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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.