Band of Bloggers

Metallic String

2009-04-05T13:02:00.000-07:00

Suddenly everyone loves The Wire. Suddenly, everyone loves telling everyone else that everyone loves The Wire, but they were loving The Wire first. Everyone, in one way or another is talking about, loving or bragging about The Wire.

The Wire is involving, it's shocking and it's funny. It's warm, then it's stone cold. Reluctantly it draws you in, like a banker all too aware of the financial meltdown but who can smell a juicy loan from ten miles off. Then it spits you out, throws you away like some cheap charlatan in a top hat with holes in his boots. It's confusing, enraging and it just...works. Not as a TV serial, on that front it is a complete failure, but as a piece of entertainment there is none better.

David Simon, the journalist behind the series has described his mangum opus as a televisual novel with each episode representing a chapter. He's right. He's absolutely right. As with a book, it's rare that one chapter on its own is enough for a sitting. As with a book, there are stretches that require reading/watching until they are finished. As with a book, you cannot skip a chapter; to do so leads to utter confusion and a loss of narrative immersion. These reasons, amongst others, are why it fails as a week by week series. This is a show that was made for DVD and I've no doubt whatsoever that the creators knew this. On its original home channel of HBO it shook no trees and rippled no waters. It was a "cult" show. Once it hit DVD though, then the talk started.

I, thankfully, never had to endure the week's wait between chapters and about a year and a half ago watched the five series back to back, stopping only for minor inconveniences such as work and sleep. I believe I was lucky enough to experience the show in the way it was intended to be experienced. The BBC is now showing The Wire every night which I suppose is the best they can do short of clearing the schedule and declaring the next month to be Wire month. Like all cult shows, this emergence into the mainstream brings with it a chorus of dissent from the original viewers; the "cultists" if you will. Early reviews and featurettes in the broadsheets dripped with smug pomposity and in-group/out-group disparity. Upsettingly this sliver of gritty genius has been turned into media intelligentsia propaganda. The brillance of the entwining plotlines and the subtle grace of the performances has taken a backseat to petty one-man-up-manship and braggert posturing. I suppose this will eventually lead, one way or another, to more people watching the show which can only be a good thing. But many will enter the fray already decided in their opinions, either that it's clearly the best thing ever written and something to be discussed in-depth at dinner parties and social gatherings or that it's a pretentious over-rated mess fit only for those who deem themselves above lesser "mainstream" television. If I was to pigeon-hole myself, I would unfortunately side with the former of these two depressing extremes, but I do like to think that I came to my opinions free from duress and was led there by my own interpretation of the show and not the fickle leash of fashion.

Humbug

2008-12-08T14:36:00.000-08:00

So, things have been a bit off recently.

Quite obviously I returned from Japan this summer. Following this was a whistle stop tour of London and the grand return to Blackpool with a parade and dancing girls for all to see. I slowly became accustomed to new and exciting things that were in fact old and boring but were new and exciting to me, such as the fact that…look! The sun, he shines! But where is the humidity? Also, what are these odd discs, heavy as a thousand yen and inscribed with the face of an old lady?

After further exploring the exotic weather and frankly massive monetary units, it became rather evident that the time was rapidly approaching when Hannah would be returning to her adopted homeland. Obviously, this thought wasn’t really relished, at least not by me. Unfortunately for our last day we had taken a trip to Leeds so I could revisit the old University stomping ground and Hannah could meet up with a pair of depressingly successful friends. I think one of them was pregnant. Successful at getting pregnant.

I say “unfortunately” because the experience of driving to Leeds at speeds of over 30mph warped my fragile brain, so used as it was to trailing behind some senile Japanese layman transporting a Nissan full of seed to market at a pace making the Nissan all but redundant. Basically I had a headache. As Hannah chewed the vegetarian Sunflower fat with Mses Pregnant and Successful I, rather than wandering around the city muttering about how young everyone looked as I had planned, lay prostrate in the car trying to keep the sun from my eyes and avoiding the stares of the suspicious car-park attendant. After a few hours, I was invited for a final drink with the threesome. I’d probably have enjoyed it under any other circumstances but I’m afraid that my mind was not only elsewhere, but in a place that seemingly involved prodding with red hot Lego bricks. I joined them regardless and did my best to keep up my end of the conversation but as this revolved mainly around being pregnant or successful I found myself at something of a loss. I’ve never been pregnant, nor have I known anyone suffering from it. Although the results of a pregnancy are well known, what can you say to someone who’s barely halfway to achieving their goal? Obviously weight gain comparisons aren’t going to go down well, no matter how self-defacing. Similarly, fat ankles and lack of breath aren’t usually something I like to point out to a person unless either is causing some sort of public obstruction. As for Ms Successful I didn’t even bother, just glared suspiciously.

Anyway, parting was indeed sweet sorrow especially as this particular parting took place on a dodgy Leeds backstreet with one party safely ensconced behind a thick sheet of Mega Bus brand safety glass and the other trying desperately to stop his brains falling from his ears onto the cold, hard pavement. It was sad. Even sadder, I had to drive back to Blackpool which is not a place I envisage fulfilling the role of happy ending. It’s quite an odd feeling being the one left behind, a role I inflicted on poor Hannah not 3 years ago. I suppose I deserved it really.

Fast forward 4 and a half months and you find me now, a shattered hulk of a man who’s had any and all thoughts of a successful, productive life blown from the water like an errant fishing boat failing to avoid being hit by a Japanese Aegis cruiser (http://www.japanprobe.com/?p=3821). 4 months into the job hunt and I can surmise these 3 things;

1: A recession is not the best time to return to a country.
2: The system wants me to live a cold, boring life shifting numbers from one page to another, and to thank it with the gift of my first born for the pleasure of doing so.
3: To be granted a work experience placement, you must first accrue significant work experience, which of course you need already significant work experience to have access to, which requires a mountain of work experience experience, which of course required you already possess a decade of work experience, which needed…etc etc

4 months. Exactly how many interviews would allow me to qualify 4 months as a successful period do you think? 4? 8? 10? In a 4 month period I have secured precisely 2 interviews, both for the same job. The same job, incidentally, that I did not receive. It’s quite hard not to get rather jaded. I must admit to considering other options over this extended period of prostitution. Perhaps I would say “bollocks!” to these capitalist pigs and abscond from their corrupt regime and travel the world, making sure to stop at the world’s remaining bastions of Socialism to drum up support for the eventual Revolution. Oh yes my friends, Barack is just the beginning. Perhaps I would become a lifelong jobless, a loveable rogue, a jack of all trades; the sort of person the local landlord calls a “rotter” but occasionally hires to move the barrels of IPA. A cheeky chappy. Or maybe I would dedicate myself to more flowery pursuits. I could write a radical account of the young and jobless while listening to the Ramones and channelling the New York scene of the 1960s. Instead, I found myself applying for job after meaningless job. Anything. Everything. Graduate schemes I found to be elitist snobs; sales jobs are snarling pimps demanding targets hit and quotas met. Even the lowly, street sleeping temp jobs evaded my grasp putting me, if we carry this metaphor through, squarely in the role of cancerous leper.

Now we find ourselves once more in the grasp of the festive spirit. Christmas. Anyone who knows me will also know that I adore Christmas. It is, contrary to the rest of the populace it seems, my favourite time of year. This year is obviously different. For one I can’t find a bloody advent calendar. Between the emailing of licky-licky emails to Aldi and The British Coalminers Union I have conducted an extensive search of nearby newsagents, supermarkets, off licences, pet shops, butchers, chiropodists, plumbers and tanners in a vain effort to procure a numbered box containing bits of manky chocolate. Not a single one. Everywhere, sold out. I wonder, did people hear our government urging public spending and apply it solely to advent calendars? Did the manufacturers think people would revert, Cromwell-like, to a sort of post-Christmas state in the glare of collapsing society? Who knows, but I can’t bloody find one. An advent calendar-less Christmas. If there’s a better analogy for my current mental state I for one cannot imagine it.

Laziness

2008-05-07T16:05:00.000-07:00

The fact that I haven’t written anything here for, ooh going on 6 months (actually closer to a year, looking at my blog dates), is probably an indicator of how much I’ve been up to. In fact, it should be seen as a testament to my laziness of late. I have actually been writing entries but either decided against posting them for all to see or have simply forgotten to, hence the laziness. Those in the former category are usually omitted as they’d hold as much interest to people who aren’t me as would listening to the rumblings of someone dissatisfied with daily inane goings-on. Which is, coincidently, exactly what most of them consisted of. Also, I’ve discovered that this blog is accessible from Google under the search term “choseibi”. Try it. I command not only the pole position on the list of results, but also second place as well. I almost deleted the entire thing when I was told of this; thankfully another ALT discovered the fact rather than one of my JTEs. Hello Rachel! Still, a lot of my unpublished entries were negative in the extreme and covered such fascinating topics as the Japanese medical system and cash flow. Oh, and a review of Cloverfield. Most of these entries were therapeutic rants rather than observations of any interest and posting them here seems an unnecessary risk. Anyway.

Three months to go. This is a fact I have to keep reminding myself of, as it seems so ridiculous. Three months? Surely not. It was six months only last week. Wasn’t it? No, it wasn’t. Time has not so much flown as chartered a jet, and taken its best mates Day, Week and Month too. My exact date of return has yet to be set but I’m grasping at the idea of it being sometime in early August. Because of the proximity of my triumphant repatriation, job applications stream constantly from my computer into the jungle that is the interwebnet. So far all appear to be lost, no doubt eaten by some backwards tribe of Email Filters, their remains shovelled hastily into the rapids of the great river Rejection. Never mind, I have plenty of volunteers left.

I’ve been experiencing a great deal of Lasts recently: my last Golden Week holiday, my last Self Introduction lesson, my last birthday in Japan. Even with all these minor farewells the imposing fact of my imminent departure seems to evade my mind, meaning that I’m not all that worried about leaving. No doubt I’ll cast a furtive look back as I enter the plane at Tokyo in six (no wait, three) months time but from where I sit now it’s hard to see much I’ll think of during the inevitable fits of manic tears after I return home. I don’t want this entry to veer into my own un-publishable territory but there’s little of my current day-to-day situation that I’ll miss with much enthusiasm. There’s the obvious apprehension that precedes any life change, but so far it hasn’t overwhelmed my current disposition of pleasant oblivion. By that I suppose I mean that I’m not really anywhere, mentally, at the moment. My daily life consists of appearances, being at a certain place at a certain time like a soap star’s supermarket opening schedule. I imagine the job satisfaction is of a comparable level also.

Still, I owe it to my future self, as disease ridden and incontinent as he may be, to make the best of the time yet available. Hannah and I are in the planning stages of a trip to Okinawa where we shall dance on the ancient fields of victory, singing the American national anthem and raising the Stars and Stripes, adorned as we shall be in George W. Bush masks. Hannah has decided to stay for another year, a prudent decision based on the fact that I won’t be here, but will accompany me home for a fortnight’s holiday. It works for her; family reunion, much missed cockney bantering, and it works for me; a gentle learning curve and an excuse to do nothing for a while longer. Aside from these pleasant distractions, Mum and Dad are visiting at the moment. No doubt at this very moment of typing they find themselves in Narita airport surrounded by otakus and hentai. Assuming they emerge unsullied we’ll be meeting them in Fukuoka this weekend.

This brings me quite nicely onto my final paragraph, that being the one you, the reader, is reading right now; my wants. There are certainly more than a few activities I wish to avail myself of before I leave and this paragraph has been reserved for the purpose of listing them and perhaps expanding upon them by giving a few circumstantial causes of interest. First, and best connected to the last paragraph’s closing of Fukuoka, is a baseball match. At home, the television is often switched on and inevitably enough a baseball match will appear on its magic face once or twice a week. They look fun. There are balloons and big foam fingers, the kind my friend who had been to see Gladiators came to school with back in 97. I wish to buy a foam finger and if this means watching a bunch of eager Japanese and portly, has been Americans amble around randomly for a while then so be it. Unfortunately, my premature booking of this entire paragraph to list my desire was exactly that, premature, as I can’t at the moment think of anything else I actually want to do over here. Is this a case of having done everything of interest already, or has the blade of my imagination dulled itself against the thick armour of boredom? I know not. Either way, it is time to take my leave. Lunchtime approaches and I have some bitches to pimp, courtesy of GTA IV. Forsooth and away!

Goodbyes

2007-07-16T03:02:00.000-07:00

I’m feeling a bit down at the moment. A bit lonely. It’s that time of year again when the departing ALTs are, well, departing. Apartments are being packed and rumours are being spread, rumours about the newcomers. Apparently the new ALT in my town is called Ryan, an American chap with a Spanish heritage. He sounds interesting already!

The majority of the Yatsushiro ALTs, old and new(ish) alike are leaving, meaning we’ll be getting 7 or 8 new people in the city. I am reliably informed that out of these 7 or 8, 6 or 7 (ie all except one) are women. Not quite sure what to make of this at the moment, I don’t want to start prejudging people again. Most are American though and this is something I can comment on; I really wish there was more of a balance. In the vast majority of cases, Americans are as nice as any other people but I’d really like a bit of variety.

In my first year there was an Irish ALT, 2 Australians, 4 Canadians, 1 South African, 3 Americans and 3 of us Brits. This past year there were 2 Brits (me included), 3 Canadians, 1 South African, 1 Indian and 6 Americans (5 by the end of the year). I much preferred the mix during the first year, not that I disliked anyone this year. Well, not really. However, the few times I did go to Yats the concentration of not just Yanks but Californians (of the 6 I think 4 were from California somewhere) made me feel in the minority. An Englishman in New York if you will, although Yatsushiro is about as far from New York as that Welsh tramp wandering around Leeds.

There are a few people staying over from last year but only one other remains from when I first arrived. Of the others staying, two are cool and one is…a bit of a challenge but I shall persevere. If there’s one thing I mucked up this year it was the delicate Balance between girlfriend and friends, meaning that Hannah got too much of me and my friends were neglected. Not that I think they minded too much. Still, this year is another chance to even that out.

It’s a bit nerve-wracking though, especially getting a new ALT in my town. I sort of fell out of contact with Ellison this year, something I do regret, but hopefully this new chap will be as nice as the last guy. We shall see. Apparently he doesn’t speak any Japanese so that’s something we’ll have in common. He’s going to love that.

Tokyo

2007-07-03T01:13:00.000-07:00

I started writing a longwinded and rather boring summation of our trip to Tokyo before getting a reasonable way into it and realising it was both boring and rather longwinded. So, I decided to start again.

Tokyo in two words. Fucking Huge. Tokyo in another two words. But Good. It was like taking 5 microtrips to different cities all of which were fucking mental. Massive shopping centres? Yup. Huge TV built into the side of a building? Check. Déjà vu despite having never been there before (thanks to Lost In Translation)? Certainly. Tokyo is like a Monet floating in a swimming pool; you know it’s going to be expensive but you can’t help but jump in. The ward we were staying in, Asakusa, was perhaps comparable to Kumamoto city in size and scale. Perhaps. Perhaps Asakusa is bigger, we didn’t see all that much of it. However, 20 minutes train ride away is the frankly ridiculous Shibuya, whose massive skyscraping shopping centres go on forever. Probably not literally forever, but as near as makes no difference. It’s also home to the crossing made famous in the aforementioned film. It’s the one with the dinosaur on the building. The moving one. You know. Needless to say I walked across that crossing as many times as I could in the short time we were there, hoping for some cooky Bill Murray type to appear. He did not.

Shinjuku was where I’d stayed when I first arrived in Japan. It was home for 3 days. I was convinced it was the “hotel district” and that was it. As with so many things, I was completely wrong. It was fucking mental. There’s a chain over here called Don Quixote but it may as well be called “everything in the whole sodding world under one roof that has various stuffed toys hanging from it.” The Shinjuku branch was 6 floors of chaos; bloody minded, consumerist chaos. I loved it. To add some spice to the mix someone thought it’d be funny to have all of these 6 floors, containing such diverse goods as Doritos, flick knives and Rolex watches, rely on one checkout situated right at the very back of the first/ground floor. As I say, absolute chaos.

Akihabara is the otaku centre of the world, otaku here meaning geek. Although it’s been heavily romanticised in the western world don’t be fooled; your average otaku is a social freak that should be avoided at all costs. Hundreds of stores containing cartoon porn, people dressed as cartoons and cartoons you can control with a joystick are crammed into Akihabara’s main street. Next to those healthy signs of the coming apocalypse are dozens of electric stores selling everything from computers to wall fans to lengthy appendages that I was assured were not backscratchers.

Ometesando is the new Shibuya apparently; the fashion capital of Japan’s youth. It reminded me of Camden town. I’ve only ever been to Camden once and most of it was spent cowering in fear behind poor Hannah. Why are you looking at me Old Asian Lady? Why are you offering me overpriced Chinese food? Why are you offering it so loudly? This place was much nicer. Lovely backstreets filled with archetypal Japanese Goths, hobbling around on boots so stacked they were almost as tall as a normal person. Shops selling handmade socks for the price of a small French chateaux. Toy stores stocked to the brim with oddities and perversions, all aimed at the under-5 market. It was great.

Roppongi is Tokyo’s red light district. Restaurants and bars give way to brothels and “lingerie bars” on a street culminating in the largest phallus ever created; Tokyo Tower. We didn’t spend much time here, disturbed as we were by a 333 metre high metal…part. The shopping centre was nice though and it did contain the Konami headquarters. Worth a photo, that.

So yes, fun was had. We had a few nice meals and tried to forget about our medieval torture chamber of a hostel. The weather was good to us and the people, although completely oblivious to our presence, didn’t try to harm us. I had already planned a return visit before realising that a twenty foot high anime maid splashed across a banner offering to “serve” me had not registered as strange, and that I really should go home for a bit.

Face

2007-06-08T20:36:00.000-07:00

Facebook is great. No really, it’s great. Better than it’s aborted cousin Myspace, better than the transparent Bebo, better than the sterile laboratories of Friends Reunited. Facebook is great. Everyone is on it. People I’ve not seen or heard of in 10 years have repeatedly thrown friend requests in my face. People I never thought would use the internet as anything other than a research tool have signed up and populated their profile with pictures of wild abandon.

This ramble is basically to lend some explanation as to why I haven’t written here for coming on 3 months. Basically I’ve been on Facebook. See what I’ve done here? You already know why I’ve been on Facebook because I started the entry with reasons why it’s great! It’s like I know what you’re thinking!!

Also, not much has happened in the last 3 months. It’s a fact that I didn’t want to face. Nothing has happened. Nothing. Well, I’ve seen Hannah a lot and been to a few dos but that’s it. I’m not going to talk about school here as all I seem to do is complain and no one really cares anyway. Well, Mum doesn’t and I’m pretty sure she’s the only one reading this. How do I know she doesn’t?

She told me.

Moving on; yes, I’ve seen a lot of Hannah. I mean, I’ve seen her almost every weekend. See, I do know what you were thinking you cheeky boys. Trying to actually remember what we did during these times is difficult. We ate a lot. We may have talked a lot too. I know we went to the shops.

Other than doing things that I can’t remember I’ve been invited to a shocking total of 2 social engagements. More specifically, I’ve been to a total of 2 shocking social engagements. I may have been invited to more and then forgotten about the invites. These social engagements both took place in equally shocking locales; the beach and Kumamoto City.

Beach outings consist mainly of going to a beach and sitting on it. We were only partly successful in this endeavour, spending most of our time slightly adjacent to the beach so as not to get sand everywhere. I believe the term “Underpant Sahara” is appropriate for what we were trying to avoid. Most failed in this task. Among the numerous fun activities partaken were See Who Can Jump the Highest (me), See Who Can Wear A Borrowed Hat (me), See Who Can Wear The Most Yellow (me) and Let’s Trying Not To Catch Salmonella (me, joint first with Geoff). Also dodgeball.

The second outing did indeed take place in Kumamoto City. It was someone’s birthday I think, whatever. There were loads of people there I didn’t know and this scared poor Hannah and I senseless. Obviously I see people everyday that I don’t know on an intimate level but they are Japanese people and I content myself in the knowledge that they all want to know me. These people were different. They were cruel and unforgiving. Within one minute of meeting with their leader he had already asked for my name and age. I strained an answer from my puckered mouth and tried to hide my shame. His breeding was obviously atrocious.

After an exceedingly expensive meal that consisted of raw salmon and a pizza base lathered in egg yolk, an impromptu meeting was held in the middle of the street in order to decide where to go next. Hannah, obviously bored by everyone except me, was looking fractious so I suggested a nearby bar that made up for it’s lack of clean toilets by pricing its drinks in line with the economic environment of the 1930s. Of course, everyone agreed immediately. Some people may have gone somewhere else but all the important people stayed. By important I obviously mean important in the context we were in, not genuine decision makers or anything.

So yeah, it was OK after that. Hannah was obviously bored through and through but I persuaded her that the final club might be OK. After entering and discovering their wine was limited to “Red” or “White” our spirits fell somewhat. Then some stuff happened and we went home.

We’re off Tokyo next week though. That’ll be nice.

Evidence

2007-04-10T02:41:00.000-07:00

I really did go to Kyoto. Here's the proof.

Kyoto Station. Bloody massive.

Shinkansen. Not ours of course, ours was much better

A temple. I think this was the entrance to the Inari shrine.

This was the real meat of Inari, the thousands of tori gates. Marvo

More later.

Trip

2007-04-03T04:21:00.000-07:00

Kyoto then. I’d been once before but was so tired after the completely pointless Kobe recontracting conference that I’d just attended that I didn’t really get to see much of it. This time however Hannah and me had 4 days to explore. As Hannah had also been before and had in fact managed to make it out of her hostel without keeling over we had a pretty good idea of where to go and what to do.

Obviously there was a lot of temple hopping, Kyoto having something of a temple surplus. There was the famous Golden Pavilion (a wee bit tacky if you ask me) and the less well-known and inaccurately named Silver Pavilion (much nicer and probably my favourite). There was the precariously balanced Kiyomizu shrine replete with the rudest people in all of Japan. Inari shrine also resides with the city, along with its thousands and thousands of corporate sponsored Tori gates.

Just outside the city proper is Nara, which was apparently the first capital of Japan. Most of Nara seemed to consist of a park full of deer and tourists that also contained the world’s largest wooden building which itself houses the world’s largest upright Buddha. That’s a lot of the world’s largest stuff. The building was big, the Buddha was fucking huge. For a Buddha.

Then there was the city itself. Kyoto is a long, long (looooooooooooooooong) way from Kumamoto and I’m not just talking about miles and kilometres. If Kumamoto is to be considered the Slough or Wigan of Japan then Kyoto is surely its Manchester or Leeds. I’d say York but that quiet, historic town has nothing on Kyoto’s vibrant people and outstanding nightlife. It’s an amazing place. For what was possibly the first time in almost a year, I felt like I was somewhere that was fun, somewhere that mattered. It felt familiar. I was constantly reminded of my time in Leeds, up to now possibly the most content I’ve ever been (well, the first two years anyway). We weren’t being stared at or commented on (well, actually we were but nowhere near as much as in Kumamoto). I didn’t feel like an alien. People didn’t feel the need to comment on my clothes as I walked down the street, nor stop and giggle at the sight of someone who wasn’t from Japan. It was like having a weight lifted from my shoulders.

I realised that all my opinions of Japan, of its people, its rules, the way things are run, are not in fact indicative of Japan as a whole. In fact, my views and opinions are probably completely erroneous. Kyoto proved to me that Japan is more than the farmers and convenience store workers of Kagami, more than the salarymen of Kumamoto city, more than the teenagers on the tram taking sly pictures of the gaijin with their phones. Although we still got a few comments and the odd glance, the whole experience made Kumamoto look like a racist Nazi state in my mind. Needless to say I dreaded going home.

But home I am, if you can call it that. My recent exploratory venture into interior design has made my apartment feel a bit more homely, especially thanks to Hannah’s birthday present, but the town of Kagami itself is, I think, about as far away from being a homely place as anywhere I’ve ever been. I’ve taken to calling it a ‘place’ rather than a ‘town’ because, well…that’s what it is. It’s a place for farmers to live when they come home from the fields. The only reason there are two high schools here is because it’s situated exactly between Yatsushiro and Kumamoto and even then no one wants their kids to go to school here.

Still, I had a great time in Kyoto. It was exactly what I needed at exactly the right time. Next stop, Tokyo.

Snap

2007-03-22T00:53:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a national holiday so I got the day off. Yay! I was a bit bored so I set out with my camera to get some shots of Kagami, my hometown. Of course, I waited until the light started to fade so I could really capture that “I can’t see what’s happening in that photo” look. To remedy this, I cracked out a little program I downloaded and had a fiddle with some of the shots. So here it is, presenting:

“The Kagami Urban Kollection.”
Hardcore: To the Max!

Class

2007-03-20T03:41:00.000-07:00

My first Japanese lesson was last night. It went well. It was enjoyable even, something I thought impossible after years of state-funded education had convinced me that anything resembling the act of learning was both dull and pointless. The lesson itself consisted of trying to ascertain what level of Japanese I actually possessed, a more difficult task than you may imagine. I’ve been living in this country for almost 2 years now so I’ve obviously picked up a reasonable amount of vocab in that time. During the long, long summer holiday of 06 I also attempted a few weeks of self study which enlightened me as to some of the grammatical elements of Japanese. However, I didn’t really know how much I’d retained or indeed how much I’d even learnt.

I would class myself as a beginner but I surprised myself with how many words I actually knew, thinking as I did that 0 probably would have been an accurate count. I knew more than 0. This is good. I found myself getting a bit flustered when I was asked questions orally, questions I knew I knew the answer to. Still, I felt I came away with something which is always nice.

Lessons are almost over for this semester. Hikawa have already finished and yatsuno will go the same way next week. This means that, although I still have to go to school during the next few weeks, I won’t have any lessons. This is both good, and bad. Good because I get paid to do nothing. Nothing is expected of me and I am happy to fulfil those expectations. However, not having anything to do and doing nothing are quite different. Doing nothing is a sure-fire way to make every day drag on until it seems like a month. Doing nothing also the best way to get headache, staring at empty computer screens waiting for the bell to ring. It’s frustrating. Luckily this period will be broken up by Hannah and I’s trip to Kyoto from the 28^th so at least I get a proper break this time round.

Spring

2007-03-15T06:19:00.000-07:00

The spring break is rapidly approaching. Two (or three in the case of one of my schools) weeks of no lessons even less responsibility. Good shit.

Me and Hannah are heading to Kyoto for a bit in just over a fortnight which cannot come soon enough. Although school life has been pleasantly free of the annoying incidents I once associated with it, I can’t say it won’t be a relief to get out of Kagami. Oh yes.

Also, I’ve decided to get Japanese lessons. This after a mere 1 year and 8 months in the country. I did have the occasional stab at self-study but, with local ALTs having great Japanese and most of my Japanese teachers having great English, the motivation wasn’t really there. However, looking at Hannah whose level is quiet unbelievable after only 8 months of lessons has inspired me. I haven’t deluded myself into thinking I can progress and rapidly as her, this is her third language after all, but it has convinced me that it isn’t too late to start.

Shanghai

2007-03-14T04:31:00.000-07:00

The last stop on our tour and the most highly recommended of the cities, we were both looking forward to Shanghai. It was good. We both enjoyed it. Unfortunately the rain, which had mercifully let us be so far, decided to pay a visit. The first day we arrived in Shanghai was nice, not too cold and very clear. Thankfully we chose to go to the Bund to have a look at the budding Shangai riverside. This is the iconic set of highrises and the odd looking Oriental Pearl Tower that have come to symbolise the city. It was a lovely view and, save me getting a load of candy apple shite all over my coat, it was nice. As I say, it’s a good job we got to see that view the first day as for the rest of our stay the whole area was covered in low hanging clouds and fog, rendering the buildings across the water almost invisible. Oh well.

There were still some interesting sights though, The Oriental pearl tower was resplendant in its garishness, especially when placed next to the Jin Mao tower, the 4th tallest building in the world and possibly the most entrancing building I've ever seen. Seriously, it looked like something a comic book super-villain would reside in. It was magnificent.

Unfortunately, we found that most of the infamous street markets of Shanghai, full of dirt cheap brand-name clothing and some of the city’s main attractions, had been closed down, no doubt due to international pressure. No cheap Gucci for you. The Friendship store, a shop opened by the British to supply expats during the Empire, which was still operating according to the Lonely Planet, had also been demolished to make way for a hotel. Because you know, there aren’t enough of those in Shanghai.

We ate out a lot mainly because the food was so good and so cheap. Thanks to the ever-present Lonely Planet in Hannah’s bag, we were able to search out the finest the city had to offer. This included a lovely health food place that we went to twice and a vegetarian place whose tofu dishes were textured and flavoured meat imitations. It was actually unbelievable to me that some of the dishes weren’t meat; the breaded chicken tofu was, in almost every way, exactly the same as actual breaded chicken (minus the fat and gristle).

Also, I got a haircut.

Other adventures led to us encountering the famed People's Park English Corner, a gathering of which we were blissfully unaware. Basically all the English speakers in Shanghai (or so it seemed) decended on the area known as People Park every Sunday to practice English. Into this we stumbled. Having been warned to run screaming from anyone approaching us and speaking English it was probably best that the first thing they said to us was "Don't be afraid." It was rather surreal.

Soon we were talking about every topic under the sun. Of particular note was the question of Japanese people. One man, pictured below with me and Hannah, had been coming to the corner for 60 odd years and told us the fascinating story of how he and his English teacher were seperated during the Japanese occupation of China and reunited several years later. The general opinion was that the Japanese were stuck up and unfriendly and generally disliked. Hmm.

Shanghai is probably the only place I’d go back to. Beijing was good but now that the sites have been seen, it offers little incentive to return. Xi’an probably ended up being our favourite city but is so far away that we’d need a reason to go back. Shanghai is an hour and a half’s flight away from Fukuoka and a great place.

The Oriental Pearl. Wouldn't look out of place in Blackpool. Speaking of which...

Look what I found. At the top of one of China's landmark buildings, Blackpool reigns supreme!

Oriental Pearl on the left, Jin Mao in the middle (it's much further back the the rest of the buildings)

Jin Mao Tower. Just...look at it!

It was pretty tall too.

Xi'an

2007-03-13T04:54:00.000-07:00

Xi’an, the even more ancient capitol of China was our second stop. After a relatively easy flight we arrived at the airport and were picked up by a happy little chap the hostel had sent. Driving through the ramshackle “towns” we began to become less and less convinced that coming to Xi’an had been a good idea. The mist had settled and the places we were passing through were supremely depressing (think the endless concrete high-rises of the Eastern Bloc). But then, low and behold, the famous Bell Tower emerged and we had arrived at what would arguably be the most enjoyable city we would visited.

Xi’an is interesting because it lies in the centre of China on the border between the Buddhist section and the Muslim section. Because of this, there is an extremely active Muslim Quarter just down the road from where we were staying and after we’d got settled (lovely room, absolutely perfect position) we went for a visit. For the first time in one and a half years I had a donner kebab. It wasn’t even intentional, I simply liked the smell of what some woman was cooking on the street and asked for one. It cost me 1 RMB (about 6p) and it was lovely. Unfortunately I couldn’t find this lady again, nor did anyone else seem to be making them. Sad face.

The rest of the street was equally as interesting, although poor Hannah didn’t find much to eat as most of it was lamb. The fried figs were nice though and the candied fruit sold in the candied fruit market was unbelievable. It was like being in Charlie’s Chocolate Factory if Wonka had preferred a nice bit of pineapple to a Mars Bar. There was also, strangely enough, a shop dedicated entirely to video game collectables. Poor Hannah indeed.

On the second day we set out to find what we had actually come to see; the Terracotta Warriors. This, one of the modern wonders of the world, had been highly recommended from all quarters and was probably the sight I was looking forward to the most. To get to it we took a local bus (12 RMB, just less than a quid, for the hour ride) and were dumped on the edge of a vast car park. We started to walk. It had been snowing that morning and raining the evening before so the ground was awash with slush. Little did I know that my shoes had holes to rival those in a Columbine student’s chest. By the time we’d walked through the hideously abandoned “Tourist Village” I couldn’t feel my feet. It was freezing. It was actually well below freezing if you’re counting (about minus 4 or so) and this did not put me in a good mood. Still, I shook myself out of it and convinced myself the sight of 6000 terracotta warriors in perfect battle formation would cheer me up.

So we finally, finally got to the excavation pits. They were covered over with aircraft hangar-like structures and surrounded by various dull looking concrete exhibition buildings. With the thick mist and layer of snow it really did look abandoned and rather depressing. Anyway, we’d been advised by someone in the Beijing hostel to work backwards, go from pit 3 to 2 to 1 as they increase in size and quality in that order. So, we skipped the first two and headed to Pit 3. It was OK, a rather small area containing 68 soldiers, or so we were told. Nice. Next was pit 2 and the sheer size of the building housing it meant that it couldn’t possibly be disappointing. Indeed, as I neared the perimeter wall enclosing he pit I averted my eyes for a moment, preparing them for the amazing scene below me…

It was indeed big. Huge infact. Massive one might say. One might also describe it as “soldier-less.” Not a single intact warrior stood in the massive hole before me. It was profoundly disappointing. I had expected row on row of pristine terracotta warriors ready for war but all I got was some ancient timber and shattered pottery barely distinguishable from the earth it lay in. Over to the side there were several soldiers on display in glass boxes but these were merely a distraction.

So, with a sinking heart, we made for Pit 1; the big one, the one in which over 6000 soldiers were supposedly discovered. Again, like Pit 3 it was nice…but that was it. There were soldiers here, maybe a few hundred, but nowhere near the figures so often banded about. A sign reliably informed us that most of the soldiers had been destroyed during the Japanese occupation of China or moved into an onsite exhibition centre, which was of course, closed. Considering the conditions we’d seen and the time we’d taken to get there, it was a bit of a disappointment.

Still, the city itself sticks in my mind as the most enjoyable of the places we visited. Vibrant, colourful and a million miles from the quiet Japanese settlement I call home, it was like being back in Leeds. An Oriental Leeds.

(This is the soldier-less Pit 2 by the by. See?)

Beijing

2007-03-09T17:48:00.000-08:00

"Is it me or does this place smell of ass?”

Ah, Beijing, ancient capitol of an ancient race with tourists coming from all corners of The Almighty’s globe to wonder at her Forbidden City, Mao’s Tianamen Square and the Great Wall of China. City of history, city of the Olympics, city of smells. This last quality led to the rather amusing quote above, as spoken by a random American at the Summer Palace. Even though Hannah and me were in the middle of a small fracas, we couldn’t help but laugh (or at least Hannah couldn’t, I misheard it and though someone was taking the piss out of my hat. You’ll see why in the pictures). The smell of human excrement wafted amongst the shanty-town hutongs and mixed with the smells of barbequing lamb and baking bread. It really was quite a smell.

Beyond the smell were the sights. As our hostel was but an aborted female baby’s throw from Tiananmen, we started there. It’s a square. It is big. Not much else to say really apart from the fact that it was swarming with hawkers trying to sell all sorts of tat (Chairman Mao’s Little Red Book, Chairman Mao watches, Chairman Mao scarves, Chairman Mao’s Little Book of Loving etc etc). Some even went so far as to impart art student personas upon themselves and try and force us to go to “Art Exhibitions” where, according to Lonely Planet we weren’t so tired as to follow them, they try to sell you hugely overpriced “art”. These people did not leave us alone for the majority of the trip, so much so that I made several friends; Buy Now, Real Cheap and Fuck You.

The highlights in Beijing were the Great Wall and the Summer Palace. The Forbidden City was nice, but there are only so many temples and halls one can take. The Summer Palace is exactly what it sounds like; a retreat for fat Emperors hoping the summer air would aid erection. As we went in winter, the huge manmade lake in the centre of it all was completely frozen over with lots of mad Chinese skating around on it like so many lobotomised ice skating people.

The Great Wall, or at least the section we visited, was an hour’s drive from the city. Rather than taking one of the extortionate tours (280 RMB=nearly £20) we got there by ourselves using the extreme cunning we had developed from avoiding Beijing’s infestations of art students. In the end, it cost us 7 RMB each way (about 50p). Once there, we were suitably impressed. Several times while walking along the 15km long section I would stare out at the scenery, imagining a Mongol hoard screaming through the bracken in a bloodlust. In fact, the only Mongolians present were the ones avidly trying to sell me pashminas. After trekking more than the 15km (the entrance was in the middle of the section, forcing us to retrace our steps if we wanted to see the other end) we were absolutely knackered, the cold had numbed and blistered my lips and we wanted to go home.

This was probably my one real experience with bartering. I had seen a lot of Chinese people wearing rather spiffy greatcoats and decided I wanted in on the action. Sure enough, several of the tourist stalls were selling them. The first person I enquired with gave us a price of 150 RMB (£10) but worked herself down to 80 as we walked off. The second offered us an initial price of 580 RMB (well over £40) and I must say I stood a little gobsmacked. She insisted that the other vendor must have said $80. Bollocks. Anyway, there was no way I was going to pay that must for a coat worth less than my dodgy hat so we made to leave. The lady in the store wasn’t having it. After several minutes bartering, and several actual attempts to leave by myself, we got her down to 130 RMB, just less than a tenner. So I said OK and felt rather proud of my bartering skills. Of course, I should have been watching her more closely as she put it into a bag. When we got home we realised she’d swapped the perfectly serviceable coat I’d tried on with one who’s buttons were so mismatched as to make it basically unwearable. The cow.

Ni Hao.

2006-12-20T00:08:00.000-08:00

Well, it’s that time of year again! Time that I bid you my festive farewells before I bugger off to somewhere untouched by the gentle fingers of Yuletide joy. Sort of, it appears the hostel we are staying in for Xmas is doing a load of stuff, parties and the like, on Christmas day so I still get to enjoy the season.

Just a quick bye bye this time as I have to get packed and head down to Hannah’s in preparation for an early start tomorrow but rest assured that I miss everyone back home and really do wish you the best possible Christmas and the happiest of Happy New Years. Let not the Golden Ball go empty, my friends!

I shall leave you with this; my entry into a recent “Favourite Christmas Memory” survey/competition thing:

Picture the scene, if you will. The year is 1998, the Millennium minus 2. December. The wind is blowing icicle chills through anyone caught outside, as it carries the faint tinkle of Christmas songs through the air. On the horizon the low bulk of a concrete shopping centre stands firm against the chill, the water cascading from its roof in a steady stream of wet ice.

Inside is a different story. Instead of icicles here is tinsel instead; no wind, but smells of mince pies and mulled wine drift sleepily. Shoppers go about their business with the hushed fervour that signifies the Shopping Days to Christmas are almost no more. Lone fathers prowl the toy stores searching manically for this Season’s must have, mothers drag resisting children by the hand and old couples wander peacefully, gazing at the chaos that engulfs them.

Surrounded by this whirling maelstrom of consumerism stand a bold group, a dozen souls or so strong. Their stony silence and grim faced determination soon begins to spread, the crowd slowing its progress as the people turn their faces, reddened by the cold and the free brandy outside Superdrug, towards the small, tastefully shod ensemble.

Suddenly, a flash of light, a glint of metal; the group explodes in a flurry of activity. The crowd stand motionless, mouths agape as all of a sudden…music fills the air. A trumpet soars into the high octaves, the tuba and euphonium ring out a rhythm as regular as a clock, the flutes patter the air with high pitched staccato and the trombone roars combine the sounds into one, harmonic whole.

…

Five minutes later, two of them have fainted from lack of breath and the old couple, rather obviously drunk off their deerstalkers, won’t stop requesting Bing Crosby. The small group are paid in doughnuts from the local Burtons and as they wander back to the High School with rapidly developing colds, escape plans are drawn...

Or something like that. My high school band used to play in the local shopping centre every Christmas and I’ll always remember those days as some of the best I ever had there. Not only would we get a whole half-day off school, we would indeed get free (or at least reduced) doughnuts and pastry from the Burtons we’d set up outside of and the crowds we’d attract would often get intimidatingly large. So, more of an occasion than a memory. However, my favourite time of all was when my brother, at this point on the Alto Sax, did actually pass out from lack of breath. I got to go home early! At high school!

Best. Day. Ever.

2006-11-20T01:24:00.000-08:00

The last entry I wrote was a very angry one. Very angry indeed. It had to do with hospitals and bureaucracy. I decided not to post it because hospitals and bureaucracy are no-one’s favourite talking points. Except the Minister for Hospitals and Bureaucracy, and even then only during working hours.

So…it’s almost Christmas. This makes me very happy for as people may or may not know, I love Christmas. Really, I love Christmas. There seems to be an atmosphere in the air roundabout Christmastime, an atmosphere that tells us to forget all the bad stuff, look! Fairy lights! It’s like getting a great big hug for 4 weeks, only less awkward. It’s great.

However, I still have a deep down feeling that putting up Christmas decorations or listening to Christmas songs before December is…wrong. Sacrilegious almost. We tried it, Hannah and me, this weekend. I had once again gotten all excited that Christmas was just around the corner and I had gotten a craving for mince pies (eating Christmassy things outside of December is perfectly natural). So, with a conspicuous lack of any cowless mince, we decided to make our own. We asked Delia, for she always seems to know what to do. Via the magic telephonyjigger of the intraweb, Delia told us how to make the festive pie filling we desired. So, we bought the ingredients and went about making the mince.

My laptop and it’s endless library of hearty songs was but metres away from the newly Christened “Cookorama” section of my lowly apartment, so I thought it’d set the mood nicely if we listened to some festive tunes. I loaded up “The Best Christmas Album in the World…Ever!”, skipping the “traditional” CD and booting up Elton John stepping into Christmas.

It felt wrong. I must admit I felt violated. There we were, November the 18^th, listening to modern Christmas songs. I felt as if I’d raided the stable, lifted the infant Christ from his manger and slapped him about the face with a copy of Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll Christmas.” So, we turned it off and settled for some more generic tunes. And lo, it was good.

Unfortunately we didn’t have any brandy for the mince so we used Japanese shochu. It looks a bit runny too. I’m hoping that it’ll look nicer after the one week standing time Delia commanded us to allow. Don’t fail me Delia.

I’m also considering Christmas decorations. Last year I did my best, and turned my living room into a little grotto. This year I am determined to outdo last year’s effort and this will probably involve buying more fairy lights and various other tat. Among the items under consideration are a life-size dancing Santa whose cold, lifeless eyes stare into the void as the swollen body below gyrates mechanically to a terrible rendition of “Jingle Bells” emanating from its groin; an inflatable snowglobe that’s approximately 6 foot high by 4 foot wide and quiet big enough to fit two fully grown adults in it’s glorious plastic tableau, and a statue of Rudolph made entirely of neon. Truly, I am blessed with choice.

Finally there’s the China holiday. I’m perhaps looking forward to this the most. Since the final year of Uni, me and Hannah have been plotting to go away somewhere together but unfortunately nothing has ever materialised. Now however, our deposits are paid, most of our flights are booked and there’s only the accommodation and visas to sort out. Apparently it’s going to be about –7 in Beijing so at least we won’t feel cold when we return.

Bombed

2006-11-08T01:34:00.000-08:00

Well, I’m not sure quite what inspired that little rant down there. I still agree with most of it, but I do appear to have been in something of a bad frame of mind there. Anyway, what have I been up to recently I hear you ask? Well, I’ll tell you. Last weekend was a long one so me and Hannah decided to take a little trip down to Kagoshima, the Satsuma state and home of the appropriately named Satsuma rebellion that was the inspiration for The Last Samurai. It was with fervent ambitions of finding some rogue samurai that we set out to the Kumamoto city bus centre. So, we arrive. All’s well, point us in the direction of the nearest coach-like object and we’re off.

Woah there! Not so fast! This is Japan, they don’t just let you go anywhere you know! Indeed, it turns out there are no buses to Kagoshima running from Kumamoto. There are no trains either, the reason we looked to busses in the first place, so it looks like tensions still abound. Someone should tell Kumamoto council that the rebellion happened 400 years ago and that they should probably provide some way of getting in to Kagoshima that doesn’t involve losing a thumb.

Anyway, what they did have plenty of were busses to Nagasaki so we duly hopped aboard (after buying return tickets) the nearest one. We were off. 3 fairly uneventful hours later and we arrive at Nagasaki station. It was over a year since I was here last, and unsurprisingly not much had changed. It’s not like anyone was going to drop a bomb on the place.After searching frantically for a hotel, we dumped our stuff and had a little explore. My favourite part of the city is still the Wharf, appropriately labelled “For International Tourists” on a nearby map. It’s a lovely little wooden decked area with restaurants and pubs overlooking the rather lovely harbour and neighbouring Mt Inasa with it’s garish observatory. More on that later.

We dived into the local sushi shop and devoured our own body weight in sushi and sake, all the while being oggled by the clearly drunken owner of the place. They were amazed when we ordered hot sake, and even more taken aback when we lacked the “Arigaaaahto’ mate!” accent of other foreigners. My Japanese may still be poor but by god can I pronounce the three words I do know.

We then did what every slightly inebriated foreigner does in Japan at night and headed for the nearest Karaoke bar. Now, Karaoke is different over here in the way that it’s not something that gets wheeled out in dodgy pubs when the jukebox breaks down, it’s actually a substitute for the whole pub. Karaoke parlours are numerous and varied, from themed locales to your more common chains, perhaps the biggest of which is Shidax. Now, I’d never been to a Shidax. In Yatsushiro we go to a little local one that appears to be a franchise. It’s fun and it’s cheap. We once spent 5 hours in there and ordered more drinks than I can remember and the bill came to about 1000 yen (£5) each. Naturally, I assumed Shidax would match this.

So, we bluster in and clumsily sign our names on a little sheet and get allocated a room for 2 hours. We wander in, spend 10 minutes figuring out how to work the machine and order our first drinks via the handy telephone on the wall. There’s a small mishap where Hannah basically yells, “Drinks please!” down the thing and hangs up, but eventually we get some fairly potent Kaluha milks delivered. We start singing.3 hours later we emerge from our den, ear ringing and hearts smiling. Lo, there was singing, and it was good. So, we bumble back to the front desk and ask for our bill. I look at the cash register as the amount comes in.

11000 yen.

Cue confused looks. My mouth may have drooped slightly.

11000 yen! In terms of pounds sterling that’s just shy of £60. For Karaoke! There’s nothing to do but pay it but we study the bill furiously once we get the receipt. The people behind the desk begin whispering as we walk away with our mouths still hanging. £60! It turns out that we made a grave error in assuming that we’d signed up for nomihodai, all you can drink, which is the default setting at my local. Instead, we’d been playing for all the drinks individually. They had not been cheap, and we had ordered a lot. It was probably our fault for not checking with them before we went in but it’ll be a long time before I step foot in a Shidax again.

Anyway, the next day we do the sights. The atomic bomb museum was unchanged from my last visit, what with atomic bomb incidents being down this year. The Peace Park and Peace Statue were still unintentionally hilarious (just look at the thing, it’s hideous!). The Spectacles Bridge was still suitably spectacle like, if not particularly spectacular. We went to a few temples I hadn’t been to before, and found a gigantic Buddha statue on the back of a turtle-like building. We finished the day with a trip up Mt Inasa to the aforementioned observatory. I still think it’s a fantastic view but Hannah was less impressed as you can see from the photos below.

On the final, day, we only had a few hours before our bus. We spent most of our time at the Confucian temple, the only example outside of China. The adjoining museum of China artefacts served only to further excite me about our trip there this Christmas. I really can’t wait.

So we got the bus home, and all was well. Actually no, we got caught in the inescapable web of Japanese bureaucracy when the driver of the bus took our tickets and forget all about it. We had to pay again. Still, this was one small (but incredibly, incredibly annoying) smear on an otherwise fantastic weekend.

I’ve stuck some photos down there of our trip. This’s what £600 worth of camera and £0 worth of talent will get you.

The Wharf. Look at all the pretty lights. You don’t pick that shit up with your £400 “cameras” I tell you.

It’s Hannah, and one of many photos I have of her taking photos.

Here’s another one. The girl just loves taking photos.

In a radical change of pace, Hannah decides not to take a photo. She doesn’t look happy about it though does she?

What a lovely picture. The city at dusk. Hannah, so used to not taking photos at this point, missed a lovely shot, don’t you think?

“Fucking Huge She-man Teaches Babies to Rock Out” Apparently it’s an extremely holy notion.

“…and I said to him: “If you think that’s impressive, you should see my cock!””
“……..”
“Walter?”
“Don’t touch me.”

The city at night. It’s a bit blurry because I couldn’t keep the camera still. Insert “tripod” joke here. Tee hee.

Hannah just after I won our 8mile-esque Rap Battle. Shortly after this she drop kicked a baby right off the mountain. Ironically enough, it landed just next to the atomic bomb hypocenter and yet caused only a fraction of the damage.

I could quite happily spend all day trying to write amusing captions for pictures, but this one speaks for itself does it not? Looking good my friend. Looking good.

Embittered

2006-10-25T02:21:00.000-07:00

I’ve got into a habit of writing these entries, forgetting about them and posting them up on the blog at almost the precise moment they lose relevancy. A bit like the UK government then. Maybe I should consider going in to politics, I’m lazy enough.

So, this is the entry where I pour great steaming heaps on disappointment on you all; I won’t be returning to Britain any time soon. I’ve decided that, because of my limited time here and the fact that when I return home Tony Blair is not going to let me (or anyone) leave those hallowed shores ever again, I should make the most of my time here. So, I’ll be heading off to China for 2 weeks, more specifically to Beijing, Shanghai and Xi’an (where all those terracotta solders are kept).

I know many will be thunderstruck by this news, and many others will simply not hear about it as this blog must now be reaching less people than Steve Irwin, but I’m afraid the rainy, scum ridden, expensive, US-pandering, freedom hating, racist streets of Britain were just edged out by the home of one of the most ancient civilisations on Earth and the many ridiculously cheap attractions contained therein. Sure it’s Communist, but after looking at today’s UK from a distance I’ve come to realise the Chinese could be a lot worse off.

You may have noticed from that last paragraph that I’ve become somewhat disenchanted with the country of my birth. Well, sort of. I really do recommend that everyone who reads this and who hasn’t done so already takes a few months off and lives in a country outside of Britain. Any country, it doesn’t matter. It changes your perception radically. While living in England, I knew that everything was more expensive here and that the government had long since stopped acting for the people. I knew that the British populace were often considered mean, rude and miserable by the international community (although I couldn’t see that at the time). But I thought of places in far off climes and said to myself…well, it could be worse.

Of course that all changed after about 2 weeks in Japan. Even now, when traditions I first thought were quaint have brought me to the brink of insanity, nothing here has made me pine for the grassy hills of home. I miss the people back in England, I really do, and as it’s coming up to Christmas I’ll miss the atmosphere of the place (but again, that’s mainly down to family and friends) but the country itself…I’m incredibly glad to be shot of the place, even if it is only temporary.

Possibly the aspect that gets my goat the most are the prices we pay. Japan is a country that was not built with humans in mind. 70% of the place is taken up with huge impassable mountains that only the most hardy of sheep would dare ascend. They have zero natural resources over here, none; they import it all. But still, the 120 million people they have here manage to get by. Not only get by, but also in most cases get by comfortably. This is probably because the price of consumables over here is reasonable. Not cheap, but reasonable. Compared to the prices infesting the UK though, they might as well be free. I don’t pretend to know all the politics behind it, why it is the UK government charges us 17.5% VAT while the Japanese government gets by on 5% consumer tax, but I know that I can get all the food I need for a week for £20. In Leeds that would barely last me 2 days. I know that my car insurance is not going to cost me as much as my house does every month, because some statistic from the 70s said that people under 25 can’t drive. I know that flights out of the country will not induce a 3-year saving plan. I know that my wage will not be cut in half by taxes to be spent on red tape and administration.

I could go on and on (and I have) but I’ll stop ranting now. As it is, I’m having a good old time over here at the moment, with a long weekend on the horizon and someone special to spend it with.

Next time: The 7 reasons I hate you and your family.

Scratch

2006-10-14T09:07:00.000-07:00

This one's a bit old but I thought I'd post it up anyway! More complaining ahoy!

I use this blog more as a virtual scratching post more than anything. I do apologise about that but, well, it is my blog.

Went to the Shaken place yesterday to see what was going on. They told me that the procedure would cost 90000 yen (about £450) which is oddly enough what I’d hoped for. Got to go back on Monday to actually get it done and find out what needs repairing. Apparently the repairs they might suggest are just that; suggestions. Apart from a few serious problems it’s entirely up to you whether you repair them or not.

Another fun meeting with one of my JTEs a few minutes ago. Yesterday we decided to embark on a new adventure. We decided that, for once, we would let the students think. I usually take my lesson plan topics for Oral Communication lessons from the text book the other teachers use when I am not in a lesson. Now these things are awful, terrible books that not only do not teach English but sometimes get it plain wrong. An example, from the current book:

“I have a dream of becoming a dentist.”

While grammatically correct (sort of) I would never, ever utter that phrase in conversation. “I dream of becoming a dentist” maybe, but that still sounds rather disjointed.

Now, the first few chapters of this book were easy to use as the themes of lesson plans; Holiday, directions, the telephone. But the 4^th chapter is titled “Would you like an extra blanket?” and is about…nothing. Well no, it’s actually about how to ask for an extra blanket and some more nuts on an airplane. So, I went to my teacher yesterday (about 10 minutes after I was supposed to be at my second school as the said teacher had disappeared for 40 minutes) and told her I couldn’t make a plan out of this chapter. So we decided to do more on the previous topic, the telephone. As far as I was concerned we had decided to, for once, let the kids actually use the English they’d “learnt” and spend the lesson constructing their own telephone conversations from the Key Phrases I’d given them the lesson before.

Today, she saunters up to me and asks to see the worksheet I’ve prepared for today’s lesson. “I’m sorry?” I stutter. “For the lesson today, did you make a worksheet?” I remind her that only the day before we had decided to let the kids work in groups this lesson, we had decided to let them use their brains. “But I thought you were going to make a worksheet for that?” I patiently explain that the Key Phrases are on the worksheet I did last week that the kids still have, and that we agreed yesterday that we’d suggest a few topics for the conversations on the board. Of course, this totally confuses her. “Well, their English level is very low…” Ignoring the fact that she’s now completely forgotten about yesterday’s conversation, I tell her that this sort of thing is what I used to do in French lessons, and my level of French was never much higher than “low”. Still she looks nonplussed.

Then she moves on to the two English 1 classes I have today. Why I have two is still beyond me, my original lesson plan made at the start of this term clearly states that on Wednesdays I should only have one. Never mind. She asks me if I have any ideas. No clarification on what topic or subject I should broach, just “Do you have any ideas?” No, no I don’t. I have never planned these lessons, that’s been left up to the JTEs. They haven’t been doing a very good job lately, most lessons end up in me playing cards with the students. I’m not entirely sure why the JTEs can’t organise these lessons considering all the lessons they do without me are taken straight from the terrible textbooks.

Then she asks if I have any activities involving the past tense. Oh yes, just let me find them… Grammar points are almost impossible to make into any activity that isn’t excruciatingly dull and luckily they usually leave the grammar stuff to the lessons not involving me. Not this time. She says we’ll discuss it in the period before the lesson, you know, when I’ve got all of 45 minutes to put something together.

I despair I really do. The Japanese education system, at least regarding English, has possibly the worst attitude towards the students that I’ve ever come across. They’re treated like unthinking drones incapable of retaining even the most basic knowledge. Any creative thought or input is actively discouraged. Learn this. Memorise this. Say this, then. “I’m fine, and you?” But to be honest, that’s exactly what my students are like. Whether this is due to the students themselves or the way they are treated from the very beginnings of their education is a distinction crying out for research.

Well, I just had the “thinking” class and amazingly enough it went very well. The students actually thought about what they were doing in their groups (well, most of them) and the conversations they came up with were actually pretty good. The atmosphere was really good too.

I suppose that answers the nature or nurture question I had before…

Kevin Carter

2006-09-20T05:21:00.000-07:00

Well, I paid enough for it so here are some pictures I took with my new fancy camera. They're not much good at the mo as I'm still getting the hang of the settings! Click for a bigger version (the bigger version were scaled down by me as blogger wouldn't accept them. The ones here are 25% of the original size!)
The Hikawa dam and resevoir, as seen on my way to work.

The village of Izumi, again close to one of my schools.

Who is this handsome beast eh?

Juxtaposition

2006-09-20T05:20:00.000-07:00

These last 2 weeks have been a mix of the really bad and the really good. Most of my time has been concerned with the really bad, but when has that ever not been the case?

I sent my car to the mechanics the week before last. They told me that they’d need to replace a few suspension bolts and that the price for said maintenance would be about 50000 yen (£250). It could’ve been worse. Cut to the weekend before last. I arrive at the mechanics and they tell me they’ve managed to fix it without replacing the parts. Great. The price is substantially cheaper; reasonable even. So, I drive away. 5 minutes later I’m back. The problem hasn’t been fixed at all, the noise is still there. After 30 minutes of mucking around they tell me the part will need to be replaced after all, but they can let me drive home as the problem isn’t serious. They will try and get rid of the noise temporarily. After 40 minutes, they come back and tell me that, actually, the noise is gone and unless it comes back I should be OK. Fine.

Cut to this weekend just gone. I had a lovely weekend with Hannah doing not much at all, and the stress of the last week was finally dissipating. The typhoon we had on Sunday had seemingly left my car untouched and I drove home on Tuesday morning after the bank holiday Monday. As I turn in to my parking space, a glint of light catches my eye. I am drawn to the windscreen where I find…a fucking huge crack. Seems the typhoon left me a little present…again. That’s two typhoons I’ve been through, and two car windows smashed. I go mental for about ten minutes before phoning in sick for work and driving back to the city I’d just come from to pay the Audi mechanics another visit.

Of course the whole front windscreen needs to be replaced. The good news is that they have a shipment of glass replacements arriving today, the 20^th. The bad news is it’s going to cost me £400. I am fucking livid. With the mandatory MOT type thing coming up next month and the repair costs for the suspension, this means I’ve spent about £50 shy of £1000 on my car in two months.

What pisses me off the most is that the cars I was parked next to during the typhoon were left completely unscratched. Nothing on them. But for some fucking reason my windscreen was cracked for the second time in a row under these conditions. I knew these few months would be expensive with the MOT and stuff but this is ridiculous. The car is turning into a money pit. What’s worse is that I know, just fucking know, that the suspension noise is going to come back, probably sooner rather than later. The MOT will no doubt spring a whole other spate of problems I need to get fixed on me and the cost of those, on top of the needlessly extortionate £450 it’s going to cost to get said MOT, is going to mean money, for the first time in almost a year and a half, is going to be a worry.

For a while after I discovered the cracked windscreen I was seriously considering getting the car repaired, getting the MOT and then selling it. To be honest, I still am. The guy who had it before said he had no problems with it (and I believe him, I still know him and he’s a very honest chap) but me, as soon as I buy the fucker, am overloaded with the things. I know for a fact one of the ALTs in the city is getting a new car so his K car (small car with an engine of 660cc) will be going cheap, if not for free. It’s very very tempting. I think I’ll see how the MOT goes. If the results are bad then I may have to sell up.

Bugger

2006-09-20T05:18:00.000-07:00

Oh dear. My car’s gone a bit buggered, like. I drove down to Hannah’s on Sunday and the mysterious creaking I’d heard coming from the front left wheel changed into a sort of grinding, squealing noise. Obviously this made me a bit nervous. Once I’d gotten to the city I decided that I didn’t want to risk further damage (to myself or the car) and left it at Hannah’s apartment, getting the train and tram home and resolving to walk to work for the next week. Hopefully Froilan (a 4^th year who moved to Kumamoto city from Yatsushiro) will help me take it to the Audi dealership in the city sometime this weekend. I’m just praying it’s not going to cost too much L

At the moment there are several money sapping prospects running through my mind. First up is the mandatory; shaken for my car. This is a sort of MOT that must be done every two years and for white plates (aka bigger cars like mine) it can cost anywhere from 90 – 160 000 yen (£400 – 800). Apparently one of the Yats ALTs known a mechanic so hopefully my costs will be on the lower end of that scale.

Then there’s the…ahem…luxury stuff. It’s over a week since I ordered the new camera from the Itos. Now, I don’t regret ordering the camera but it is quite a lot of money (link ) and when I ordered it I didn’t know that I’d have potential car repair costs hanging over my head (no excuse about the shaken though, I knew that was coming).

Well, it’s too late to retract the order (even if I wanted to, and I don’t really) so hopefully the car is not going to cost too much to fix. Hmm.

...

2006-08-30T18:47:00.000-07:00

God dammit. It’s my first day back at work, a day on which I have been told several times, once before the holidays and once again this morning, that there would be no lessons. But they’ve found one for me from fucking somewhere. It’s not a lesson that’s on my regular timetable for Mondays so it’s not just a case of the exams today finishing early. It appears that one of the JTEs has had one of her lessons for tomorrow brought forward to today, a lesson which I would not usually participate in, but she’s decided to rope me in to it anyway. I cannot express how annoying this is, I really can’t.

It’s the look they give you when you tell them you were under the impression there would be no lessons today. They look as if you’ve just told them you smear shit on yourself and go by the name Lord Pooface of Stevenson at the weekends; one of complete incomprehension. They can’t grasp, even though I’ve been told today that I have no lesson, that one appearing out of nowhere should be a surprise. And the gap they gave me between telling about the lesson and the lesson itself? 10 minutes. For God’s sake. It’s my first lesson in almost 2 months as well. I’d been building myself up to go to the lesson tomorrow; I was a bit nervous as it’s been so long. Of course, all that’s been thrown to the wind now. 10 fucking minutes notice. God dammit I’m pissed off. I’m not even needed! It’s a plain old boring repeat after the teacher lesson that is simple for both teacher and student. But for some reason in 5 minutes time I’ve got to get up in front of a class and pretend I’m happy to be teaching them. This had better be a one off…

Over

2006-08-30T18:46:00.000-07:00

The holiday’s are over it seems. My actual holiday, the last week, have been Ok. I decided to go to a few places on Kyushu, Kagoshima and Fukuoka mainly, and my trips were nice. It was quite odd going on holiday alone, the first time I’ve ever done so, and I must say that I prefer travelling with others. Not that I was lonely, but there’s only so long you can go without having anyone to talk to.

I decided to invest in a new camera too. I figured I’d treat myself as I hadn’t really spent any money on the trips (or at least no serious amounts of money) so I opted for the new Canon Digital SLR (one of the big chunky ones for the uninitiated, as I was last week). Through the local host family, who own a camera shop, I was able to order it for a great deal less than the street price and I’ll get it two days before it’s officially released on the 8^th. Score. I’ll put up any and all photos I take that are any good. Not many then.

Let’s see, what else has happened? Well I’ve met the new guys properly. They’re all great as far as I can see. Lien (or Lynne as she prefers) is very lively and happy and easy to talk to. The married couple are cool too, Nathan being the more talkative of the two. Rachael is possibly the quietest person I’ve ever met but she’s lovely. There’s a few I haven’t met yet, Carlo down in Toyo village and Geoffrey and Aashima who are in Yats. I’ve heard various things about them all, ranging from the good to the not so good. We’ll see.

As lovely as they are, it seems that none of them are really party people. I didn’t expect them all to be Shaun Ryder’s but they don’t really seem the sort of people who will join you for a casual drink on a Saturday night. I could be wrong, and I hope I am, it’s still very much a hectic period for all of them, but as nice as they all are they don’t seem to be that sort of people. And that’s fine, they obviously came to Japan for other, perhaps more admirable reason than to go out drinking with other gaijins but it does make me realise how much I miss the old guys and the fun I was having this time last year.

Shakesy

2006-07-26T01:43:00.000-07:00

It’s gotten hot. Oh yes, very much so. And quickly too. Yesterday I had forgotten the power lead to the laptop and as compiling the lovely picture blog below had taken so much out of it, I needed to return home and collect said piece of wire. Unfortunately, my car was running rather low on petrol at that point. So, I decided to walk. It didn’t look too rainy outside, indeed some of the clouds were shifting to reveal actual sunlight. Of course, by the time I’d stepped out all of the clouds were gone and the temperature and humidity had shot through the roof. The 10 minute walk left me covered in sweat and extremely uncomfortable. Urgh.

Another slow day today so far. It’s not been so bad actually as learning Japanese has turned out to be, gasp, interesting. Difficult sure, but interesting. I’m also trying to keep my hand in with the whole writing thing. I’m doing a sort of autobiographical doohicky at the mo, one that I’ve been dabbling in and out of for a while now. It’s OK I suppose, a nice way to cross nostalgia with creativity, or at least what small amount of creativity I now possess, my mind having been dulled by sushi and green tea. It’s a sort of seat of the pants thing (in method rather than subject) as I’m just writing stuff down and sorting out little things like continuity and temporal order later. I’ve got sort of a flashback thing going at the moment and it actually seems to work. Tense has been something of a problem but I solved that by writing everything in the first-person present perfect. I am rather anxious to see what an independent observer would think of it, yet am too embarrassed to share. Damn my vanity.

It's also nice to know that people are still reading this blog, all two of you. Yay!

A Day In The Life

2006-07-25T03:44:00.000-07:00

I’ve been wanting to do a photo blog for a while now but have always forgotten to take my camera to work. Well, as everyone is far less busy now, thanks to the summer “holiday” I thought it might be an opportune time to walk everyone through my average day. Strap yourselves in, it’s a wild, wild ride (click on the images for larger versions):

I usually wake up at about 7.30 to be confronted with this. I made sure the camera didn’t catch most of the floor as I don’t want my mother to have a heart attack. Anyway, I usually check my emails in a bleary eyed way before forgetting to get ready and rushing about at the last minute. Interesting fact: there is a huge tapir just out of shot. His name is Marilyn.

This is my personal Life Support System. If I could have it fixed up intravenously I would. It’s also my clock; by the time the jug is full I know I’m probably 5 minutes late for work. Interesting fact; I stole that fridge from a tramp.

And this is how I get to work. A tragic waste of money spent on petrol, as my school is only a 15 minute walk away but I paid good money for Sally here and I may as well get my yen’s worth. Not sure why this picture is so foggy, it’s actually rather sunny today. Interesting fact: the yellow square on the floor is a designated spot for gay flogging.

My school. The first view I get of it as I arrive. It looks pretty rubbish here and again I don’t know why it looks so miserable. My amazing camera skills perhaps. Interesting fact: the bike shed pictured is made out of moles.

My desk. About as tidy as my apartment. That Tropicana bottle has been there for several months and I can’t even remember when I brought that thermo-flask thing in. Notice the stack of books on the left and realise that this is what I do for 85% of my time. Interesting fact: my desk has a border signifying it as British territory.

The staff room, or my view of it anyway. See? I’m not the only one with a messy desk. Interesting fact, there were 6 teachers in shot, but none of them came out in the photo. Spooky.

And this is what I plan to do with my summer. My Japanese is still pretty bad. I can understand a lot of what’s said, but actually constructing my own sentences is another thing. I thought the title was rather ironic so there’s the comedy aspect too. Interesting fact; most Japanese people learn Japanese from this book.

The inside. This is the main section of the staffroom block. I don’t actually do any teaching here as all the classrooms are either science, music or computer based. Interesting fact, a Shinto curse means the ghosts of naughty tapir regularly wander between the seating areas.

That’s better. The view of the second building from one of the connecting bridges. Interesting fact, pixies live in that tree, emerging only to hurl books and expletives at me.

The front of school. The 1st floor is the staff room and the ground floor is the school office. Doesn’t get much more exciting that that! Oh, and there’re palm trees too. Two of them. Interesting fact; there are no monkeys in this picture.

Ah, my labour of love. This is my rather pathetic World Cup English display looking forlorn and welting in the heat. Notice my amazing art skills that make the display difficult to read even for a native speaker. Also notice the large amounts of Japanese written by an English teacher so that the students knew what the hell I was on about. To be fair to myself, most of it has either fallen off or been taken down by this point but part of me just can’t bear to throw the rest of it away. Interesting fact; one student scrawled “Piss off home” across my first attempt.

Ah, teachers. I fooled them into posing for this by telling them I was dying, that’s why they look so happy. The one on the right is Kudo-sensei, my tantousha (supervisor) and the one on the left is, well I’m not entirely sure. I will call him Phillip. Hello Phillip! Interesting fact; Phillip is performing the ancient Japanese hand signal known as Ryoshomon. It indicates that this particular person hates Winston Churcill.

Half an hour into the day the laptop’s out and I’m playing Sonic 2 with the sound off. Interesting fact: Sonic 2 is regarded by many as the best English teaching tool ever created.

Two hours in and I’m watching hardcore porn with the sound on. I’ve pixellated the movie for those with sensitive dispositions. Interesting fact: I was once told to turn the sound up as the geography teacher couldn’t hear it.

Today, I read this book quite a lot. Lord knows how many times I’ve actually finished it, but it’s probably a few too many. It really is one of my favourite books of recent years, and I have no idea why. It reminds me of 6th Form College but by all accounts that should not be a good thing. Interesting fact; during 6th Form College I aged 4 times faster than normal. I am now 28.

This is how bored I am by 3.20pm; I made a calendar collage. As you can see, I have much more penned in for August than July. Most of those are holidays though. Interesting fact; the JET calendar is not given, but must be won in a gladiatorial arena type event.

This is the ceiling above my desk. I get paid quite a lot of money to stare at this spot for hours every day. Interesting fact; strip lighting was invented by the band Men Without Hats.

My desk has got progressively messier over the course of the day. I’m too bored to do anything about it at this point. Interesting fact: mumblemumble zzzzzzzzzzz…

This is the blurred picture of my foot my camera took as it fell from my unconscious fingers. Interesting fact; I was asleep for three hours.

All in all, one of my more eventfull days.

Endings

2006-07-20T00:42:00.000-07:00

Bloody rain. I thought the worse of the rainy season was over but it seems I was sorely mistaken. I don’t mind it all that much but our rescheduled paragliding session is coming up this Sunday and, once again, the rain threatens to derail it. Unfortunately the session we cancelled took place on a miraculously sunny day, one day after a torrential downpour. Hopefully some similar miracle will help us out this weekend.

One of the many things I’ve learnt over here; the Japanese love ceremonies. I deduced this fact almost a year ago when I attended three of the things on the same day but the almost fanatical devotion to these seemingly pointless sessions of monologuing continues. This morning was the closing ceremony of this term. It was indeed as dull as the countless others I’ve been made to sit through, but this one was sticky. Very sticky. The rain had combined with the heat radiating from, well certainly not the sun but from somewhere, and had created a sort of invisible treacle that swished around my head in place of oxygen. Urgh. It was horrible and towards the end I was anxiously tapping my foot and rolling my fingers over each other in anticipation for the final “Uwarimasu” and the slow trolling of the students back to their homerooms. This came after almost an hour of speeches and awards, all done in the characteristic monotone of formal ceremonies the world over.

In stark contrast to this was the swimming competition held yesterday. This was one of the few times I actually saw the students break out of their academic shells and enjoys themselves, and amazingly the teachers let them do it. It was great fun, even if I was just watching from the sidelines. It did seem a little pointless, but therein lies, thought I, the real reason behind it. It was pointless; nobody really won anything, the races were short and uneventful, but the students spent the better part of a whole day enjoying themselves. There were no speeches, no screeching teachers telling them to cut it out, no bowing in unison. No ceremony. This is the way the term should have ended, rather than in the overpowering smog of the gym to the drone of the kocho.

Sunny

2006-07-18T03:46:00.000-07:00

Went to the beach on Sunday. I haven’t been to the beach in years, I actually have trouble remembering the last time I did so. It was great though, the perfect way to spend such a lovely, albeit incredibly hot, day. There was much throwing of frisbess and losing of beach balls. In fact I think my overriding image of Faith now is her slowly chasing a beach ball as it gently drifts into the distance. The whole day was fun, but extremely tiring fun.

Yesterday morning I tried my hand at baseball in a sort of baseball driving range. Needless to say I was amazing. Well, not really but at least I managed to hit the balls hurtling towards me reasonably often. Buggered up my hands though.
As for yesterday afternoon, I sort of vegged out and watched a few downloaded movies. First up was Hellboy, a film I’d sort of seen before but wasn’t really watching. This time though, it was actually something of a disappointment. The premise was good, the cast seemed perfect, but there was something missing. Maybe it was the lacklustre acting or the terribly obvious wirework action scenes but it was nowhere near as good as it could or indeed should have been.
5 beer bottles out of 9 And 1 That’s Gone A Bit Warm.

Next was Superman. I’ve never really liked the Superman franchise; what’s the point in having the hero of the piece be completely invincible, vulnerable only to one rather contrived plot point (this is of course excluding the mid-90s televisual treat, The New Adventures of Superman which was great)? Needless to say I didn’t like this effort at all. The actors were miscast (especially the wishy-washy 23 year old Kate Bosworth as the supposedly hardened reporter Lois Lane) and, for the most part, were completely unremarkable. Brandon Routh, playing Kent/Superman, was completely charmless and utterly unsympathetic. Towards the end of the film, director Bryan Singer tries to make us feel sorry for this Man of Steel, something that even a helmsman as talented as he fails to pull off. He’s Superman! Who cares if he got beaten up, he can fly for Christssake!

The story too was rather pants and the one hope I held out for the film, Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor, was nowhere near as good as the trailers hinted he would be. In fact, his only passable scene is the “Lemme hear you say it.” dialogue revealed in even the earlier teasers. Perhaps the best word to describe him in this is “flat.” Granted it’s not him insomuch as it’s the scripts he’s given to work with but still, he does little with the few decent lines he has. The supporting cast are barely worth a mention, terrible as they are. They made little impression and served less purpose.
Good points? Well the one serious action scene of this (2 and a half hour) movie was the plane rescue and it was indeed impressive. Some critics have hailed it as the best bit of action since Lord of The Rings however, and I think this is a little off. Perhaps the main reason the scene stands out so much is that the rest of the film is desperately lacking in similar set pieces. There are a few more bits of action, a bank robbery, a scene where Superman gets his required comeuppance, but nothing else is even slightly remarkable.

The biggest flaw though had to be that the film took itself far, far too seriously. As far as I’ve heard and can remember, the original Superman films benefited from Christopher Reeve’s gift for comic timing; they were funny films in places. After all, the comics the films are based off are hardly crusty tomes of moral comment. But this movie was exactly that; it was almost religious in its message of self sacrifice and righteousness. This was offset by a man in his underwear flying around the planet and the two opposing images jarred me completely out of any cinematic experience that might have been there otherwise.

3 noses out of 10

Anyway, enough about that. Until next time.

The beach where we went. Yay.

Plans

2006-06-27T04:42:00.000-07:00

Another day another several thousand yen.

I’m in a surprisingly good mood at the moment, mainly because I’ve got quite a lot done in the past 24 hours. Yesterday we (me and Ellison) went to get my International Driver’s license (which expires at the end of June) changed into a Japanese license. I won’t bore you with the details suffice to say it took ages and involved hundreds of pointless questions about the British licensing system.

Today my only lesson has been cancelled which is good. I’ve also finally sorted out my GoLloyds application (so I can finally send money home), faxed the previous owner of my car all the updated documentation and completed several sets of exam questions for various people. And it’s not even 10 o’clock yet.

Having a three day week also helps. Had yesterday off and got Friday off due to the wonder that is choseibi. Bliss.

This weekend I’m supposed to be going paragliding off a volcano. Yay? It’s been a while since I’ve done anything unique to Japan and I think the volcano aspect means this probably belongs in that category. It’s only going to be about £45 as well for three actual descents; two from 45ft and a final one from 150ft down in to a valley. Hopefully I’ll be able to conquer my crippling fear of heights to do this. I’m actually really looking forward to it.

Then again, I may be jumping the gun (no pun). The rain recently has been amazing in its intensity. Yesterday, as we were driving to the city to sort the license out, I could hardly see three feet in front of the bonnet so strong was the downpour. And last night we had an incredible lightning storm. I’d gone to bed as soon as we’d got home (about 6pm) as I had a headache so I was wide awake at about 12 when the sky literally lit up like it was the middle of the day. And the thunder…I’ve never heard it that loud before. It was like being in one of those Hammer horror Dracula films; the thunder really did make a cracking sound like a movie sound effect. It was great. I tried to get the lightning on camera but it didn’t pick it up. Needless to say however, if this continues paragliding is off.

No idea what I’m going to do on Friday…I have the whole day to do as I please. I really should get out and about, take a drive somewhere in Kyushu, take a day trip to Fukuoka and do some shopping, but I’ll probably end up saving the money and staying home. Meh, I’ve got at least another 14 months to do the exciting stuff!

Arresting

2006-06-24T05:34:00.000-07:00

Oh, and if any of you (I'm assuming some people do still read this here) get the chance, go and watch/buy/rent Arrested Development. It's the funniest TV show I've seen in years...completely laugh out loud funny in fact.

"Lemme give that oatmeal some brown sugar!"

Rock

2006-06-24T05:21:00.000-07:00

I reached a bottom recently, one made from the title of this entry. This last week has possibly been the worst in terms of work since I got here almost a year ago. I haven't been overly busy or boringly underworked, it's just that my schools seemed to have forgotten that I don't speask Japanese.

I was told when I got out here that one of the main problems JETs report is that their schools don't tell them things. I already gave some examples below of what this has meant for me. But after I wrote that entry, it continued. One school (Hikawa again) rang me up at 6pm on Thursday and asked me for a piece of work we'd agreed on Wednesday that I'd present to them the next Tuesday. Seems they had forgotten that, and wanted the next day. Again, when I told them I hadn't done it there was this ominous silence on the other end of the line, like I just told them I'd killed a student. I really had to bite my tongue to stop myself going on a rant.

I also bit the bullet and said I'd try and get it to them tomorrow but I had exams to give all morning in my second school so I'd try and get it to them by lunch. No deal, they needed it by third period. Fine, so I say I'll try and get it in before third. However, it seems over the course of the 2 minute conversation they have changed their minds and need it NOW, not tomorrow but within the next ten minutes. I make several hand gestures that probably would have got me fired had I done it in the staffroom.

Eventualy the teacher on the other end gies me an email and I say I'll get it to them ASAP. Which I do. Or would have done had, you know, the email address they had given me worked. I gave up.

Anyway, other than my schools being arses the weather has been pretty rough recently. It's been raining for the past few days and the humidity has gone through the roof. It's not even that hot, but the air is so thick it's like taking a gulp of milk everytime I breath in. Urgh.

I bought a Nintendo DS Lite while under extreme Peer Pressure. Not that I'm not happy that I did, it's a great little console and very cheap for what it is. There's three of us with them now and I must say Wireless Mario Kart Multiplayer is absolutely fantastic. Reminds me of the Uni when me the rest of 10b Cumberland road would gather for regular bouts on Mario Kart Double Dash.

Fun times.

EDIT: Seems I can't get that video to align properly. Bugger...

Confusing

2006-06-21T16:11:00.000-07:00

My base school have been messing me around somewhat of late. Nothing serious as yet but still, they’re not being very helpful.

First there’s the extra lessons. I am, according to my schedule supposed to do 6 lessons a week. This week I’ve done at least 8. What’s most annoying is that they ask if I can go to these lessons about 10 minutes before they start. Normally this would just be an imposition but recently I’ve been genuinely busy and these unplanned lesson excursions are really digging into my work time.

Thing is, they do ask. It’s not like I have to go to them. Saying no though sends a clear message, and it’s not a good one. Then again, if they keep calling on me I’m going to have to tell the truth and tell them I’m busy.

Then there’s the exams. At my second school they informed me exactly when the exams will be and what they want me to do about them. At Hikawa though, I haven’t a clue. One of my teachers keeps hinting that she wants me to write the Interview test but doesn’t seem to want to come out and say it. So far I’ve played the innocent and only done exactly what she’s asked of me. Now however the exam times are drawing closer (I think) so I suppose I’d better ask her outright.

Finally there are what I’ve come to called the Amazing Changing Classes. Some days lessons are switched round. Say I have a class in the 3rd period. That class may get switched to 6th period. It gets worse when I have more than one class a day (ie, everyday); the class I was supposed to have in 4th period is now in the 2nd and the class I was to take in the 6th period (“plenty of time to prepare!”) is now in the 1st (“oh bollocks”). This shuffling appears to be completely random and the only predictable aspect is the fact that it will happen regularly.

What’s even worse is that no-one tells me about them. Today for example, I was supposed to have two lessons, one in the 3rd period and one in the 6th. Now the 6th period lesson was done yesterday thanks to that day’s Amazing Changing Lessons so I naturally assume that I will have only the one class today. That was my first mistake. My second mistake came when I popped to the shops at the end of first period/beginning of second. I needed a prize for the 3rd period class so I went to the local supermarket (5 mins away) and got a bag of sweets. I return to find a cryptic note on my desk “Please come to classroom 103”. So I do, ten minutes into second period. I innocently ask the English teacher within what she wants with me and am greeted by a look of absolute confusion.
“You don’t have a class now?”
“No, I only have one class today, in 3rd period.”
“Oh.” Confused look. “I was told you had this period with me…”

Turns out that because I had a lesson yesterday that I was supposed to have today, they added an extra lesson on to today’s schedule without telling me. Fine, fine, that should mean that I would indeed have the two lessons I was originally supposed to (before I completed one of them yesterday) and this would mean I would have my original schedule of one 3rd period class and one 6th (leaving out the fact that this would mean I would have an extra lesson this week…). But no, it seems that all 6th period classes are being done in 2nd period today for whatever reason, and no-one thought to tell me that a) I actually had two classes today and b) one of my classes had been moved from 6th to 2nd period.

Confused?

Photos

2006-06-21T01:49:00.000-07:00

Quite a lot's happened since last time I wrote, too much to describe in words. As the saying goes, a picture speaksa thousand...

Hannah in Kagoshima during our whirlwind tour of Kyushu.

Mum and Dad in Aso. They look a little too happy.

Some rocks. Somewhere is Aso.

Kyoto. Some sort of temple there.

Me in Kyoto. Another temple there.

Genuine 18th century samurai armour. Price? £15k

Me, in Gion. Where the geisha live.

Dad calls this the "duck train." Bless 'im.

Engrish bollocks.

Bye bye!

Commitment

2006-06-21T01:47:00.000-07:00

Well, going off Greenham's (http://www.getjealous.com/getjealous.php?go=jonnygreenham) example, though I might try and start this thing up again.

His is much better.

Sally

2006-03-25T00:20:00.000-08:00

Stupid autoformatting...

Phases

2006-02-21T04:59:00.000-08:00

I tend to go through phases of updating my blog like mad and then phases of not updating it at all. Oh well, enjoy it while it lasts me hearties.

So, what’s going down? Not a whole lot, as per usual. Got some boring document stuff to sort out at the mo and that’s taking up the majority of my time. Managed to find out about car insurance for the Sally replacement I have my eye on; it may actually be cheaper, even though the car is a 2.1 litres sports car. This is because the plan I’m on now is one of the more expensive ones, covering every eventuality with a whole load of money. I fully intend to downgrade the plan, which will more than make up for the increase in price due to engine size. Anyway this means that, assuming neither Sally nor the new version break down before the switch is to be made, I should be buying this new one in July.

(Quick edit: just after I wrote this I got a reply to my email stating the above from the person who owns the car. Looks like it might not be as sorted as I'd thought. Will let everyone know as I'm sure you're all fascinated.)

Other than that the number of lessons I’m taking a week has completely dried up. For the past 2 days I’ve had none and spent the day reading various books. Rather dull.

However, I’m going snowboarding on Friday so am really looking forward to that. Never done anything like this before so it should be an…ahem…experience. I’ll take my camera and try and gets some shots of snowy Hiroshima. That’ll mean I’ll have been to both of the atomic bomb cities. Weird.

After that: March is one of the few months where I get choseibi. I went into these in my Nagasaki entry but basically I’m not allowed to work more than 20 days a month, so if there are more working days than that I get them off. In this case, by taking the 2 choseibi and placing them strategically around a national holiday and a weekend, I get a 5 day holiday in the middle of the month. Nice. Then it’s my birthday, for which plans are amazingly miniscule. 22. Weird.

Then Hannah is coming over in April for a few weeks, then the parents after that. Exciting.

Anime

2006-02-19T06:01:00.000-08:00

My friend drew that. In about a minute. In the dark.

She's drawing a picture of me soon. Yay!

Whoops...

2006-02-15T02:56:00.000-08:00

Oh Christ, sorry!

I have fallen somewhat behind with this blog. Oh yes, you heard me correctly. Don’t try to defend me please, it’s my own fault. No…no I won’t hear you talk about yourself in that manner. I don’t mind if you didn’t notice, I should have updated more regardless. Anyway, you are forgiven.

So, Cambodia then. Seems like a good place to start. I actually wrote a journal while I was over there, but so far it has failed to have taken the leap from page to screen. This is the small amount I did manage to type up:

Cambodia travel journal:

December the 23rd.

Siem Reap. I am reliably informed that this translates as “Siam Defeated” or somesuch. Of course, the first wildlife I see is a Siamese cat sniffling for food. Today was a quiet day, mainly due to us landing here at gone 10pm. After what could euphemistically be called an uneventful flight we arrived at an airport roughly the size of the average Next menswear department and greeted with all the hospitality of a small button mushroom. After being herded through the Visa queue ($20!) and customs line we emerged into the night to be greeted by several grinning taxi drivers. Taxi drivers aren’t supposed to grin. They’re supposed to complain about Margaret Thatcher or how they’ve had Gaby Roslin’s gynaecologist in their cab. These ones appear neither to bear any Poll Tax grudges nor know what a gynaecologist is. They were happy. Inviting even. Our guesthouse was supposed to pick us up from the airport but are a no-show. The smiling cabbies have their day. We picked the least bedraggled and made our way to his car. A Toyota Camry. Remember this, it will become important later on. “$5!” he chimed. What a nice man.

7 minutes later and we arrive at the guesthouse. The staff wear “OMG WTF!?!” faces and bluster around the padlocked gates. The cabbie is still smiling as he claims he told us $5 each. The guesthouse has no record of our booking. Our bags are heavy. We pay the taxi driver with $7 and a scowl, we press ourselves onto the guesthouse staff and we barge our way into any rooms they have going. One double and a single. That was the plan. One double and a double will have to suffice.

Inside. Not the Ritz. Not the Hilton. Not even the Trave linn. More like the cabin. Any cabin. On an allotment. I check the bathroom; windows with no glass and bug nets riddled with deceased beasties. The taps work. The showers works and, thank god, the flush works. I decided to unpack the essentials; pajamas, iPod, notebook and pen mosquito repellent. Early night so I tuck the bug net in around the surprisingly cushy mattress and settle down to an evening of Queen.

December the 24th: Christmas Eve.

Wake up far too early. Listen to iPod again and go for a shower. Take the iPod off first though. Obviously. Turn the handle, the water still runs. Lovely. Step under. Step out again rather quicker. Cold. No visible way to heat the stream of water so grunt and bear it, it’s hot out anyway. It’s uncomfortably cold, like lying naked on an upturned filing cabinet, but still, it feels better to be clean. Water off, soap out, wash hair. Rather an impressive lather going so I play the stylist. Mohican. Dickensian. Dracula. My imagination wasted I decide to finish. Turn the handle. More cold water. Or rather, not. No water of any temperature. Turn the knob again. Nothing. Turn the tap. A rattling, a grumbling, but no water. Bugger it.

I consider my options;

1: Get dressed, hair still resembling a Mohawk, and request the use of the others’ bathroom
2: Spit in a glass and use that.

Not much choice really until I notice the bottles of drinking water lovingly sprawled across a desk. It’s a shame to waste them but it’s better than looking like a creamy Mr T for the rest of the day.

Finish up shower and go for breakfast.

It was pretty much downhill from there*. I’ve stuck a few photos on anyway.

So, has anything happened since? Not really. I now have 3 fewer lessons a week than I did last semester, 4 if you count the fact that my mountain school haven’t needed me for about a month now. This obviously has left me with quite a bit of spare time. What have you done with it? I hear you ask. Well not update my blog obviously.

Oh, and my car broke down, something to do with the spark plugs. Anyway, the mechanic type bloke told me that there was no point fixing it properly as something else would probably breakdown in tandem and render it all a bit silly. Hmm. Apparently my little car (christened “Sally” in an arcane ritual that I will not delve into here) has about 6 months left to live.

L

Oh well. I’ve already begun the hunt for Sally v2.0 and have a few promising leads. Will elaborate when I know more.

Other than that…well Hannah is coming over in April and the folks (you know who you are) are heading over in May. My plans remain the same; to come home at Christmas. That is, if I can afford it; turns out cars aren’t as cheap over here as I was told.

Anyway, I shall leave for the moment but believe me when I say I shall think of little else but this blog for at least the next 2 minutes.

*Just kidding, it was great.

Normal service will be resumed;

2005-12-22T06:32:00.000-08:00

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!

Non-fiction

2005-12-18T05:20:00.000-08:00

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.

Home

2005-12-16T19:23:00.000-08:00

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.

Cambodia

2005-12-13T23:50:00.000-08:00

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.

Annoyed.

2005-12-03T10:42:00.000-08:00

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…

Eyebrows

2005-11-24T01:55:00.000-08:00

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.

Uhoh.

2005-11-24T01:27:00.000-08:00

http://www.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/getarticle.pl5?fl20051122zg.htm

Hmm, not happy about this.

Samurai

2005-11-22T06:16:00.000-08:00

I do have a longer entry reviewing the lastest Harry Potter but due to popular demand:

Money

2005-11-19T20:32:00.000-08:00

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

Another

2005-11-10T04:08:00.000-08:00

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.

Christmassy

2005-11-09T00:13:00.000-08:00

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.

Sport

2005-10-21T00:42:00.000-07:00

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!

Nagasaki

2005-09-18T05:05:00.000-07:00

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.

Stuff

2005-09-09T00:39:00.000-07:00

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...

Kagami

2005-09-02T20:21:00.000-07:00

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.

Hallelujah!!!

2005-09-02T02:01:00.000-07:00

'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!

Tokyo

2005-08-01T02:06:00.000-07:00

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….

Events

2005-07-10T13:01:00.000-07:00

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.

Comments

2005-07-10T12:41:00.000-07:00

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!"

Over

2005-06-16T15:02:00.000-07:00

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:

Sith

2005-05-22T11:12:00.000-07:00

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.

Japan

2005-05-21T16:33:00.000-07:00

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.

"E3 conferences 'a bit shit' shocker!"

2005-05-17T15:14:00.000-07:00

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.

Over....nearly

2005-05-12T06:38:00.000-07:00

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

Right

2005-04-22T10:31:00.000-07:00

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.

Wrong

2005-04-21T05:14:00.000-07:00

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

2005-04-21T05:12:00.000-07:00

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.

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.....