"[Nattou] tastes like pickled booger-dick"
-Scott Mauldin
That is all.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
The Game
Yesterday, I saw a salary man who was alone, playing a crane game at a game center at like 11:30pm. I came across him after having wandered away from my friends and I felt compelled to watch him. Everything about the scene put out an atmosphere of futile loneliness. I watched him put in one 100円 coin after another in a depressingly solemn effort to make the stuffed doll fall down. He was holding a briefcase.
I could not help but guess about his life and wonder what circumstances led him here, alone, so late at night, quietly struggling to win a small prize.
Eventually, the doll did fall over and was hanging over the edge. It looked like the little blond girl with the square mouth was nearly about fall. But no matter how many coins he gave the machine, the stuffed doll simply would not come down to where he could reach it.
So, after having ran out of either money or hope, he simply touched the glass and looked inside the bright machine for a few seconds. Then, he slowly picked his briefcase back up and walked away.
I could not help but guess about his life and wonder what circumstances led him here, alone, so late at night, quietly struggling to win a small prize.
Eventually, the doll did fall over and was hanging over the edge. It looked like the little blond girl with the square mouth was nearly about fall. But no matter how many coins he gave the machine, the stuffed doll simply would not come down to where he could reach it.
So, after having ran out of either money or hope, he simply touched the glass and looked inside the bright machine for a few seconds. Then, he slowly picked his briefcase back up and walked away.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
なつかしい。。。 nostalgia
Today, I gave presentations about America, Oklahoma, Cowboys, Native Americans, and whatnot at 八雲台小学校 (Yagumodai elementary school) as a volunteer, unlike the similar presentations I have to give at two separate elementary schools next week. I wasn't really in the mood to get up at 7:30 this morning, but I guess I managed.
There was a Spanish guy who gave a presentation as well and is apparently one of the student's father. His Japanese was amazing and made me feel like I didn't know anything, but at the same time gave me hope that maybe I will become good at Japanese someday. But other than him, there were two girls from Indonesia and a guy from Morocco from my university.
We each spoke for around 10 minutes about where we were from to three different classes of third graders. Apparently the students researched our respective countries and in each class there was a group that presented what they found. I only got to see the ones about America since I had to change classes, but apparently Americans' favorite things to eat are hamburgers, pizza, pork and beans, and watermelon. And since it was an open house day or something, there were a lot of moms there watching me. There was a bit of pressure, but it was all good fun.
Afterwards, there was some sort of sports competition and all the students gathered outside for a jump rope contest. Each class tried to see how many people could jump through the rope in five minutes. Then they had some kind of demonstration for the parents with really awkward background music. It was pretty amazing.
But seeing everyone having fun and organizing their jump rope teams and whatnot made me miss those days. I may just have selective memory and only remember the good parts, but I miss sports days and the feeling of returning to the comfort home after a seemingly endless day at school. It even made me miss junior high and the excitement of talking to everyone during lunch break. I guess it made me want to go back to the days of only worrying about the things that interested me.
The lady who organized the trip for us was there to see one of her sons and also brought her youngest son, Yuta, along. He was two years old and simply adorable. Seeing all of the moms gathered there also made me wish I had an お母さん to make me bento lunches and buy me those hard-case style backpacks.
But on the way back, I thought about what it must be like to be a parent, which kinda freaked me out. My mom was 21 when I was born, but I can't begin to imagine what it would be like if I had a kid next year. I can barely take care of myself, much less someone else who is completely dependent on me for everything. I thought about how having a child completely changes your life forever and realized that I need to be more grateful towards my parents than I am.
I guess life's a cycle and we each have our own place in it that's constantly changing, whether we'd like it to or not. It's all seems so cliché, but I guess it's true. I hope I can be one of those people that finds happiness in all the stages of life.
Captain out.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Recent happenings
30, January
Saturday
We waited quite a long time to get seats in a cheap, kaiten sushi place and spent way too long in a furniture store while doing so. But I have decided that I can't tell the difference between “fresh”, expensive fish and the cheaper versions. And I certainly can't tell the differences between the varying priced cuts of fish. It all tastes nearly the same to me. I can see a difference from the sushi in Oklahoma (and by sushi, I mean the rolls they give you), but in Japan, the difference seems quite marginal. Maybe since it's all relatively fresh here, it hasn't had time to acquire that “fishy” taste and therefore barely has any taste at all. But what do I know? I'm no connoisseur.
31, January
Sunday
I went to Yoyogi Park. Unfortunately Meiji Shrine had already closed, but I saw all of the cosplay people on the bridge near the entrance. Some of them had interesting costumes; but for the most part, they all looked the same and sat around on suitcases doing nothing really. It seems like they just go there just to sit around and have their picture taken.
But man oh man, was there a surprise waiting for me just inside the park. I was greeted by a rockabilly dance group wearing their poodle skirts and letter jackets. There were, of course, the black-leather-jacket-wearing cool guys just standing around, probably talking about how much they hate squares. But most of them were just having fun cutting a little rug to some good old rock'n'roll.
In sharp contrast to those stool pigeons dancing ever so mildly, however, were some true rebels, dressed in all black leather and who's jackets read something like “black shadows”. They were truly a fear-inducing sight to behold. When they weren't howling, they were shredding on their air guitars. Their leader was adorned with a black crown of hair that was at least a foot tall and almost as cool as the righteous jams being played at a volume obviously loud enough to drown out those yellow-bellied softies no more than 40 feet away.
However, in the midst of all this sauntered what must have been no less than the emperor of all that is rock and roll. His shoulders and back were graced with a leopard-print cape; yet left revealed was his royal chest which bore the tattoo markings of his rockin' holiness. He was no doubt regarded as a czar by both groups and feared by all present. Should you ever venture thither, you had better play your cards right.
The rest of the park was OK too.
1, February
Monday
Today was the last of the elementary school trips until April or so. Feelings of sadness were shared by all as it was Jordan's last of such trips, being that he will return to Australia in March.
I managed to get some good action shots of everyone on the video camera, though!
Afterwards, we went to our adviser/organizer lady's house for a Sukiyaki dinner to celebrate. The food was amazing and seemed relatively simple to make. She put on some really weird and awkward Japanese music. Apparently one of the songs was about “finding the g-spot”. Then we listened to some early Beatles and had plenty of jokes and awkward conversations over some incredible chocolate and fudge mochi ice cream. It's called daifuku and the half Japanese/Australian guy, Daniel, talked about he and his brother used to call it “Die fuck you!”
It was a good evening.
Saturday
We waited quite a long time to get seats in a cheap, kaiten sushi place and spent way too long in a furniture store while doing so. But I have decided that I can't tell the difference between “fresh”, expensive fish and the cheaper versions. And I certainly can't tell the differences between the varying priced cuts of fish. It all tastes nearly the same to me. I can see a difference from the sushi in Oklahoma (and by sushi, I mean the rolls they give you), but in Japan, the difference seems quite marginal. Maybe since it's all relatively fresh here, it hasn't had time to acquire that “fishy” taste and therefore barely has any taste at all. But what do I know? I'm no connoisseur.
31, January
Sunday
I went to Yoyogi Park. Unfortunately Meiji Shrine had already closed, but I saw all of the cosplay people on the bridge near the entrance. Some of them had interesting costumes; but for the most part, they all looked the same and sat around on suitcases doing nothing really. It seems like they just go there just to sit around and have their picture taken.
But man oh man, was there a surprise waiting for me just inside the park. I was greeted by a rockabilly dance group wearing their poodle skirts and letter jackets. There were, of course, the black-leather-jacket-wearing cool guys just standing around, probably talking about how much they hate squares. But most of them were just having fun cutting a little rug to some good old rock'n'roll.
In sharp contrast to those stool pigeons dancing ever so mildly, however, were some true rebels, dressed in all black leather and who's jackets read something like “black shadows”. They were truly a fear-inducing sight to behold. When they weren't howling, they were shredding on their air guitars. Their leader was adorned with a black crown of hair that was at least a foot tall and almost as cool as the righteous jams being played at a volume obviously loud enough to drown out those yellow-bellied softies no more than 40 feet away.
However, in the midst of all this sauntered what must have been no less than the emperor of all that is rock and roll. His shoulders and back were graced with a leopard-print cape; yet left revealed was his royal chest which bore the tattoo markings of his rockin' holiness. He was no doubt regarded as a czar by both groups and feared by all present. Should you ever venture thither, you had better play your cards right.
The rest of the park was OK too.
1, February
Monday
Today was the last of the elementary school trips until April or so. Feelings of sadness were shared by all as it was Jordan's last of such trips, being that he will return to Australia in March.
I managed to get some good action shots of everyone on the video camera, though!
Afterwards, we went to our adviser/organizer lady's house for a Sukiyaki dinner to celebrate. The food was amazing and seemed relatively simple to make. She put on some really weird and awkward Japanese music. Apparently one of the songs was about “finding the g-spot”. Then we listened to some early Beatles and had plenty of jokes and awkward conversations over some incredible chocolate and fudge mochi ice cream. It's called daifuku and the half Japanese/Australian guy, Daniel, talked about he and his brother used to call it “Die fuck you!”
It was a good evening.
Friday, January 29, 2010
An account of events thus far
Call me Michael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
By reason of these things, then, the whaling voyage was welcome; the great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild conceits that swayed me to my purpose, two and two there floated into my inmost soul, endless processions of the whale, and, mid most of them all, one grand hooded phantom, like a snow hill in the air.
However, little did I know at that time the unexpected turn of events that my journey had lain in store for me. Through a series of mishaps that no longer lie clear in my memory, I now rest, by my reckoning, on the opposite side of the earth in every sense. The events that led to my arrival are nearly as unknown to me as the world which I am surrounded by. I have expended much effort in attempting to decipher the local tongue; but there is a myriad of fine nuances that continue to elude me.
It is a world that is in nearly all manners converse to the one which I was familiar with. However, I can not help but notice that there are an odd number of things that bear subtle, yet striking resemblances to the world I had known. It seems as though the vague vestiges of my memory were scattered everywhere upon my arrival. All of which, however, leads me to believe that I may not have been the first to know such an experience in this land of seemingly infinite unknowns.
Some notable entries from my previous log:
30, October
All of the crew and a few locals gathered this evening for quite a joyous celebration. Some were given to wine and all were certainly full of gayness and laughter. Being that it was his birthday, Momchil, a Bulgarian and quite a pillar of a man as he rises over two meters, was of the highest spirits among us. As he is usually reserved, I was quite surprised to see how drink had loosed his jaw. He seems to have become quite fascinated by a sport in which two rather corpulent men struggle to push each other out of a small arena. He also withheld none of his enthusiasm for dancing to the music of Bulgaria. 'Twas quite a merry evening.
10, November
I went today with Jorge from Germany and Jordan from Australia on the first of what is to be a series of visits to a nearby primary school. We are to go once a week and give presentations that provide an international perspective for the children. Interacting with them was all good fun and I am looking forward to the upcoming visits. However, having nowhere near mastered the language, this may prove to be a difficult endeavor.
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