. For some reason, probably for his own sense of morbid fascination, Fukuda-sensei had taken me through the back streets. The main street of Kagami is reasonable large, certainly very long. Probably about the size of Cleveleys high street but as I say, longer. Hikawa High school, where I’m based looked Ok, like any other High School in the world.
What I really want to write about are the people. Wow. This is one thing I thought the JET handbook might have been exaggerating; the so called “David Beckham” factor. As I’m in quite a small town, the all knowing handbook had warned that I may be treated…differently in Japan. Perhaps the best way to sum up the reception I got is the example of when Fukuda-sensei was giving an extracurricular English lesson yesterday (Thursday the 4th). I went along to see how the lesson worked, if not to actually help out. On my way there I casually “Konnichiwa-ed” a couple of students who turned to me in shock before suddenly bursting into laughter. Not nasty laughter though; they looked like the old archive footage of fans at the front of Beatle concerts in the 70s. It was unreal. And it got worse (or better, it still remains to be seen). We were halfway through the lesson when I noticed through the frosted windows (not actually ice you understand, I was almost melting in the heat let alone any water than my have chosen to solidify) a small crowd. As the lesson ended, what seemed like half the school poured into the room all seemingly shouting to get my attention. They’d call out “Richardo-Sensei!” (how cool is that, I’m a sensei!), I’d smile in their general direction and they’d all burst into raucous giggles. And I’m not just talking girls here, all the boys seemed to find me fascinating as well. It’s surreal to say the least but quite flattering at times.
So far the most common questions I’ve been asked (when they find time to breath between the screams) are “Do you have a girlfriend” (“Yes” “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”) and “What is her name?”. If Hannah is reading this you’ll no doubt be happy to know that the ones I showed a picture of you to proceeded to shout “Sexy!” for a good five minutes. Obviously these questions tend to come from the girls, the guys seem to sit they and guffaw to themselves.
The girls seem to be more communicative than the boys generally, probably because they know more English. The competence level is very low however and with most of the questions being barely recognisable I certainly have a challenge ahead of me. Fukuda-sensei, who I’ll be teaching with exclusively until April, has some very odd ideas of how to teach. He’s dragged up some ages old theory by Ogden called “Basic English.” Ogden thought that all concepts in English could be expressed using 850 words and for some insane reason Fukuda-sensei thinks this is the way to teach his class. As far as I know, Ogden’s theory wasn’t very well received when he made it God knows how many decades ago so why we should be teaching it to Japanese children is unknown. He actually wants to drill the 850 words into the student’s heads…In my opinion that’s madness, the little enthusiasm they have for English lessons would go out of the window. Oh well, I’ll have to try and work him around.
As I said, not much is working here in my apartment at the moment. My laptop is up and running, and the power converters I bought work. The new TV (which is huge) isn’t tuned in, and the satellite channels and internet need to be reconnected. Apparently I can’t use the car until my Inkan (a Japanese ink seal used instead of a signature) is registered and until the insurance is reregistered with the teachers union they have down here. Hopefully I’m off to set up a bank account today, having already applied for an Alien Registration card. I’m also hoping to get a Multiple Re-entry pass, a card that allows me to leave Japan as many times as I like during my possible 3 year stay. I got this mainly for vacations to Korea and Hong Kong, but it also works if I want to come home. It costs 6000yen (£30) but lasts for as long as my Visa does.
The apartment itself is larger than I thought, with three large-ish rooms and a smaller kitchen and bathroom (and a separate toilet). Two of the rooms are tatami matted (straw mats used for sitting), one is the bedroom and the other seems to be a spare which is odd as it’s the largest. The living room has the all important air-conditioning unit within, as well as the TV and a small couch.
Natasha, my predecessor has left me absolutely loads of stuff, some useful and some not. For example, I have every spice known to man, but also a scratching post for a cat. A hand-drawn map of Kagami and a big box labelled “Xmas stuff”. Some laptop speakers (very handy), but also the complete Ultimate Fighting Championship: World Series on VHS. Anyway, there’s more than enough space to put everything. Infact, I seem to have an excess of storage space; I found a door today I had previously missed that contained a whole other cupboard (and for some reason, a skateboard).
It does still feel like I’m living in someone else’s house at the moment. Natasha has left her JET calendar up and almost everyday has something pencilled in that she should have been doing, as I said the myriad of cupboards are still filled with a lot of her stuff, a small collection of the worst taste in CD’s I’ve ever seen lies in the living room, and various Canada related artefacts are placed in full view. I will try and unpack today (it’s now Saturday the 6th as I write this) but I have to go to the school to phone the local JET reps (well, I don’t have to but they’re organising a party at for this weekend and I couldn’t get through yesterday).
Pictures (click to see a bigger version)!
My apartment block, containing 4 apartos. Mine is actually offscreen, it's the upper right one. And yes, that's my car.
The main high street of Kagami. Quiet.
A festival in Yatsushiro City, the nearest urban centre. These are very popular and this one involved these poor people dancing for about an hour to 3 repeated songs...
My "Inkan" or personal seal, used in place of a signature. It actually says Godwin in the Japanese Katakana alphabet.
Had to put this one in last. That's me, obviously, looking quizzically at a can of "British Style" iced milk tea. Surprisingly nice.
Kagami
Coke cans are smaller here. Nissan Skylines carry families rather than Rude Boys. They do have shops emblazoned with “Super Happy Time Inside!” type English. Pachinko really is as pointless as I’d thought and it’s much, much hotter than I expected.
Just a few of the things I’ve noticed since I arrived in Kagami-machi (machi=town). I’m writing this Blog entry offline 3 days after I arrived, but as the internet isn’t working I have no idea when I’ll get chance to post it up. The likelihood is that I’ll post it up in a few weeks time when everything is sorted out.
Anyway, Kagami. It’s actually quite nice. When I first arrived I was terrified that they really had stuck me in the arse end of nowhere. I was greeted at the airport by two schoolgirls waving a huge sign with “Richard – Welcome to Hikawa High School” written in large, haiku-esque lines. I greeted them with what I thought was a cheery ”Konnichiwa” and they smiled and repeated the greeting rather coyly. Hmm, thought I. They led me over to Fukuda-sensei, my supervisor for the duration of my stay who turned out to be fairly competent at English and a nice bloke to boot.
The girls and I took the bus back to Yatsushiro train station (where they’re close to completing a Shinkansen (Bullet Train) line) with Fukuda-sensei following in his Subaru. 20 minutes from Yatsushiro is Kagami and it looked bloody awful. Tiny, tiny (and I mean tiny) roads that a fat man couldn’t walk down without getting wedged complemented ramshackle farmhouses and dodgy looking dogs that seemed to live in them alone. True, the scenery is like something you’d find in the Big Book of Beautiful Mountains or World’s Greenest Landscapes (think Thin Red Line and you’re there) but the shanty town look Kagami seemed to be going for got me worried.
As it happens, Kagami isn’t like that at all. For some reason, probably for his own sense of morbid fascination, Fukuda-sensei had taken me through the back streets. The main street of Kagami is reasonable large, certainly very long. Probably about the size of Cleveleys high street but as I say, longer. Hikawa High school, where I’m based looked Ok, like any other High School in the world.
What I really want to write about are the people. Wow. This is one thing I thought the JET handbook might have been exaggerating; the so called “David Beckham” factor. As I’m in quite a small town, the all knowing handbook had warned that I may be treated…differently in Japan. Perhaps the best way to sum up the reception I got is the example of when Fukuda-sensei was giving an extracurricular English lesson yesterday (Thursday the 4th). I went along to see how the lesson worked, if not to actually help out. On my way there I casually “Konnichiwa-ed” a couple of students who turned to me in shock before suddenly bursting into laughter. Not nasty laughter though; they looked like the old archive footage of fans at the front of Beatle concerts in the 70s. It was unreal. And it got worse (or better, it still remains to be seen). We were halfway through the lesson when I noticed through the frosted windows (not actually ice you understand, I was almost melting in the heat let alone any water than my have chosen to solidify) a small crowd. As the lesson ended, what seemed like half the school poured into the room all seemingly shouting to get my attention. They’d call out “Richardo-Sensei!” (how cool is that, I’m a sensei!), I’d smile in their general direction and they’d all burst into raucous giggles. And I’m not just talking girls here, all the boys seemed to find me fascinating as well. It’s surreal to say the least but quite flattering at times.
So far the most common questions I’ve been asked (when they find time to breath between the screams) are “Do you have a girlfriend” (“Yes” “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”) and “What is her name?”. If Hannah is reading this you’ll no doubt be happy to know that the ones I showed a picture of you to proceeded to shout “Sexy!” for a good five minutes. Obviously these questions tend to come from the girls, the guys seem to sit they and guffaw to themselves.
The girls seem to be more communicative than the boys generally, probably because they know more English. The competence level is very low however and with most of the questions being barely recognisable I certainly have a challenge ahead of me. Fukuda-sensei, who I’ll be teaching with exclusively until April, has some very odd ideas of how to teach. He’s dragged up some ages old theory by Ogden called “Basic English.” Ogden thought that all concepts in English could be expressed using 850 words and for some insane reason Fukuda-sensei thinks this is the way to teach his class. As far as I know, Ogden’s theory wasn’t very well received when he made it God knows how many decades ago so why we should be teaching it to Japanese children is unknown. He actually wants to drill the 850 words into the student’s heads…In my opinion that’s madness, the little enthusiasm they have for English lessons would go out of the window. Oh well, I’ll have to try and work him around.
As I said, not much is working here in my apartment at the moment. My laptop is up and running, and the power converters I bought work. The new TV (which is huge) isn’t tuned in, and the satellite channels and internet need to be reconnected. Apparently I can’t use the car until my Inkan (a Japanese ink seal used instead of a signature) is registered and until the insurance is reregistered with the teachers union they have down here. Hopefully I’m off to set up a bank account today, having already applied for an Alien Registration card. I’m also hoping to get a Multiple Re-entry pass, a card that allows me to leave Japan as many times as I like during my possible 3 year stay. I got this mainly for vacations to Korea and Hong Kong, but it also works if I want to come home. It costs 6000yen (£30) but lasts for as long as my Visa does.
The apartment itself is larger than I thought, with three large-ish rooms and a smaller kitchen and bathroom (and a separate toilet). Two of the rooms are tatami matted (straw mats used for sitting), one is the bedroom and the other seems to be a spare which is odd as it’s the largest. The living room has the all important air-conditioning unit within, as well as the TV and a small couch.
Natasha, my predecessor has left me absolutely loads of stuff, some useful and some not. For example, I have every spice known to man, but also a scratching post for a cat. A hand-drawn map of Kagami and a big box labelled “Xmas stuff”. Some laptop speakers (very handy), but also the complete Ultimate Fighting Championship: World Series on VHS. Anyway, there’s more than enough space to put everything. Infact, I seem to have an excess of storage space; I found a door today I had previously missed that contained a whole other cupboard (and for some reason, a skateboard).
It does still feel like I’m living in someone else’s house at the moment. Natasha has left her JET calendar up and almost everyday has something pencilled in that she should have been doing, as I said the myriad of cupboards are still filled with a lot of her stuff, a small collection of the worst taste in CD’s I’ve ever seen lies in the living room, and various Canada related artefacts are placed in full view. I will try and unpack today (it’s now Saturday the 6th as I write this) but I have to go to the school to phone the local JET reps (well, I don’t have to but they’re organising a party at for this weekend and I couldn’t get through yesterday).
Pictures (click to see a bigger version)!
My apartment block, containing 4 apartos. Mine is actually offscreen, it's the upper right one. And yes, that's my car.
The main high street of Kagami. Quiet.
A festival in Yatsushiro City, the nearest urban centre. These are very popular and this one involved these poor people dancing for about an hour to 3 repeated songs...
My "Inkan" or personal seal, used in place of a signature. It actually says Godwin in the Japanese Katakana alphabet.
Had to put this one in last. That's me, obviously, looking quizzically at a can of "British Style" iced milk tea. Surprisingly nice.
Hallelujah!!!
'Ello.
Fiannly, finally my internet has been connected in my little apartment. Thank you Mr Yahoo-Japan. It's slightly slower than I would have hoped though:
(the top number is the download rate, approx 8mbps)
Considering I'm signed up to a 50Mbps plan it's a little off. Can't have everything I suppose.
Anyway, I have been writing blog entries since I got here to post up when I get the chance. So I'll start posting them up with their associated pictures ASAP.
Yahoooooo!
Fiannly, finally my internet has been connected in my little apartment. Thank you Mr Yahoo-Japan. It's slightly slower than I would have hoped though:
(the top number is the download rate, approx 8mbps)
Considering I'm signed up to a 50Mbps plan it's a little off. Can't have everything I suppose.
Anyway, I have been writing blog entries since I got here to post up when I get the chance. So I'll start posting them up with their associated pictures ASAP.
Yahoooooo!
Monday, August 01, 2005
Tokyo
I'm writing this while sitting in bed on the 24th floor of the Tokyo Keio Plaza hotel. There seems to be a wireless network up here but I'm not sure why; I'm certainly not complaining however.
Well, it's certainly been some kind of day. I haven't slept in almost 24 hours (I think) and I've been busy.
Leaving the folks and Hannah at the departure lounge certainly wasn't easy, but luckily the flight itself was fine. The in flight entertainment was amazing, they had 40 movies to choose from as well as a digital jukebox of 50 CDs. This is probably why I haven't had any sleep. Anyway, after the excruciating pain in my ears had subsided after landing I realised we were at the hotel. And a very nice one it is too. For example, here's the view from my window:
And here’s the view from the 45th floor bar in the hotel:
Mmm, very Lost in Translation. Infact, I’ve been reminded of this film multiple times in the last few days. I was in a lift with 10 Japanese businessmen, none over 5’7. I’ve had to bend over double to get my head under the showerhead in my bathroom. I’ve sat staring at Japanese TV, utterly confused at what I supposed to be watched (for all of 3 minutes, I’m busy remember?).
The first day was quite surreal. After we got to the hotel we decided that Tokyo couldn’t not be explored so we set off. We actually managed to catch a train to Electric city in the Akihabara region, a town that sells nothing but electronic goods. We also managed, with a suitable amount of odd looks and smirks, to order lunch at a tiny little eatery by pointing at plastic mockups of the meals and raising one finger.
I’m finishing off this entry sat on the floor of the hotel’s 4th floor lobby, mainly because there’s no space in the room with the seats abd they don’t call these tings wireless networks for nothing. I was stopped for the first time to day by a bunch of Japanese schoolgirls, clad in clichéd but traditional garb, and asked for photos. I spent the next five minutes grinning madly as a neverending stream of them marched up, got their friend to point their phone at me and pulled a two fingered gesture that I’m assuming was polite.
Better end this here, my back is killing and people won’t stop taking photos, as if they’d never seen 50 people sat on a hotel floor typing on laptops….
Well, it's certainly been some kind of day. I haven't slept in almost 24 hours (I think) and I've been busy.
Leaving the folks and Hannah at the departure lounge certainly wasn't easy, but luckily the flight itself was fine. The in flight entertainment was amazing, they had 40 movies to choose from as well as a digital jukebox of 50 CDs. This is probably why I haven't had any sleep. Anyway, after the excruciating pain in my ears had subsided after landing I realised we were at the hotel. And a very nice one it is too. For example, here's the view from my window:
And here’s the view from the 45th floor bar in the hotel:
Mmm, very Lost in Translation. Infact, I’ve been reminded of this film multiple times in the last few days. I was in a lift with 10 Japanese businessmen, none over 5’7. I’ve had to bend over double to get my head under the showerhead in my bathroom. I’ve sat staring at Japanese TV, utterly confused at what I supposed to be watched (for all of 3 minutes, I’m busy remember?).
The first day was quite surreal. After we got to the hotel we decided that Tokyo couldn’t not be explored so we set off. We actually managed to catch a train to Electric city in the Akihabara region, a town that sells nothing but electronic goods. We also managed, with a suitable amount of odd looks and smirks, to order lunch at a tiny little eatery by pointing at plastic mockups of the meals and raising one finger.
I’m finishing off this entry sat on the floor of the hotel’s 4th floor lobby, mainly because there’s no space in the room with the seats abd they don’t call these tings wireless networks for nothing. I was stopped for the first time to day by a bunch of Japanese schoolgirls, clad in clichéd but traditional garb, and asked for photos. I spent the next five minutes grinning madly as a neverending stream of them marched up, got their friend to point their phone at me and pulled a two fingered gesture that I’m assuming was polite.
Better end this here, my back is killing and people won’t stop taking photos, as if they’d never seen 50 people sat on a hotel floor typing on laptops….
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Events
It occured to me while writing the last post that quite a lot has happened to me since I last posted. So I'm going to do another to elaborate.
Firstly, Live 8. I'd say "wow" but I don't think it quite qualified. It was more of a "very good" than a "wow". Some of the acts kicked metaphorical arse while the rest were...ok. I have completed this handy guide to my opinions:
Best
REM
Snoop Dogg (really)
McCartney + various
Worst
Snow Patrol
Velvet Revolver
Joss Stone
To give an impression of how many people were there, here's a picture of the queue. I say "the" queue, there were two, both this size.
Crikey!
And then of course I had my JET orientation in London. I say it was in London, it was actually about as far outside London as you can get while still being in London. It consisted of a reasonably enjoyable day of Japanese culture lessons and a small amount of Japanese Language lessons. The second day consisted of 6 almost striaght hours of Japanese language tutoring. Now, as fascinating as the language is, that much exposure is bound to saturate even the most fanatic Asiophile. That and, of course, there were other things on everyone's mind...
We were, thankfully, nowhere near the London bombings when they occured, however, being so far out we had no access to any TV or radios. The rumours started appearing at about 11am in the first lunch break when people began getting garbled texts telling tales ranging from there being an electircal fault on the tubes to three buses and 4 tubes being blown up. Eventually of course we began to get the gist of what was going on. With the tubes shut down the majority of us were stranded as most had come along the Met line, now closed. Thankfully a bloke called Omar was going my way, and gave a few of us a lift back home (all of whom have been placed on the southern island of Kyushu) and actually hearing the death figures and Tony Blair's speech on the radio was sobering to say the least.
The next day me and Hannah gave blood after seeing a Blood Donor van at the local supermarket. It was supremely surreal being so close and yet so far from such horrific acts and it seemed a natureal thing to do to help in any small way we could. Stations I had passed through mere days before were now closed to the public and considered crime scenes. On our way to Blackpool via Euston we passed through Kings Cross Tube station (still closed) on a train identical to the one lying not 200 metres away in pieces. It was an extremely poignant moment, seeing everyone on the sparsely populated "rush-hour" tube turn to look at the once mundane station.
Anyway, it's all getting a bit morbid for my taste so I'll leave it here. It's a lovely day outside and I'm off for a Pimms and a book.
Firstly, Live 8. I'd say "wow" but I don't think it quite qualified. It was more of a "very good" than a "wow". Some of the acts kicked metaphorical arse while the rest were...ok. I have completed this handy guide to my opinions:
Best
REM
Snoop Dogg (really)
McCartney + various
Worst
Snow Patrol
Velvet Revolver
Joss Stone
To give an impression of how many people were there, here's a picture of the queue. I say "the" queue, there were two, both this size.
Crikey!
And then of course I had my JET orientation in London. I say it was in London, it was actually about as far outside London as you can get while still being in London. It consisted of a reasonably enjoyable day of Japanese culture lessons and a small amount of Japanese Language lessons. The second day consisted of 6 almost striaght hours of Japanese language tutoring. Now, as fascinating as the language is, that much exposure is bound to saturate even the most fanatic Asiophile. That and, of course, there were other things on everyone's mind...
We were, thankfully, nowhere near the London bombings when they occured, however, being so far out we had no access to any TV or radios. The rumours started appearing at about 11am in the first lunch break when people began getting garbled texts telling tales ranging from there being an electircal fault on the tubes to three buses and 4 tubes being blown up. Eventually of course we began to get the gist of what was going on. With the tubes shut down the majority of us were stranded as most had come along the Met line, now closed. Thankfully a bloke called Omar was going my way, and gave a few of us a lift back home (all of whom have been placed on the southern island of Kyushu) and actually hearing the death figures and Tony Blair's speech on the radio was sobering to say the least.
The next day me and Hannah gave blood after seeing a Blood Donor van at the local supermarket. It was supremely surreal being so close and yet so far from such horrific acts and it seemed a natureal thing to do to help in any small way we could. Stations I had passed through mere days before were now closed to the public and considered crime scenes. On our way to Blackpool via Euston we passed through Kings Cross Tube station (still closed) on a train identical to the one lying not 200 metres away in pieces. It was an extremely poignant moment, seeing everyone on the sparsely populated "rush-hour" tube turn to look at the once mundane station.
Anyway, it's all getting a bit morbid for my taste so I'll leave it here. It's a lovely day outside and I'm off for a Pimms and a book.
Comments
Ooh, I have comments to some of my posts! I haven't read any of them yet so no doubt they're all derogatory but hey, that's why i clicked the "Allow all users to post comments" button.
EDIT: Could people leabve their name after they post a comment? So far it's all very confusing. Interesting though, to quote Jon Jon, "I love it!"
EDIT: Could people leabve their name after they post a comment? So far it's all very confusing. Interesting though, to quote Jon Jon, "I love it!"
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Over
Well, it's a bit late but I've left Leeds and am now residing in Blackpool once more. However, due to an internet connection as fragile as a porcelain flower in a cattle show, I am forced to relocate to my parents frankly monolithic computer. The keyboard is made from solid granite and each letter takes a good ten minutes to press. This post therefore, has taken some serious effort.
Big Brother 6 eh?
Derek: Posh posh posh bitch Maggie Thatcher darling posh moan
Maxwell: Potatoe off the hook slapper jog off mate potatoe potatoe
Saskia: I'm not racist but ahhahahahahha oh Maxwell is so funny don't fancy him you're so great Maxwell
I think there are a few others still left in aswell.
As I'm on this piece of fossilised shite, I am cut off from my vast archive of pictures. However, I did manage to find one picture taken just after I left Ebberston terrace:
Big Brother 6 eh?
Derek: Posh posh posh bitch Maggie Thatcher darling posh moan
Maxwell: Potatoe off the hook slapper jog off mate potatoe potatoe
Saskia: I'm not racist but ahhahahahahha oh Maxwell is so funny don't fancy him you're so great Maxwell
I think there are a few others still left in aswell.
As I'm on this piece of fossilised shite, I am cut off from my vast archive of pictures. However, I did manage to find one picture taken just after I left Ebberston terrace:
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Sith
Well, it's a bit late, but here's my Revenge of the Sith impressions. Firstly, I would like to distance myself from the frankly awful Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones. Disgusting. Thankfully, RoTS does too. Well, mostly.
The good: the film.
The bad: the nerds sat next to us laughing at Yoda. "Yeah man, he's green and like, talks funny." Fuck off and die.
Anyway, it was good. In the sense that I got to explore my homoerotic side by looking at Hayden Christiansen and getting a stiffy. Mmm.
I would give it 7 noses out of 5.
The good: the film.
The bad: the nerds sat next to us laughing at Yoda. "Yeah man, he's green and like, talks funny." Fuck off and die.
Anyway, it was good. In the sense that I got to explore my homoerotic side by looking at Hayden Christiansen and getting a stiffy. Mmm.
I would give it 7 noses out of 5.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Japan
I have got my placement through for Japan, the position of which I will illustrate on this helpful map from my archives:
As you can see, I am about as far from my first choice of Yokohama as they can get me. I now have another theory behind why I was chosen for the JET programme; they hate me. They hate me so much they want to throw me to the primatives and have them rip me limb from limb before eating my heart, lungs and testicles with what can only be described as tribal sporks.
Oh well, at least I got on the programme at all. For that I am grateful. Yes.
As you can see, I am about as far from my first choice of Yokohama as they can get me. I now have another theory behind why I was chosen for the JET programme; they hate me. They hate me so much they want to throw me to the primatives and have them rip me limb from limb before eating my heart, lungs and testicles with what can only be described as tribal sporks.
Oh well, at least I got on the programme at all. For that I am grateful. Yes.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
"E3 conferences 'a bit shit' shocker!"
This is copied directly from an email I sent to Gary (him down there):
"If I were to rank the conferences on quality of presentation, they'd look a bit like this:
1) Sony
2) Nintendo
3) Microsoft
Sony's conference was no nonsense. These are the specs, this is what it can do, these are some game trailers, this is the console. The specs stuff was dull however, and most of the game trailers were almost definately not ingame (the amazing Killzone 2 demo being highest on that list)
Nintendo had the advantage of Reggie but an awful DJ set using the DS (padding?) and baby-talking woman Tina (whining into Nintendogs) spolit it.
Microsoft's presentation was awful. "Yo yo yo, dis is da future of da gaming zen. 1 billion users on Live by tomorrow! Yeah!" It actually sounded like they hired people to whoop whenever J Allard spoke. Some excruciating "comedy" (including a be-wigged 360 faceplate for the bald Peter Moore before his presentation, hilarious) topped it off. Awful.
For content however:
1)Sony
2)Microsoft
3)Nintendo
Same reasons as above, but Sony and MS at least showed some next gen games, even if they were prerendered. Nintendo spent almost the entire conference on DS games everyone has seen before and talking about online functions (which, fair enough, is what they said they'd do). The Revolution showing was a joke, obviously only meant to appease the fans. Plus it looked like an Alba DVD player.
I know Nintendo had no intentions of showing the Revolution and they let us know this well before the conference but still, the conference was mainly talk with no substance, the worse of the three overall in my opinion. MS's one was a joke presentation wise but the online stuff was quite interesting. Sony's was rather blandly presented, but the hard stuff was there, the stuff the fans wanted to see."
How exciting.
"If I were to rank the conferences on quality of presentation, they'd look a bit like this:
1) Sony
2) Nintendo
3) Microsoft
Sony's conference was no nonsense. These are the specs, this is what it can do, these are some game trailers, this is the console. The specs stuff was dull however, and most of the game trailers were almost definately not ingame (the amazing Killzone 2 demo being highest on that list)
Nintendo had the advantage of Reggie but an awful DJ set using the DS (padding?) and baby-talking woman Tina (whining into Nintendogs) spolit it.
Microsoft's presentation was awful. "Yo yo yo, dis is da future of da gaming zen. 1 billion users on Live by tomorrow! Yeah!" It actually sounded like they hired people to whoop whenever J Allard spoke. Some excruciating "comedy" (including a be-wigged 360 faceplate for the bald Peter Moore before his presentation, hilarious) topped it off. Awful.
For content however:
1)Sony
2)Microsoft
3)Nintendo
Same reasons as above, but Sony and MS at least showed some next gen games, even if they were prerendered. Nintendo spent almost the entire conference on DS games everyone has seen before and talking about online functions (which, fair enough, is what they said they'd do). The Revolution showing was a joke, obviously only meant to appease the fans. Plus it looked like an Alba DVD player.
I know Nintendo had no intentions of showing the Revolution and they let us know this well before the conference but still, the conference was mainly talk with no substance, the worse of the three overall in my opinion. MS's one was a joke presentation wise but the online stuff was quite interesting. Sony's was rather blandly presented, but the hard stuff was there, the stuff the fans wanted to see."
How exciting.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Over....nearly
I didn't want this blog to be a "ow ma gawd, ma liife's awl messed ap!" blog, but more of a "What what what?" effort. Unfortunately I feel compelled to type about my workload. It is horrendous. I doubt Winston Churcill, when he saw in the distance the fleet of German bombers and foighters rapidly approching our little isle, felt as daunted as I did when confronted with 4, count them, 4 3000 word essays. One of them involved King Arthur. The others did not.
However, I am now rapidly approaching the End Game. With two of these gargantuan scriptures out of the way, and another halfway through, I feel I am able to speak about the tortures my mind has been through. Oh god, the tortures.
Seriously though, it's been a hard slog. Almost done now though. Anyway, here's another picture from my archives. I am not in it.
This is my housemate Jon. He is sleeping
However, I am now rapidly approaching the End Game. With two of these gargantuan scriptures out of the way, and another halfway through, I feel I am able to speak about the tortures my mind has been through. Oh god, the tortures.
Seriously though, it's been a hard slog. Almost done now though. Anyway, here's another picture from my archives. I am not in it.
This is my housemate Jon. He is sleeping
Friday, April 22, 2005
Right
Well something went wrong there. With the blog I mean, not with the world in general.
Anyway, I had to restart and lost 2 very informative and downright hilarious posts. Really, they were fantastic. This post would not be fit to lick the sweaty mochasin slippers of the posts that were lost. I shall create a tablet, engrave it with their names and mourn it every April 21st. Here written are our fallen comrades:
Fireworks
The Holy Grail
It's too nice to do anything today so I have done precisely nothing. Well, I went to a lecture given by the producer of ITV Calender news . But only because I had to. It was rubbish. So, to liven up this frankly rather flat post is a lovely picture from my archives. I am not in it.
This is my friend Gary. He is waving hello to you.
Anyway, I had to restart and lost 2 very informative and downright hilarious posts. Really, they were fantastic. This post would not be fit to lick the sweaty mochasin slippers of the posts that were lost. I shall create a tablet, engrave it with their names and mourn it every April 21st. Here written are our fallen comrades:
Fireworks
The Holy Grail
It's too nice to do anything today so I have done precisely nothing. Well, I went to a lecture given by the producer of ITV Calender news . But only because I had to. It was rubbish. So, to liven up this frankly rather flat post is a lovely picture from my archives. I am not in it.
This is my friend Gary. He is waving hello to you.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Wrong
Somethings gone wrong here. Not only can I not view my Blog in Firefox, the posting method is stuck on HTML. What the hell....
First Post
First post? The last time that level of orginality was reached we ended up with that annoying Subway advert. You know. The one with the bloke. With glasses.
Well, it is my first post and I have no idea what to write in what is essentially a useless tool, at least for the next few months. I started this mainly because I'm (hopefully) off to Japan on the JET programme (www.jet-uk.org) soon and this might be an interesting way to communicate with home.
Home. Well it won't be here in Leeds for long thank god. Thanks to the weather and frankly obscene amount of work to be done, its hardly like I'm having a good time here. To be honest I shouldn't even be writing this, I should be researching about l33t talk and King Arthur. Not together obviously.
Well, it is my first post and I have no idea what to write in what is essentially a useless tool, at least for the next few months. I started this mainly because I'm (hopefully) off to Japan on the JET programme (www.jet-uk.org) soon and this might be an interesting way to communicate with home.
Home. Well it won't be here in Leeds for long thank god. Thanks to the weather and frankly obscene amount of work to be done, its hardly like I'm having a good time here. To be honest I shouldn't even be writing this, I should be researching about l33t talk and King Arthur. Not together obviously.
Though I'd put something on here to liven up this page, seems as it might not get updated for a bit:
Aah, New Years Eve '04. The memories. The memories.....
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