Just wanted to make something clear -- I didn't mean to make my post about my host family gripe-y. They're very good people and I have a lot of respect for them. They're about as hard-working as anybody. I really admire my host mom's energy -- not only is she working two jobs, she's also running the house. We have a good time joking around; she's really a jovial person.
As for my host sister, after I finished this post and went downstairs to hang out, she offered to show me her own blog. I haven't had a chance to read it yet -- I'm curious to see what she has to write about. I gave her some of the Whoppers mom sent me and she loved them, so I'll definitely send her a care package when I get back.
I'll miss them when I come home for sure, and I hope to keep in touch for a while.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
My host family!
First order of business: GUNDAM CONDOMS.
And my PJs. On to our regularly scheduled topic. However, I think condoms and discussing my host family are tangentially related. (I'll let you connect the dots on that one!)
So I realized I've gone about three months without talking about my host family. There are a couple of reasons for the delay (see below.) We went on an overnight trip to a town called Magome in Gifu province. Like most Japanese tourist spots, it was a town that was kind of vaguely important a couple of hundred years ago. It's been restored to look the way it did "traditionally". Interestingly, "traditionally" tends to mean during the Meiji Restoration, which was only 200 years ago.
I believe I win the award for hottest host dad. Which is a prize in and of itself. I'm not sure why Nodoka (who just turned fourteen) looks so pissed off in those pictures, especially since she's largely responsible for the dark circles under my eyes (and if you can't see them in those pictures, you will be seeing them when I get home.)
As can be expected after living with a bunch of strangers for four months, these people are pretty damned interesting.
My host dad is a paramedic (he was very insistent on making sure I knew off the bat that he wasn't a salary man.) He occasionally rides a BMW motorcycle, but usually he bikes to work, so I've never seen him in his uniform. A couple of weeks ago he had some kind of training meeting at the local hospital, so he had to wear a suit, fortunately for the rest of the world. The man can wear a damn suit. If it had been Armani, he would've given Obama a run for his money. He's also one of the more intellectual people I've met here -- and he chose not to go to college. Coincidence? You tell me. I think he was a crazy mo-fo when he was younger, though -- he told me once that he used to play pachinko (it's like slots, but more confusing) when he was younger. He was also on his high school rugby team (baller alert!) He grew up in Nagoya, but he's told me several times that he would prefer living in the country. (People living in Nagoya who wish they weren't? There ought to be a frickin' support group, and it would probably be the size of the entire city.) He and I probably get along the best. He can't speak English well but he has a huge vocabulary (in that sense, he complements my host mom pretty well.)
I was worried that I'd get stuck with some asshole of a host dad who was maybe around on the weekends and took his wife's hard work for granted. Well, the guy has been on at least four week-long vacations since I've gotten here, and he usually has Mondays and Tuesdays off. For a while he'd make dinner when it was his day off, but lately my host mom's been taking care of that whenever he happens to get home. I'm not sure how much housework he does, but I've seen him help wash the dogs. He and my host mom talk to each other as if they're actually equals, which is a big contrast from the host family I stayed with in high school. They used super-polite language with each other, even though it was obvious that they still adored each other. My current host parents are a lot more reserved.
You can see that my host dad has a retro '40s style going on. Unfortunately, it doesn't stop at his clothes (which I would describe as Dustbowl Farmer -- this style is pretty popular amongst guys here.) He's apparently a World War II buff. And since wearing a Rising Sun in East Asia is kind of akin to wearing a swastika anywhere else he...has clothing with swastikas? I first discovered this when I opened his cell phone to explain to my host mom how Japanese and American phones are different (he was in the bath) and was confronted with an actor playing Hitler. I felt myself turn white. My host mom insists that he only likes German culture. He also has a camo baseball hat with a swastika and a totenkopf. I mentioned that in America and German, the Nazi swastika means that you generally want to kill Jews and blacks (they know I'm Jewish.) He apologized really off-handedly and I haven't seen the hat since. The creepy thing is that there's a factory somewhere in China or Indonesia that's churning out thousands of these things, and there are people out there who actually are neo-Nazis buying them.
I mean, I totally get why anyone would think Nazis are cool. Thanks, Christian Dior, for making the worst people in history the best-dressed. (I mean, look at the jacket my host dad is wearing.) Also, a flipped swastika is a Buddhist symbol, so I guess I can see where the misunderstanding would come from. I don't think that my host dad is a neo-Nazi, but for a while things were extremely uncomfortable from my end, which is why I didn't talk about the fam in my first few posts. There have been a couple of awkward moments since the Hatgate, but at this point time is so short I'm willing to let them slide.
My host sister, Nodoka, is fourteen. That should some it up well enough. She's a complete otaku (and not in a good way.) My host dad and I were trying to explain the meaning of the word to her (it also means "house"), and I had to bite my tongue so hard not to say, "You know, like what you do." She's a really good artist and wants to be a mangaka. She wants to go to a design high school and/or college, but mom and dad aren't fully behind it. (She also needs to get a damn good score on the high school placement test, and school isn't exactly her strong point.) She can be really sweet when she wants to be, but usually she's just surly and pissed off from school. She's also starting to test her boundaries, which my parents seem to be responding to by pretending it'll stop soon. She also listens to her music really, really loud until really, really late and then sets her alarm for really, really early and doesn't turn it off until it's been going for a really, really long time. And these walls are thin. Fortunately, I got permission from her to come in and turn the radio and/or clock off if she's asleep. But for a while there I thought I was going to punch through the wall.
My host mom's probably the most interesting piece of the puzzle. I talk to her the most but I'm don't really know what she's like, simply because she does the whole Japanese-wife-put-your-best-face-forward thing. She's a manager at a local coffee shop (they only serve lunch) and works as an English tutor at a conversation school. The kids she works with range from pre-school to high school. In other words, she's extremely busy. She follows a sect of Buddhism where the reward for doing good deeds is ensuring your place, your ancestors', and your descendants' place in Heaven. One time she went to a Wednesday night service and when Nodoka asked where she was, my host dad said very dryly, "She's praying for the world's happiness." I can't tell if he thinks it's a crock of shit or not, but for some reason I found his answer hilarious. Since she and my host dad both work on the weekends, we usually don't do too much together (the trip to Magome was a big deal.)
I don't have a curfew and I live within a half-hour's walk of campus. As long as I get to a nearby train station before midnight my host mom will pick me up. Other than that whole sympathizing with genocidal maniacs thing we get along pretty well. I'll miss them (and keep in touch), but I'm also looking forward to getting back to my real family. Only two more weeks!
And my PJs. On to our regularly scheduled topic. However, I think condoms and discussing my host family are tangentially related. (I'll let you connect the dots on that one!)
So I realized I've gone about three months without talking about my host family. There are a couple of reasons for the delay (see below.) We went on an overnight trip to a town called Magome in Gifu province. Like most Japanese tourist spots, it was a town that was kind of vaguely important a couple of hundred years ago. It's been restored to look the way it did "traditionally". Interestingly, "traditionally" tends to mean during the Meiji Restoration, which was only 200 years ago.
I believe I win the award for hottest host dad. Which is a prize in and of itself. I'm not sure why Nodoka (who just turned fourteen) looks so pissed off in those pictures, especially since she's largely responsible for the dark circles under my eyes (and if you can't see them in those pictures, you will be seeing them when I get home.)
As can be expected after living with a bunch of strangers for four months, these people are pretty damned interesting.
My host dad is a paramedic (he was very insistent on making sure I knew off the bat that he wasn't a salary man.) He occasionally rides a BMW motorcycle, but usually he bikes to work, so I've never seen him in his uniform. A couple of weeks ago he had some kind of training meeting at the local hospital, so he had to wear a suit, fortunately for the rest of the world. The man can wear a damn suit. If it had been Armani, he would've given Obama a run for his money. He's also one of the more intellectual people I've met here -- and he chose not to go to college. Coincidence? You tell me. I think he was a crazy mo-fo when he was younger, though -- he told me once that he used to play pachinko (it's like slots, but more confusing) when he was younger. He was also on his high school rugby team (baller alert!) He grew up in Nagoya, but he's told me several times that he would prefer living in the country. (People living in Nagoya who wish they weren't? There ought to be a frickin' support group, and it would probably be the size of the entire city.) He and I probably get along the best. He can't speak English well but he has a huge vocabulary (in that sense, he complements my host mom pretty well.)
I was worried that I'd get stuck with some asshole of a host dad who was maybe around on the weekends and took his wife's hard work for granted. Well, the guy has been on at least four week-long vacations since I've gotten here, and he usually has Mondays and Tuesdays off. For a while he'd make dinner when it was his day off, but lately my host mom's been taking care of that whenever he happens to get home. I'm not sure how much housework he does, but I've seen him help wash the dogs. He and my host mom talk to each other as if they're actually equals, which is a big contrast from the host family I stayed with in high school. They used super-polite language with each other, even though it was obvious that they still adored each other. My current host parents are a lot more reserved.
You can see that my host dad has a retro '40s style going on. Unfortunately, it doesn't stop at his clothes (which I would describe as Dustbowl Farmer -- this style is pretty popular amongst guys here.) He's apparently a World War II buff. And since wearing a Rising Sun in East Asia is kind of akin to wearing a swastika anywhere else he...has clothing with swastikas? I first discovered this when I opened his cell phone to explain to my host mom how Japanese and American phones are different (he was in the bath) and was confronted with an actor playing Hitler. I felt myself turn white. My host mom insists that he only likes German culture. He also has a camo baseball hat with a swastika and a totenkopf. I mentioned that in America and German, the Nazi swastika means that you generally want to kill Jews and blacks (they know I'm Jewish.) He apologized really off-handedly and I haven't seen the hat since. The creepy thing is that there's a factory somewhere in China or Indonesia that's churning out thousands of these things, and there are people out there who actually are neo-Nazis buying them.
I mean, I totally get why anyone would think Nazis are cool. Thanks, Christian Dior, for making the worst people in history the best-dressed. (I mean, look at the jacket my host dad is wearing.) Also, a flipped swastika is a Buddhist symbol, so I guess I can see where the misunderstanding would come from. I don't think that my host dad is a neo-Nazi, but for a while things were extremely uncomfortable from my end, which is why I didn't talk about the fam in my first few posts. There have been a couple of awkward moments since the Hatgate, but at this point time is so short I'm willing to let them slide.
My host sister, Nodoka, is fourteen. That should some it up well enough. She's a complete otaku (and not in a good way.) My host dad and I were trying to explain the meaning of the word to her (it also means "house"), and I had to bite my tongue so hard not to say, "You know, like what you do." She's a really good artist and wants to be a mangaka. She wants to go to a design high school and/or college, but mom and dad aren't fully behind it. (She also needs to get a damn good score on the high school placement test, and school isn't exactly her strong point.) She can be really sweet when she wants to be, but usually she's just surly and pissed off from school. She's also starting to test her boundaries, which my parents seem to be responding to by pretending it'll stop soon. She also listens to her music really, really loud until really, really late and then sets her alarm for really, really early and doesn't turn it off until it's been going for a really, really long time. And these walls are thin. Fortunately, I got permission from her to come in and turn the radio and/or clock off if she's asleep. But for a while there I thought I was going to punch through the wall.
My host mom's probably the most interesting piece of the puzzle. I talk to her the most but I'm don't really know what she's like, simply because she does the whole Japanese-wife-put-your-best-face-forward thing. She's a manager at a local coffee shop (they only serve lunch) and works as an English tutor at a conversation school. The kids she works with range from pre-school to high school. In other words, she's extremely busy. She follows a sect of Buddhism where the reward for doing good deeds is ensuring your place, your ancestors', and your descendants' place in Heaven. One time she went to a Wednesday night service and when Nodoka asked where she was, my host dad said very dryly, "She's praying for the world's happiness." I can't tell if he thinks it's a crock of shit or not, but for some reason I found his answer hilarious. Since she and my host dad both work on the weekends, we usually don't do too much together (the trip to Magome was a big deal.)
I don't have a curfew and I live within a half-hour's walk of campus. As long as I get to a nearby train station before midnight my host mom will pick me up. Other than that whole sympathizing with genocidal maniacs thing we get along pretty well. I'll miss them (and keep in touch), but I'm also looking forward to getting back to my real family. Only two more weeks!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Wacky Wednesdays!
Forget the weekend -- everyone at CJS looks forward to Wednesdays. Everyone gets out at 11:00, and there are no more classes for the rest of the day. Today I went to Osu, which is the "young" area of town. Lots of shlocky clothing and ridiculous shops. Today's results?
I am currently listening to a band called Bullshit. The picture of the band on the disc showed them all wearing cowboy hats and snarling. It was only 500 yen, so I figured, why not?
If you've ever heard the Pixies' "Silver", the entire CD pretty much sounds like that -- punk rock with a country backbeat and steel guitar solos. It wasn't what I was expecting, but for 500 yen I'll take it. A single by a more popular band in that store cost 800. PS - one of the songs totally sounds like "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything".
Before I left for Japan my grandfather gave me a nice chunk of money to buy a kimono. I bought a yukata (the outer layer) in Kyoto and bought the obi (sash) and tie for it today...for significantly less than what I was given (score!)
We also went to a nearby doujinshi shop. Doujinshi is independently produced manga; they're usually about popular anime, manga, or movies. Copyright infringement? Absolutely. Also, the stories are usually "slash" (same-sex erotic pairings.) At Mandarake there was a large selection -- even RPS (Real Person Slash) -- Viggo Mortensen and Sean Bean, anyone? I got a Boromir/Aragorn manga. I also got some souvenirs for a certain Harry Potter fan and a certain Mario fan.
When I asked for the Harry Potter section, the clerk smiled at me in a "Oh -- of course you'd look for Harry Potter" kind of way. Later, when I asked her if there was a section for Disney or Mario, the conversation went like this:
"My friend likes this stuff, so...do you have any Disney or Nintendo characters?"
"Nintendo?!"
"He doesn't like it as porn! I just think it'd be a good joke."
"Oh...well...I think we have some Super Smash stuff this way."
I also found something called "Girls Only" in the "by-and-for-girls girl on girl" section. This was my mistaken thought process: "Well, if it's made by women, it can't be as horrendous as the regular stuff. Might as well give it a go."
After I paid for the book, I joined my friends who were still browsing. I opened the shopping bag and paged through the book (most books in Japan are shrink-wrapped) -- and immediately began to dry-heave. I handed the book to one of my friends. When they were ready to check out, one of my friends realized she had misplaced the manga she wanted, so she want back and got a different copy. As we were leaving, my bag set off the barcode detector.
So not only was I feeling mildly disgusted with myself for buying raunchy, raunchy hentai, but now I had to explain that I wasn't a shoplifter, since saying I accidentally put my friend's book in my bag by mistake. Fortunately, they believed me eventually. Anyways, I'm thinking it's best if I don't go back to Mandarake, but I recommend it if you're into doujinshi or laughing. Or narsty hentai.
As for the book, I "read" it when I got home. I thought I'd give you guys a play-by-play as a joke, but it's actually not funny. At all. It seems to me that the Japanese view sex as an icky but necessary thing (I wish I knew why -- they love eating nato and that shit is like eating baked beans and jizz). So most depicitons of sex in porn (regardless of who's involved) looks a) painful, b) really goopy, and c) is usually against someone's will.
Here's the first story in the anthology: a manager at a tennis club has a crush on one of the tennis players. The tennis player is sleeping with her coach, but when she finds out the coach is also sleeping with one of his other students, she gets pissed. The next scene shows the manager hanging out in the locker room.
Here's how this would go if it were an American story (Mom, Dad, don't think too hard about how I know this): A) manager walks in on tennis player crying, "kisses" her tears away; B) tennis player confesses love to manager, since she realized she's not that into dudes anyway or C) manager comes on to player. They have rough sex on the locker room floor. Maybe with a tennis racket.
Here's how it actually ends: turns out manager masturbates with the tennis player's racket and clothing when she's not around. Tennis player walks in on her and begins to spank her with the racket, then forces the racket into places where manager was putting it anyway. In the end, tennis player becomes manager's BDSM dom.
The next story was even more bizarre.
It's not like the majority of these were necessarily disturbing, it just begs the question: why? Seriously -- who thinks of this stuff?
Guess I'll go back to that Aragorn/Boromir slash.
I am currently listening to a band called Bullshit. The picture of the band on the disc showed them all wearing cowboy hats and snarling. It was only 500 yen, so I figured, why not?
If you've ever heard the Pixies' "Silver", the entire CD pretty much sounds like that -- punk rock with a country backbeat and steel guitar solos. It wasn't what I was expecting, but for 500 yen I'll take it. A single by a more popular band in that store cost 800. PS - one of the songs totally sounds like "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything".
Before I left for Japan my grandfather gave me a nice chunk of money to buy a kimono. I bought a yukata (the outer layer) in Kyoto and bought the obi (sash) and tie for it today...for significantly less than what I was given (score!)
We also went to a nearby doujinshi shop. Doujinshi is independently produced manga; they're usually about popular anime, manga, or movies. Copyright infringement? Absolutely. Also, the stories are usually "slash" (same-sex erotic pairings.) At Mandarake there was a large selection -- even RPS (Real Person Slash) -- Viggo Mortensen and Sean Bean, anyone? I got a Boromir/Aragorn manga. I also got some souvenirs for a certain Harry Potter fan and a certain Mario fan.
When I asked for the Harry Potter section, the clerk smiled at me in a "Oh -- of course you'd look for Harry Potter" kind of way. Later, when I asked her if there was a section for Disney or Mario, the conversation went like this:
"My friend likes this stuff, so...do you have any Disney or Nintendo characters?"
"Nintendo?!"
"He doesn't like it as porn! I just think it'd be a good joke."
"Oh...well...I think we have some Super Smash stuff this way."
I also found something called "Girls Only" in the "by-and-for-girls girl on girl" section. This was my mistaken thought process: "Well, if it's made by women, it can't be as horrendous as the regular stuff. Might as well give it a go."
After I paid for the book, I joined my friends who were still browsing. I opened the shopping bag and paged through the book (most books in Japan are shrink-wrapped) -- and immediately began to dry-heave. I handed the book to one of my friends. When they were ready to check out, one of my friends realized she had misplaced the manga she wanted, so she want back and got a different copy. As we were leaving, my bag set off the barcode detector.
So not only was I feeling mildly disgusted with myself for buying raunchy, raunchy hentai, but now I had to explain that I wasn't a shoplifter, since saying I accidentally put my friend's book in my bag by mistake. Fortunately, they believed me eventually. Anyways, I'm thinking it's best if I don't go back to Mandarake, but I recommend it if you're into doujinshi or laughing. Or narsty hentai.
As for the book, I "read" it when I got home. I thought I'd give you guys a play-by-play as a joke, but it's actually not funny. At all. It seems to me that the Japanese view sex as an icky but necessary thing (I wish I knew why -- they love eating nato and that shit is like eating baked beans and jizz). So most depicitons of sex in porn (regardless of who's involved) looks a) painful, b) really goopy, and c) is usually against someone's will.
Here's the first story in the anthology: a manager at a tennis club has a crush on one of the tennis players. The tennis player is sleeping with her coach, but when she finds out the coach is also sleeping with one of his other students, she gets pissed. The next scene shows the manager hanging out in the locker room.
Here's how this would go if it were an American story (Mom, Dad, don't think too hard about how I know this): A) manager walks in on tennis player crying, "kisses" her tears away; B) tennis player confesses love to manager, since she realized she's not that into dudes anyway or C) manager comes on to player. They have rough sex on the locker room floor. Maybe with a tennis racket.
Here's how it actually ends: turns out manager masturbates with the tennis player's racket and clothing when she's not around. Tennis player walks in on her and begins to spank her with the racket, then forces the racket into places where manager was putting it anyway. In the end, tennis player becomes manager's BDSM dom.
The next story was even more bizarre.
It's not like the majority of these were necessarily disturbing, it just begs the question: why? Seriously -- who thinks of this stuff?
Guess I'll go back to that Aragorn/Boromir slash.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Circles
Again with the circles. I once met a kid whose grand unifying theory of life was that instead of reincarnation, we constantly travel in an orbit. These orbits intersect with other peoples' and when we feel deja vu, it's because we are remembering that instant from a previous orbit. It may sound silly now, but it was pretty impressive when I was 11. This past weekend IES led a trip to Kyoto. I went to some of the places on our itinerary back in high school; I was looking forward to going back. I know that [i]they[/i] hadn't changed, but Lord knows I have.
Here's a picture I took of Kintakuji in high school. The fall foliage hasn't really come out yet, so the place doesn't look so different. Except this last time it was a mob scene.
And here's us in front of Kiyomizudera:
I miss that t-shirt; there's a hole in the armpit and I believe a bleach stain on the side. I guess I could still rock it with that jacket, though. Except the jacket feels to small now. (Doesn't that sound profound?)
So let's see...at the time, I had a massive crush on a fellow named Aram, I knew I was going to go to U Chicago, and I still liked anime. If Cowboy Mouths Voodoo Shoppe hadn't come out by then, it did shortly thereafter. I had also just discovered this band called The Refreshments. Since Tessa, Christina, and I were the only girls on the trip, we were in close quarters pretty much the whole time, and by Kyoto we were starting to lose it.
Now? Well, I can't explain that whole having crushes on guys thing, but I do know why I was so angry and scared all of the time. Part of me misses having that ball of spleen in my stomach that drove me forward, but mostly I'm glad I've calmed down. In college I've managed to make some excellent friends (hopefully they're reading this!), really advance my Japanese (I managed to get myself to a hospital and explain my symptoms -- couldn't do that in high school!); I've come out and I've helped run one of the biggest and most important clubs at Haverford. And my GPA isn't too shabby either. For some reason I've had a giant collapse in self-confidence (maybe I never had it, and the aforementioned spleen covered it up). It'd be nice if I could regain that by graduation, but I'm slowly picking up the pieces. There's no question I've matured a lot over the semester.
There were a bunch of bizarre deja vu moments -- random shops or buildings along the Kamo River (the main river in Kyoto) that I had seen four years ago. At Kiyomizu-dera, I made a point of buying green tea ice cream from the same place I had bought it the first time.
As I left Kintakuji (and remembered leaving it four years before), I wondered what I had been thinking back then. At the time, I knew I was going to study abroad here. But now? I know I want to come back to Japan, but I'll only have so much money and time -- especially as a grad student/teacher. Also, there are so many places to go in the world, and other than Canada this is the only foreign country I've been to so far -- not to mention there are so many places within the states I want to go to.
I'm not so sure if life is a circle, like my friend thought. Maybe it's more like a Moebius strip; certainly we can see how the present overlaps the past, but the future is still twisted. Either way, it's a single unit, and there's no question in my mind that the beginning and the end connect.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Fall Break: Pt. 2 -- Better than before!
Side comment: I ATE FISH SPINE YESTERDAY.
Moving forward.
So much for catching up on sleep over break.
We took the local train to Nara, which is to the south of Nagoya. (For only 1700 yen it was definitely a deal.) The train took us through the real boonies of Japan -- despite how crappy the towns looked (endless rice paddies, abandoned factories) it was nice to see that Japan isn't some kind of Stepford country.
Nara was the terminus of the silk road in Japan and was the capital of the country back in the 790s. Here's an example of how wealthy the city was:
That pagoda was RESTORED in 1719.
As you can see, the weather was not too fantastic when we got there. Shortly after this picture was taken (and on our way to Toudaiji, the most famous temple in Nara) it basically pissed rain. Since we hadn't expected to check in to our hostel 'til 9, all of our stuff got wet.
Nara is also famous for its deer. As in Miyajima, since deer are considered messengers of the gods (Princess Mononoke, anyone?) they're allowed to roam the city (they mostly stick to the touristy parts, though, since that's where the deer food dealers tend to hang out.) Here's one fellow waiting for food in the rain:
Unfortunately, by the time we got to Toudaiji, it was closed. We checked into the hostel early and dried off. The only other foreigner staying there was a Canadian named Mike who spoke about two words of Japanese, so we invited him to dinner. We went to an Indian restaurant.
The next day we got up bright and early to see Toudaiji. The temple is massive, which is good since it needs to house a gigantic Buddha statue. Here's his hand:
Most of the important shrines in the city are lumped together in a large park. We spent our only full day in the city walking through the park. We also climbed Mt. Wakakusa. It only looked like a small hill from the bottom.
This is not a trick of the camera; the hill is actually that steep.
In one of the shrines we had visited earlier, I befriended some middle-schoolers (we taught each other the word for "maple tree" -- or momoji). They were from Osaka, which is known for the yakuza (Japanese mafia) and cheap goods (connection?) Osaka has a special dialect; it's basically the equivalent of a Bronx accent. They taught me "nan de ane?!" which basically translates into "Hey! What the fuck?"
While we were climbing the trail we ran into those kids again. They saw me first and called out, "Hey! Hey! Nan de ane?!"
The ensuing conversation was basically this:
"What the fuck?"
"What the fuck?!"
"What the FUCK?!"
"What the fuck!"
Living proof that not all Japanese middle schoolers are trolls, just the ones exchange students have to live with.
Climbing the mountain was probably the high point of my time here so far. Here's one of many pictures:
Nara is small but it's a really cool city. There are art galleries, independent fashion designers, clubs, indie record stores...all of the stuff a city is supposed to have...unless you live in Nagoya. Or so I thought.
The guest house we stayed at was a fantastic place -- I almost had more fun chilling with the other guests than I did wandering around Nara. One of the women I met was interested in Buddhist art, so she quit her job and published a book on Buddhist statues for the layman. Another guy was an architect from Tokyo who grew vegetables on his terrace. On the second night we were talking about cheap places to stay and he turns to one of the other guests (whom we had just met) and said, "Hey, how do you say 'love hotel' in English?" Winner of the best Japanese sentence I have ever heard.
I felt disappointed when I left Nara since it was nice to see a city with some kind of subculture. After class on Wednesday (we got back Tuesday night), one of my friends and I took a walk around the neighborhood near Nanzan and found a store called Village Vanguard (named after the bar in New York, I assume) -- it's like Ricky's or Hot Topic in the sense that it's pre-packaged counterculture, but the manga selection is incredible -- all of the "indie" stuff that you'd have to wade through the Shonen Jump to find anywhere else. They also have some indie music. So next time I feel like I have money to burn, I'm planning on heading there. All I had to do was look a little harder.
Only five more weekends here...I guess I'll spend them looking for the counterculture in Nagoya. But tomorrow, I'm off to Kyoto!
Moving forward.
So much for catching up on sleep over break.
We took the local train to Nara, which is to the south of Nagoya. (For only 1700 yen it was definitely a deal.) The train took us through the real boonies of Japan -- despite how crappy the towns looked (endless rice paddies, abandoned factories) it was nice to see that Japan isn't some kind of Stepford country.
Nara was the terminus of the silk road in Japan and was the capital of the country back in the 790s. Here's an example of how wealthy the city was:
That pagoda was RESTORED in 1719.As you can see, the weather was not too fantastic when we got there. Shortly after this picture was taken (and on our way to Toudaiji, the most famous temple in Nara) it basically pissed rain. Since we hadn't expected to check in to our hostel 'til 9, all of our stuff got wet.
Nara is also famous for its deer. As in Miyajima, since deer are considered messengers of the gods (Princess Mononoke, anyone?) they're allowed to roam the city (they mostly stick to the touristy parts, though, since that's where the deer food dealers tend to hang out.) Here's one fellow waiting for food in the rain:
Unfortunately, by the time we got to Toudaiji, it was closed. We checked into the hostel early and dried off. The only other foreigner staying there was a Canadian named Mike who spoke about two words of Japanese, so we invited him to dinner. We went to an Indian restaurant.
The next day we got up bright and early to see Toudaiji. The temple is massive, which is good since it needs to house a gigantic Buddha statue. Here's his hand:
Most of the important shrines in the city are lumped together in a large park. We spent our only full day in the city walking through the park. We also climbed Mt. Wakakusa. It only looked like a small hill from the bottom.
This is not a trick of the camera; the hill is actually that steep.
In one of the shrines we had visited earlier, I befriended some middle-schoolers (we taught each other the word for "maple tree" -- or momoji). They were from Osaka, which is known for the yakuza (Japanese mafia) and cheap goods (connection?) Osaka has a special dialect; it's basically the equivalent of a Bronx accent. They taught me "nan de ane?!" which basically translates into "Hey! What the fuck?"
While we were climbing the trail we ran into those kids again. They saw me first and called out, "Hey! Hey! Nan de ane?!"
The ensuing conversation was basically this:
"What the fuck?"
"What the fuck?!"
"What the FUCK?!"
"What the fuck!"
Living proof that not all Japanese middle schoolers are trolls, just the ones exchange students have to live with.
Climbing the mountain was probably the high point of my time here so far. Here's one of many pictures:
Nara is small but it's a really cool city. There are art galleries, independent fashion designers, clubs, indie record stores...all of the stuff a city is supposed to have...unless you live in Nagoya. Or so I thought.
The guest house we stayed at was a fantastic place -- I almost had more fun chilling with the other guests than I did wandering around Nara. One of the women I met was interested in Buddhist art, so she quit her job and published a book on Buddhist statues for the layman. Another guy was an architect from Tokyo who grew vegetables on his terrace. On the second night we were talking about cheap places to stay and he turns to one of the other guests (whom we had just met) and said, "Hey, how do you say 'love hotel' in English?" Winner of the best Japanese sentence I have ever heard.
I felt disappointed when I left Nara since it was nice to see a city with some kind of subculture. After class on Wednesday (we got back Tuesday night), one of my friends and I took a walk around the neighborhood near Nanzan and found a store called Village Vanguard (named after the bar in New York, I assume) -- it's like Ricky's or Hot Topic in the sense that it's pre-packaged counterculture, but the manga selection is incredible -- all of the "indie" stuff that you'd have to wade through the Shonen Jump to find anywhere else. They also have some indie music. So next time I feel like I have money to burn, I'm planning on heading there. All I had to do was look a little harder.
Only five more weekends here...I guess I'll spend them looking for the counterculture in Nagoya. But tomorrow, I'm off to Kyoto!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Fall Break: Full Circle
Monday night: I was in a bit of an off mood for whatever reason. I was stressing out about picking classes for next semester. I was trying to figure out what I'd do for the first three days of break before I headed to Nara with my friends Denise, Linda, and Janai. At around 4:00 that day I realized I should try to pick a date to go to Hiroshima so I could see Himeji and Miyajima, the two places in Japan I wanted to see most (aside from Nara). Also, I had offered to make chili for my host family, but that night they had "forgotten" for the fifth time.
Around dinner time, my friend Mike sends me a text message: "Want to go to Hiroshima with my host mom and me?"
"When?"
"Thursday through Saturday. It's $200." (The first three days of break.)
I mulled it over conveyor belt sushi with my host family, but finally said yes. Over dinner I had an actual conversation with my host sister about independent comics (turns out there's a small convention in Nagoya this Sunday, but I'll be in Kyoto.)
Both Mike and I thought it would be just the three of us traveling down to Hiroshima. Turns out it was actually a three-day bus tour down to Hagi (the southern tip of Honshu, the main island of Japan) and back.
Day 1: Himeji and Hiroshima.
Himeji is considered to be the most beautiful castle in Japan. Want to guess why?
It's especially known for the way the roof curves upward on at the edges and is popularly known as the "Crane Palace". It's one of the few castles in Japan that wasn't destroyed during the Meiji Restoration or World War II and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Next stop was Hiroshima. I had some mixed feelings about visiting the Peace Park. Most of the Japanese people we were with took pictures of the A-Bomb Dome. After working at the NMAI, I've realized that photographs really do take on a meaning and power of their own. Regardless of your spiritual beliefs, it seems to me that a photograph cheapens the experience you had while taking that pictures. Himeji was gorgeous, but I spent most of my time looking for a nice shot.
Furthermore, it really pisses me off when tourists visit Ground Zero in New York. It's not fucking Disneyland; people died there.
Fortunately, I did not have to leave Hiroshima without a picture of the Dome. While I was in the park, a Japanese (I think) guy walked up to me and asked me where I was from in English. When I told him, he pulled out a picture of the Dome and of Sadako out of his fanny pack and asked me to tell everyone back home about Hiroshima. I kept my promise.
The city itself is beautiful. Since it's built on a river delta, you don't have to go too far without seeing some water or a mountain. Compared to Nagoya, Hiroshima feels like a very livable city. If I do JET I might request to live there.
Day 2
The next day was probably the coolest day of my life. First, we went to Miyajima, arguably the most beautiful place in Japan. Mike and I wished we had had more time on the island (there were some mountains there just waiting to be climbed.) Some other time. Deer roamed the island, and the tori that Miyajima is famous for did not cease to amaze.
And that's not even my favorite shot of it.
Next stop -- Iwakuni. A charming (yes, I used that word. I don't really want to believe that I did) mountain town famous for this bridge:
And can boast 100 ice cream flavors:
As if the day weren't already full, we moved on to a limestone cave that was way the heck up in the mountains. At first, the cave was narrow and twisty. There were a few interesting stalactites, but they didn't compare to Howe Caverns or Crystal Caves back in the states, so Mike and I weren't too impressed.
Then we rounded a bend that opened onto an impossibly large cavern. We could see a tour group that had entered before us filing along all the way on the other side of the cavern. I took a picture, but it just doesn't do the sight justice. It looked like my conception of Hell. Which, of course, made me think about The Inferno. Dante as tourist: guided by the well-meaning but long-winded Virgil; stopping and gaping at the regional curiosities; collapsing when he can't take it anymore. I think I could write a master's thesis on that.
We spent the night in Hagi, which is famous for its blowfish. That's probably the most fugu I will ever eat in my entire life, which is a shame because it was delicious. (Don't worry mom -- it's only the organs that are risky! The meat is fine!)
Day 3 - We rushed through a couple of historical districts through towns whose names I never learned, but they were pretty. I'll put those pictures up (along with many more) on Facebook. Most of the day, however, was spent driving north and getting on the bullet train for Nagoya.
I'll write about Nara in the next entry (maybe I'll write that tomorrow) but I'll close with this: as for the chili? I made some pasta sauce and guacamole tonight using pretty much all of the chili ingredients except for the chili powder. For some reason it came out really watery (thoughts, Mom?) My host mom tried putting in some chili pepper and liked it a lot. I convinced her to try the actual chili seasoning and she loved it. I'll probably make it within the next few weeks.
It's always worth trying new things.
Around dinner time, my friend Mike sends me a text message: "Want to go to Hiroshima with my host mom and me?"
"When?"
"Thursday through Saturday. It's $200." (The first three days of break.)
I mulled it over conveyor belt sushi with my host family, but finally said yes. Over dinner I had an actual conversation with my host sister about independent comics (turns out there's a small convention in Nagoya this Sunday, but I'll be in Kyoto.)
Both Mike and I thought it would be just the three of us traveling down to Hiroshima. Turns out it was actually a three-day bus tour down to Hagi (the southern tip of Honshu, the main island of Japan) and back.
Day 1: Himeji and Hiroshima.
Himeji is considered to be the most beautiful castle in Japan. Want to guess why?
It's especially known for the way the roof curves upward on at the edges and is popularly known as the "Crane Palace". It's one of the few castles in Japan that wasn't destroyed during the Meiji Restoration or World War II and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Next stop was Hiroshima. I had some mixed feelings about visiting the Peace Park. Most of the Japanese people we were with took pictures of the A-Bomb Dome. After working at the NMAI, I've realized that photographs really do take on a meaning and power of their own. Regardless of your spiritual beliefs, it seems to me that a photograph cheapens the experience you had while taking that pictures. Himeji was gorgeous, but I spent most of my time looking for a nice shot.
Furthermore, it really pisses me off when tourists visit Ground Zero in New York. It's not fucking Disneyland; people died there.
Fortunately, I did not have to leave Hiroshima without a picture of the Dome. While I was in the park, a Japanese (I think) guy walked up to me and asked me where I was from in English. When I told him, he pulled out a picture of the Dome and of Sadako out of his fanny pack and asked me to tell everyone back home about Hiroshima. I kept my promise.
The city itself is beautiful. Since it's built on a river delta, you don't have to go too far without seeing some water or a mountain. Compared to Nagoya, Hiroshima feels like a very livable city. If I do JET I might request to live there.
Day 2
The next day was probably the coolest day of my life. First, we went to Miyajima, arguably the most beautiful place in Japan. Mike and I wished we had had more time on the island (there were some mountains there just waiting to be climbed.) Some other time. Deer roamed the island, and the tori that Miyajima is famous for did not cease to amaze.
And that's not even my favorite shot of it.
Next stop -- Iwakuni. A charming (yes, I used that word. I don't really want to believe that I did) mountain town famous for this bridge:
And can boast 100 ice cream flavors:
As if the day weren't already full, we moved on to a limestone cave that was way the heck up in the mountains. At first, the cave was narrow and twisty. There were a few interesting stalactites, but they didn't compare to Howe Caverns or Crystal Caves back in the states, so Mike and I weren't too impressed.
Then we rounded a bend that opened onto an impossibly large cavern. We could see a tour group that had entered before us filing along all the way on the other side of the cavern. I took a picture, but it just doesn't do the sight justice. It looked like my conception of Hell. Which, of course, made me think about The Inferno. Dante as tourist: guided by the well-meaning but long-winded Virgil; stopping and gaping at the regional curiosities; collapsing when he can't take it anymore. I think I could write a master's thesis on that.
We spent the night in Hagi, which is famous for its blowfish. That's probably the most fugu I will ever eat in my entire life, which is a shame because it was delicious. (Don't worry mom -- it's only the organs that are risky! The meat is fine!)
Day 3 - We rushed through a couple of historical districts through towns whose names I never learned, but they were pretty. I'll put those pictures up (along with many more) on Facebook. Most of the day, however, was spent driving north and getting on the bullet train for Nagoya.
I'll write about Nara in the next entry (maybe I'll write that tomorrow) but I'll close with this: as for the chili? I made some pasta sauce and guacamole tonight using pretty much all of the chili ingredients except for the chili powder. For some reason it came out really watery (thoughts, Mom?) My host mom tried putting in some chili pepper and liked it a lot. I convinced her to try the actual chili seasoning and she loved it. I'll probably make it within the next few weeks.
It's always worth trying new things.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Atama Ga Gay-jin! Part 1
Dear Rachel Maddow,
I think you made me gay.
Or, at least, you helped me figure it out. I was in middle school when Air America started up. I couldn't help "noticing" your picture whenever a bus came by. I came up with all kinds of reasons as to why I felt this way -- all except the real one, of course. It even got to the point where I refused to look at any ad on a New York City bus. But as the years passed, the discomfort I felt when I saw the ads gradually turned into a kind of pride. As I came to accept myself, your image was a representation of what I hoped to become: someone who was not afraid to be herself and let others know it.
I'm writing to you now because I'm spending the semester in Japan, which isn't exactly known for its thriving LGBTQ community. In a country where the only out celebrities (as far as I can tell) are drag queens and limp-wristed cartoons, I can't imagine how hard it is in Japan for someone in the process of coming out. Shortly after I arrived I saw two 13-year-old girls canoodling on the train. They looked so defensive and scared, I just wanted to give them a hug. Would things be better for them if they had a positive role model to look to?
I'm sure you received thousands of e-mails a day saying this, so here's one more to ad to the pile: thank you for being you -- the more visibility the LGBTQ community has, the better it is for everyone.
Sincerely,
Rachel
I've been meaning to write this e-mail for the past two months and, yes, I just sent it to my [latest TV] girlfriend because I am a dork. I hope it's not too stalker-ish. I felt this more acutely when I first got here; now I'm mostly over it but I will never, ever, ever underestimate the importance of groups like SAGA or QDG again (not that I did before; but now I really appreciate their existence. Even though so many queer folks at Haverford choose [i]not[/i] to participate in these clubs, the fact that we have a formal way to meet each other is invaluable.)
As for the girls on the train, man, were they cute. I'm sure the quadruple take I did when I saw them didn't help them feel any more comfortable, though. But it was for good reason: at the end of the summer, hot pink was definitely the "in" color for guys, so at first I wasn't sure what kind of couple it was I was looking at. Furthermore, PDA almost never ever happens in Japan (unless you're with a foreigner.) But this was definitely not platonic handholding/arm-around-shouldering/resting-head-on-shouldering. I wish I had something to say to them, but the fact that they found each other at such a young age shows their strength.
I [i]think[/i] I've also met a couple at Nanzan. Again, I can't tell because I don't understand how these people express their affection (like in the US, it's not so uncommon for female friends to hold hands.) Nor do they like to touch each other in general -- the other day my host dad was sleeping on the couch and the phone rang. Instead of shaking him by the shoulder, my host sister patted the couch next to him to get his attention. However, I'm pretty sure touching someone else's thigh means that you're more than friends with them, regardless of your culture. Also, one of them has both women and men checked off in her "interested in" section on Facebook. On the other hand, it also says she's single, so whatevs.
Here is a really interesting set of woman-on-the-street interviews from lesbian magazine Tokyo Wrestler (soooooo glad they have an English site).
As for the haps in Nagoya, according to this blog, there are over 50 gay bars in Nagoya. Interestingly enough, Shu's website doesn't say that it's a gay bar at all. But I plan to make it down there; either way, hanging out in a new bar could be fun.
I've also found a certain montly party that I plan on going to. Maybe I'll send them an e-mail and find out where some other places to go are.
In other news, I may or may not have been checking out a girl who was [i]actually[/i] hot (see my forthcoming treatise on the hotness of Japanese people), and I'm almost positive she gave me the once-over, too. Too bad I'll probably never see her again, since there are about 5000 students here.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The Little Pleasures of Life
I guess I'm pulling double-duty on the blogging this weekend.
Last night it was Denise's birthday, so we took her to the Hard Rock Cafe. While it may be mediocre and over-priced in the states, as far as I'm concerned it was completely worth the $17 USD for a Sam Adams (beer that actually tastes like something!) and a gigantic cajun chicken salad. Hard Rock is so hardcore that they even import American Heinz ketchup. (There's Heinz in Japan, but it's different. Some people can't stand it but it doesn't phase me -- it's darker and sweeter; I guess it's sweetened with actual sugar instead of corn syrup.) When I went to the HRC in New York a couple of years ago, they only played heavy metal and annoying indie rock; here, it was mostly stuff from the late '80s and '90s, which made for a lot of nostalgia.
As I sat there looking at all of the rock memorabilia (Elvis's walking stick (???), Melissa Etheridge's guitar, fliers declaring the end of the Vietnam War) I couldn't help but feel proud of American culture. If Hard Rock is what you go by, then American food is hamburgers, Tex-Mex, and cajun -- and who's going to object to that? Even if the Hippies were stupid and self-indulgent, the fact that they happened at all is amazing. Our Constitution invites us to disagree with our government; even though the current Japanese constitution is in many ways more radical than ours (but it was written by Americans so go figure), protest has generally been discouraged. It's not just a "cultural thing", though -- once MacArthur purged the militant right in Japan and released the radical leftists from prison, a viable liberal movement was born in Japan. Of course, these guys were radical by necessity, and it wasn't before long that the US wanted to clamp down on Communism in Japan before it turned into another North Korea.
After I mentioned that we frequently argue with my dad about politics over meals (which seemed to make my host dad uncomfortable, even after I explained we didn't get mad at each other) my host mom said to me, "It must be so hard in America, since everyone has their own rights and opinions." When I brought up the lack of a protest tradition in Japan in my Political and Social Issues class, one of the Japanese students said that most people are reluctant to share their opinions because they don't want to make other people uncomfortable. Another one pointed out that people don't like to protest because it makes them feel like an outsider if they object to mainstream culture.
Call me a chauvinist, but I'm so grateful to be American.
Speaking of which, I managed to catch the end of the Yankees-Angels game. I hope Mom and Dad were awake then; it'd be crazy if we were watching it at the same time.
This morning I slept in 'til 10 (!!). After my host mom get back from her English school, we went to go see a house that's under construction in the next city over. She started to explain to me why they went to look at it (they just moved into this house, so it's not like they're in the market for another one) but we got distracted. I think they just wanted to compare, or something. The construction process was virtually identical to what we did in Habit for Humanity. When I explained how the house would be made they were surprised that I knew. I wonder if they were a little weirded out that I like carpentry? Whatevs. Regardless, I forgot how much I loved the smell of fresh-cut pine. The title of this post is from one of the brochures the development company passed out.
Since the weather was fantastic, I asked if we could walk around a nearby park on the way back. We got drinks from MickyD's (which reminded me why I haven't been to a McDonald's since I was 8) and sat and watched all the kids playing baseball with their parents. One group was a dad, his son and two daughters. They all took turns pitching and hitting, but eventually the girls got bored and started drawing in the dirt. The son (who was maybe 9) couldn't catch his father's hits, and kept trying to tag him out. It made me think of playing sports with Dad when we were little and how much fun it was. Dad, we'll definitely do Spring Training this year.
Side note: if you think k.d. lang is totally hot, feast your eyes here.
Last night it was Denise's birthday, so we took her to the Hard Rock Cafe. While it may be mediocre and over-priced in the states, as far as I'm concerned it was completely worth the $17 USD for a Sam Adams (beer that actually tastes like something!) and a gigantic cajun chicken salad. Hard Rock is so hardcore that they even import American Heinz ketchup. (There's Heinz in Japan, but it's different. Some people can't stand it but it doesn't phase me -- it's darker and sweeter; I guess it's sweetened with actual sugar instead of corn syrup.) When I went to the HRC in New York a couple of years ago, they only played heavy metal and annoying indie rock; here, it was mostly stuff from the late '80s and '90s, which made for a lot of nostalgia.
As I sat there looking at all of the rock memorabilia (Elvis's walking stick (???), Melissa Etheridge's guitar, fliers declaring the end of the Vietnam War) I couldn't help but feel proud of American culture. If Hard Rock is what you go by, then American food is hamburgers, Tex-Mex, and cajun -- and who's going to object to that? Even if the Hippies were stupid and self-indulgent, the fact that they happened at all is amazing. Our Constitution invites us to disagree with our government; even though the current Japanese constitution is in many ways more radical than ours (but it was written by Americans so go figure), protest has generally been discouraged. It's not just a "cultural thing", though -- once MacArthur purged the militant right in Japan and released the radical leftists from prison, a viable liberal movement was born in Japan. Of course, these guys were radical by necessity, and it wasn't before long that the US wanted to clamp down on Communism in Japan before it turned into another North Korea.
After I mentioned that we frequently argue with my dad about politics over meals (which seemed to make my host dad uncomfortable, even after I explained we didn't get mad at each other) my host mom said to me, "It must be so hard in America, since everyone has their own rights and opinions." When I brought up the lack of a protest tradition in Japan in my Political and Social Issues class, one of the Japanese students said that most people are reluctant to share their opinions because they don't want to make other people uncomfortable. Another one pointed out that people don't like to protest because it makes them feel like an outsider if they object to mainstream culture.
Call me a chauvinist, but I'm so grateful to be American.
Speaking of which, I managed to catch the end of the Yankees-Angels game. I hope Mom and Dad were awake then; it'd be crazy if we were watching it at the same time.
This morning I slept in 'til 10 (!!). After my host mom get back from her English school, we went to go see a house that's under construction in the next city over. She started to explain to me why they went to look at it (they just moved into this house, so it's not like they're in the market for another one) but we got distracted. I think they just wanted to compare, or something. The construction process was virtually identical to what we did in Habit for Humanity. When I explained how the house would be made they were surprised that I knew. I wonder if they were a little weirded out that I like carpentry? Whatevs. Regardless, I forgot how much I loved the smell of fresh-cut pine. The title of this post is from one of the brochures the development company passed out.
Since the weather was fantastic, I asked if we could walk around a nearby park on the way back. We got drinks from MickyD's (which reminded me why I haven't been to a McDonald's since I was 8) and sat and watched all the kids playing baseball with their parents. One group was a dad, his son and two daughters. They all took turns pitching and hitting, but eventually the girls got bored and started drawing in the dirt. The son (who was maybe 9) couldn't catch his father's hits, and kept trying to tag him out. It made me think of playing sports with Dad when we were little and how much fun it was. Dad, we'll definitely do Spring Training this year.
Side note: if you think k.d. lang is totally hot, feast your eyes here.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Outside Looking In
I watched a segment on New York City in the news this morning. I didn't have my glasses on for half of it (ask me why I've been waking up at 5 AM for the past three days!) Judging by the exhibits on at the Met I'd say this was filmed at the beginning of the summer when it did nothing but rain. I was a little disappointed to see my home at its wettest and worst.
The segment mostly focused on the Meatpacking District (for the boutiques) and the Financial District.
Apparently the best hamburger in the city is the Corner Bistro. Where the fuck is that?
They also did a clip on street food, which of course made me think of my friends at the museum! They featured the "Rainbow Softee" guy, which I thought was awesome -- the rainbow doesn't stand for all of the flavors he serves, if you catch my drift.
Also, Japanese people are fascinated by the Naked Cowboy.
They also did a clip on New York fashion which, frankly, was fascinating. Because it's just an attempt to imitate Japanese fashion...except Japanese people think it's more fashionable than what they've got. And it's not as well-made.
One thing that really stood out to me is how shitty everybody looks. Japanese people put a lot into their appearance, even if it looks like crap by Western standards. But most of the women featured in the fashion segment had stringy, damaged hair, and cheaply made clothes (by Japanese standards). The fact that there were so many overweight people didn't really stand out to me, but I'm sure it will when I get back. Also, everyone looks so harried. On the train, Japanese people have three expressions: happy, neutral, or asleep. It's very rare to see anyone who looks pissed/stressed/miserable, though I have seen a few. Obviously, the economy is on everybody's minds in New York; I haven't seen too many of its effects here in Japan, but I guess their economy has sucked for so long it doesn't even matter anymore.
Two quibbles: a segment about New York and no pizza? Also, are feather headbands really a new trend? Can you make sure you burn them all before I get home? Thanks.
The segment mostly focused on the Meatpacking District (for the boutiques) and the Financial District.
Apparently the best hamburger in the city is the Corner Bistro. Where the fuck is that?
They also did a clip on street food, which of course made me think of my friends at the museum! They featured the "Rainbow Softee" guy, which I thought was awesome -- the rainbow doesn't stand for all of the flavors he serves, if you catch my drift.
Also, Japanese people are fascinated by the Naked Cowboy.
They also did a clip on New York fashion which, frankly, was fascinating. Because it's just an attempt to imitate Japanese fashion...except Japanese people think it's more fashionable than what they've got. And it's not as well-made.
One thing that really stood out to me is how shitty everybody looks. Japanese people put a lot into their appearance, even if it looks like crap by Western standards. But most of the women featured in the fashion segment had stringy, damaged hair, and cheaply made clothes (by Japanese standards). The fact that there were so many overweight people didn't really stand out to me, but I'm sure it will when I get back. Also, everyone looks so harried. On the train, Japanese people have three expressions: happy, neutral, or asleep. It's very rare to see anyone who looks pissed/stressed/miserable, though I have seen a few. Obviously, the economy is on everybody's minds in New York; I haven't seen too many of its effects here in Japan, but I guess their economy has sucked for so long it doesn't even matter anymore.
Two quibbles: a segment about New York and no pizza? Also, are feather headbands really a new trend? Can you make sure you burn them all before I get home? Thanks.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Street Art
If you haven't had a chance, please read the previous entry. :)
This one goes out to my dawg Blanco.
So Nagoya is the third largest metropolitan area in Japan (behind Tokyo and Osaka.) It is, however, the richest metropolitan area in Japan. Apparently when you tell people in Tokyo you're from Nagoya they'll automatically assume you're snobby until proven otherwise. Case in point: I went to a bakery in Ikeshita the other day that made Fauchon look like a supermarket bakery.
But there's gotta be some underground culture here, right?
I haven't done much clubbing so I can't say for sure, but I've seen a number of recording studios around, so there's definitely a local music scene somewhere. Maybe it's all in the "no gaijin" clubs.
That being said, the public art -- and especially the street art -- in Nagoya is AWESOME. What, you may ask, is street art? It's an artistic installation that's been created without the permission of authorities. So...graffiti that's legitimate art. The coolest pieces I've seen have been under overpasses while I was in a car, so I couldn't get a shot. But here are a few examples:
Street art or graffiti? I have no idea. They were just sitting out by a bus stop a couple of blocks from my house. They're still there. I'm just going to go ahead and assume that it's [i]not[/i] trash because the thought of someone making chairs for those dinky bus stops makes me happy.
This is in Osu, a shopping arcade. There's another one that says "Never Say Die!" that's totally awesome. I'll try to get a picture of it next time.
Not street art per se but a totally awesome mural nonetheless. This mural points the way to Osu.
This one goes out to my dawg Blanco.
So Nagoya is the third largest metropolitan area in Japan (behind Tokyo and Osaka.) It is, however, the richest metropolitan area in Japan. Apparently when you tell people in Tokyo you're from Nagoya they'll automatically assume you're snobby until proven otherwise. Case in point: I went to a bakery in Ikeshita the other day that made Fauchon look like a supermarket bakery.
But there's gotta be some underground culture here, right?
I haven't done much clubbing so I can't say for sure, but I've seen a number of recording studios around, so there's definitely a local music scene somewhere. Maybe it's all in the "no gaijin" clubs.
That being said, the public art -- and especially the street art -- in Nagoya is AWESOME. What, you may ask, is street art? It's an artistic installation that's been created without the permission of authorities. So...graffiti that's legitimate art. The coolest pieces I've seen have been under overpasses while I was in a car, so I couldn't get a shot. But here are a few examples:
Street art or graffiti? I have no idea. They were just sitting out by a bus stop a couple of blocks from my house. They're still there. I'm just going to go ahead and assume that it's [i]not[/i] trash because the thought of someone making chairs for those dinky bus stops makes me happy.
This is in Osu, a shopping arcade. There's another one that says "Never Say Die!" that's totally awesome. I'll try to get a picture of it next time.
Not street art per se but a totally awesome mural nonetheless. This mural points the way to Osu.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Cannonball Pt. 2
So with my typical narcissism, I completely forgot the most important part of my last post: being gone makes me realize who and what is important to me. And if you're reading this, you're more than likely included in that group. I'll see you all before we know it -- for now, just know that I love you! As a certain band from New Orleans likes to tell us: you have to lose yourself to find yourself.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Cannonball
Not that it has anything to do with this post, but you might as well listen to this as you read the post.
Good hook, huh? You can't tell by the lyrics, the song is apparently about the Marquis de Sade (hence, it has nothing to do with this post.)
As some of you know, I was in a pretty bad way over the summer. I guess mostly I was trying to prepare myself for getting ripped out of my normal life and having to start over in a country where I can't even read the street signs (assuming they had street signs. What's up with that, Japan?) There were other reasons, of course, that those of you who know me well understand. Even though I've been here a whole month I still feel very out of place. I felt like I was standing on a diving board, looking at the water. On Tuesday I decided to jump in.
I can't explain what exactly changed; I guess I'm tired of feeling weird (not that the feeling has gone away.) Or maybe my PMS is fucking me over (as always.) But my advice to anyone who's studying abroad next semester is: don't be afraid to get your toes wet! Are any of you who are studying (or have studied abroad) feeling the same way? Or is it different because you're in a dorm surrounded by Americans?
A rundown of my week since I last posted:
Thursday -- I made a new friend! She's from LA and has read some of the same obscure comics that Ceci and I love. Her host dad told her to take some friends with her and meet him at an izakaya (traditional Japanese bar) for dinner. He was a jolly sort -- he and his wife run a restaurant in the first floor of their home. He's traveled to Australia and speaks a little bit of English, and they've hosted many students from Nanzan before. He also invited a woman he met with one of his past students. While in America it would be strange for a 60-year-old man and a (really hot) 29-year-old woman to hang out, I didn't get any weird vibes from the experience. Sexual repression is such a non-issue here (as in, it's not even acknoweldged that such a thing exists) that associations like this just don't seem strange (at least to me.) Take Shall We Dance (the Japanese version, not the creepy Richard Gere one) as an example.
So on the way back from the bar, Dad is quite drunk and takes us down the street with all the hostess club. At first I thought, "Why are all these women wearing kimonos and what are they waiting for? ...oh." Apparently you pick your pro by paying for a bouquet of flowers (a very expensive one), giving it to your lady, and going off. Because buying flowers for a lady isn't illegal, right? Dad plucked a flower from one of the bouquets and started chatting with one of the women. I don't think he was propositioning her; I think he was just saying hello. Fun fact: I also saw a transvestite selling himself!
Even better fact: I wasn't drunk but I was definitely "loose". I got home at 10:00 (maybe 10:30), fell into bed, and took a test the next morning. It was the best score I've gotten so far...maybe I should do this before all of my tests...
Friday -- Hung out with my (at the time) one Japanese friend for the afternoon. It was pissing rain and "Mom" had to take me to the ward office to pick up my "Gaijin" registration card, so Yukiko came along. Yukiko lived in England for six years and has the best accent EVER. After we took care of business we wandered around a mall in Sakae and hit up the local Starbucks. When I got home I watched Peter Jackson's King Kong with "Dad". Incidentally, worst movie ever. Don't watch it. Especially if you don't want to dream about giant wolves attacking you and your host sister at your grandparents' summer home. Just saying.
Saturday -- This past weekend was Nagoya Matsuri -- or the Nagoya Festival (every town has one.) A bunch of us got together to see the (more Western-style) parade. Just as we got out of the train station, the volunteers unrolled some seating mats and ushered us to the front so we could get a good view of the proceedings. Unfortunately, since I was sitting, I could *not* get a good picture of anything. However, there were mini re-enactments of the three important battles that unified Japan under what eventually became the Tokugawa shogunate, since Tokugawa Ieyasu, Oda Nobunaga, and Toyotomi Hideyoshi all came from the Nagoya area. Also, according to the parade, Portuguese people are blonde. After the parade ended we went and had us some matsuri food - I had this thing that was a basically a ham and cheese crepe with okonomiyaki toppings -- heaven in my mouth. After that there was a taiko concert for IES students. Take the awesomeness of the Blue Man Group, then take the awesomeness of taiko drumming, mix them together, and that was the band we saw.
Afterwards we happened to pass by the Naka ward office. A bunch of highschool kids were spontaneous breakdancing in the courtyard, so we of course sat and watched while pounding down some chuhai (a fruity cocktail conveniently sold in cans!) According to my host mom, this is pretty common. The kids like to use the windows as mirrors.
Sunday -- I went on a picnic with my host family! It was some little park (maintained by Lions Rotary Club, of all things) by a river. "Sis" and I took the dogs to the water; unfortunately, Coco jumped in! The water was amazingly cold and I've never felt smoother sand. Thanks, volcanos. I'll post pics once I ask my host family if I can put pictures of them online.
Monday -- It started pissing rain. And after the 80-degree weekend, I did not enjoy the 20-degree temperature drop. I guess that's why so many Japanese people have a bug up their ass about getting sick. I met with two of my Japanese classmates for a group presentation in English. Our topic is the social foment of the 1920s (more on Japanese people and Communism later!) After we were done I had to wait for my bus, so one of the girls stayed and chatted with me. Turns out she likes manga and Bones but is not an otaku (pretty rare in Japan) so we're totes gonna hang out sometime.
Tuesday -- Since I didn't get into the Japanese-language class I wanted, I decided to challenge myself by auditing a Japanese-only course about the relationship between France and Japan (which, incidentally, is not nearly as important as the professor wants us to think). This professor talks ridiculously fast -- even the Japanese students can't understand her. I've decided to use the time for some personal art study (i.e., doodling) since I can get the gist of the lecture and don't have to turn any work in. She ended a half hour early, so I stayed and hung out with the students who have been helping me and the French kid in the class with the lectures. Since he hardly speaks English and speaks less Japanese than I do, the Japanese students have to translate from English into either Japanese or French for him.
Today -- We looked for a cat cafe (which is exactly what it sounds like. Don't believe what you've heard -- Japanese ideas of sanitation are much more "relaxed" than ours.) Couldn't find it. Went to a Turkish restaurant with an awesome-looking menu. And none of it was served for lunch. Walked 20 minutes in the rain to the art museum. It was about to close. Talked about the Bodies exhibit with my host mom and sister -- they didn't really understand what I meant when I said that the bodies are actually Chinese prisoners' bodies, not donors.
Tomorrow we have no morning classes because of the typhoon. I can hear the wind rushing past my window -- I'm glad I'm not outside. Hopefully it'll continue to be crappy until just after 11:00 AM so my afternoon classes will be cancelled, too.
Also, I think I'll start posting whenever I have time, and then do a big post on Wednesday. That way there isn't this giant clusterfuck you've just read. Don't forget to read the article below this -- the Japan Times published a piece about giant Japanese bugs right after I posted my first article! Also, don't forget to remind me to talk about Japanese people and Communism. Oh. My. God.
Good hook, huh? You can't tell by the lyrics, the song is apparently about the Marquis de Sade (hence, it has nothing to do with this post.)
As some of you know, I was in a pretty bad way over the summer. I guess mostly I was trying to prepare myself for getting ripped out of my normal life and having to start over in a country where I can't even read the street signs (assuming they had street signs. What's up with that, Japan?) There were other reasons, of course, that those of you who know me well understand. Even though I've been here a whole month I still feel very out of place. I felt like I was standing on a diving board, looking at the water. On Tuesday I decided to jump in.
I can't explain what exactly changed; I guess I'm tired of feeling weird (not that the feeling has gone away.) Or maybe my PMS is fucking me over (as always.) But my advice to anyone who's studying abroad next semester is: don't be afraid to get your toes wet! Are any of you who are studying (or have studied abroad) feeling the same way? Or is it different because you're in a dorm surrounded by Americans?
A rundown of my week since I last posted:
Thursday -- I made a new friend! She's from LA and has read some of the same obscure comics that Ceci and I love. Her host dad told her to take some friends with her and meet him at an izakaya (traditional Japanese bar) for dinner. He was a jolly sort -- he and his wife run a restaurant in the first floor of their home. He's traveled to Australia and speaks a little bit of English, and they've hosted many students from Nanzan before. He also invited a woman he met with one of his past students. While in America it would be strange for a 60-year-old man and a (really hot) 29-year-old woman to hang out, I didn't get any weird vibes from the experience. Sexual repression is such a non-issue here (as in, it's not even acknoweldged that such a thing exists) that associations like this just don't seem strange (at least to me.) Take Shall We Dance (the Japanese version, not the creepy Richard Gere one) as an example.
So on the way back from the bar, Dad is quite drunk and takes us down the street with all the hostess club. At first I thought, "Why are all these women wearing kimonos and what are they waiting for? ...oh." Apparently you pick your pro by paying for a bouquet of flowers (a very expensive one), giving it to your lady, and going off. Because buying flowers for a lady isn't illegal, right? Dad plucked a flower from one of the bouquets and started chatting with one of the women. I don't think he was propositioning her; I think he was just saying hello. Fun fact: I also saw a transvestite selling himself!
Even better fact: I wasn't drunk but I was definitely "loose". I got home at 10:00 (maybe 10:30), fell into bed, and took a test the next morning. It was the best score I've gotten so far...maybe I should do this before all of my tests...
Friday -- Hung out with my (at the time) one Japanese friend for the afternoon. It was pissing rain and "Mom" had to take me to the ward office to pick up my "Gaijin" registration card, so Yukiko came along. Yukiko lived in England for six years and has the best accent EVER. After we took care of business we wandered around a mall in Sakae and hit up the local Starbucks. When I got home I watched Peter Jackson's King Kong with "Dad". Incidentally, worst movie ever. Don't watch it. Especially if you don't want to dream about giant wolves attacking you and your host sister at your grandparents' summer home. Just saying.
Saturday -- This past weekend was Nagoya Matsuri -- or the Nagoya Festival (every town has one.) A bunch of us got together to see the (more Western-style) parade. Just as we got out of the train station, the volunteers unrolled some seating mats and ushered us to the front so we could get a good view of the proceedings. Unfortunately, since I was sitting, I could *not* get a good picture of anything. However, there were mini re-enactments of the three important battles that unified Japan under what eventually became the Tokugawa shogunate, since Tokugawa Ieyasu, Oda Nobunaga, and Toyotomi Hideyoshi all came from the Nagoya area. Also, according to the parade, Portuguese people are blonde. After the parade ended we went and had us some matsuri food - I had this thing that was a basically a ham and cheese crepe with okonomiyaki toppings -- heaven in my mouth. After that there was a taiko concert for IES students. Take the awesomeness of the Blue Man Group, then take the awesomeness of taiko drumming, mix them together, and that was the band we saw.
Afterwards we happened to pass by the Naka ward office. A bunch of highschool kids were spontaneous breakdancing in the courtyard, so we of course sat and watched while pounding down some chuhai (a fruity cocktail conveniently sold in cans!) According to my host mom, this is pretty common. The kids like to use the windows as mirrors.
Sunday -- I went on a picnic with my host family! It was some little park (maintained by Lions Rotary Club, of all things) by a river. "Sis" and I took the dogs to the water; unfortunately, Coco jumped in! The water was amazingly cold and I've never felt smoother sand. Thanks, volcanos. I'll post pics once I ask my host family if I can put pictures of them online.
Monday -- It started pissing rain. And after the 80-degree weekend, I did not enjoy the 20-degree temperature drop. I guess that's why so many Japanese people have a bug up their ass about getting sick. I met with two of my Japanese classmates for a group presentation in English. Our topic is the social foment of the 1920s (more on Japanese people and Communism later!) After we were done I had to wait for my bus, so one of the girls stayed and chatted with me. Turns out she likes manga and Bones but is not an otaku (pretty rare in Japan) so we're totes gonna hang out sometime.
Tuesday -- Since I didn't get into the Japanese-language class I wanted, I decided to challenge myself by auditing a Japanese-only course about the relationship between France and Japan (which, incidentally, is not nearly as important as the professor wants us to think). This professor talks ridiculously fast -- even the Japanese students can't understand her. I've decided to use the time for some personal art study (i.e., doodling) since I can get the gist of the lecture and don't have to turn any work in. She ended a half hour early, so I stayed and hung out with the students who have been helping me and the French kid in the class with the lectures. Since he hardly speaks English and speaks less Japanese than I do, the Japanese students have to translate from English into either Japanese or French for him.
Today -- We looked for a cat cafe (which is exactly what it sounds like. Don't believe what you've heard -- Japanese ideas of sanitation are much more "relaxed" than ours.) Couldn't find it. Went to a Turkish restaurant with an awesome-looking menu. And none of it was served for lunch. Walked 20 minutes in the rain to the art museum. It was about to close. Talked about the Bodies exhibit with my host mom and sister -- they didn't really understand what I meant when I said that the bodies are actually Chinese prisoners' bodies, not donors.
Tomorrow we have no morning classes because of the typhoon. I can hear the wind rushing past my window -- I'm glad I'm not outside. Hopefully it'll continue to be crappy until just after 11:00 AM so my afternoon classes will be cancelled, too.
Also, I think I'll start posting whenever I have time, and then do a big post on Wednesday. That way there isn't this giant clusterfuck you've just read. Don't forget to read the article below this -- the Japan Times published a piece about giant Japanese bugs right after I posted my first article! Also, don't forget to remind me to talk about Japanese people and Communism. Oh. My. God.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
They read my mind!
Here is an editorial from this weekend's Japan Times (English-language Japanese newspaper) about bugs in Japan. It's kind of odd, but enjoy!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Hajimemashite!
That means "Nice to meet you!" in Japanese. After being here for a month, I am finally inaugurating my blog. If you are for some reason stumbling upon this, I am a junior at Haverford College in Philadelphia who is spending the Fall '09 semester in Nagoya, Japan.
So what does the title mean? Literally, "My head is gaijin!" As in, "atama ga itai!" ("My head hurts!") Gaijin (外人) is a slang term for foreigner. Since it literally means "outside person", it's generally a pretty rude word to use. However, foreigners have been calling themselves "gaijin" for decades, so I think at this point it's become fairly standard to use.
I'll try to update this bad boy every Wednesday. Like most European schools, Nanzan University does not have afternoon classes on Wednesdays, nor is there anything due on Thursdays for my Japanese class, so I get to sit pretty. Rather than write about daily life, I plan to use this blog for semi-pretentious musings about Japan. You know, like every other person who's ever lived abroad.
But you probably want to hear about all of the exotic places I've been to, right? Here's a token picture for you:
This is Inuyama "Castle". Except it's not actually the donjon (keep) . The samurai weren't exactly thrilled when the Meiji Emperor decided they were irrelevant. To quell rebellions, the Meiji government destroyed most of the castles in Japan. We did the rest in World War II. (The castle in Nagoya has an authentic sixteenth-century elevator.) However, this watchtower is one of the few original castle-ish structures remaining in Japan, so it is now considered a national treasure.
Now that I've gotten that out of the way, here is something I would like to address: the monstrous size of bugs in Japan. Seriously, people, what the fuck? Not only have I gotten more bug bites in the month I've been here than in the past five years combined, they get infected and turn interesting colors, something that never ever happens to me at home. Observe, dear reader:
This one comes with a cute story: I finally got the internet to work at my homestay, so I was in my room checking in. It was around dinner time and I hear my host dad call "Rachel! Rachel!" and I reply, "I'm coming!" Then he says in English, "Rachel, I have something goodfor you!" And this was the surprise.
These bugs do not joke around. One day I sat outside to do some homework and when I woke up the next morning I had three bites on my stomach. Also, the best way to impress Japanese people is to catch a bug out of midair and kill it. The more you know.
So what does the title mean? Literally, "My head is gaijin!" As in, "atama ga itai!" ("My head hurts!") Gaijin (外人) is a slang term for foreigner. Since it literally means "outside person", it's generally a pretty rude word to use. However, foreigners have been calling themselves "gaijin" for decades, so I think at this point it's become fairly standard to use.
I'll try to update this bad boy every Wednesday. Like most European schools, Nanzan University does not have afternoon classes on Wednesdays, nor is there anything due on Thursdays for my Japanese class, so I get to sit pretty. Rather than write about daily life, I plan to use this blog for semi-pretentious musings about Japan. You know, like every other person who's ever lived abroad.
But you probably want to hear about all of the exotic places I've been to, right? Here's a token picture for you:
This is Inuyama "Castle". Except it's not actually the donjon (keep) . The samurai weren't exactly thrilled when the Meiji Emperor decided they were irrelevant. To quell rebellions, the Meiji government destroyed most of the castles in Japan. We did the rest in World War II. (The castle in Nagoya has an authentic sixteenth-century elevator.) However, this watchtower is one of the few original castle-ish structures remaining in Japan, so it is now considered a national treasure.Now that I've gotten that out of the way, here is something I would like to address: the monstrous size of bugs in Japan. Seriously, people, what the fuck? Not only have I gotten more bug bites in the month I've been here than in the past five years combined, they get infected and turn interesting colors, something that never ever happens to me at home. Observe, dear reader:
This one comes with a cute story: I finally got the internet to work at my homestay, so I was in my room checking in. It was around dinner time and I hear my host dad call "Rachel! Rachel!" and I reply, "I'm coming!" Then he says in English, "Rachel, I have something goodfor you!" And this was the surprise.
These bugs do not joke around. One day I sat outside to do some homework and when I woke up the next morning I had three bites on my stomach. Also, the best way to impress Japanese people is to catch a bug out of midair and kill it. The more you know.
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