I realize that I have a lot to say for myself. And I'll get there. I've got a 3-step plan worked out:
Step 1: This post will cover the last week of classes and such, up until Friday night.
Step 2: The next post will cover Saturday night, a night that will live on in infamy until the end of days, as well as today, Sunday, which was also pretty decent.
Step 3: I'll give myself a week to stew over my many experiences in Japan and to try and come up with some poignant closing remarks. Then I will post them.
I actually got all kinds of shit done this week, starting on Sunday, when I had a little Grace Church School reunion. I already mentioned that my Japanese friend from GCS, Sakura, came to see fireworks with us. Well, another friend, David, has been interning here all summer at Apple, and a final Japanese friend, Mimi, just flew in last week for vacation. I hadn't seen David or Mimi in roughly a year. We struggled to find a large locker for Mimi's suitcases in Shibuya (her flight was delayed, so she came to meet us directly) and grabbed dinner at some trendy organic-fusion-something place called the Bio Cafe. The air was thick with nostalgia. And then we did purikura.
Believe me, I understand that no one but Japanese girls should engage in that sort of activity. But there was no resisting it.
Tuesday, I believe, was the night of the Yale Club party. A bunch of us went to the Rolling Stones Cafe in Roppongi, where we met with Yale interns and alums alike and had our free eats and drinks. I also got to see the inestimable Engin Yenidunya, President of the Yale Club of Tokyo. Engin is, in short, the man. He's been working in Tokyo for the past four years, although he originally intended to stay for only one month. He's met 1700 people, by his count, in that time, and he even has a Japanese girlfriend. What's more, if you need to know anything about parties, clubs, concerts or fun in Tokyo, he's the guy to ask. He enthusiastically recommended that I go to Ageha at some point during my last weekend. In addition, he offered to join me in doing Geronimo's' 15-shot Hall of Fame challenge. He'd done it 12 times already, and it's pretty easy to find his plaques on the bar's walls. We made tentative plans to do it Friday, after my exam.
If I have my chronology right, Wednesday was when I met up with my friend Anya, whom I met last summer. She's a Polish artist who lived in New Haven and has been studying and painting in Tokyo for the last few years. She's supposed to send me a link to some pictures of her work, and I'll share it if she lets me.
Thursday was the day of very little studying for the final exam. I basically spent most of the day reading comics online. All in all, not the most efficient use of time, especially since Friday's test turned out to be an evil beast with twice the power and ferocity of its midterm cousin. Basically, the whole thing was far too long for the time we were allotted, and some of the stuff on which we were tested was just impossible to remember and/or do. Still, I'm not worried.
Unfortunately, Friday night was pretty tame.
Engin couldn't make it to do the 15-shot challenge, so we rainchecked it for Saturday. However, I ended up going to Geronimo's with some people anyway, and I actually drank quite a bit. I bought 2 gin and tonics and 2 shots, but that was hardly the end of it. Geronimo's has a policy whereby a (drunk) patron can hit a big Native American style drum hanging over the bar and thus become obliged to buy everyone in the bar a shot. I got 4 free shots that way that night. I also scored another gin and tonic by helping the manager of the bar get the door open when he was trying to carry in a case of water bottles. General point of advice: always help out a bartender in a pinch.
Then we went one last time to the bar where that one Yalie worked last year, getting a free shot of Jagermeister and a couple more paid drinks.
Seems like a solid foundation for an awesome night, no? But the two people I was with wanted to get home early, so we ended up taking a train back around midnight.
Also, I forgot to pop a hangover pill and awoke with a splitting headache the next morning. At which point I had to get ready to go give a presentation in Japanese.
But we'll get to that day later. I need to finish cleaning up my apartment and packing.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Nothing to see here
Final exam tomorrow. Semi-final impressions to follow.
We still have a freaking presentation on Saturday.
A presentation.
On Saturday.
Afterthefinalexam.
Is nothing holy in this country?
We still have a freaking presentation on Saturday.
A presentation.
On Saturday.
Afterthefinalexam.
Is nothing holy in this country?
Friday, August 1, 2008
Home stretch
This week, it really hit me just how little time we have left here in Tokyo. I'm leaving 10 days from today, but that's not really how I'm measuring it.
In fact, when I think in terms of days, it seems much longer, because it means that we have that much class left to finish. However, if I consider the time in terms of weekends, with only two left to go, there hardly seems to be a moment to spare. There are several friends here in Tokyo whom I still haven't managed to see, and cramming them all into the space of only four days will prove challenging, if not impossible. It makes me wonder what I did with all of those other weekends.
Then I remember, and I end up feeling pretty good about time well spent, after all.
Last weekend was actually a fantastic one. On Friday, I met up with a Japanese friend of mine with whom I went to elementary school for 10 years. I hadn't seen her in 6 years, when she last attended a reunion. We grabbed some Thai/Vietnamese food and caught up and reminisced about all the funny times and people we knew from way back when.
We also managed to meet up again on Saturday. You see, last Saturday was Random Summer Celebration Day. Honestly, even she didn't know what everyone was celebrating, but the fact is that there was an enormous fireworks celebration in Tokyo, and we had some pretty sweet rooftop seats, thanks to the host family of another SANC kid. My friend's fireworks-viewing plans fell through, so she tagged along in her white yukata. Together with the red yukata and blue yukata sported by two girls in our group, it made for a neat little ensemble.
The fireworks were awesome, running for a straight hour and a half. They took place in two locations along a river in Asakusa. Unfortunately, we only had a really good view of one (albeit the better one) from our vantage point. If you went down to the bridge on the river, you could see both equally well, but there were also about one million people (no joke) crowding around down there. Needless to say, getting back home wasn't exactly pleasant.
Following that, we hit up Roppongi, meeting up with some Yale (summer session?) people in the process. I never thought, all those years ago back in middle school, that I would ever go out nightclubbing with any of my friends. Of course, I didn't have any concept of such activities, so I can hardly be blamed for my lack of foresight.
Overall, another good weekend. However, I've decided that I've had my fill of Roppongi. Thing is, the group I'm with really has little motivation to take advantage of Tokyo's all-night atmosphere. Everyone's ready to call it a day at 2 or 3 in the morning. Compared to last summer, with all those midnight-to-5-am trips to Muse, it's been pretty tame. So, tonight, we're going to explore Shibuya's clubbing streets, and hopefully the change of venue (if not of pace) will cause me to perk up a bit.
Weekly highlights time. Monday, I went to see my friend who owns a traditional shouting restaurant in Tokyo, only to discover that he's still working at his new place in Seoul until the 6th. Bummer. But at least he'll be back before I'm gone. I'm really psyched to have a meal there again.
Thursday, we had an all-day trip (seriously, it was 12 hours) to Nikko. I was off to a great start when I was woken up literally at the time we were supposed to be meeting in the lobby (7:20 in the god damn morning), and I spent much of the day being exhausted and failing to sleep on the bus. Still, the weather was amazing, and the temples were nice, although any realistic person will admit that they're very much of the if-you've-seen-one-then-you've-seen-them-all variety.
What wasn't so run-of-the-mill was the marathon monk we met. Okay, so he only did a mini one-third version of the 1000-day, 40,000 kilometer run through the fucking forest on a mountain in all kinds of weather wearing traditional Buddhist robes followed by not eating or sleeping for a week, but still, that's damn impressive. We got to see him perform a traditional Buddhist ceremony of some kind, and I learned why anyone would want to become a Buddhist priest: to play with fire. Seriously. Lighting and throwing shit into a big ass fire was a major part of the ceremony. It was awesome. Afterward, we met with him in private and got to ask him some questions. Love of fire aside, I was barely awake, so I didn't say much more than "thank you for your time," but he was an amazingly down-to-earth and funny guy, not at all what one might expect of a high-ranking Buddhist priest.
And you thought I was kidding about there being a million people watching these fireworks. This is only one part of the crowd.
It's not easy to capture fireworks well. Usually they're gone by the time you realize you have a really awesome picture to take. Also, I didn't bring my camera, so this isn't my picture, anyhow. I'll steal some more from other people later.
In fact, when I think in terms of days, it seems much longer, because it means that we have that much class left to finish. However, if I consider the time in terms of weekends, with only two left to go, there hardly seems to be a moment to spare. There are several friends here in Tokyo whom I still haven't managed to see, and cramming them all into the space of only four days will prove challenging, if not impossible. It makes me wonder what I did with all of those other weekends.
Then I remember, and I end up feeling pretty good about time well spent, after all.
Last weekend was actually a fantastic one. On Friday, I met up with a Japanese friend of mine with whom I went to elementary school for 10 years. I hadn't seen her in 6 years, when she last attended a reunion. We grabbed some Thai/Vietnamese food and caught up and reminisced about all the funny times and people we knew from way back when.
We also managed to meet up again on Saturday. You see, last Saturday was Random Summer Celebration Day. Honestly, even she didn't know what everyone was celebrating, but the fact is that there was an enormous fireworks celebration in Tokyo, and we had some pretty sweet rooftop seats, thanks to the host family of another SANC kid. My friend's fireworks-viewing plans fell through, so she tagged along in her white yukata. Together with the red yukata and blue yukata sported by two girls in our group, it made for a neat little ensemble.
The fireworks were awesome, running for a straight hour and a half. They took place in two locations along a river in Asakusa. Unfortunately, we only had a really good view of one (albeit the better one) from our vantage point. If you went down to the bridge on the river, you could see both equally well, but there were also about one million people (no joke) crowding around down there. Needless to say, getting back home wasn't exactly pleasant.
Following that, we hit up Roppongi, meeting up with some Yale (summer session?) people in the process. I never thought, all those years ago back in middle school, that I would ever go out nightclubbing with any of my friends. Of course, I didn't have any concept of such activities, so I can hardly be blamed for my lack of foresight.
Overall, another good weekend. However, I've decided that I've had my fill of Roppongi. Thing is, the group I'm with really has little motivation to take advantage of Tokyo's all-night atmosphere. Everyone's ready to call it a day at 2 or 3 in the morning. Compared to last summer, with all those midnight-to-5-am trips to Muse, it's been pretty tame. So, tonight, we're going to explore Shibuya's clubbing streets, and hopefully the change of venue (if not of pace) will cause me to perk up a bit.
Weekly highlights time. Monday, I went to see my friend who owns a traditional shouting restaurant in Tokyo, only to discover that he's still working at his new place in Seoul until the 6th. Bummer. But at least he'll be back before I'm gone. I'm really psyched to have a meal there again.
Thursday, we had an all-day trip (seriously, it was 12 hours) to Nikko. I was off to a great start when I was woken up literally at the time we were supposed to be meeting in the lobby (7:20 in the god damn morning), and I spent much of the day being exhausted and failing to sleep on the bus. Still, the weather was amazing, and the temples were nice, although any realistic person will admit that they're very much of the if-you've-seen-one-then-you've-seen-them-all variety.
What wasn't so run-of-the-mill was the marathon monk we met. Okay, so he only did a mini one-third version of the 1000-day, 40,000 kilometer run through the fucking forest on a mountain in all kinds of weather wearing traditional Buddhist robes followed by not eating or sleeping for a week, but still, that's damn impressive. We got to see him perform a traditional Buddhist ceremony of some kind, and I learned why anyone would want to become a Buddhist priest: to play with fire. Seriously. Lighting and throwing shit into a big ass fire was a major part of the ceremony. It was awesome. Afterward, we met with him in private and got to ask him some questions. Love of fire aside, I was barely awake, so I didn't say much more than "thank you for your time," but he was an amazingly down-to-earth and funny guy, not at all what one might expect of a high-ranking Buddhist priest.
And you thought I was kidding about there being a million people watching these fireworks. This is only one part of the crowd.
It's not easy to capture fireworks well. Usually they're gone by the time you realize you have a really awesome picture to take. Also, I didn't bring my camera, so this isn't my picture, anyhow. I'll steal some more from other people later.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
In which both binge eating and binge drinking take place
Monday was a national holiday, Ocean Day, upon which the Japanese celebrate the bounty of the ocean by going out to do karaoke on Sunday night. I think there were fireworks, too. At any rate, I spent most of the daytime over the three-day weekend asleep in my room, as is my wont, so I have no idea if there were any festivals.
About half of the SANC students spent most of the weekend in Kyoto and Kobe, seeing the sites and staying (in the latter city) with our first-year Japanese teacher Nishimura-sensei. I did not attend, for three reasons: 1) That region of Japan is about 10 degrees hotter and 50% more humid even than Tokyo. 2) The whole trip cost each person about $300. 3) I've already been to Kyoto.
So, I was happy to stay behind. They were leaving on Saturday morning, so we got together on Friday evening to have a light night out. It began with the most amazing meal I've eaten since coming to Japan this summer: all-you-can-eat sukiyaki for about $16. We had 90 minutes to stuff ourselves with as many plates of thin-sliced beef and pork as possible. I even ate some of the veggies and noodles, and, naturally, drinking the remaining sukiyaki sauce like a broth (or, as I call it, "meat tea") is half the pleasure. Now, I'd never had sukiyaki before, but only shabu-shabu, and one of the key differences that I really enjoyed was the raw egg. With shabu-shabu, you cook your food in boiling water and dip it in sauce. Sukiyaki is already cooked in the sauce, and then you have the option of dipping the meat or what-have-you in raw egg. Awesome. P.S. Salmonella is not a problem in Japan.
After that, I bought a flask of shouchuu (Japanese spirits) and we went karaoke-ing for a couple hours. Standard karaoke fun, no need to go into much detail there.
Saturday was far more interesting. You see, a few Yale students have come to Tokyo to do some internships, like I did last summer, and so we went out with them to Roppongi that night. It began with your typically intense pregaming, followed by dancing at 911 (a Roppongi staple for us) and then a quick trip to the bar one of the SANC students tended last summer, where we got free drinks. Now, one of the interns was already pretty drunk, and, though I was possibly too drunk at the time to notice, she became too drunk (yes, we covered this several weeks ago, it's possible) after that freebie.
Thus, somewhere between that bar and Muse, we lost her. I mean, completely lost her. We had no idea where she was, and she didn't have her phone with her. We ended up searching both Muse and the surrounding area for about an hour and a half, all the while becoming unpleasantly soberer. What was meant to be an all-night party was brought to a screeching halt by all of our worrying, and we ended up taking cabs back around 2- or 3-ish.
Turns out, she was okay. Managed to get in touch with her the next day around noon, and it seems that some nice folks got her in a taxi and home somehow. That was incredibly lucky, given how easily it could have gone the other way--drunk girl alone on the streets of Roppongi, a district well known for sketchy foreigners and Japanese alike? I'm just glad she was fine.
Sunday! A couple of us met up with a Tokyo native cum Yale '11 student and found an all-you-can-eat Indian curry buffet for about $15 in Shinjuku. I'd been craving Indian for a while, so, even though it wasn't the most delicious curry ever, the price was right. 15 bucks at Zaroka in New Haven will get you, well, one order of curry, after all. That makes for the second excessive eating episode of the past week.
Wednesday! Finally had a chance to wear my suit. After class, we went to the University of Tokyo to engage in one-minute interviews with the inestimable Professor Koshiba, 2002 winner of the Nobel Prize for Physics. (He invented neutrinos.) Basically, we were tasked with the creation of one question to submit to him. I wasn't really sure how this format was going to work, but it turned out that we all sat down in a room with him and posed our questions one at a time. Some he answered in English, some in Japanese. He turned out to be a really funny old guy. Highlights:
- He had no interest in physics until grad school, when a senior student invited him to participate in an experiment, and he thought, "Huh, this is something I can do."
- He was good friends with Feynman.
- He explained the lack of success curtailing nuclear proliferation with the following metaphor: "Imagine two of you have a dagger, which you can use to easily kill lots of people. And you say to everyone else, nobody should have a dagger. But everyone else is thinking, 'They've had so many daggers for so many years, so why shouldn't I get a dagger too?'" That pretty much sums it up.
- Nuclear fusion probably will not be the next energy source because the easiest method of bringing it about unleashes a shit ton of high-energy neutrons that will kill us all. Apparently he hasn't seen Back to the Future II. Mr. Fusion looked perfectly safe to me!
- He went to the U.S. in 1951 to study at the University of Rochester. While he was on a train on the way there, he got into a conversation with an old lady who had never heard of Japan. That left a lasting impression on him. America is such a big country that it can go to war with a place that some of its citizens don't even know about. Makes you wonder if we've been anywhere other than Iraq recently.
- The universe is probably going to keep on expanding until we all die of cold. Stupid dark energy.
- He used all of his Nobel Prize money to help start a foundation to encourage the study of science in Japan. Now that's just too damn nice. Stupid nice funny old man and your nice funny ways!
Today (Thurdsay) we went to an all-you-can-eat $8 buffet at Shakey's in Shibuya. That is all.
About half of the SANC students spent most of the weekend in Kyoto and Kobe, seeing the sites and staying (in the latter city) with our first-year Japanese teacher Nishimura-sensei. I did not attend, for three reasons: 1) That region of Japan is about 10 degrees hotter and 50% more humid even than Tokyo. 2) The whole trip cost each person about $300. 3) I've already been to Kyoto.
So, I was happy to stay behind. They were leaving on Saturday morning, so we got together on Friday evening to have a light night out. It began with the most amazing meal I've eaten since coming to Japan this summer: all-you-can-eat sukiyaki for about $16. We had 90 minutes to stuff ourselves with as many plates of thin-sliced beef and pork as possible. I even ate some of the veggies and noodles, and, naturally, drinking the remaining sukiyaki sauce like a broth (or, as I call it, "meat tea") is half the pleasure. Now, I'd never had sukiyaki before, but only shabu-shabu, and one of the key differences that I really enjoyed was the raw egg. With shabu-shabu, you cook your food in boiling water and dip it in sauce. Sukiyaki is already cooked in the sauce, and then you have the option of dipping the meat or what-have-you in raw egg. Awesome. P.S. Salmonella is not a problem in Japan.
After that, I bought a flask of shouchuu (Japanese spirits) and we went karaoke-ing for a couple hours. Standard karaoke fun, no need to go into much detail there.
Saturday was far more interesting. You see, a few Yale students have come to Tokyo to do some internships, like I did last summer, and so we went out with them to Roppongi that night. It began with your typically intense pregaming, followed by dancing at 911 (a Roppongi staple for us) and then a quick trip to the bar one of the SANC students tended last summer, where we got free drinks. Now, one of the interns was already pretty drunk, and, though I was possibly too drunk at the time to notice, she became too drunk (yes, we covered this several weeks ago, it's possible) after that freebie.
Thus, somewhere between that bar and Muse, we lost her. I mean, completely lost her. We had no idea where she was, and she didn't have her phone with her. We ended up searching both Muse and the surrounding area for about an hour and a half, all the while becoming unpleasantly soberer. What was meant to be an all-night party was brought to a screeching halt by all of our worrying, and we ended up taking cabs back around 2- or 3-ish.
Turns out, she was okay. Managed to get in touch with her the next day around noon, and it seems that some nice folks got her in a taxi and home somehow. That was incredibly lucky, given how easily it could have gone the other way--drunk girl alone on the streets of Roppongi, a district well known for sketchy foreigners and Japanese alike? I'm just glad she was fine.
Sunday! A couple of us met up with a Tokyo native cum Yale '11 student and found an all-you-can-eat Indian curry buffet for about $15 in Shinjuku. I'd been craving Indian for a while, so, even though it wasn't the most delicious curry ever, the price was right. 15 bucks at Zaroka in New Haven will get you, well, one order of curry, after all. That makes for the second excessive eating episode of the past week.
Wednesday! Finally had a chance to wear my suit. After class, we went to the University of Tokyo to engage in one-minute interviews with the inestimable Professor Koshiba, 2002 winner of the Nobel Prize for Physics. (He invented neutrinos.) Basically, we were tasked with the creation of one question to submit to him. I wasn't really sure how this format was going to work, but it turned out that we all sat down in a room with him and posed our questions one at a time. Some he answered in English, some in Japanese. He turned out to be a really funny old guy. Highlights:
- He had no interest in physics until grad school, when a senior student invited him to participate in an experiment, and he thought, "Huh, this is something I can do."
- He was good friends with Feynman.
- He explained the lack of success curtailing nuclear proliferation with the following metaphor: "Imagine two of you have a dagger, which you can use to easily kill lots of people. And you say to everyone else, nobody should have a dagger. But everyone else is thinking, 'They've had so many daggers for so many years, so why shouldn't I get a dagger too?'" That pretty much sums it up.
- Nuclear fusion probably will not be the next energy source because the easiest method of bringing it about unleashes a shit ton of high-energy neutrons that will kill us all. Apparently he hasn't seen Back to the Future II. Mr. Fusion looked perfectly safe to me!
- He went to the U.S. in 1951 to study at the University of Rochester. While he was on a train on the way there, he got into a conversation with an old lady who had never heard of Japan. That left a lasting impression on him. America is such a big country that it can go to war with a place that some of its citizens don't even know about. Makes you wonder if we've been anywhere other than Iraq recently.
- The universe is probably going to keep on expanding until we all die of cold. Stupid dark energy.
- He used all of his Nobel Prize money to help start a foundation to encourage the study of science in Japan. Now that's just too damn nice. Stupid nice funny old man and your nice funny ways!
Today (Thurdsay) we went to an all-you-can-eat $8 buffet at Shakey's in Shibuya. That is all.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
This is rapidly becoming one of those picture-blogs.
Partly because Alison demanded more pictures of Sachiko, but mostly because I like looking at myself, I'm going to upload yet more photos. But first, week in review!
On Friday, a group of us managed to pull what I believe was our first all-nighter. We drank in the streets, we drank in the subways, we drank in the bars and clubs. Around 3:30-ish, we got in a couple of cabs and headed over to Tsukiji, the largest fish market in the world, to watch the hustle and bustle as it opened up. I'd already seen it, two summers ago, but I wanted the inevitably sushi breakfast that would follow.
Unfortunately, getting there at 4 was a good hour too early. Now, I thought that, last time I went, it was before 5 o'clock, but that might have been because we were on a tour with the executive chef of the Park Hyatt hotel. So we went into some fast-food place to waste an hour.
It was there that we entered that special stage of exhaustion wherein everything seems hilarious. Most of the hour was spent laughing about the purported contents of one of the items on the menu: bracken. For the life of me, I cannot now comprehend what was so funny about bracken, but we all thought we'd struck a vein of comedy gold.
Anyway, after that, we went into the fish market, where the busy fishermen riding around on their bizarre-looking little cars through the labyrinth of ichthyic aliment spared no effort trying to run us over. Especially the girls in their nice dresses and heels. It was quite a sight. Once we'd had our metaphorical fill of fish, we proceeded to have our literal fill of fish at one of Tsukiji's overpriced sushi breakfast places. It was delicious.
Saturday was a little less interesting, but still fun. We went out to Kabukicho, the red lightiest of Tokyo's many red light districts, whereupon we were escorted by what I can only call a pimp to a pretty crappy club. After walking around for a while, we managed to find a neat horror-themed bar/restaurant, which required us to walk through a dark and spooooky hallway that must have made some noises or something, because everyone ahead of me freaked out and tried to escape. I helped the sane among us push the others inside. One of us also had to stick his hands through a hole in the door or something to have them handcuffed before we could be let into the restaurant proper.
The waiters, who wore baggy striped prison outfits, crammed us into a tiny prison cell of a room, which became only increasingly cramped as other friends joined us later in the evening. We ordered various horror- and drug-themed drinks, like some cocktail with an eyeball in it, a row of shots and mixers in test-tubes, a drink inside a big plastic syringe, etc. It was all very charming. I naturally ordered the strongest thing in the house, some tall titration beaker filled with a 50% alcoholic liquid that was probably some variant on limoncello.
Since Kabukicho is in Shinjuku, we were able to walk back home in about 20 minutes and didn't have to stay out all night.
The only thing worth mentioning from the week proper was Tuesday, on which we went to a Tokyo elementary school to learn kids some knowledge. Actually, we were just there to teach them games. After the opening welcome ceremony, during which we all introduced ourselves on a stage before hundreds of watchful young eyes and then listened to the dulcet tones of their (quite frankly amazing) school band's rendition of John Williams' unforgettable masterpiece, the opening theme from Star Wars, we went our separate ways to teach our classes... alone.
As putative "advanced" students, we were assigned the oldest kids, and I ended up with 6th graders. Still, they were good kids. I prepared a Pictionary-variant game for them, and I'd spent precious time (which could have been spent watching Highlander: the Series online) contemplating, writing and cutting out slips of paper with 50 Japanese words of varying levels of difficulty. We did 4 of them.
Turns out, all the classes already had plans for us, which I believe universally involved playing Musical Chairs and Fruits-In-The-Basket. My kids also introduced themselves individually and told me what they thought made their school in particular and Japan more generally so great. Apparently, the school is very clean, with fighting markedly absent, and Japan has lots of culture, food and public transportation. See? It was a learning experience for everyone. We also had lunch in our individual classrooms. The kids were amazingly serious about preparing and serving lunch, with the assigned students dressing up practically like hospital surgeons for the job. During the meal, the kids at my table mostly asked me about what anime and manga I liked. I never thought I'd hear Fullmetal Alchemist be called "old." Damn.
All in all, they were great kids, and I had good time. And I'll never see or remember any of them ever again. Ever. :D
Now, on a more serious note, I've heard concerns that I should take my current educational opportunity more seriously, or at least pretend to take it more seriously on my highly public blog, which is supposedly read by Light Fellowship staff. In response to said concerns, I would just like to note that I am here to learn Japanese (among other things), and I am learning it. You don't need to get an A+ to learn something (and I think I got a B or B- on my midterm, even with my previously noted lack of studying). In fact, I am surprised every day by how much more Japanese I can read on sight. So please forgive me if I don't stress out and bury my nose in my books to squeeze out the extra 10 points. Or, if you can't forgive me, kindly blow it out your ear. (See, I can be slightly genteel, if I try.)
SUPER HAPPY FUN DELICIOUS PICTURE TIME!
Me examining one of the drawings. Man, some of them really sucked. I've got a good one I'm going to keep, but unfortunately I returned the camera cable I loaned, so I can't upload a picture of it just now.
Me, about to start another round.
Introducing myself. Me! Me! MEEEEE!
This is how they serve lunch.
This pretty much underscores how staggeringly different my 6th-grade experience was from theirs. Especially given that this is not my classroom and is in fact filled with 2nd-graders. We're talking major discipline here. Major discipline and concomitant societal tension.
This random delight comes from that Italian dinner we had with our buddies way back when at the beginning of the program. Damn, my hair was short.
SO CUTE! I CAN'T STAND IT!
Family pic.
This might give you a better understanding of the awesomeness that is okonomiyaki. Probably not, though.
Waiting for our sushi and sashimi. That Japanese girl in the front was with us. The incredibly sketchy guy in the back was most decidedly not.
On Friday, a group of us managed to pull what I believe was our first all-nighter. We drank in the streets, we drank in the subways, we drank in the bars and clubs. Around 3:30-ish, we got in a couple of cabs and headed over to Tsukiji, the largest fish market in the world, to watch the hustle and bustle as it opened up. I'd already seen it, two summers ago, but I wanted the inevitably sushi breakfast that would follow.
Unfortunately, getting there at 4 was a good hour too early. Now, I thought that, last time I went, it was before 5 o'clock, but that might have been because we were on a tour with the executive chef of the Park Hyatt hotel. So we went into some fast-food place to waste an hour.
It was there that we entered that special stage of exhaustion wherein everything seems hilarious. Most of the hour was spent laughing about the purported contents of one of the items on the menu: bracken. For the life of me, I cannot now comprehend what was so funny about bracken, but we all thought we'd struck a vein of comedy gold.
Anyway, after that, we went into the fish market, where the busy fishermen riding around on their bizarre-looking little cars through the labyrinth of ichthyic aliment spared no effort trying to run us over. Especially the girls in their nice dresses and heels. It was quite a sight. Once we'd had our metaphorical fill of fish, we proceeded to have our literal fill of fish at one of Tsukiji's overpriced sushi breakfast places. It was delicious.
Saturday was a little less interesting, but still fun. We went out to Kabukicho, the red lightiest of Tokyo's many red light districts, whereupon we were escorted by what I can only call a pimp to a pretty crappy club. After walking around for a while, we managed to find a neat horror-themed bar/restaurant, which required us to walk through a dark and spooooky hallway that must have made some noises or something, because everyone ahead of me freaked out and tried to escape. I helped the sane among us push the others inside. One of us also had to stick his hands through a hole in the door or something to have them handcuffed before we could be let into the restaurant proper.
The waiters, who wore baggy striped prison outfits, crammed us into a tiny prison cell of a room, which became only increasingly cramped as other friends joined us later in the evening. We ordered various horror- and drug-themed drinks, like some cocktail with an eyeball in it, a row of shots and mixers in test-tubes, a drink inside a big plastic syringe, etc. It was all very charming. I naturally ordered the strongest thing in the house, some tall titration beaker filled with a 50% alcoholic liquid that was probably some variant on limoncello.
Since Kabukicho is in Shinjuku, we were able to walk back home in about 20 minutes and didn't have to stay out all night.
The only thing worth mentioning from the week proper was Tuesday, on which we went to a Tokyo elementary school to learn kids some knowledge. Actually, we were just there to teach them games. After the opening welcome ceremony, during which we all introduced ourselves on a stage before hundreds of watchful young eyes and then listened to the dulcet tones of their (quite frankly amazing) school band's rendition of John Williams' unforgettable masterpiece, the opening theme from Star Wars, we went our separate ways to teach our classes... alone.
As putative "advanced" students, we were assigned the oldest kids, and I ended up with 6th graders. Still, they were good kids. I prepared a Pictionary-variant game for them, and I'd spent precious time (which could have been spent watching Highlander: the Series online) contemplating, writing and cutting out slips of paper with 50 Japanese words of varying levels of difficulty. We did 4 of them.
Turns out, all the classes already had plans for us, which I believe universally involved playing Musical Chairs and Fruits-In-The-Basket. My kids also introduced themselves individually and told me what they thought made their school in particular and Japan more generally so great. Apparently, the school is very clean, with fighting markedly absent, and Japan has lots of culture, food and public transportation. See? It was a learning experience for everyone. We also had lunch in our individual classrooms. The kids were amazingly serious about preparing and serving lunch, with the assigned students dressing up practically like hospital surgeons for the job. During the meal, the kids at my table mostly asked me about what anime and manga I liked. I never thought I'd hear Fullmetal Alchemist be called "old." Damn.
All in all, they were great kids, and I had good time. And I'll never see or remember any of them ever again. Ever. :D
Now, on a more serious note, I've heard concerns that I should take my current educational opportunity more seriously, or at least pretend to take it more seriously on my highly public blog, which is supposedly read by Light Fellowship staff. In response to said concerns, I would just like to note that I am here to learn Japanese (among other things), and I am learning it. You don't need to get an A+ to learn something (and I think I got a B or B- on my midterm, even with my previously noted lack of studying). In fact, I am surprised every day by how much more Japanese I can read on sight. So please forgive me if I don't stress out and bury my nose in my books to squeeze out the extra 10 points. Or, if you can't forgive me, kindly blow it out your ear. (See, I can be slightly genteel, if I try.)
SUPER HAPPY FUN DELICIOUS PICTURE TIME!
Me examining one of the drawings. Man, some of them really sucked. I've got a good one I'm going to keep, but unfortunately I returned the camera cable I loaned, so I can't upload a picture of it just now.
Me, about to start another round.
Introducing myself. Me! Me! MEEEEE!
This is how they serve lunch.
This pretty much underscores how staggeringly different my 6th-grade experience was from theirs. Especially given that this is not my classroom and is in fact filled with 2nd-graders. We're talking major discipline here. Major discipline and concomitant societal tension.
This random delight comes from that Italian dinner we had with our buddies way back when at the beginning of the program. Damn, my hair was short.
SO CUTE! I CAN'T STAND IT!
Family pic.
This might give you a better understanding of the awesomeness that is okonomiyaki. Probably not, though.
Waiting for our sushi and sashimi. That Japanese girl in the front was with us. The incredibly sketchy guy in the back was most decidedly not.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Whoa! We're half way there!
Whoa-oh! Livin' on a prayer!
Bon Joviness aside, we just had our midterm exams, officially putting us halfway through the program. Honestly, I completely phoned it in this week, and I think that the feeling was shared by many of my classmates. Especially during news class, where we were all basically falling asleep the entire time. The radio-listening portion of the class, in particular, is a real snoozer. It's almost impossible to understand the NHK announcer, even after listening to him say the same thing several times, and, when the sensei asks us questions, we sort of stammer something generic with blank looks on our faces and let her fill in the rest of our sentences while we nod along as though it were exactly what we had planned to say.
It didn't help that I got a migraine on Wednesday. How do I know I got a migraine? Day-long headache, photophobia plus nausea equals migraine. It happens to me rarely enough that I can't remember the last time I had one, but they always suck. I took the day off and spent it in the dark feeling sorry for myself.
But even if that hadn't occurred, and even if newspaper class (which I unfortunately did not get to miss) were not a chore at times, this still would've been a highly unmotivated week for me. I think it started to dawn on me on Monday that I've essentially given up my entire summer to school, and I was none too happy with the realization. So, for the midterm exam, I really couldn't bring myself to study. After all, my grades here don't factor into my GPA, so what's the point in busting my ass for the A when cruising along with a B will do? Hell, I think I only need a C or C+ to get credit. So, last night, instead of staying up late cramming, I went to bed at 11 and slept for a solid 7 hours. Instead of bringing my materials with me to review on the bus and during the breaks between test sections, I brought my iPod Shuffle. I just sort of chilled.
Frankly, I felt kind of like the Dude, abiding.
Anyway, I think it was all for the best, because the exam wasn't the genitalia-inverting horror that I believe we all expected.
Last weekend, on Saturday, we had to get up at the butt-crack of dawn (well, close enough) to go to Kamakura (again) to see the Tsurugaokahachimonguu Shrine (again) and eat okonomiyaki (again). Well, all those "again"s were just for me, since I'd been there before for my homestay. There were at least as many Japanese buddies there as there were Yale students, as well, but the real highlight of the trip--for everyone--was that my host family managed to swing by and walk with us for a while! Atsuko-san drove over with Marichan and Sacchan, and their cuteness was admired by all.
No one ever would have guessed that cute little Mariko kicked a church during my homestay. It was great. We were walking along, and she was practicing ballet kicks against random walls on the street, when I hear her mother say, in Japanese, "you shouldn't kick churches." I look back, and, sure enough, there's a building with a huge cross slapped on its side. Mariko's response: "what's a church?" She didn't know the Japanese word for church. Or possibly even the concept. I think that's just awesome. How many countries are there in the world that Christianity never really got its greedy mitts on, discounting the Islamic and Communist ones?
Two, I guess, if you count Israel. Still, Japan has its own style of fucked up. So does Israel, but that's neither here nor there.
Hopefully, this adorable church-kicking family will be able to come to Tokyo some time in the next month.
Anyway, I promised more pictures, and here they are! Atsuko-san sent me pictures she took during my homestay, and I've also uploaded some pictures of my apartment.
Making a children maki roll: before.
Children maki roll: after.
Unwrapping! My hand looks giant.
The triple-sibling specialty roll was a real family favorite.
These kids hate walking. Maritan actually rode on my back for most of the time when she visited us all in Kamakura last weekend.
At the okonomiyaki place.
I'm really not good for much else, apparently.
Mariko made a face in her ice-cream. When I pronounced it an "aisu-jin"--literally "ice(cream) person"--the kids became ecstatic with glee. I think that the Japanese generally find foreigners playing with their language incredibly amusing and unexpected. I like to do it fairly frequently, and I usually get a good reaction.
Pensive. And messy.
A closet entirely devoted to shoes (and a tiny fire extinguisher) welcomes me home every day.
My room right after I moved in. The table is about twenty times more cluttered, now.
View from the balcony.
Part of the balcony, with the hang-drying bar and a machine that I think might be capable of producing hot air. I still haven't dared to touch it.
Another view of my room and the narrow little hallway leading outside.
The kitchenette lines one side of that hallway.
Bathroom.
Hello, robot toilet!
This washer-dryer may look very convenient, but you can dry your clothes for three hours and still come out with damp socks. They really love hang-drying here. Scary thing is, I've started to like it, too.
Also, I promised to link to another blog with photos from the night our Yale Japanese senseis took us out to dinner.
Bon Joviness aside, we just had our midterm exams, officially putting us halfway through the program. Honestly, I completely phoned it in this week, and I think that the feeling was shared by many of my classmates. Especially during news class, where we were all basically falling asleep the entire time. The radio-listening portion of the class, in particular, is a real snoozer. It's almost impossible to understand the NHK announcer, even after listening to him say the same thing several times, and, when the sensei asks us questions, we sort of stammer something generic with blank looks on our faces and let her fill in the rest of our sentences while we nod along as though it were exactly what we had planned to say.
It didn't help that I got a migraine on Wednesday. How do I know I got a migraine? Day-long headache, photophobia plus nausea equals migraine. It happens to me rarely enough that I can't remember the last time I had one, but they always suck. I took the day off and spent it in the dark feeling sorry for myself.
But even if that hadn't occurred, and even if newspaper class (which I unfortunately did not get to miss) were not a chore at times, this still would've been a highly unmotivated week for me. I think it started to dawn on me on Monday that I've essentially given up my entire summer to school, and I was none too happy with the realization. So, for the midterm exam, I really couldn't bring myself to study. After all, my grades here don't factor into my GPA, so what's the point in busting my ass for the A when cruising along with a B will do? Hell, I think I only need a C or C+ to get credit. So, last night, instead of staying up late cramming, I went to bed at 11 and slept for a solid 7 hours. Instead of bringing my materials with me to review on the bus and during the breaks between test sections, I brought my iPod Shuffle. I just sort of chilled.
Frankly, I felt kind of like the Dude, abiding.
Anyway, I think it was all for the best, because the exam wasn't the genitalia-inverting horror that I believe we all expected.
Last weekend, on Saturday, we had to get up at the butt-crack of dawn (well, close enough) to go to Kamakura (again) to see the Tsurugaokahachimonguu Shrine (again) and eat okonomiyaki (again). Well, all those "again"s were just for me, since I'd been there before for my homestay. There were at least as many Japanese buddies there as there were Yale students, as well, but the real highlight of the trip--for everyone--was that my host family managed to swing by and walk with us for a while! Atsuko-san drove over with Marichan and Sacchan, and their cuteness was admired by all.
No one ever would have guessed that cute little Mariko kicked a church during my homestay. It was great. We were walking along, and she was practicing ballet kicks against random walls on the street, when I hear her mother say, in Japanese, "you shouldn't kick churches." I look back, and, sure enough, there's a building with a huge cross slapped on its side. Mariko's response: "what's a church?" She didn't know the Japanese word for church. Or possibly even the concept. I think that's just awesome. How many countries are there in the world that Christianity never really got its greedy mitts on, discounting the Islamic and Communist ones?
Two, I guess, if you count Israel. Still, Japan has its own style of fucked up. So does Israel, but that's neither here nor there.
Hopefully, this adorable church-kicking family will be able to come to Tokyo some time in the next month.
Anyway, I promised more pictures, and here they are! Atsuko-san sent me pictures she took during my homestay, and I've also uploaded some pictures of my apartment.
Making a children maki roll: before.
Children maki roll: after.
Unwrapping! My hand looks giant.
The triple-sibling specialty roll was a real family favorite.
These kids hate walking. Maritan actually rode on my back for most of the time when she visited us all in Kamakura last weekend.
At the okonomiyaki place.
I'm really not good for much else, apparently.
Mariko made a face in her ice-cream. When I pronounced it an "aisu-jin"--literally "ice(cream) person"--the kids became ecstatic with glee. I think that the Japanese generally find foreigners playing with their language incredibly amusing and unexpected. I like to do it fairly frequently, and I usually get a good reaction.
Pensive. And messy.
A closet entirely devoted to shoes (and a tiny fire extinguisher) welcomes me home every day.
My room right after I moved in. The table is about twenty times more cluttered, now.
View from the balcony.
Part of the balcony, with the hang-drying bar and a machine that I think might be capable of producing hot air. I still haven't dared to touch it.
Another view of my room and the narrow little hallway leading outside.
The kitchenette lines one side of that hallway.
Bathroom.
Hello, robot toilet!
This washer-dryer may look very convenient, but you can dry your clothes for three hours and still come out with damp socks. They really love hang-drying here. Scary thing is, I've started to like it, too.
Also, I promised to link to another blog with photos from the night our Yale Japanese senseis took us out to dinner.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Several thousand words
No, I'm not actually going to write several thousand words, even though it has been a while since I blogged and I have a lot of ground to cover.
However, I finally uploaded some pictures, each of which is worth--or so I am told--ten hundred distinct linguistic units.
Now to run through the past several days:
The weekend in Kamakura was great, especially thanks to the kids--to review, the girls are Mariko (7) and Sachiko (3) and the boy is Taiki (10). They were really energetic, or 元気 (genki) as we say in Japanese, especially the youngest, who had a habit of turning on a practice song on an electric piano, ramping up the tempo to maximum and then running around in circles screaming "Hayai! Hayai!" ("Fast! Fast!")
On Saturday I went to visit the school attended by the older two kids, with Sachiko and her mother (Atsuko-san) of course. No, they don't normally have school on Saturday, except for Taiki, who very frequently has cram school, but I managed to show up on the one Saturday that has a half-day of classes set up so that working parents can come visit and see what school is all about. (Hint: it involves indoor slippers far too small to fit any gaijin male's feet adequately.) After that, we went to a Shinto shrine, the description of which I shall skip, then to eat okonomiyaki, which to the uninitiated I can describe only as "do-it-yourself omelet-cakes with extra awesome." We also ate soufutokuriimu, AKA soft-serve ice cream. I got a twist of vanilla and green tea. We then visited a Zen Buddhist temple in a bamboo forest.
Home time was a mixture of playing Wii Sports, wrapping up the kids like sushi rolls in a blanket (Atsuko-san will send me the pictures by the end of the week), carrying and swinging them around, etc. Basically all the things you would want to do if you were suddenly in the presence of a friendly and accommodating giant who could pick you up with one hand. They tired me out, but it was great. Their father was able to come home that night. I'm not sure what I expected, but he was very warm, if a little quiet.
On Sunday, I mostly played around with the kids some more, and we visited a few more shrines before we all drove together to the train station. As fate would have it, SANC is taking us to Kamakura again on Sunday, so I should have a chance to see them again. I really hope that I do.
Some of the things that Atsuko-san cooked over the course of the weekend: cheese-toast with egg and bacon, curry and rice, tempura, soba, and lots more stuff I can't remember! Too bad Daniel wasn't there, or I'd have a complete and detailed list, down to the seasoning on each dish.
Okay, okay, I want to get to the pictures, too, but I have one more important thing to mention. On Tuesday, Yale senseis Murata and Stever showed up to take us out to dinner with Light Fellowship money. We went to a nice restaurant in Shinjuku and went nuts with a tasting menu and extra courses a la carte, not to mention beverages including $100 bottles of champagne. Doumo arigatou, Mr. Light(-ato). I didn't bring my camera, but a couple of the other bloggers photographed every single course, so I'll link to those posts later.
PICTURES!
Sachiko! Alison wants one as a souvenir from Japan.
Too bad! She's mine!
Family shot. Mariko's face looks a bit weird, but I have a better photo from the Zen garden later:
I actually took quite a few pictures of that Zen garden. Zen gardens kick ass (but they do not dwell on this fact, instead enjoying each ephemeral moment of ass-kicking as it passes into the next).
And some of the bamboo:
Oh, yeah, and we saw a wedding at the shrine. Nice hat, lady:
Dude looks badass, though. I'm definitely rocking haorihakama at my wedding.
The kids also made me some postcards shortly before I left:
The top left is Mariko's, depicting an aquarium (they own several), some grapes, and apparently me. It says "Goodbye David-san, please come again!!"
The top right is Taiki's, depicting Wii Tennis. It reads "Thank you for the past 3 days. I hope we can meet again."
The bottom two were hand-drawn with love by Sachiko, with Atsuko-san writing in her name and "Please visit again." I think the first was supposed to represent strawberries, and I have no idea about the second. Perfectly adorable, though.
Speaking of which, why don't we top this post off with a couple more photos of darling Satchan, just to reinforce how cute Asian children are?
Revel in the cuteness, dear readers. Revel! And exult! Excelsior!
However, I finally uploaded some pictures, each of which is worth--or so I am told--ten hundred distinct linguistic units.
Now to run through the past several days:
The weekend in Kamakura was great, especially thanks to the kids--to review, the girls are Mariko (7) and Sachiko (3) and the boy is Taiki (10). They were really energetic, or 元気 (genki) as we say in Japanese, especially the youngest, who had a habit of turning on a practice song on an electric piano, ramping up the tempo to maximum and then running around in circles screaming "Hayai! Hayai!" ("Fast! Fast!")
On Saturday I went to visit the school attended by the older two kids, with Sachiko and her mother (Atsuko-san) of course. No, they don't normally have school on Saturday, except for Taiki, who very frequently has cram school, but I managed to show up on the one Saturday that has a half-day of classes set up so that working parents can come visit and see what school is all about. (Hint: it involves indoor slippers far too small to fit any gaijin male's feet adequately.) After that, we went to a Shinto shrine, the description of which I shall skip, then to eat okonomiyaki, which to the uninitiated I can describe only as "do-it-yourself omelet-cakes with extra awesome." We also ate soufutokuriimu, AKA soft-serve ice cream. I got a twist of vanilla and green tea. We then visited a Zen Buddhist temple in a bamboo forest.
Home time was a mixture of playing Wii Sports, wrapping up the kids like sushi rolls in a blanket (Atsuko-san will send me the pictures by the end of the week), carrying and swinging them around, etc. Basically all the things you would want to do if you were suddenly in the presence of a friendly and accommodating giant who could pick you up with one hand. They tired me out, but it was great. Their father was able to come home that night. I'm not sure what I expected, but he was very warm, if a little quiet.
On Sunday, I mostly played around with the kids some more, and we visited a few more shrines before we all drove together to the train station. As fate would have it, SANC is taking us to Kamakura again on Sunday, so I should have a chance to see them again. I really hope that I do.
Some of the things that Atsuko-san cooked over the course of the weekend: cheese-toast with egg and bacon, curry and rice, tempura, soba, and lots more stuff I can't remember! Too bad Daniel wasn't there, or I'd have a complete and detailed list, down to the seasoning on each dish.
Okay, okay, I want to get to the pictures, too, but I have one more important thing to mention. On Tuesday, Yale senseis Murata and Stever showed up to take us out to dinner with Light Fellowship money. We went to a nice restaurant in Shinjuku and went nuts with a tasting menu and extra courses a la carte, not to mention beverages including $100 bottles of champagne. Doumo arigatou, Mr. Light(-ato). I didn't bring my camera, but a couple of the other bloggers photographed every single course, so I'll link to those posts later.
PICTURES!
Sachiko! Alison wants one as a souvenir from Japan.
Too bad! She's mine!
Family shot. Mariko's face looks a bit weird, but I have a better photo from the Zen garden later:
I actually took quite a few pictures of that Zen garden. Zen gardens kick ass (but they do not dwell on this fact, instead enjoying each ephemeral moment of ass-kicking as it passes into the next).
And some of the bamboo:
Oh, yeah, and we saw a wedding at the shrine. Nice hat, lady:
Dude looks badass, though. I'm definitely rocking haorihakama at my wedding.
The kids also made me some postcards shortly before I left:
The top left is Mariko's, depicting an aquarium (they own several), some grapes, and apparently me. It says "Goodbye David-san, please come again!!"
The top right is Taiki's, depicting Wii Tennis. It reads "Thank you for the past 3 days. I hope we can meet again."
The bottom two were hand-drawn with love by Sachiko, with Atsuko-san writing in her name and "Please visit again." I think the first was supposed to represent strawberries, and I have no idea about the second. Perfectly adorable, though.
Speaking of which, why don't we top this post off with a couple more photos of darling Satchan, just to reinforce how cute Asian children are?
Revel in the cuteness, dear readers. Revel! And exult! Excelsior!
Friday, June 27, 2008
You win this round, SANC
Fine. The homestay program won me over using incredibly cute Japanese kids and the magic of Wii Sports. If that's not fighting dirty, I don't know what is.
I'll briefly recap the last three hours here.
I left class at 1 to buy a ticket for my 1:50 train to Kamakura. After a lot of wandering around the first floor and basement of Shibuya Station, I also managed to find a liquor store, where I bought a nice bottle of Chardonnay. Had to make up for not having a souvenir from America and/or Yale somehow. Turned out it was a good choice, since the husband (whom I have not yet met) apparently likes white wine. I just figured that Japanese diet consists mostly of fish, and my extremely limited knowledge of winery finery includes the fact that fish and white wine go together like me and a flask full of cheap convenience store vodka.
Rode the train for about 50 minutes to Kamakura. Most of that time was spent under the malicious gaze of a middle-aged Japanese man across the car from me. I guess I was looking all lone-male-gaijin dangerous again.
My host mother, Katou Atsuko-san, called me on my cell after I arrived, and it turned out that she was right there at the same exit I was. I got out and met her and her adorable daughters, Mariko (7) and Sachiko (3). There's a 9-year-old son somewhere, but he hasn't been around yet. The father of the family will be at work late and probably won't return until 9pm. Atsuko-san and I spoke entirely in Japanese during the short car drive to the house. They know about the language pledge! But it seems to be working out, anyhow. I can't understand Sachiko at all, but, sometimes, neither can her mother. She's extremely energetic and excitable. Mariko and I played some Wii Tennis and Boxing. I learned that I haven't lost my touch at Tennis (デービッドやっぱ強いよ！）, but I'm still no good at Boxing. She was kicking my keister, until I somehow beat her at the very end, despite going down for a 9-count twice in a row.
Anyway, they just left to take Mariko to her ballet lesson, so I decided to check my mail and blog. I'll write a full update on Monday.
バイバイ
I'll briefly recap the last three hours here.
I left class at 1 to buy a ticket for my 1:50 train to Kamakura. After a lot of wandering around the first floor and basement of Shibuya Station, I also managed to find a liquor store, where I bought a nice bottle of Chardonnay. Had to make up for not having a souvenir from America and/or Yale somehow. Turned out it was a good choice, since the husband (whom I have not yet met) apparently likes white wine. I just figured that Japanese diet consists mostly of fish, and my extremely limited knowledge of winery finery includes the fact that fish and white wine go together like me and a flask full of cheap convenience store vodka.
Rode the train for about 50 minutes to Kamakura. Most of that time was spent under the malicious gaze of a middle-aged Japanese man across the car from me. I guess I was looking all lone-male-gaijin dangerous again.
My host mother, Katou Atsuko-san, called me on my cell after I arrived, and it turned out that she was right there at the same exit I was. I got out and met her and her adorable daughters, Mariko (7) and Sachiko (3). There's a 9-year-old son somewhere, but he hasn't been around yet. The father of the family will be at work late and probably won't return until 9pm. Atsuko-san and I spoke entirely in Japanese during the short car drive to the house. They know about the language pledge! But it seems to be working out, anyhow. I can't understand Sachiko at all, but, sometimes, neither can her mother. She's extremely energetic and excitable. Mariko and I played some Wii Tennis and Boxing. I learned that I haven't lost my touch at Tennis (デービッドやっぱ強いよ！）, but I'm still no good at Boxing. She was kicking my keister, until I somehow beat her at the very end, despite going down for a 9-count twice in a row.
Anyway, they just left to take Mariko to her ballet lesson, so I decided to check my mail and blog. I'll write a full update on Monday.
バイバイ
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Settling in
After almost 2 weeks of class, it seems like I've started to hammer out a routine. I do the homework, watch lots of TV online, generally make and eat dinner with a few of the other students, etc. The weekend is reserved for good times.
Last Friday, we went out. After briefly seeing the Whiffenpoofs--and thus my roommate from last summer--in Roppongi, we managed to get into Muse. The process was actually pretty funny, since they let all the girls--who were clearly with us--into the club without comment and then stopped the rest of us for ID at the door. Again, they wanted business cards or something. However, we calmly explained that we were all students for the summer and, more importantly, that we were with those girls who had just gone in. They let us in, and the aforementioned good times were had. I also met up with another friend, who works for Bloomberg in Tokyo.
Unfortunately, getting a cab back was a bitch and a half. Somehow, a group of rain-soaked gaijin just couldn't get a break on the busy streets of Roppongi. We ate at a cheapalicious ramen place to pass the time, finally managed to hail a cab and got driven to a spot that was a good 7 minute walk from our apartment building. I don't know what that driver's problem was, since he had a GPS. Fucker.
On Saturday, we went karaokeing, which was lots of fun. The last time I did it in Tokyo, it was with a smaller group, and more people definitely made for more excitement. If you don't know how karaoke works at a real karaoke place (not a bar with a karaoke machine in the main room), it's like this. You and your friends get a private, soundproofed room with your own machine, TV, mics, the works. We paid by the hour, but you can get a good deal on all-night singing, and some places have all-you-can-eat or all-you-can-drink rates.
Skipping ahead a little, we repeated the experience (with an even larger group) on Tuesday, which was the birthday of one of the students here. By and large, it was a lot of fun. Many a glass was accidentally broken, though not by me. There is more of a story to that night, but you'll forgive me if I make you ask me about it directly. I'll throw three little tidbits your way: 1) We pregamed the event. 2) We brought booze in with us. 3) We won't be showing our faces at that karaoke place anytime soon.
Anyway, you get the picture: weekdays work, weekends wackiness. Unfortunately, SANC does not get the picture and likes to make us do stuff on our weekends. Last Saturday, there was some kind of tea ceremony type thing at 1:30. Now, if I had not already participated in a tea ceremony at a real live Japanese person's house, I might have considered attending for a few minutes. As it was, I just said, "Fuck that, it's Saturday" and slept from 5am until 3pm, at which point I woke up extremely hungover and ornery. Everyone else had long since left, and someone was nice enough to cover for me. You know who you are! お世話になってありがとう！
This weekend--well, starting Friday afternoon--we have a homestay. For some reason, each student gets to stay with a Tokyo family, except for me. I'm taking a train out to Kamakura, which is about 30 miles from Tokyo. True, it's barely far enough out to be considered a separate city from Tokyo, but the teachers were incredibly apologetic about the distance nevertheless. Now I know what you levelheaded, reasonable blog-readers are going to say: "Come on, it's a homestay, it'll be fun. Plus, SANC is giving you Monday off." Well, first, it's creepy that you know so much about my schedule, and, second, while I realize that it will be fun, it will also be work, after a fashion, and I'm not big on that sort of thing during what should be my time off, as was intended by our Creator, Lord and Savior, Richard Dawkins.
Whatever. I'm sure I'll get over it, as long as they have the Internet. Alison tells me that Japan has the highest rating worldwide for wireless access per household, or something like that, and I'm not going into the deep countryside, so my chances are looking pretty good.
また今度
Last Friday, we went out. After briefly seeing the Whiffenpoofs--and thus my roommate from last summer--in Roppongi, we managed to get into Muse. The process was actually pretty funny, since they let all the girls--who were clearly with us--into the club without comment and then stopped the rest of us for ID at the door. Again, they wanted business cards or something. However, we calmly explained that we were all students for the summer and, more importantly, that we were with those girls who had just gone in. They let us in, and the aforementioned good times were had. I also met up with another friend, who works for Bloomberg in Tokyo.
Unfortunately, getting a cab back was a bitch and a half. Somehow, a group of rain-soaked gaijin just couldn't get a break on the busy streets of Roppongi. We ate at a cheapalicious ramen place to pass the time, finally managed to hail a cab and got driven to a spot that was a good 7 minute walk from our apartment building. I don't know what that driver's problem was, since he had a GPS. Fucker.
On Saturday, we went karaokeing, which was lots of fun. The last time I did it in Tokyo, it was with a smaller group, and more people definitely made for more excitement. If you don't know how karaoke works at a real karaoke place (not a bar with a karaoke machine in the main room), it's like this. You and your friends get a private, soundproofed room with your own machine, TV, mics, the works. We paid by the hour, but you can get a good deal on all-night singing, and some places have all-you-can-eat or all-you-can-drink rates.
Skipping ahead a little, we repeated the experience (with an even larger group) on Tuesday, which was the birthday of one of the students here. By and large, it was a lot of fun. Many a glass was accidentally broken, though not by me. There is more of a story to that night, but you'll forgive me if I make you ask me about it directly. I'll throw three little tidbits your way: 1) We pregamed the event. 2) We brought booze in with us. 3) We won't be showing our faces at that karaoke place anytime soon.
Anyway, you get the picture: weekdays work, weekends wackiness. Unfortunately, SANC does not get the picture and likes to make us do stuff on our weekends. Last Saturday, there was some kind of tea ceremony type thing at 1:30. Now, if I had not already participated in a tea ceremony at a real live Japanese person's house, I might have considered attending for a few minutes. As it was, I just said, "Fuck that, it's Saturday" and slept from 5am until 3pm, at which point I woke up extremely hungover and ornery. Everyone else had long since left, and someone was nice enough to cover for me. You know who you are! お世話になってありがとう！
This weekend--well, starting Friday afternoon--we have a homestay. For some reason, each student gets to stay with a Tokyo family, except for me. I'm taking a train out to Kamakura, which is about 30 miles from Tokyo. True, it's barely far enough out to be considered a separate city from Tokyo, but the teachers were incredibly apologetic about the distance nevertheless. Now I know what you levelheaded, reasonable blog-readers are going to say: "Come on, it's a homestay, it'll be fun. Plus, SANC is giving you Monday off." Well, first, it's creepy that you know so much about my schedule, and, second, while I realize that it will be fun, it will also be work, after a fashion, and I'm not big on that sort of thing during what should be my time off, as was intended by our Creator, Lord and Savior, Richard Dawkins.
Whatever. I'm sure I'll get over it, as long as they have the Internet. Alison tells me that Japan has the highest rating worldwide for wireless access per household, or something like that, and I'm not going into the deep countryside, so my chances are looking pretty good.
また今度
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Remember that dialogue from the Matrix?
The part at the beginning where Morpheus has just called Neo at his office and alerts him to the presence of the Agents pursuing him?
Neo says, "Shit!"
And Morpheus just replies, "Yes."
That pretty much sums up much of my reaction to classes at SANC.
I'm with three other students who have taken 3rd-year Japanese at Yale. Our classes are divided three ways: (1) regular class, which uses a textbook that teaches us vocabulary and grammar through various exercises and essays, (2) business Japanese class, in which we learn, well, business Japanese, for landing a job at a Japanese company and whatnot, and (3) news class, where we read the paper and listen to the radio.
To start, let me say that there is a lot of work. A lot of reading, which entails a lot of writing in the pronunciation and meaning of new kanji--and there are a lot of new kanji--and a fair bit of busywork as far as exercises go. Instead of learning 15 new words for a quiz each day, it seems to be more like 40-50. Except when it's 88, and it's sprung on you at the last second.
While regular class is rather fun, and business Japanese class is okay, if a bit intimidating, newspaper class is boring as hell and really, really difficult. We have it all day on Monday and Thursday. So, we read an article for Monday, and that was tough. We read some more on Monday and listened to the radio, which was annoying. And there are tons of new words. She gave us homework, which was basically to answer questions about the first article and do some grammar exercises. But get this. On Wednesday, after I (and another advanced student) left business Japanese class, the other two advanced students stayed behind, waiting for some of the lower-level kids to get out. And, while they were waiting in the lobby, the news class teacher came rushing in, ever-so-fucking-happy to have found them in time. In time for what, you ask? In time to double our homework load and inform us of a quiz the next day on 88 words for which we had no preparation whatsoever.
I got the call about this while I was on the bus going home. For legal reasons, I cannot transcribe what went through my head in this venue.
I decided to time just how long it took me to do the homework, not including Facebook breaks. The original stuff she assigned took 2 hours. The new stuff took about another 2 more hours. I'm not used to working for more than 1 or 2 hours each night, except to write essays! And I'm a pretty fast worker, so I can only imagine how it is for the others.
The only bright side was that, today, the teacher showed up 45 minutes late for news class. Apparently she misunderstood the schedule, or something. Sadly, it probably won't happen again.
Neo says, "Shit!"
And Morpheus just replies, "Yes."
That pretty much sums up much of my reaction to classes at SANC.
I'm with three other students who have taken 3rd-year Japanese at Yale. Our classes are divided three ways: (1) regular class, which uses a textbook that teaches us vocabulary and grammar through various exercises and essays, (2) business Japanese class, in which we learn, well, business Japanese, for landing a job at a Japanese company and whatnot, and (3) news class, where we read the paper and listen to the radio.
To start, let me say that there is a lot of work. A lot of reading, which entails a lot of writing in the pronunciation and meaning of new kanji--and there are a lot of new kanji--and a fair bit of busywork as far as exercises go. Instead of learning 15 new words for a quiz each day, it seems to be more like 40-50. Except when it's 88, and it's sprung on you at the last second.
While regular class is rather fun, and business Japanese class is okay, if a bit intimidating, newspaper class is boring as hell and really, really difficult. We have it all day on Monday and Thursday. So, we read an article for Monday, and that was tough. We read some more on Monday and listened to the radio, which was annoying. And there are tons of new words. She gave us homework, which was basically to answer questions about the first article and do some grammar exercises. But get this. On Wednesday, after I (and another advanced student) left business Japanese class, the other two advanced students stayed behind, waiting for some of the lower-level kids to get out. And, while they were waiting in the lobby, the news class teacher came rushing in, ever-so-fucking-happy to have found them in time. In time for what, you ask? In time to double our homework load and inform us of a quiz the next day on 88 words for which we had no preparation whatsoever.
I got the call about this while I was on the bus going home. For legal reasons, I cannot transcribe what went through my head in this venue.
I decided to time just how long it took me to do the homework, not including Facebook breaks. The original stuff she assigned took 2 hours. The new stuff took about another 2 more hours. I'm not used to working for more than 1 or 2 hours each night, except to write essays! And I'm a pretty fast worker, so I can only imagine how it is for the others.
The only bright side was that, today, the teacher showed up 45 minutes late for news class. Apparently she misunderstood the schedule, or something. Sadly, it probably won't happen again.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Weekend in review
As promised, on Saturday I went to have dinner with Mark. Steak and potatoes--and how! It was a delicious American-style meal, the likes of which I probably won't see for two months. It's possible that I'll get invited over again, but since they're very busy attempting to move out of the country in the next four weeks, the odds are shy.
After that, I went back to the apartment complex, where we played drinking games before heading out to Roppongi. Two things are worth mentioning. First, one of my favorite clubs, Muse, is apparently trying to weed out foreigners by requiring a Japanese business card, of all things, to be presented at the door. Damn it all! Second, I got way too drunk.
Now, I know what you're thinking. "David," you're thinking, "you handsome bastard, get out of my head!" But right before that, you were thinking, "That's crazy! There's no such thing as too drunk, only increasingly fun stages of drunk." And, under normal circumstances, I would be inclined to agree. But when the goal is to stay out all night and come back at dawn, you can get too drunk. On our way to Muse, before we were turned back at the door, we stopped at a convenience store to buy a flask of vodka, which we passed around. I took about three deep pulls off the thing, and this was after heavy pregaming. And then we went and drank some more. Sometime between 3 and 4, I knew I was incredibly drunk, and, like always when I become incredibly drunk, some kind of switch went off in my head that made me need to go home immediately.
This happens all the time. Usually, I don't even tell anyone--I just get up and walk home, and I'm halfway there before anyone realizes I've left. In this case, Saunders-san was nice enough to make sure I got into a cab. I had the guy drop me off at our subway stop, and, somehow, despite the haze of intoxication in which my world was cloaked, I managed to get back to my apartment, throw up and pass out.
I woke up after 3pm on Sunday and basically wasted the day eating and goofing off before doing my homework at night.
This weekend, I've promised myself not to go that 遠慮なくwith the alcohol. I want to enjoy the whole Roppongi experience.
I'll talk about class a little further into the week, once I have a better idea of it.
以上だ
After that, I went back to the apartment complex, where we played drinking games before heading out to Roppongi. Two things are worth mentioning. First, one of my favorite clubs, Muse, is apparently trying to weed out foreigners by requiring a Japanese business card, of all things, to be presented at the door. Damn it all! Second, I got way too drunk.
Now, I know what you're thinking. "David," you're thinking, "you handsome bastard, get out of my head!" But right before that, you were thinking, "That's crazy! There's no such thing as too drunk, only increasingly fun stages of drunk." And, under normal circumstances, I would be inclined to agree. But when the goal is to stay out all night and come back at dawn, you can get too drunk. On our way to Muse, before we were turned back at the door, we stopped at a convenience store to buy a flask of vodka, which we passed around. I took about three deep pulls off the thing, and this was after heavy pregaming. And then we went and drank some more. Sometime between 3 and 4, I knew I was incredibly drunk, and, like always when I become incredibly drunk, some kind of switch went off in my head that made me need to go home immediately.
This happens all the time. Usually, I don't even tell anyone--I just get up and walk home, and I'm halfway there before anyone realizes I've left. In this case, Saunders-san was nice enough to make sure I got into a cab. I had the guy drop me off at our subway stop, and, somehow, despite the haze of intoxication in which my world was cloaked, I managed to get back to my apartment, throw up and pass out.
I woke up after 3pm on Sunday and basically wasted the day eating and goofing off before doing my homework at night.
This weekend, I've promised myself not to go that 遠慮なくwith the alcohol. I want to enjoy the whole Roppongi experience.
I'll talk about class a little further into the week, once I have a better idea of it.
以上だ
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Funniest joke EVER
This deserves a post of its own:
Although the legal drinking age in Japan is 20, SANC requires that students follow American drinking laws during the course of the program.
AHAHAHAHAHHAHA! AHHAHAHAH! HHAHAHAHAH! HAHAH! ROFLCOPTER TO THE MAX! THAT IS FUCKING HILARIOUS!
Seriously, though. I actually told them, flat out, "じょうだんしないで下さい", which is a polite way of saying "don't kid me." Several of the teachers have already observed my perhaps tasteless alcohol-related antics, from brandishing a bottle of Absolut Kurant on the bus to discussing my favorite kinds of shouchuu (Japanese liquor) with my "buddy." I don't think they really intend to enforce the rule all that strictly, not that they could if they tried. Obviously, tossing back shots in the middle of class would be bad form, regardless. But nothing's going to stop me from having a good old inebriated time every single weekend.
Although the legal drinking age in Japan is 20, SANC requires that students follow American drinking laws during the course of the program.
AHAHAHAHAHHAHA! AHHAHAHAH! HHAHAHAHAH! HAHAH! ROFLCOPTER TO THE MAX! THAT IS FUCKING HILARIOUS!
Seriously, though. I actually told them, flat out, "じょうだんしないで下さい", which is a polite way of saying "don't kid me." Several of the teachers have already observed my perhaps tasteless alcohol-related antics, from brandishing a bottle of Absolut Kurant on the bus to discussing my favorite kinds of shouchuu (Japanese liquor) with my "buddy." I don't think they really intend to enforce the rule all that strictly, not that they could if they tried. Obviously, tossing back shots in the middle of class would be bad form, regardless. But nothing's going to stop me from having a good old inebriated time every single weekend.
First day of SANC
We had our orientation today. Met up in the Shinagawa Prince Hotel lobby at 9 AM, with faces both old and new. We then took a bus (and I'm ever-so-fucking-thankful that we didn't have to drag our suitcases through the subway system) to our apartment building. Technically, our building is in Shibuya, I believe, but it's at this intersection of three different areas, and the closest subway station is Nishi Shinjuku (meaning West Shinjuku).
I was astounded by how nice the apartments are. Full-sized beds, closets, desks, microwaves, stoves, fridges, freezers, bathrooms... all kinds of little comforts like tea kettles, pots, pans, dishes, utensils and even toothbrush cups. Basically, these rooms are fully livable. I took a bunch of pictures, only to realize that I left my camera USB cord at home. However, I'll link you now to another blog post that has some images of a more-or-less identical room. Those windows in the back, with the curtains, lead to a fucking balcony. Hot damn.
The teachers took us to the building where we take our classes, about a 5-10 minute walk from Shibuya station. We had a brief orientation, followed by a placement exam that all four of us advanced students agreed was rather difficult. However, the exam doesn't really determine our placement so much as it does the areas on which we need to work in our classes. We also met with our classes' teachers to talk a little bit about the curriculum and to get our first assignments. For Monday, we have to read two articles about the Akihabara Massacre.
Later that evening, the teachers took us out to dinner, where we met with some Japanese "buddies." Basically, we got to chat and laugh with a bunch of pretty cool 日本人 while ordering all the Italian food we could eat. Awesome. We now have lots of numbers and e-mail addresses of authentic Japanese people, in case we want to meet up with them later. Mostly, they were Tokyo University students, but there were a few in the workforce. My buddy (damn, that is a lame term) was a girl working at JP Morgan.
There's a strict Japanese-only language pledge, which is supposed to apply both in class and out. We try to observe it when we can, but, amongst ourselves, it proves to be rather difficult to maintain, especially given the varying levels of language proficiency.
I single-handedly managed to convince 7 of the 12 other students to go out clubbing tonight--I went door-to-door to see, individually, whether each person was interested, because we couldn't seem to come to any consensus as a group while we were walking back home. We ended up having a great time in Roppongi, but my desire to stay out all night was sadly overruled. Hopefully, we'll hit up the 'til-dawn party scene on Saturday.
Michael, my roommate from last summer's Tokyo adventures, sent me an e-mail. Apparently the Whiffenpoofs are already in town. Should be good times.
But tomorrow... tomorrow is the Night of Meat. May all the gods of Japan bless Dad's friend and colleague Mark, who has gone out of his way to ensure that I get my fill of perfectly grilled cow flesh, and not chopped up into itty-bitty Japanese-sized pieces. More on that, later.
P.S. Freddie: walking back home at 1 in the morning, we saw an adorable white poodle-like dog. I didn't get a good look, but it reminded me of you. Hope you're doing well and taking good care of the rest of the family!
I was astounded by how nice the apartments are. Full-sized beds, closets, desks, microwaves, stoves, fridges, freezers, bathrooms... all kinds of little comforts like tea kettles, pots, pans, dishes, utensils and even toothbrush cups. Basically, these rooms are fully livable. I took a bunch of pictures, only to realize that I left my camera USB cord at home. However, I'll link you now to another blog post that has some images of a more-or-less identical room. Those windows in the back, with the curtains, lead to a fucking balcony. Hot damn.
The teachers took us to the building where we take our classes, about a 5-10 minute walk from Shibuya station. We had a brief orientation, followed by a placement exam that all four of us advanced students agreed was rather difficult. However, the exam doesn't really determine our placement so much as it does the areas on which we need to work in our classes. We also met with our classes' teachers to talk a little bit about the curriculum and to get our first assignments. For Monday, we have to read two articles about the Akihabara Massacre.
Later that evening, the teachers took us out to dinner, where we met with some Japanese "buddies." Basically, we got to chat and laugh with a bunch of pretty cool 日本人 while ordering all the Italian food we could eat. Awesome. We now have lots of numbers and e-mail addresses of authentic Japanese people, in case we want to meet up with them later. Mostly, they were Tokyo University students, but there were a few in the workforce. My buddy (damn, that is a lame term) was a girl working at JP Morgan.
There's a strict Japanese-only language pledge, which is supposed to apply both in class and out. We try to observe it when we can, but, amongst ourselves, it proves to be rather difficult to maintain, especially given the varying levels of language proficiency.
I single-handedly managed to convince 7 of the 12 other students to go out clubbing tonight--I went door-to-door to see, individually, whether each person was interested, because we couldn't seem to come to any consensus as a group while we were walking back home. We ended up having a great time in Roppongi, but my desire to stay out all night was sadly overruled. Hopefully, we'll hit up the 'til-dawn party scene on Saturday.
Michael, my roommate from last summer's Tokyo adventures, sent me an e-mail. Apparently the Whiffenpoofs are already in town. Should be good times.
But tomorrow... tomorrow is the Night of Meat. May all the gods of Japan bless Dad's friend and colleague Mark, who has gone out of his way to ensure that I get my fill of perfectly grilled cow flesh, and not chopped up into itty-bitty Japanese-sized pieces. More on that, later.
P.S. Freddie: walking back home at 1 in the morning, we saw an adorable white poodle-like dog. I didn't get a good look, but it reminded me of you. Hope you're doing well and taking good care of the rest of the family!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Danger, Will Robinson
I was in Tokyo for about 9 weeks last summer, and not even once did I feel unsafe. As a white male between the ages of 18 and 25, I am, after all, invincible. Combine that with being in Japan, and, like Kal-El beneath the light of a yellow sun, I gain additional powers such as incredible strength, laser vision and the ability not to pay for the subway.
However, recent events have led me to doubt my purported invulnerability. First, there was that thing in Akihabara. As if that weren't bad enough, I've begun to suspect that I should be wary of the local law enforcement.
Remember that place I mentioned, Geronimo's? Well, apparently a friend of one of the bartenders was recently caught without his Japanese resident's card on his person and thrown in jail for 28 days. It's not like he didn't have a card--he just didn't have it with him whenever they did an ID check for whatever reason. I assume that Japanese prison is clean and well-mannered, like the rest of Japan, but apparently it's somewhat fascistic, too. This guy isn't allowed to speak English to his visitors, as if some sort of secret and dire message might be passed between them. He speaks English to a translator, who tells another translator, who translates it for the visitor, or some crazy shit like that. So the story went.
At the time, I guessed that the police had originally detained this dude for a good reason, like drunk and disorderly conduct. Based on my experience last year, it seemed like it would take an awful lot for anyone to confront a gaijin. But this assumption was challenged when I went out tonight. (By the way, I don't recommend going out alone on a weekday night--it's not easy to meet anyone, since, for the most part, the only people in the bars are suits getting their drink on before the last train leaves.) On my way back, I was stopped by a police officer who wanted to see my ID. I calmly explained that I'm here on a tourist visa, which was in my hotel 10 minutes away. The hotel is pretty well known, so he took me at my word, but not without giving me a brisk frisk. In his words, "Roppongi is dangerous area."
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Roppongi is dangerous, so I get frisked? That's just not even a good excuse. And what could be the actual rationale? I realize that I've a bit more bulk than the average 日本人, but still, I don't think I look all that sketchy. I suppose it comes down to this: I was a lone foreign male wandering around after midnight. Who knows what sort of mischief was running through my head?
So, yeah. I got racially profiled. From now on, I'm carrying a photocopy of my passport and tourist visa in my wallet, just in case the next curious cops I meet aren't so nice.
However, recent events have led me to doubt my purported invulnerability. First, there was that thing in Akihabara. As if that weren't bad enough, I've begun to suspect that I should be wary of the local law enforcement.
Remember that place I mentioned, Geronimo's? Well, apparently a friend of one of the bartenders was recently caught without his Japanese resident's card on his person and thrown in jail for 28 days. It's not like he didn't have a card--he just didn't have it with him whenever they did an ID check for whatever reason. I assume that Japanese prison is clean and well-mannered, like the rest of Japan, but apparently it's somewhat fascistic, too. This guy isn't allowed to speak English to his visitors, as if some sort of secret and dire message might be passed between them. He speaks English to a translator, who tells another translator, who translates it for the visitor, or some crazy shit like that. So the story went.
At the time, I guessed that the police had originally detained this dude for a good reason, like drunk and disorderly conduct. Based on my experience last year, it seemed like it would take an awful lot for anyone to confront a gaijin. But this assumption was challenged when I went out tonight. (By the way, I don't recommend going out alone on a weekday night--it's not easy to meet anyone, since, for the most part, the only people in the bars are suits getting their drink on before the last train leaves.) On my way back, I was stopped by a police officer who wanted to see my ID. I calmly explained that I'm here on a tourist visa, which was in my hotel 10 minutes away. The hotel is pretty well known, so he took me at my word, but not without giving me a brisk frisk. In his words, "Roppongi is dangerous area."
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Roppongi is dangerous, so I get frisked? That's just not even a good excuse. And what could be the actual rationale? I realize that I've a bit more bulk than the average 日本人, but still, I don't think I look all that sketchy. I suppose it comes down to this: I was a lone foreign male wandering around after midnight. Who knows what sort of mischief was running through my head?
So, yeah. I got racially profiled. From now on, I'm carrying a photocopy of my passport and tourist visa in my wallet, just in case the next curious cops I meet aren't so nice.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
First night out
A friend complained to me that my previous posts were too long and boring. I agree. But I had a lot of information to dole out that might prove useful to other Japan-travelers. However, in the future, unless it's really interesting and copious details are necessary, I'll strive for pith.
Moving on.
I met my friend Angela last night to go out in Roppongi. Angela did the JET program for a couple years. Now she lives and works in Tokyo. We were originally planning to do the 徹夜 thing, staying out until dawn, but something came up for her at the last minute, so we called it a night around 3 or 4. The time frame is a bit blurry, since I had about 7 or 8 terrifically strong gin and tonics.
Highlights of the night:
- The three G&Ts and two beers we ordered at Geronimo's were totally free! Angela seems to be BFFs with the staff of pretty much every gaijin bar in Roppongi.
- Angela points at the bartendress at Geronimo's and tells me, "You'll never guess how old she is." I look over: the person in question seems to be an attractive blonde twenty-something, so I say, "Is she 18?" Turns out, this woman is 40 years old. I never thought I would actually use the term "MILF" seriously, but damn. I'll go back one night with my camera and try to get a photo of her.
- There was a sumo wrestler at Club 911. At least, we thought he was a sumo wrestler. He was a very tall, wide Japanese man wearing a yukata. We didn't ask him. What happens if you inquire, "Are you a sumo wrestler?" and the guy isn't? I don't want to find out.
- Dropped the Y-bomb on a couple American college juniors at A971. Total destruction!
Apparently, the Numb remix is still loved by all Japanese people.
So is Soulja Boy. Fuck.
Moving on.
I met my friend Angela last night to go out in Roppongi. Angela did the JET program for a couple years. Now she lives and works in Tokyo. We were originally planning to do the 徹夜 thing, staying out until dawn, but something came up for her at the last minute, so we called it a night around 3 or 4. The time frame is a bit blurry, since I had about 7 or 8 terrifically strong gin and tonics.
Highlights of the night:
- The three G&Ts and two beers we ordered at Geronimo's were totally free! Angela seems to be BFFs with the staff of pretty much every gaijin bar in Roppongi.
- Angela points at the bartendress at Geronimo's and tells me, "You'll never guess how old she is." I look over: the person in question seems to be an attractive blonde twenty-something, so I say, "Is she 18?" Turns out, this woman is 40 years old. I never thought I would actually use the term "MILF" seriously, but damn. I'll go back one night with my camera and try to get a photo of her.
- There was a sumo wrestler at Club 911. At least, we thought he was a sumo wrestler. He was a very tall, wide Japanese man wearing a yukata. We didn't ask him. What happens if you inquire, "Are you a sumo wrestler?" and the guy isn't? I don't want to find out.
- Dropped the Y-bomb on a couple American college juniors at A971. Total destruction!
Apparently, the Numb remix is still loved by all Japanese people.
So is Soulja Boy. Fuck.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Observations
1. Showers are awesome.
After about 20 hours of traveling, I finally get to the hotel. I'm hot and sticky, and my hair is beginning to smell like bacon grease. Well, fine, it wasn't that bad. But still, it was pretty gross. And I'd just spent 12 hours on a plane next to a Filipino woman whose favorite topic was how the Philippines are nicer, prettier, funner and more upscale than Tokyo and New York put together. So, after navigating my way to the hotel (like a pro, I might add) I was super psyched to wash the detritus of the day away.
2. I still can't really sleep on planes. I don't know why, but I just can't. I managed to grab about 60 minutes of actual sleep with another half-hour of exasperated semi-somnolence tacked on at the end. And even that was only with the help of booze. (By the way, Manya, I think these homeopathic New Zealand anti-hangover pills might be the real deal.)
3. Tokyo's public transit cartels have put an end to prepaid metro tickets. However, they have done so only to replace them with something even awesomer: chargeable plastic subway cards--for everyone! As far as I knew last year, you could buy such things, but only for specific routes. Now, you just put money on the card (which costs 500 yen to purchase) and it works like the prepaids did, except you don't throw it out. Also, you just wave it over a sensor to use it. 超便利！
4. For the first 6 nights, I'm staying in the Asia Center, which is the business hotel Yale put us interns in last summer. My room's a pillbox, but it has killer air conditioning, high-speed Internet, a TV I won't watch, an electric water heater and a teensy little fridge for all of my alcohols. Also, the lobby has all the free bottles of ice cold Masafi natural mineral water you can drink. Try Masafi today! Maybe they'll see this and pay me.
The location of the Asia Center is, of course, super great. It's a 10 minute walk from Roppongi. Also, my pillbox itself happens to be in a pretty good spot, right across from one of the two laundry rooms in the building.
5. Co-Co Ichibanya is still the shit. I, however, am decidedly not at the top of my game.
Co-Co Ichibanya, for those of you who don't know, is a chain of curry restaurants, serving up huge plates of delicious Japanese-style curry about which I have raved to anyone who would listen. The thing they're really known for, besides deliciousness, is their 10-level system of spiciness. You have your level 1, which I've never even tasted--actually, I've never had below level 6--then level 2, which is 2x level 1, then level 3, which is 3x level 1... and so on. Except, starting around level 6, the spice curve starts to ramp up. Level 9 is 18x level 1, and level 10 is 24x level 1 (making for the biggest jump in the series, because they really just want to kill you at that point).
Last summer, I was able to eat level 10s without touching my water glass until the end. However, they really fucked with my digestion and were kind of a chore to get through, so I generally stuck with level 9. First thing I did after my shower was head to the nearest Co-Co Ichibanya and order my standard level 9 pork curry. It was significantly spicier than I remembered. Finding it unlikely that the Co-Co Council decided to change its magic recipe, I can conclude only that my year of indolence in the U.S. allowed too many of my taste receptor neurons to regenerate. The curries of the Indian places in New Haven, while tasty, barely tickle the tongue, even when prepared "very spicy." The only time I really hurt myself was during Buffalo Wild Wings' Blazin' Challenge, for which you must consume 12 of their spiciest wings within 6 minutes to win a free T shirt. Now that was hot. But clearly I should have been doing it more often, because there I was this afternoon, sorely out of shape and sipping at ice water to work my way through a mere level 9. Trust me, I'll be training myself in this regard at least as diligently as I will be studying Japanese this summer.
6. Softbank changed its prepaid phone option from the stodgy old candybar model to a sleek, sexy black flip phone. I got one at the retailer by Harajuku Station. Just needed my passport and any random Japanese address and telephone number. I didn't have the info for the hotel on me, but the lady said it didn't matter, because they wouldn't look for me or call me, anyway. I found the business card of a guy who works at Temple University in my wallet, and we ended up just using that address and number. I really do hope no one calls him to check up on me.
The phone is pretty pricey--5880 for the handset, plus a charge card that can be either 3000 or 5000. I got the 5000, to start, and I can charge it more online later if I need to do so. She set up my e-mail address on the phone, subtracting 300 yen from the card. If I understood her correctly, I get free texting within Japan, but 100 yen per message for international texts. I don't know where messages from normal e-mail accounts (not cell phones) figure into this scheme. As for calls, they're 9 yen per 6 seconds, which is fine for my purposes. I expect the extent of most of my calls to be, "What's up? Want to meet me at Roppongi, exit 4, in 1 hour? Okay, see you there."
If anyone needs my phone number and/or text address, drop me an e-mail or Facebook message or something. I'd rather not put the info right up on the blog.
7. The pervasive young male Japanese hairstyle I liked to call the "upswept dry red mop" of yesteryear has been replaced, as far as I can tell, with just long, thick hair--dye optional. Combined with the short stature and petite physique of the average Japanese individual, this makes it easy to mistake a young Japanese man for a young Japanese woman from behind. And sometimes even from befront.
But I haven't been to Roppongi yet. Maybe the dry mop heads are waiting for me over there.
8. Sleep. Hm. I'm doing pretty well at the moment. I don't feel too exhausted. So, I'm going to try to tough it out at least until midnight. The best way to beat jet lag is to hit the ground running. And, as I mentioned, to stay up until dawn tomorrow night.
平和外
After about 20 hours of traveling, I finally get to the hotel. I'm hot and sticky, and my hair is beginning to smell like bacon grease. Well, fine, it wasn't that bad. But still, it was pretty gross. And I'd just spent 12 hours on a plane next to a Filipino woman whose favorite topic was how the Philippines are nicer, prettier, funner and more upscale than Tokyo and New York put together. So, after navigating my way to the hotel (like a pro, I might add) I was super psyched to wash the detritus of the day away.
2. I still can't really sleep on planes. I don't know why, but I just can't. I managed to grab about 60 minutes of actual sleep with another half-hour of exasperated semi-somnolence tacked on at the end. And even that was only with the help of booze. (By the way, Manya, I think these homeopathic New Zealand anti-hangover pills might be the real deal.)
3. Tokyo's public transit cartels have put an end to prepaid metro tickets. However, they have done so only to replace them with something even awesomer: chargeable plastic subway cards--for everyone! As far as I knew last year, you could buy such things, but only for specific routes. Now, you just put money on the card (which costs 500 yen to purchase) and it works like the prepaids did, except you don't throw it out. Also, you just wave it over a sensor to use it. 超便利！
4. For the first 6 nights, I'm staying in the Asia Center, which is the business hotel Yale put us interns in last summer. My room's a pillbox, but it has killer air conditioning, high-speed Internet, a TV I won't watch, an electric water heater and a teensy little fridge for all of my alcohols. Also, the lobby has all the free bottles of ice cold Masafi natural mineral water you can drink. Try Masafi today! Maybe they'll see this and pay me.
The location of the Asia Center is, of course, super great. It's a 10 minute walk from Roppongi. Also, my pillbox itself happens to be in a pretty good spot, right across from one of the two laundry rooms in the building.
5. Co-Co Ichibanya is still the shit. I, however, am decidedly not at the top of my game.
Co-Co Ichibanya, for those of you who don't know, is a chain of curry restaurants, serving up huge plates of delicious Japanese-style curry about which I have raved to anyone who would listen. The thing they're really known for, besides deliciousness, is their 10-level system of spiciness. You have your level 1, which I've never even tasted--actually, I've never had below level 6--then level 2, which is 2x level 1, then level 3, which is 3x level 1... and so on. Except, starting around level 6, the spice curve starts to ramp up. Level 9 is 18x level 1, and level 10 is 24x level 1 (making for the biggest jump in the series, because they really just want to kill you at that point).
Last summer, I was able to eat level 10s without touching my water glass until the end. However, they really fucked with my digestion and were kind of a chore to get through, so I generally stuck with level 9. First thing I did after my shower was head to the nearest Co-Co Ichibanya and order my standard level 9 pork curry. It was significantly spicier than I remembered. Finding it unlikely that the Co-Co Council decided to change its magic recipe, I can conclude only that my year of indolence in the U.S. allowed too many of my taste receptor neurons to regenerate. The curries of the Indian places in New Haven, while tasty, barely tickle the tongue, even when prepared "very spicy." The only time I really hurt myself was during Buffalo Wild Wings' Blazin' Challenge, for which you must consume 12 of their spiciest wings within 6 minutes to win a free T shirt. Now that was hot. But clearly I should have been doing it more often, because there I was this afternoon, sorely out of shape and sipping at ice water to work my way through a mere level 9. Trust me, I'll be training myself in this regard at least as diligently as I will be studying Japanese this summer.
6. Softbank changed its prepaid phone option from the stodgy old candybar model to a sleek, sexy black flip phone. I got one at the retailer by Harajuku Station. Just needed my passport and any random Japanese address and telephone number. I didn't have the info for the hotel on me, but the lady said it didn't matter, because they wouldn't look for me or call me, anyway. I found the business card of a guy who works at Temple University in my wallet, and we ended up just using that address and number. I really do hope no one calls him to check up on me.
The phone is pretty pricey--5880 for the handset, plus a charge card that can be either 3000 or 5000. I got the 5000, to start, and I can charge it more online later if I need to do so. She set up my e-mail address on the phone, subtracting 300 yen from the card. If I understood her correctly, I get free texting within Japan, but 100 yen per message for international texts. I don't know where messages from normal e-mail accounts (not cell phones) figure into this scheme. As for calls, they're 9 yen per 6 seconds, which is fine for my purposes. I expect the extent of most of my calls to be, "What's up? Want to meet me at Roppongi, exit 4, in 1 hour? Okay, see you there."
If anyone needs my phone number and/or text address, drop me an e-mail or Facebook message or something. I'd rather not put the info right up on the blog.
7. The pervasive young male Japanese hairstyle I liked to call the "upswept dry red mop" of yesteryear has been replaced, as far as I can tell, with just long, thick hair--dye optional. Combined with the short stature and petite physique of the average Japanese individual, this makes it easy to mistake a young Japanese man for a young Japanese woman from behind. And sometimes even from befront.
But I haven't been to Roppongi yet. Maybe the dry mop heads are waiting for me over there.
8. Sleep. Hm. I'm doing pretty well at the moment. I don't feel too exhausted. So, I'm going to try to tough it out at least until midnight. The best way to beat jet lag is to hit the ground running. And, as I mentioned, to stay up until dawn tomorrow night.
平和外
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Preflight entertainment
So, here I am, sitting in Newark Airport, two hours before departure. I finally got around to packing at around 11 last night, after the penultimate episode of this season's Top Chef. I don't see why people make such a big fuss about packing, but I'm notorious (in certain circles) for traveling light. All I did was throw about a dozen days' worth of T shirts, boxers, socks, etc. into a big suitcase. Follow that up with a few pairs of jeans, one pair of shorts and a selection of button shirts. Belts. One suit and a tie, just in case. And my GMAT and LSAT prep books.
There's also a bottle of very nice whiskey that Dad gave me to pass along to our mutual friend, Isono Isao. Isono-san owns a traditional Japanese shouting restaurant (AKA a robatayaki) in Roppongi. We first met him two summers ago, when Dad and I went on vacation for two weeks in Japan. We sort of became e-mail pen pals after that. Last summer, when I went to do an internship in Tokyo, I surprised him by just showing up at his restaurant out of the blue. I brought him a mezuzah, which I figured would be pretty atypical and therefore interesting as a gift. As far as I can tell, the Japanese by and large have very little understanding of Christianity and almost zero understanding of Judaism, but I explained the significance of the mezuzah to him (in Japanese) anyway. I wonder if he ever put it up in his apartment. I didn't see it when I went there--he invited me over at the end of the summer, and I got to meet his whole family. Wife, high-school-aged son and mother(-in-law?) who lived in the apartment upstairs. It was really an amazing experience. I tried some natto (not as bad as advertised), drank the good shochu, went out to dinner with them and shot the shit in general. Anyway, as much as the Japanese don't comprehend Judaism, they do enjoy their whiskey, so I think I have a good gift with which to show up on his restaurant's doorstep this year.
Thankfully, that wealth of memories and cultural insight didn't take up much space in my suitcase, and it took me less than an hour to get everything together. I also have my computer backpack, which contains a few novels, guidebooks and electronic crap, among other things. I have no idea where my computer lock is, and I couldn't find one in the airport. I'm probably worried about nothing, though. It seems unlikely that anyone in Japan with access to my room is going to take my stuff. I also have Kanji in Context, the kanji supplement we used this year in class. I thought I might use it during my 11-hour flight or the subsequent week before the placement exam. I probably won't, but who knows?
But enough about the bits and pieces of my life that I'm taking with me to Tokyo. "What," you ask, "about your impressions of what's to come?" Honestly, I'm pretty nervous, but it's a familiar feeling. I've gone abroad to live on my own for an extended period of time twice already, and the worst part is always the beginning, when you don't really know anyone. It can get very lonely very quickly, living by yourself. However, even though I'll be more or less alone the first week, I do know a whole mess of people living in Tokyo already. As a matter of fact, I already have plans to tear it up in Roppongi with a friend on Saturday night. Staying out until dawn is a surefire way to get over my jet lag.
So, even though I'm nervous, I know it's just an instinctive feeling, and it will pass soon enough. Once I get into the swing of things, I'll be having a blast. Plus I can keep in touch with everyone at home pretty easily, using Skype. If you're reading this, and you're going to be abroad at some point, and you don't have Skype, get it. Get it and put money into your account. Then you have a cheap, easy way to call any phone in the world from your computer. I'm also going to have a prepaid cellphone (priority number one, once I get settled) but that will be more for quick, coordinating calls and messages between me and my fellow Tokyoites.
Well, that just about wraps up a really boring blog post. I apologize. The awesome stuff is coming soon, I promise.
さよならサッカーズ
There's also a bottle of very nice whiskey that Dad gave me to pass along to our mutual friend, Isono Isao. Isono-san owns a traditional Japanese shouting restaurant (AKA a robatayaki) in Roppongi. We first met him two summers ago, when Dad and I went on vacation for two weeks in Japan. We sort of became e-mail pen pals after that. Last summer, when I went to do an internship in Tokyo, I surprised him by just showing up at his restaurant out of the blue. I brought him a mezuzah, which I figured would be pretty atypical and therefore interesting as a gift. As far as I can tell, the Japanese by and large have very little understanding of Christianity and almost zero understanding of Judaism, but I explained the significance of the mezuzah to him (in Japanese) anyway. I wonder if he ever put it up in his apartment. I didn't see it when I went there--he invited me over at the end of the summer, and I got to meet his whole family. Wife, high-school-aged son and mother(-in-law?) who lived in the apartment upstairs. It was really an amazing experience. I tried some natto (not as bad as advertised), drank the good shochu, went out to dinner with them and shot the shit in general. Anyway, as much as the Japanese don't comprehend Judaism, they do enjoy their whiskey, so I think I have a good gift with which to show up on his restaurant's doorstep this year.
Thankfully, that wealth of memories and cultural insight didn't take up much space in my suitcase, and it took me less than an hour to get everything together. I also have my computer backpack, which contains a few novels, guidebooks and electronic crap, among other things. I have no idea where my computer lock is, and I couldn't find one in the airport. I'm probably worried about nothing, though. It seems unlikely that anyone in Japan with access to my room is going to take my stuff. I also have Kanji in Context, the kanji supplement we used this year in class. I thought I might use it during my 11-hour flight or the subsequent week before the placement exam. I probably won't, but who knows?
But enough about the bits and pieces of my life that I'm taking with me to Tokyo. "What," you ask, "about your impressions of what's to come?" Honestly, I'm pretty nervous, but it's a familiar feeling. I've gone abroad to live on my own for an extended period of time twice already, and the worst part is always the beginning, when you don't really know anyone. It can get very lonely very quickly, living by yourself. However, even though I'll be more or less alone the first week, I do know a whole mess of people living in Tokyo already. As a matter of fact, I already have plans to tear it up in Roppongi with a friend on Saturday night. Staying out until dawn is a surefire way to get over my jet lag.
So, even though I'm nervous, I know it's just an instinctive feeling, and it will pass soon enough. Once I get into the swing of things, I'll be having a blast. Plus I can keep in touch with everyone at home pretty easily, using Skype. If you're reading this, and you're going to be abroad at some point, and you don't have Skype, get it. Get it and put money into your account. Then you have a cheap, easy way to call any phone in the world from your computer. I'm also going to have a prepaid cellphone (priority number one, once I get settled) but that will be more for quick, coordinating calls and messages between me and my fellow Tokyoites.
Well, that just about wraps up a really boring blog post. I apologize. The awesome stuff is coming soon, I promise.
さよならサッカーズ
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Yeah. I went there.
I just put my blog URL up as my Facebook status.
My ethical opposition to blogging stems from my apprehension of the blogger's mindset. What kind of person thinks, "Oh, wow, my life and ideas are so damn interesting! I'll put myself online and get everyone I know--and even everyone I don't--to read about my boring quotidian experiences and/or political opinions!"?
A jackass. That's what kind of person.
That said, if I'm going to be joining the jackasses, I might as well be the best jackass I can be. So, if you found yourself stumbling onto this site from my Facebook profile, that's the explanation. To loosely paraphrase Stewie Griffin, I may have a blog, but I have it ironically.
By the way--does anyone know if I should be censoring myself? Obviously, everything that gets put up here lives forever on the Internet, but I'm not really concerned about future employers. I'm more worried that I might be violating some Light Fellowship bloggers' standards for decency. If so, a heads-up would be nice.
Friday, May 23, 2008
The saga begins... soon.
As anyone who knows me is well aware, I find blogging morally objectionable. However, it's better than having to write a summarizing essay at the end, so, for the rest of the summer, I will be regaling you, my (very few or nonexistent) readers with wild and wacky exaggerations of my daring exploits in Tokyo.
The program doesn't start until the 13th, but I'll be arriving early, on June 6th, to get a solid week of partying into my system before the subsequent 8 solid weeks of partying that will undoubtedly constitute my Light Fellowship.
I look forward to it. お母さんへ言葉.
The program doesn't start until the 13th, but I'll be arriving early, on June 6th, to get a solid week of partying into my system before the subsequent 8 solid weeks of partying that will undoubtedly constitute my Light Fellowship.
I look forward to it. お母さんへ言葉.
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