I've made you something tasty, delicious, and full of oil
3/29/2005
We somehow packed 6 people into the tiniest Japanese car I have ever seen. Apparently this car also gave me a nice Jerry Curl
The Road to Tsuyama
Since Janna’s mother happened to be in Japan, it would be silly not to throw a little party in Tsuyama. At first Janna asked her Rotary counselor, Tomosue-san (who you may remember as the man with the Hummer) and he agreed to have the party at one of his three very large houses. Some problems arose and he later told Janna we couldn’t have the party at his house, but instead arranged for the use of the Tsuyama International Hotel as the merrymaking location. Janna invited about 25 of her teachers, friends, and Tsuyama High School Judo team members for a night of tacos, music, and general American-style excitement.
I was welcomed to Tsuyama around 12:30 on Thursday by a mix of clouds and drizzle. Janna and her mother (who had packed an entire suitcase full of taco mix) were out shopping for meats and other party provisions so I spent the day walking Tsuyama. The first stop was my favorite clothing shop, Mate, where I purchased a swanky new jacket and some t-shirts for the impending Japanese summer. At Joyfulls, a type of Japanese 24 hour dining location, I grabbed some fries and a mediocre hamburger (more like a meatloaf sandwich) before walking to the hotel amid cloudy skies to meet Janna.
The party was being held in the garden of the International Hotel (accessed through a series of back doors and stairwells through a valet parking lot), with a large connecting tatami room piled high with food, drinks, and American candy. I was introduced to Janna’s host family (perhaps her fifth, she moves often), and her sister and I set out to make some latkes. I couldn’t find a grater, so Janna’s host sister and I diced potatoes and onions by hand. It is amazing how well you get to know someone while crying your eyes out over a chopped onion. She had spent about 3 months in New Zealand, so we alternated between Japanese, English, and sobbing.
Around 5 guests started to arrive for the party. I was frying latkes by the entrance, and greeted everyone with a hearty “Irashyai!” Cori and Katrin, exchange students from Okayama, arrived and joined the fun along with various Tsuyama Rotary members, Kimura-sensei, and about 15 students from Janna’s school. Michiko, whose house I stayed at last time I traveled to Tsuyama also made an appearance and informed me she would be studying Marketing at California Berkeley over the summer. She wanted me to come and see her, but even with my poor American geography skills I could tell flying from Boston to CA would be a bit pricey. We decided on New York as a compromise.
The party went amazingly well, with tons of food to spare. Janna gave a small introduction on how to make tacos, and everyone dug into the sushi, latkes, chicken, sandwiches, and salad. The Hotel provided free drinks, and Janna’s mother brought chocolate and candy from America for dessert. I went around the room with a microphone and had everyone introduce themselves, and then the Judo club did a small demonstration with Janna right there on the tatami mats.
Following dinner, which lasted quite a while, I had assumed I would be sleeping on the floor of Janna’s room in the hotel. Instead, the Rotary member who owned the hotel gave Cori, Katrin, and I rooms of our own, as well as tickets for free breakfast in the morning. We hauled some candy and drinks back to the room for the evening, and spent the rest of the night listening to music and discussing philosophy, politics, and nature (sort of).
Oddly enough, around 11:30, everyone had a craving for cup noodles so we walked in our pajamas to the nearest konbini where Janna spotted her school principal. He gave us a strange look but said nothing.
In the morning, Katrin had to leave early from the station to return her school uniform to her school in Okayama. She was then traveling to some famous cities in Japan, and then back to Germany at the beginning of April. It was the third time I saw someone who I will probably not see again for a long time board a train and wave goodbye. I had not spent much time with Katrin, but Cori went to school with her everyday and those kinds of goodbyes can be quite emotional, albiet movie-like (on par with, “frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn” although admittedly a different emotional tone). It’s odd to know that almost everyone you meet on Rotary exchange is only for a short-term basis, but I think we make the most of the time we have.
Cori and I walked from the station to Janna’s school, where we were invited to attend a meeting with other English teachers in the area and students from Tsuyama. About 50 students were there for the event and we spent most of the day playing games and activities related to English. While I had never met the English teachers before, they all knew Neil, Jez, and John from my town. It’s also always good to have connections in other parts of Japan in case I get stranded (or end up running from the police). One of the teachers, Alexa, brought her mother with her to the conference (who was from England and reminded me almost instantly of Judi Dench). I had a great time speaking English with the Tsuyama kids and on the whole felt like more of a teacher than a student. Janna’s mother commented that I should be a teacher, but I don’t think I could live with the salary (or mental strain). It was rather exciting, though.
After the conference Cori and I took a taxi back to the station (we were far too tired to walk) and then a train back to Okayama. In the station a new import foods store had opened so we spent a while drooling over Skippy peanut butter before taking our respective buses to our respective houses. Respectively.
Another trip down, but the fun’s not ever yet. Tune in next time for Kanonji, Japan’s number-one must see location (perhaps).
I was welcomed to Tsuyama around 12:30 on Thursday by a mix of clouds and drizzle. Janna and her mother (who had packed an entire suitcase full of taco mix) were out shopping for meats and other party provisions so I spent the day walking Tsuyama. The first stop was my favorite clothing shop, Mate, where I purchased a swanky new jacket and some t-shirts for the impending Japanese summer. At Joyfulls, a type of Japanese 24 hour dining location, I grabbed some fries and a mediocre hamburger (more like a meatloaf sandwich) before walking to the hotel amid cloudy skies to meet Janna.
The party was being held in the garden of the International Hotel (accessed through a series of back doors and stairwells through a valet parking lot), with a large connecting tatami room piled high with food, drinks, and American candy. I was introduced to Janna’s host family (perhaps her fifth, she moves often), and her sister and I set out to make some latkes. I couldn’t find a grater, so Janna’s host sister and I diced potatoes and onions by hand. It is amazing how well you get to know someone while crying your eyes out over a chopped onion. She had spent about 3 months in New Zealand, so we alternated between Japanese, English, and sobbing.
Around 5 guests started to arrive for the party. I was frying latkes by the entrance, and greeted everyone with a hearty “Irashyai!” Cori and Katrin, exchange students from Okayama, arrived and joined the fun along with various Tsuyama Rotary members, Kimura-sensei, and about 15 students from Janna’s school. Michiko, whose house I stayed at last time I traveled to Tsuyama also made an appearance and informed me she would be studying Marketing at California Berkeley over the summer. She wanted me to come and see her, but even with my poor American geography skills I could tell flying from Boston to CA would be a bit pricey. We decided on New York as a compromise.
The party went amazingly well, with tons of food to spare. Janna gave a small introduction on how to make tacos, and everyone dug into the sushi, latkes, chicken, sandwiches, and salad. The Hotel provided free drinks, and Janna’s mother brought chocolate and candy from America for dessert. I went around the room with a microphone and had everyone introduce themselves, and then the Judo club did a small demonstration with Janna right there on the tatami mats.
Following dinner, which lasted quite a while, I had assumed I would be sleeping on the floor of Janna’s room in the hotel. Instead, the Rotary member who owned the hotel gave Cori, Katrin, and I rooms of our own, as well as tickets for free breakfast in the morning. We hauled some candy and drinks back to the room for the evening, and spent the rest of the night listening to music and discussing philosophy, politics, and nature (sort of).
Oddly enough, around 11:30, everyone had a craving for cup noodles so we walked in our pajamas to the nearest konbini where Janna spotted her school principal. He gave us a strange look but said nothing.
In the morning, Katrin had to leave early from the station to return her school uniform to her school in Okayama. She was then traveling to some famous cities in Japan, and then back to Germany at the beginning of April. It was the third time I saw someone who I will probably not see again for a long time board a train and wave goodbye. I had not spent much time with Katrin, but Cori went to school with her everyday and those kinds of goodbyes can be quite emotional, albiet movie-like (on par with, “frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn” although admittedly a different emotional tone). It’s odd to know that almost everyone you meet on Rotary exchange is only for a short-term basis, but I think we make the most of the time we have.
Cori and I walked from the station to Janna’s school, where we were invited to attend a meeting with other English teachers in the area and students from Tsuyama. About 50 students were there for the event and we spent most of the day playing games and activities related to English. While I had never met the English teachers before, they all knew Neil, Jez, and John from my town. It’s also always good to have connections in other parts of Japan in case I get stranded (or end up running from the police). One of the teachers, Alexa, brought her mother with her to the conference (who was from England and reminded me almost instantly of Judi Dench). I had a great time speaking English with the Tsuyama kids and on the whole felt like more of a teacher than a student. Janna’s mother commented that I should be a teacher, but I don’t think I could live with the salary (or mental strain). It was rather exciting, though.
After the conference Cori and I took a taxi back to the station (we were far too tired to walk) and then a train back to Okayama. In the station a new import foods store had opened so we spent a while drooling over Skippy peanut butter before taking our respective buses to our respective houses. Respectively.
Another trip down, but the fun’s not ever yet. Tune in next time for Kanonji, Japan’s number-one must see location (perhaps).
3/26/2005
Just Like Music
Last Wednesday, before attending Japanese school, Kimura-sensei invited Cori, Janna, and I to lunch at her house. Janna's mother was also coming all the way from America to visit Japan, so it happened to work out perfectly that I could sample Kimura-sensei’s fine cuisine as well as meet Janna’s mother. I took a bus to Okayama and met Cori, Janna, and Mrs. Hall at the station (I had the intense urge to call her Hall-san but she preempted my mistake by telling me to call her “Judy”). The four of us took a taxi (it was raining) to Kimura-sensei’s house, a beautiful brick building near the edge of the city area of Okayama. I got a chance to talk with Judy while Kimura-sensei prepared what ended up being a massive lunch. The trip to Japan was Judy’s first time to be outside the US, but she was hosting not one but three exchange students at her house in Newport News. One was only short term, but she said it would be great to get a break from the cooking, cleaning, and carpooling of three exchange students.
Kimura-sensei then served lunch; Chinese egg rolls, a corn soup, chicken salad, go moku (vegetables over noodles), with strawberry ice cream for dessert. Amazingly delicious. I felt important as Janna, Cori, and I translated Kimura-sensei’s Japanese into English for Judy, and vice versa. After lunch Judy took a small nap while we waited for a cab to take us to the Japanese school. I felt quite tired myself, and relaxed a while on the couch chatting with Janna and Cori. Back at the school, no one felt much like studying (or teaching) so we only did one lesson before finishing for the day. After class I shopped for a while with Janna and her mother before taking the bus back to Tamano.
Arriving home around 7, I went to Jirou-sensei's house for the weekly guitar lesson. He amazed me with his skill, as usual, but after the lesson a girl from Tai came over to play the Shamisen and Koto. It was my first experience with a Shamisen, but I found it somewhat similar to a guitar. Unlike a guitar, the head of the Shamisen is made of cat-skin (also dog-skin in cheaper models). The Okinawan Shamisen, also called Jamisen, is made of snakeskin. The Koto is a long hollowed out box made from Paulownia wood, with thirteen silk strings. It is instantly recognizable as Japanese, and both the Shamisen and Koto have sounds that would remind me of Japan in any situation.
I tried my hand at both instruments, having a little luck with the Shamisen playing “Sakura.” It was excellent to get a chance to play these traditional instruments, and the girl who brought them gave me tickets to a show next month in Okayama. I thanked her profusely and hopefully I will get another chance to play before I leave Japan.
The next day I left for Tsuyama, but I will leave that experience for another entry.
Kimura-sensei then served lunch; Chinese egg rolls, a corn soup, chicken salad, go moku (vegetables over noodles), with strawberry ice cream for dessert. Amazingly delicious. I felt important as Janna, Cori, and I translated Kimura-sensei’s Japanese into English for Judy, and vice versa. After lunch Judy took a small nap while we waited for a cab to take us to the Japanese school. I felt quite tired myself, and relaxed a while on the couch chatting with Janna and Cori. Back at the school, no one felt much like studying (or teaching) so we only did one lesson before finishing for the day. After class I shopped for a while with Janna and her mother before taking the bus back to Tamano.
Arriving home around 7, I went to Jirou-sensei's house for the weekly guitar lesson. He amazed me with his skill, as usual, but after the lesson a girl from Tai came over to play the Shamisen and Koto. It was my first experience with a Shamisen, but I found it somewhat similar to a guitar. Unlike a guitar, the head of the Shamisen is made of cat-skin (also dog-skin in cheaper models). The Okinawan Shamisen, also called Jamisen, is made of snakeskin. The Koto is a long hollowed out box made from Paulownia wood, with thirteen silk strings. It is instantly recognizable as Japanese, and both the Shamisen and Koto have sounds that would remind me of Japan in any situation.
I tried my hand at both instruments, having a little luck with the Shamisen playing “Sakura.” It was excellent to get a chance to play these traditional instruments, and the girl who brought them gave me tickets to a show next month in Okayama. I thanked her profusely and hopefully I will get another chance to play before I leave Japan.
The next day I left for Tsuyama, but I will leave that experience for another entry.
3/25/2005
Dining at "Cannery Row," Okayama's excellent Italian restaurant. We hadn't received our food yet, so the waiter placed that glass vase on the table as a centerpiece
Time and a Half
The original title of this entry was “Quite A Day.” But when being forced to choose between sleeping and blogging, I reluctantly caved and changed the name to “Quite a Few Days.” More procrastination quickly ushered in “Quite a Week,” which leads me to this entry. A decent sized chunk of time to recall, but I promise no pop quizzes at the end.
As far as exciting days go, Sunday was rather fun-filled. My host brother presented me with a vociferous wake-up call around 6:30 in the morning. Our destination was a temple in Okayama for Zazen meditation (perhaps more recognizable as simply "Zen"). I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do more than stay curled up in my own warm “Zen” ball on the futon, but I slowly crawled out of bed and downstairs for some breakfast. At 7 it was off to the temple, which was about 45 minutes away by car.
Arriving at Sogenji Temple (an international monastery), I spotted some foreigners walking around the premises with towels wrapped around their shaved heads on the crisp Sunday morning. The Zen temple in Okayama attracts many people from around the world who wish to study the art. I slipped off my shoes after passing through the main gate, noting being able to see my breath in the air, and entered a large tatami room where people had gathered for the morning meditation. After talking to a man who seemed to be in charge, I took a seat on a small cushion (zafu) in seiza style (on your knees, putting most of your weight on your heels). The “traditional” or “correct” method of meditation is called agura, which for lack of a better description is a very tight “Indian-style” sitting position that I could not attain. I sat in seiza for a good ten minutes, and just as started to get up and stretch my legs, the meditation began with the beating of a large drum. After the drumming, everyone in the room began chanting a certain prayer that I couldn't follow. After the prayer everyone sat quietly for another 20 minutes. That doesn’t seem too long, right? But after already having been seated for 10, my legs went numb and started to exhibit a dull constant pain below the waist (that's never good). I also lost the ability to wiggle my toes (probably not good either). Instead, I tried to focus on a point and think of nothingness. I was told, “As you sit, the mind takes on various postures.” My mind posture manifested itself as various rap and hip hop lyrics that melodically interrupted my thoughts of emptiness.
I usually keep track of time in half hour segments, about the length of a short television program. Sitting on my knees for 30 minutes in a chilly room seemed like a small eternity. By the end of the first session, signaled by the beating of the same large drum, I was ready for a wheelchair. Most people in the room quickly stood and began some leg stretches, while I lay paralyzed from the waist down. After a few minutes, I regained the strength to stand in a position similar to that of “homo-erectus”. I eventually rose and joined in what looked like some “Tai-chi” exercises before assuming the seiza position for the second round of meditation. During this session, once everyone had achieved a quiet sitting position, the two monks in charge walked through the rows of silent bodies with a large wooden paddle. One by one, the priests would stop, bow, then strike the meditating individual with the wooden bat four times on each shoulder. If nothing else, the shock of the bat took my mind off the cold and kept me from shivering. Additionally, my mind felt crystal clear and the musical interludes came to a stop. After everyone had been struck with the bat, another prayer was chanted and everyone left the room for some green tea (which I drank in a comfortable sitting position). While not my favorite 50-minute relaxation activity, Zazen was an interesting experience indeed.
After touring the grounds of Sogenji with a girl from Okayama University (also her first time at the meditation), my host mother and I drove back to the house, arriving around 10:53. I can pinpoint the exact time because as she went around back to open the door (we had both forgotten our key), I felt a level 3 earthquake that slightly shook the house and car. My host mother appeared at the door but had not felt anything at all. I told that that I was sure there had been an earthquake so we ran to the television to check the news. At first there was nothing, but after a few seconds a warning flashed on the screen that stated there had been a level 6 earthquake centered around Fukuoka. I messaged Rahul to make sure he was okay, but he replied later saying he had been sleeping at the time and didn’t feel a thing.
After the earthquake, I ate some lunch with my host mother and father at a ramen restaurant where we discussed Zen mediation. Afterwards, as if I hadn’t punished my legs enough, my host mother took me to meet her friend Mio’s husband who is a professional “Keirin” bicycle racer. “Keirin,” performed inside a “velodrome,” (two points if you know what I’m talking about without reading on) is a type of bicycle racing on a curved track that you may have seen on the Olympics. Mio’s husband races for a living, and agreed to let me, Amber, and Mark (two English teachers in the area) give it a try.
There is a velodrome close to where I live in Tai, but I never got the chance to be inside the building, let alone on the track itself. The bicycle used for racing is a fixed gear, which means you have to continue pedaling as you proceed around the track. It was quite windy that day, and I was informed that a good time for one lap around the track (400M) is 37 seconds. I breezed through with a cool 43 seconds on the first lap, but was spent by the second. Races usually consist of five laps, with the racers staying very close during the first three and then sprinting to the finish. The scariest part about Keirin was the curved sections of the track around the corners. The slightest movement of the handlebars sent the bike wobbling, and I could picture myself tumbling to the coarse sand and clay mixture below. After destroying my legs with meditation and biking, we took a break inside the locker room and watched a Keirin race broadcast live from another part of Japan.
The following day, I taught English classes in Tama for most of the day. Most of the classes were free talk and general conversation, so I had a blast and met some interesting people as well. One woman told me her job was “eating,” but later clarified that eating was in fact only her hobby. She ended up inviting me to a special invitation-only soba tasting event at a local man’s house in Tamano.
That evening my host family took me to “Cannery Row,” the delicious Italian restaurant in Okayama. I usually stick out wherever I go in Japan, but even more so when I wrote my name on the waiting list as “Ben-sama,” a very unconventional Japanese surname. The Maitre d' did a double take before announcing the name, but we were served just the same.
The following day, Wataru invited me to a rock show in Okayama at Club Desperado. His band, as well as 9 other high school rock bands in the Okayama area attended. Two of the bands were composed of only females; one played Avril Lavigne covers, which I have to admit were terrible, but redeemed themselves by finishing with an excellent Japanese song that I can’t remember but was super-thrilling at the time. The bassist in another band was sporting the largest base I have ever seen in my life. It was easily as tall as most of the girls in the club. He compensated by being an excellent base player, with singing that was not quite understandable yet decent.
Wataru’s band HOOP was excellent, as usual, heightened by the fact that I knew most of the lyrics and there were a ton of people in the club. For the most part, Japanese kids don’t seem to want to dance very much, but a few guys started moving around and got the whole crowd involved.
Tune in next time for the shamisen, accordion, and a little bit of Tsuyama fun.
As far as exciting days go, Sunday was rather fun-filled. My host brother presented me with a vociferous wake-up call around 6:30 in the morning. Our destination was a temple in Okayama for Zazen meditation (perhaps more recognizable as simply "Zen"). I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do more than stay curled up in my own warm “Zen” ball on the futon, but I slowly crawled out of bed and downstairs for some breakfast. At 7 it was off to the temple, which was about 45 minutes away by car.
Arriving at Sogenji Temple (an international monastery), I spotted some foreigners walking around the premises with towels wrapped around their shaved heads on the crisp Sunday morning. The Zen temple in Okayama attracts many people from around the world who wish to study the art. I slipped off my shoes after passing through the main gate, noting being able to see my breath in the air, and entered a large tatami room where people had gathered for the morning meditation. After talking to a man who seemed to be in charge, I took a seat on a small cushion (zafu) in seiza style (on your knees, putting most of your weight on your heels). The “traditional” or “correct” method of meditation is called agura, which for lack of a better description is a very tight “Indian-style” sitting position that I could not attain. I sat in seiza for a good ten minutes, and just as started to get up and stretch my legs, the meditation began with the beating of a large drum. After the drumming, everyone in the room began chanting a certain prayer that I couldn't follow. After the prayer everyone sat quietly for another 20 minutes. That doesn’t seem too long, right? But after already having been seated for 10, my legs went numb and started to exhibit a dull constant pain below the waist (that's never good). I also lost the ability to wiggle my toes (probably not good either). Instead, I tried to focus on a point and think of nothingness. I was told, “As you sit, the mind takes on various postures.” My mind posture manifested itself as various rap and hip hop lyrics that melodically interrupted my thoughts of emptiness.
I usually keep track of time in half hour segments, about the length of a short television program. Sitting on my knees for 30 minutes in a chilly room seemed like a small eternity. By the end of the first session, signaled by the beating of the same large drum, I was ready for a wheelchair. Most people in the room quickly stood and began some leg stretches, while I lay paralyzed from the waist down. After a few minutes, I regained the strength to stand in a position similar to that of “homo-erectus”. I eventually rose and joined in what looked like some “Tai-chi” exercises before assuming the seiza position for the second round of meditation. During this session, once everyone had achieved a quiet sitting position, the two monks in charge walked through the rows of silent bodies with a large wooden paddle. One by one, the priests would stop, bow, then strike the meditating individual with the wooden bat four times on each shoulder. If nothing else, the shock of the bat took my mind off the cold and kept me from shivering. Additionally, my mind felt crystal clear and the musical interludes came to a stop. After everyone had been struck with the bat, another prayer was chanted and everyone left the room for some green tea (which I drank in a comfortable sitting position). While not my favorite 50-minute relaxation activity, Zazen was an interesting experience indeed.
After touring the grounds of Sogenji with a girl from Okayama University (also her first time at the meditation), my host mother and I drove back to the house, arriving around 10:53. I can pinpoint the exact time because as she went around back to open the door (we had both forgotten our key), I felt a level 3 earthquake that slightly shook the house and car. My host mother appeared at the door but had not felt anything at all. I told that that I was sure there had been an earthquake so we ran to the television to check the news. At first there was nothing, but after a few seconds a warning flashed on the screen that stated there had been a level 6 earthquake centered around Fukuoka. I messaged Rahul to make sure he was okay, but he replied later saying he had been sleeping at the time and didn’t feel a thing.
After the earthquake, I ate some lunch with my host mother and father at a ramen restaurant where we discussed Zen mediation. Afterwards, as if I hadn’t punished my legs enough, my host mother took me to meet her friend Mio’s husband who is a professional “Keirin” bicycle racer. “Keirin,” performed inside a “velodrome,” (two points if you know what I’m talking about without reading on) is a type of bicycle racing on a curved track that you may have seen on the Olympics. Mio’s husband races for a living, and agreed to let me, Amber, and Mark (two English teachers in the area) give it a try.
There is a velodrome close to where I live in Tai, but I never got the chance to be inside the building, let alone on the track itself. The bicycle used for racing is a fixed gear, which means you have to continue pedaling as you proceed around the track. It was quite windy that day, and I was informed that a good time for one lap around the track (400M) is 37 seconds. I breezed through with a cool 43 seconds on the first lap, but was spent by the second. Races usually consist of five laps, with the racers staying very close during the first three and then sprinting to the finish. The scariest part about Keirin was the curved sections of the track around the corners. The slightest movement of the handlebars sent the bike wobbling, and I could picture myself tumbling to the coarse sand and clay mixture below. After destroying my legs with meditation and biking, we took a break inside the locker room and watched a Keirin race broadcast live from another part of Japan.
The following day, I taught English classes in Tama for most of the day. Most of the classes were free talk and general conversation, so I had a blast and met some interesting people as well. One woman told me her job was “eating,” but later clarified that eating was in fact only her hobby. She ended up inviting me to a special invitation-only soba tasting event at a local man’s house in Tamano.
That evening my host family took me to “Cannery Row,” the delicious Italian restaurant in Okayama. I usually stick out wherever I go in Japan, but even more so when I wrote my name on the waiting list as “Ben-sama,” a very unconventional Japanese surname. The Maitre d' did a double take before announcing the name, but we were served just the same.
The following day, Wataru invited me to a rock show in Okayama at Club Desperado. His band, as well as 9 other high school rock bands in the Okayama area attended. Two of the bands were composed of only females; one played Avril Lavigne covers, which I have to admit were terrible, but redeemed themselves by finishing with an excellent Japanese song that I can’t remember but was super-thrilling at the time. The bassist in another band was sporting the largest base I have ever seen in my life. It was easily as tall as most of the girls in the club. He compensated by being an excellent base player, with singing that was not quite understandable yet decent.
Wataru’s band HOOP was excellent, as usual, heightened by the fact that I knew most of the lyrics and there were a ton of people in the club. For the most part, Japanese kids don’t seem to want to dance very much, but a few guys started moving around and got the whole crowd involved.
Tune in next time for the shamisen, accordion, and a little bit of Tsuyama fun.
3/19/2005
Journeys Into The Japanese Arts
Coming back from Tokyo, I thought I could manage a small break from travel. You know, relaxing times. Suntory times. Instead, I found myself with a large pile of procrastinated Japanese homework and a gun to my head (see picture).
Nonetheless, on a relaxing note, I did find some time to try my hand at Ikebana, Japanese flower arranging. My host mother and Haru-chan (Saeki-san) visited the resident Ikebana teacher in Tai for a little lesson in the fine art. It was my first time with any sort of floral arrangement (omitting times I accidentally kicked, clipped, or otherwise dislodged flowers from my mother's garden and feebly attempted to hide the evidence). I found the whole experience rather freeform and relaxing. If you like geometry (like Euclid) you might get a real kick out of Ikebana. And truthfully, the same goes for people who don't (like me). In a stroke of luck, it happened to be Shoko's birthday on March 17 so I snuck into her house while she was away at a movie and left her the Ikebana and a small note.
Yesterday I set up the slackline in the park once more with Amanda, drawing a large crowd of elementary school students. They were quite shy at first, until a few of the more fearless students approached the line and struck up a small conversation with me (mostly in grunts and whistles, broken English, and occasional Japanese). The "leader" of the boys called back to his friends "It's okay, he's not weird!" which gave me a good laugh. The slackline eventually digressed into a volleyball net, but the Tai neighborhood kids are crafty like that.
In other news Neil and I attacked Takamatsu this weekend with full force. Events of the trip will be omitted again to protect the innocent. However, something to blow your mind: last week Neil biked the distance from Tamano to Osaka (about 250Km) in one day. That leaves my vicariously tired and speechless.
Tonite, after arriving home from teaching an English class, I feasted on some delicious sushi from the supermarket. Tomoya, about an hour after I finished the sushi, inquired if I was still hungry. My whole family ended up driving to a ramen restaurant at 10:30PM just to grab some noodles. Delicious, to say the least, but I don't want to see any more noodles for a little while (the pain!).
Nonetheless, on a relaxing note, I did find some time to try my hand at Ikebana, Japanese flower arranging. My host mother and Haru-chan (Saeki-san) visited the resident Ikebana teacher in Tai for a little lesson in the fine art. It was my first time with any sort of floral arrangement (omitting times I accidentally kicked, clipped, or otherwise dislodged flowers from my mother's garden and feebly attempted to hide the evidence). I found the whole experience rather freeform and relaxing. If you like geometry (like Euclid) you might get a real kick out of Ikebana. And truthfully, the same goes for people who don't (like me). In a stroke of luck, it happened to be Shoko's birthday on March 17 so I snuck into her house while she was away at a movie and left her the Ikebana and a small note.
Yesterday I set up the slackline in the park once more with Amanda, drawing a large crowd of elementary school students. They were quite shy at first, until a few of the more fearless students approached the line and struck up a small conversation with me (mostly in grunts and whistles, broken English, and occasional Japanese). The "leader" of the boys called back to his friends "It's okay, he's not weird!" which gave me a good laugh. The slackline eventually digressed into a volleyball net, but the Tai neighborhood kids are crafty like that.
In other news Neil and I attacked Takamatsu this weekend with full force. Events of the trip will be omitted again to protect the innocent. However, something to blow your mind: last week Neil biked the distance from Tamano to Osaka (about 250Km) in one day. That leaves my vicariously tired and speechless.
Tonite, after arriving home from teaching an English class, I feasted on some delicious sushi from the supermarket. Tomoya, about an hour after I finished the sushi, inquired if I was still hungry. My whole family ended up driving to a ramen restaurant at 10:30PM just to grab some noodles. Delicious, to say the least, but I don't want to see any more noodles for a little while (the pain!).
