yanana & yurukyara

Gifu's not exactly the richest prefecture in Japan. Those expecting to see the flashing neon lights or the ever-reliable, clean subway systems of Tokyo will probably be disappointed by the amount of old concrete buildings showing their age in Gifu city and the less-than-hourly buses leaving Gifu station. In my area, which is in the outskirts of Gifu city, The local bus comes only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I've heard that the local bus' main purpose is to help transport elderly ladies for their grocery shopping.

Granted, it's probably unreasonable to expect every prefecture to be just as hi-tech as Tokyo, but Gifu's true colours seemed to shine at the recent yuru-kyara summit. It was a special festival meant to celebrate yuru-kyara, literally translated as "weak/lame mascot" all around Japan.  There seems to be an unspoken rule in Japan that everything requires its own mascot.


Yes, I mean everything.

Chidejika: The Digital Broadcasting TV Deer.


So, yuru-kyara are the answer for those organisations to poor to get a professional to design one for them. Why waste money on a professional when you can just make a mascot on your own?

Some of these mascots become famous enough for their lameness that they actually increase the amount of tourists coming to their attractions purely to get a photo with them.

 

Then there are others like Gifu's own Yanana. She's the mascot of Yanagase, a shopping distract in Japan that's seen better days.

According to Google, she's supposed to be modelled off a mermaid  statue that's seen around the Yanagase arcade entrance.  I'm guessing the resemblence is more uncanny once she removes the box off her head.

making history, or possibly ruining it. either or.

After being in Japan for over two years now, it's kinda easy to forget the seemingly weird situation that I'm in. Just because I speak English, I'm invited to international events to represent my country. I've been asked to do English lessons with people because of my knowledge of medical and scientific terms - my knowledge, which only stems from watching Grey's Anatomy. These so called 'skills' and 'knowledge' that are just things you could find in almost anyone back home, but being a token foreigner in an isolated city makes them oddly in demand.

My token foreigner skills came in handy again for getting an extra English job on Mondays. It involves teaching a small group of 3-4 year olds English for an hour. By "teaching", it involves chasing them around for most of the time getting them to sit down and listen before I sing "London Bridge" or teach them how to play Rock Paper Scissors. And by "an hour",  it includes 15 minutes of snack eating time with the kids.

But the weirdest part of my job? I'm doing the lesson at one of the mother's family's temples, because, you know, it's totally normal for a family to have one. At first, I just figured that we were going to be on temple grounds and doing it in some building there, but after going to see it on Monday, I can confirm that it is in fact, inside the actual temple. Unlike most of the famous temples in Japan, which are now reconstructions, this temple is the original building that was built over 400 years ago, and apparently was made for Tokugawa Ieyasu's sister.

So, to sum up, I'm being paid to play with kids in a 400-year temple that was at one stage owned by a family member of one of the most historically significant people in Japan. Yeah, definitely not something that I would normally do back home in Australia.

kobe beefin'

So while my last trip to Kobe involved staying at a capsule hotel, seeing foreigner houses, and making my way outside of Kobe, I kinda neglected to go for the main reason most people know Kobe: beef. After deciding for the third year in a row that this year is going to be my last year in Japan as a JET, I figured that I couldn't leave without trying some Kobe beef in Kobe and seeing what all the fuss was about.

So, with yet another long weekend looming, and no other major places in Japan we still were wanting to see, we figured it'd be the perfect time to make a 2 night trip to Osaka and Kobe. There wasn't much we really wanted to do in Osaka, but figured if we were making the effort to Kobe, we might as well visit Osaka for a day too, and hope we'd find something to do there.

So to recap: Planned a weekend essentially around going to Kobe for the sole purpose of eating beef. Yes, that's what my life's come to now.

And I think I'm loving it.

After finding a restaurant that had a few awards for their quality Kobe beef, We ended up with a ¥9000 (about $100) on beef. And that was the lunch special set too. All in all, we got about 130g of beef along with salad, vegetables, soup and coffee. I wouldn't say it was a steal, but not too shabby.

The awesome part of the meal was having our personal chef prepare the beef for us teppanyaki style, seeing him cook and slice the beef right in front us. Searing the beef, the chef diced the beef with his razor-sharp knife, and put a big slab on a wooden rack. Not wanting to cook all the beef at once and let it go cold as we ate it with the freshly-cooked vegetables, he cooked it piece by piece and put it on our plates, so each piece was freshly cooked, to be eaten with our choice of salt, pepper, fried garlic, ponzu, or wasabi & soy.

It was really amazing. I couldn't stop the unintentional "mmms" from coming out as I savoured each bite. And each bite, while coming from the same piece of steak, tasted kinda different in each way. We started off with a leaner piece, which was full of beefy flavour and slightly chewy. Each other piece of steak melted in your mouth as the flavour slowly spread throughout your mouth. Even the huge chunk of fat that was part of the steak wasn't wasted - it was cooked for about 15 minutes cut into smaller pieces. Eating it as it was, it surprisingly was full of flavour and not greasy at all!

I'm kinda really afraid about becoming a beef snob now. It was SO good, and especially after eating Japanese marbled beef for the last 2 and a bit years, going back to lean Aussie steak might be a struggle...

do you like typhoons?

It's the question I've been asked all day today. And, it's kinda weird that students are all saying yes... Aren't potentially-dangerous natural weather phenomenons supposed to be feared rather than liked? 

Despite the slight anxiousness I'm having about my very first typhoon experience, I can kinda understand where they're coming from. It's kinda like a snow day, where it's an excuse for everyone to not have to go to school. It's things like this that make me wish sometimes that I didn't grow up in a city that only experienced relatively mild weather.

So, if it's an unplanned day of no school, shouldn't I be more excited? Well, yeah, I would, if a "no school day" actually meant not going to school. Actually in my first year back, one of my teachers was telling me about the procedures for a typhoon - essentially a siren will sound warning everyone to stay inside their homes for safety reasons.With torrential rain and winds reaching more than 70 metres per second, people young and old alike are urged to stay home and not go to school, and the same thing is supposed to be for businesses as well. 

But for teachers, rather than stay home and you know, be safe, they're expected to report to school. For most people, that involves commuting in their car up to an hour or so... in the middle of typhoon weather. For me at the time, it meant that the moment I heard the typhoon siren, I was supposed to get on my bike and ride 30 minutes through ridiculously heavy rain, winds that are more than double the top speed of my kei-car to come to school and sit at my desk while my students that I was supposed to teach that day are all staying at home. 

I was talking about this to one of my teachers, and they were like "Yeah, teachers come to school in typhoons." seemingly nonchalant and not at all shocked that one's job stipulates commuting to school in the middle of weather so strong the national weather bureau is recommending people to stay indoors... What the hell, right?

pictionary depictions

One thing I like about teaching kids here in Japan is the ability to play Pictionary in class and pretend that it’s an educational game. And, generally, it seems to work – most kids seem to like it, since it involves drawing and not just doing work out of the textbook, and I like it because it’s, well, Pictionary- like the best board game ever!

I haven’t played the game at all this school year – which is a first, since I usually like to pull it out whenever I don’t’ know what to teach or my teachers are also struggling to think of a game. This time, for an All Play, or when one person from each group had to draw, I got them to draw me. Yes, it was kinda self-indulgent, but I just wanted to see what my students thought of me and how they could convey “Narin” in less than a minute.

I’m pretty impressed with some of the pictures. what scares me though is that all the groups eventually guessed it was me, even with some extremely questionable pictures involved.

Do I really look that much like a murder-scene body outline?

no escape from japan in china

Oh Japan. Even when I go overseas, I still feel your influence. Another week of public holidays meant I had to travel somewhere and take advantage of it. The result? China, a little more expensive than I was expecting it to be, but still awesome since it's a country I've never been to before and never thought I would in my lifetime get to see.

We just recently discovered the awesomeness of online tour packages from Okinawa, where we realised we could find tour companies' "tours", which can involve as little as flights and accommodation, or be complete with giant Japanese tour bus, tour guides waving flags for tourists to follow, and be packed with inadequately-short stops at a bunch of famous tour places. While we went for the DIY Okinawa tour last time, only having 4 days, we opted for the latter this time, to make sure we could see everything we wanted to, without the hassle of planning it in another language.

I started getting super excited when I got my package from the tour company - it came with stickers we had to wear to identify ourselves as members of the tour group. While I laugh at the busloads of tourists following flags everywhere else, I've always secretly wanted to be mindless and just follow a flag to take me to all the places I should see.

Arriving in Tianjin with our stickers attached, we were greeted by a nervous looking tour guide, who obviously was shocked and freaked out about greeting non-Japanese people. After the awkward greetings and the sighs of relief when she realised we could understand Japanese, we were taken to the transport outside to take us into Beijing. so much for my dreams of being on a big J-tour bus.

Turns out, there were other Japanese people on the same tour as us. Just separated. Apparently, the tour company was worried after seeing our foreign names that we might not be able to understand the Japanese tour, so decided to separate us from the rest of the Japanese goup. While it did give us the freedom to just hang with who we came with, it was almost like being put in the "special" group for people who couldn't interact with the regulars. It was a little insulting.

But oh Japan, while I do feel insulted that you separated us from the regular group, which while feeling mean is probably something done out of consideration of us, you still gave us a tour guide that spoke Japanese and not a single word of English. Despite your concerns about us not understanding the Japanese tour. Even our Japanese-speaking tour guide was asking why we didn't request an English-speaking guide.

The weirdest moment came as we were buying snacks for a Chinese circus show. Finding all these awesome-looking snacks, me and my friends were discussing what to get in English, while conveying that in Japanese to our guide for her to order for us in Chinese. The shop lady was just giving us weird looks and laughing, since she had no idea what language to speak to any of us hearing 3 languages flying about.

Oh Japan. Thanks to you, my whole image and experience of my first new country-visit outside of Japan is all in Japanese.

sports festival relay

Another year, and another school sports festival to look forward to. Well, for everyone except me. Turns out, I'm not good at the whole cheering thing - especially when I don't know if I should cheer in English or Japanese, so instead of the whole "wooo! You can do it! Go red team!" or whatever the equivalent is in Japanese that I should be saying, all that comes out is a seemingly half-arsed clap and little "Yay!", which I'm sure comes off as even more insincere to Japanese ears as well. It must be a consequence of not actually following any sport at all for as long as I remember.

I'm totally convinced my lack of enthusiasm got me demoted this year. Last year, I was part of the white team, and as opposed to my first year, where I wasn't part of any team, half-arsed cheered just my team, and not every team. I'm pretty sure the teachers noticed - at the post-sports festival staff party, all the teachers were given pictures of themselves during the festival- the only one of me that I got was one with me standing, arms crossed, blankly staring in the general direction of the sports field. If that was the best picture they found of me, then I clearly was not as convincing as I was hoping to be.

So while I suck at the whole being supportive thing, I was a little disappointed that I wouldn't be involved. Granted, while I'm not considered a real teacher here and my limited Japanese means I'm not able to really supervise kids or anything, I would've liked to have some role, however menial. I would've been happy with anything.

Anything except for the teacher's relay. It was the traumatic part of my first year that I've blocked out for as long as I could. Just after I got here two years ago, I was asked to join the relay. Actually, I can't imagine anything else I could detest even more. Seriously, me and running brings back flashbacks of being that kid everyone would tag and be 'it', and would stay 'it' for pretty much the rest of the game. But, trying to please everyone, and being optimistic, I said yes. After all, what's the worst that could happen?

Well, my sucking happened, that's what. Like, really sucking. I hadn't run for ages before that, so while I was beaten by everyone else in the relay, I just assumed that they were just the fast kids at the school. After going back to the team tents, I was greeted with pointing,  laughs and "why are you so slow?" If I was naked and forgot to study for the huge test today, it would've been that dream I had all through school.

But, that was two years ago, I'm sure everyone forgot about that, right? While there are new teachers, apparently my reputation precedes me. As the teachers were working out the two relay teams, I managed to persuade my vice principal to let the other new teachers who were keen join the relay. "Oh! that's right! You're really slow!" said my vice principal. Embarrassing? Yes, but anything to get out of the relay.

Apparently, I didn't realise how embarrassing it could get. I'm still involved in the relay. Although, because I'm slow, they've put me on the female teachers' relay team, since they couldn't get enough female teachers who wanted to run. So not only am I going to lose, I'm now going to lose to a bunch of prepubescent girls as the only guy in the relay. Can it get any worse

 Man, I really hope there's no test that I have to study for that day, and that I remember to wear clothes.

i have a problem.

Okay, I'm not going to lie.

Mango (Miyazaki)

I think my marimokkori collection is getting a little out of hand.

Momotaro (Okayama)

It's not my fault! There are just so many places I really want to visit in Japan, and I want a small memento to remember that trip. Plus, while regional Hello Kitties are super popular and ubiquitous, I wanted to get something that's a little less common and also something that shows when I went there - after all, how long can this well-endowed moss ball dude be that popular for?

Sasebo Burger (Nagasaki)

Then, it happened. A couple of my marimokkoris fell off my phone, meaning my collection was getting smaller. What was I to do but buy another one to replace it? Sounds completely reasonable, right?

Kung Fu Pork Bun Head (Kobe)

Then, what happens if I go to that prefecture multiple times? Shouldn't I get multiple different ones to represent each individual trip I made as well?

Kuidaore Taro (Osaka)

Some experiences aren't regionally based, but I still want to remember them - like teaching at preschool, and going to an amusement park, so might as well get some non-regional (but still equally limited edition) marimokkori to commemorate those as well!

Long-necked ghost

Plus, some are just funny.

St. Francis Xavier (Nagasaki)

Then, my super awesome friends, knowing about my appreciation of all things green and crotchy marimokkori would out of the goodness of their hearts, buy me a keystrap as a souvenir. It'd be totally mean and disrespectful to not accept it, right?

Pearl Diver (Mie)

So fortunately, the first few I got were from places I had been to but before my collection started, so it was totally okay. Then, I got a few more from places I had driven through, which technically counts, since I have been there, just never stopped to see what it's all about.

Hotaru Squid (Toyama)

But, after a while, my friends started going to places I had never been to before. Some of which, I probably won't ever be able to visit, due to time restraints or lack of money. I still can't refuse their acts of kindness, AND, realistically, I'll never be able to go to all the places in Japan. Why deprive myself from getting mementos? If anything, they'll give me an idea of what's famous in each area, and help me decide where I want to go in this next year. If anything, it's helping the economy of these marimokkori places, since it's motivating me to visit these places. And, in a recession, shouldn't we all be doing our part to support people's jobs and stuff?

Sugi Tree (Yakushima)

Like I said, I know I have a problem, and I'm still working on how to get over it.

On a completely unrelated note, If you're going to Takamatsu any time soon, there was something I couldn't find while I was there, so if you do go, let me know...

escape from zombie island

Okay, so we weren't exactly trapped on the island, and it wasn't exactly littered with the living undead. But still, stepping off the boat onto Gunkanjima kinda felt like we were stepping off onto the perfect setting for the next Japanese horror movie.

Seriously, with a name like "warship island", the possibilities are endless! It's a little somewhat disappointing to hear the actual history of the place: It was an uninhabited island until the early 1910s, when they decided to mine the coal from the island until resources ran out, and abandoned it in 1974. Although, it does boast the world's first concrete building, as well as being in its peak, the most densely populated area in the world (about 9 times more populated than Tokyo).

Since it's still relatively obscure, the city of Nagasaki should've made something up to increase its draw of tourists or something. I'm sure that telling tourists that reason it became abandoned was because of the miners uncovering a zombie or curse would be much better.

fuk!

Aaah, Fukuoka. When I first looked up information about what to do in Fukuoka, other than it's "city in a city" shopping centre, not that many sights came up that made me that interested in visiting the city. The only thing came that kept coming up was that they were famous for food. Would that really be enough to entertain me for two whole days?

Oh, how little I know me.

The first night we arrived happened to coincide with a huge fireworks display right across from our hotel. One of the few things that Gifu has to boast about is the fact that they hold two of the largest fireworks displays in all of Japan, which costs somewhere in the millions of dollars and goes for a couple hours. So, fortunately that left us with a perfect opportunity to roam arounds the streets of fukuoka while most other people flocked to the direction we had just come from.

Once we got into the heart of the ctiy, we found some yatai - food stalls with seating set up right on the streets. I would usually associate that kind of food with Thailand or other parts in Asia, so it was an unexpected change from the regular restaurants that I've seen throughout the Japan.

mushroom tempura

We settled for the emptiest one, which turned out to be a the only tempura stall as well. If my obsession with travel/food shows has taught me anything, is that the food places with lines for a reason, and vice versa. But, after talking to one of the other customers at the stall, turns out this place normally attracts a huge line of locals - the locals who all happpened to be watching fireworks - which is why the other tour guide -approved stalls were full.

Oh man, I don't even know where to start with how awesome the place was. It was run by a husband and wife who had been running this stall for 30 years - the husband's father was one of the first families to start up this yatai thing in Fukuoka. The drinks were cheap (5 bucks for like a litre bottle of beer), and the experience of watching this old man make fresh tempura batter out of the back of his truck, fry things in front of us and eat them straight away was amazing. Best tempura ever.

The next day, after making our way to the "city-within-a-city" shopping centre, we found ichiran, a famous chain for their tonkotsu ramen. Though I've been to a Ramen shop with tickets before, this one took their ramen a little more seriously. partitions separated customers with a curtain right in front. the waiters opened the curtain collect the ramen preference sheet and serve the food with minimal talking and eye contact. Apparently, it's to help customers appreciate the flavour of the ramen, though with Ramen this tasty, it didn't really need much help.

Dammit, I was hoping to go to Fukuoka just to say I've now visited every one of the main islands of Japan, but now all I'm thinking about is eating awesome ramen and tempura again.

mii business cards

Okay, so I don't have a business per se, but I just figured I should get some business cards in Japan. After all, people seem to use them here more often than back home when they meet friends and stuff like that. I guess it makes sense, since Japanese writing system isn't completely phonetic, and so just after hearing how someone says their name doesn't mean you'll be able to write down their name properly either. Plus, people's mobiles have their own number and email address, so you can't SMS someone using their phone number. And some phone emails aren't the easiest to remember. A friend of mine has an email address that has 15 periods right in the middle of the address. Just because. So yeah, business cards seemed like the way to go.

And what better way to get business cards than to get them from my Wii? They were free after all, and, at least if they're professionally printed, they should come out better than my failed attempt to make my own before coming to Japan. Sure, it did involve me having to buy enough Nintendo software and stuff to get enough points to redeem for my 30 cards, but they're totally worth it.

Now all I need to do is find someone who actually needs a business card from me. Any takers?

hello sensei

The whole day today, one of my 4-year-old preschool kids, who I've now taught for almost 2 years, kept saying "Hello Sensei" to me. I just kept saying hello back, and he'd just continue talking.

Turns out, it's quite easy to maintain a conversation in Japanese with a preschooler, since it mainly involves a combination for the following:

a) repeating the verb they said with a rising intonation, making it sound like you're just getting confirmation about what they said.
b) hontou? "Really?"
c) sugoi!"That's awesome!"
d) a random English word, for when they may ask you what a Japanese word is in English (that you don't know in Japanese)

And, on the whole, you can get by sounding like you've totally understood what they say.

"I got a new toothbrush!"

"You got one? Really?"

"Yeah, it's blue and has Pikachu on it!"

"Really? That's awesome!"

"What's dinosaur in English?"

"um.... Cow. It's Cow."

It does only work though on the assumption that kids just talk about what they normally do. If they talk about something random or new, I'm a little screwed, since I've only got the same responses.

"I punched Kenta in the face today...."
"Punched? Really? That's awesome!"
"What's his name in English?
"Um... Cow. It's Cow."

Anyways, so after talking to this 4-year-old today, I was having my standard preschool conversation, but I couldn't help notice that the conversation seemed really weird. I had been talking to this kid for 10 minutes, and he'd still keep saying "Hello Sensei!", even though we had just greeted each other three or four times already. Up until that point, I was just chalking up him saying Hello multiple times to the fact that he was 4 years old, and so didn't think about it much and kept saying "Hello!" back, before going back to our regular conversation. After talking to him for a bit longer, he asked me "Does Hello Sensei speak Japanese?"

Then, it dawned on me. He's not greeting me. He thinks my name is Hello. He's been calling me Mr. Hello this whole time. I was kinda conflicted. Sure, it's ridiculously cute that a 4 year old thinks my name is Mr Hello and you can't help but laugh. But then, what the hell has he been thinking I've been doing for the last 2 years? Each time I come into the classroom to teach English and say "Hello!" the whole time, does he think that I've just been announcing my name, and getting everyone to practice saying it? And, just in our conversation, every time he's been trying to call me, I've been repeating back to him what he thinks is my name. Does he think I just like to randomly shout my name to people and smile and wave at the same time?

i am standing

"You are standing!"

cried Ryo, one of my favourites in 1st year. I kinda like him because he's actually one of the few that is yay-English, and likes me more than the adequate amount, for some reason. I didn't think twice about the fact he's been saying this to me for the past month, and giggles like every single time. Does he just think that stating the obvious in English is that hilarious? After seeing a comedian who dances around in a speedo spouting the same catch phrase, and  another comedian who has become famous for counting, I just chalked it up to me not getting Japanese humour at all. And who am I to judge when a kid wants to practice using the present continuous verb form?
    "Yes, I am" I reply, to which I'm again greeted by some huge chuckles and laughs. Yep, it's definitely gotta be some weird Japanese humour thing.

***

At an enkai, or staff party, I'm sitting on a table with a few other teachers I don't normally get to speak to. Being a staff party, beer is flowing and many teachers are bright red and talking loudly. One of my favourite teachers has told everyone that it's English time and all teachers have to speak English, Turning to the other science teacher, who just returned from his honeymoon earlier that year, my favourite teacher asks him in broken English, "Are you having a baby?"
"Oh, no no no no," replies the science teacher, shaking his head.
"Really? Why?"
"My boy, no stand up please. Stand up please, no!"

A little confused, I look to another English teacher who appears to almost be in the middle of wetting herself. Determined to understand what the science teacher has said in broken English, I ask him to repeat himself. Once again, he says "My boy," this time emphasizing it while pointing to his crotch, "is not standing, no!! My wife is very sad."

I kinda wish he didn't manage to get his point across.  It would have saved me from an awkward overshare from a drunken teacher, while remaining blissfully unaware that one of my favourite students has been mocking me this whole time and not as into English grammar as I thought he was.

j-bands & karaoke

It's hard trying to stay motivated about learning a language I hear everyday, and where the fear of needing to make the most of your time in a country while you can dissipates after realising you've been in the country for almost two years, and will be staying for another year.  Moreso when you find out your employer doesn't have the money to let you do the interpreting/translating course you really wanted to do in your third year.

But one thing that I've tried to do at least is learn a couple of Japanese songs for the inevitable times I go to karaoke with a Japanese person. Which actually turns out to be ridiculously hard. It essentially involves learning lyrics that you don't actually completely understand and sound like complete gibberish, which makes it hard to remember. On top of that, when those songs are performed at karaoke, the lyrics may be written in kanji, or non-phonetic Chinese characters, meaning that even if you do recognise a character like 歌, you might not know if it's supposed to be said as "uta" or "ka" if you don't know the whole word. Because of that, I'm usually sticking to really simple, slowish songs. I did try once to tackle Japanese rap, but I like to pretend that never really happened.

I'm also becoming quite aware that the natural consequence of being surrounded by a culture with a second language is not having much, if any, awareness of the pop-culture, and what's cool and what's not. It's kinda like how we might know differences in nuance between words like icky and disgusting, but for anyone who's learning English, might not get the difference. It feels like it's the same with me and Japanese music. I can hear the melodies and tunes to songs, but I can't quite tell what music is cool and my-age-appropriate or not. I now have a much better understanding of my angsty, ragey boys at school who feel that Avril Lavigne is the epitome of hardcore rock.

So that's why I'm conflicted about whether I should be learning songs by this Japanese band called EXILE (that's right, it's spelt in all capitals, so I think it's normally shouted in Japanese in the middle of a regular sentence).  Think Backstreet Boys, if this was the 90's and they didn't try to do a failed reunion thing. They are a boy band, so as you can imagine, are emblazoned on pencil cases and lots of teenager paraphernalia, but unlike boy bands back home, are actually liked by guys here too.

One thing I do appreciate about them is that they make no pretenses about the fact that not all of them can sing. Out of the 7-group "band", only two are singers, while the others are "performers", meaning they do ridiculous boy band dances for all their ballady songs and don't even hold mikes and pretend to sing, or even try to hide the fact that they're not a real band. I kinda like them even more now actually, since they amalgamated with this other boyband and there are now 14 members. Still, with only the two of them that actually sing. It makes watching their music videos on youtube much more exciting.



I don't quite see it, but some students were trying to tell me that I looked like one of the singers in the group. Not completely buying it, but I like the idea that I look like someone just so I have a potential idea for a halloween costume. Maybe I should give up my dream of having my own Japanese posse and just start wearing all white and get 12 other guys to follow me around and do well-practiced dances around me instead.

the retarded sweet potato cousin

Holidays are meant to be fun. Obviously, it's a time to relax and take a break from your regular life. AND, for me, one other important thing:

Marimokkori.

As sad as it is, part of the reason I get so excited about travelling in Japan is discovering new Marimokkori from a different part of Japan. So, counting down the days to my trip to Okinawa in April, I was pumped to see what new well-endowed green dude phone-strap was waiting for me. Sure, there isn't a Marimokkori in every single prefecture in Japan, but I was heading to Okinawa, one of the more famous places in Japan. There was bound to be like a dozen different ones available, right?

Unfortunately, searching the numerous tourist souvenir shops along Kokusai Doori resulted in nothing but this:



Beni-imokkori aka Sweet Potato dude. Apparently, the people of Okinawa had conspired to remove the semi-famed green character for this substandard, local one. Sure, Marimokkori's namesake, the Marimo, or moss ball, was nowhere to be found in Okinawa, but that hasn't stopped him from being found everywhere else in Japan! Why did they decide to replace him with his lame cousin? Who, might I add, is a lot less gifted than his more popular cousin.

So sure, I had an awesome, unforgettable time in Okinawa, but I left Okinawa a little disappointed. Fingers crossed that my friend's search for the beloved green dude went a little more successful than mine!

english journals

Okay, so since I just came back from a 4 day fun-filled trip in Okinawa, so you'd think I'd have stuff to fill you in on, right? The places I went, the things I saw, the giant crotch-adorned things I bought... Well, I do, but I just don't know where to start, and since I imagine it'll be a fairly time-consuming post, I'll save it for when I've got a little more time.

In the mean time though, I thought I'd show this. As part of my decision to stay for yet another year in Japan (three... eeeshk..) I thought I'd try and make sure I make the most of my time - ie travel and job-wise. On the job front, I'm hoping to make my job more rewarding, by trying to start more things in my school. One of which was making the 3rd years write a journal, since everyone says their writing sucks. I figured that since I had enough time to study Japanese, read, email, and pissfart around, I could make a bit of time for correcting their journals, since the other teachers seem so consumed with... well, actual work. Plus, I thought giving 14-year-olds the freedom to write whatever they want, with the limited English skills they had, would be a reward in itself. And, after only a week of doing this journal thing, I think it's already paid off.

borderline obsession

You know when a hobby's becoming more of an obsession when you realise you're going on holiday in a week, escaping your landlocked prefecture for beautiful beaches, scuba diving, and a awesome food, and the first thing that pops in your head is the fact that you can get a new boner green dude to add to your collection.

This one's my most recent one from Nagashima spaland in Mie, despite what its name implies, is one of the largest amusement parks in Japan (second behind Disneyland). It also houses the longest roller coaster in the world, and the largest wooden roller coaster in the world as well. Unfortunately, despite being there this Steel Dragon phone strap is probably the closest I'll get to riding the longest roller coaster in the world. After a day trip there filled with lines, waiting, and rides, turns out I don't actually like roller coasters as much as I thought I did. Rather than excitement, I was filled more with dread, angst, and a dry raspy throat from screaming on too many rides. Being the genius that I am, it did take about five or six rides to realise that I hated them. The point I realised I was not a fan was seeing The Magic Carpet, a ride for kids, and just thinking about the whole list of other things I would rather do than go on the kids ride.

school lockdown

"They're here!"

The Vice Principal ducks down, and peeps through the blinds to see a number of legs walk past the window. He signals to the other teachers to prepare themselves for what's going to happen.

The new teachers, sitting at their desks they were just allocated the previous day, look around nervously, not knowing what to expect, or for how long it will go for. They sheepishly grin at each other, hoping that it will pass soon enough.

BANG BANG BANG!

The windows that span the whole length of one side of the staffroom reverberate the sound. All the blinds have been closed in preparation for this too, so only the slightest ray of sunshine comes into the staffroom. After each bang, the blinds sway little bit more each time.

"It's okay," the Vice Principal reassures everyone. "Just ignore them, they'll be gone soon enough." The banging continues for another few minutes, getting louder and louder, and moving in a wave from one side of the room to the other. "The main entrance doors are locked, right?"

I look at my watch. It's 4:47. If only I had left right on the dot at 4:30, as my contract says, and not wasted any time leaving, now I just have to wait patiently till this is all over. At least it won't happen again next week, when school starts.

At the moment, it's the school break. Just last week we had the last day of school. But unlike schools back in Australia, the last day of school is shrouded in secrecy. Teachers in Japan are employed by the prefecture, not by the school directly, meaning that once they become a teacher, they have little to no choice about which school they'll be teaching at, and they don't know how long they'll be there. All the placements are decided by the prefectures. So, teachers can find themselves working in a school 2 hours away from their home, in the middle of nowhere, and having to move without a single complaint.

It's usually the younger, less experienced teachers that get the short end of the stick though. Initially, as a qualified teacher, you're expected to work at a school for 3 years, before moving you to another school As they get more senior, they can request if you want to stay at the school for another year or not, and also request what area you want to teach in. To top it all off though, teachers only find out during the last week of school where they'll be going. So, theoretically, you might be asked to move to the middle of nowhere, find a place to live, and get ready for work within a week.

The secrecy though continues on til the very last day of school. Teachers aren't allowed to tell the students if they're leaving or not (despite how traumatising it may be) and students are kept in the dark until the last assembly, where they sit and wait in the hall for the doors to swing open, and see the parade of teachers who are leaving enter the assembly hall. It almost seems like a Japanese reality TV show aiming to toy with kids' emotions by giving them no sense of stability whatsoever.

Once school is over, and the teachers clear their desks and leave, the following day, new teachers come, and are kept up to date with the processes in the school and everything else. once they're officially welcomed with the first staff meeting, it's back to work, preparing for the new school year at their desks in the staffroom.

In the meantime, since the new teachers haven't been introduced yet, the school is now completely locked, and the blinds are drawn to stop any students from seeing the new teachers before they should.

Which is why I'm still at my desk at 4:58. I'm waiting for my new 2nd year students (who we just had a meeting about yesterday to fill in the new teachers) to stop banging on the windows and trying to take a peek at the new teachers before the new school year starts. Why are kids who hate school so much hanging around school on the last day of spring vacation anyway? I kinda feel sorry for the new teachers. To me, the banging comes from the little brats that I've been used to seeing for the past year, but for them, they're just faceless unknown attackers trying to smash all the windows at school.

it's nalin

Oh, Special Education helper teacher, how I'll miss you. First, you made the effort to talk to me and say hi, and invited me (though possibly tokenly, I'm still unsure) to use your house in Okayama if I ever went there. And on top of that, you actually helped me when I was "teaching" the Special Education class, as opposed to the Special Education homeroom teacher, who would normally sit behind his desk and be oblivious to the fact that all 3 boys with behavioural disorders would be screaming, shouting, breaking things, and throwing things at me.

And you invited me to your house to meet your family, and prepared a huge feast. You even told your husband that I was Australian and my parents were Thai, so he could buy Fosters and Singha for me while I ate your really awesome sukiyaki.

And, to top it all off, you made me this really cool keychain as a farewell present:



And although you did me ask me afterwards if my name was spelt right, and I lied and said that it was, I really appreciate the gift. I just didn't have the heart to tell you that it's not with an 'L', and hoped that you leaving the school would mean you wouldn't have to notice this mistake. I really hope you know how much I like the keystrap. And, that you never stumble upon this blog either.

What type of poo are did you do today?

Aaah, preschools. Is there any better cure for Mondayitis than playing with little kids for a day and getting paid for it?

My last visit to this preschool for this year was a lot less emotional and sentimental than I thought it would be. I guess I was spoilt last year, when the kids who were 'graduating' preschool did a dance for me on my last visit. But this year, it went by without much fuss, which was probably a good thing.

But anyways, while it is fun playing with kids, I think the other half of the enjoyment I get from visiting schools is seeing the different things and ways kids are taught here compared to back home. There's the uber-adorable kyushoku song, which is the song they sing before they eat so kids can practice saying the set expression before eating, and there's also the way in which the 5-year-olds were taught how to remember  what they were playing in the mini-drum band. Rather than having music sheets, the kids read off an illustrated poster, which had faces of  anpanman, fruits, and other random objects. When students played the drums, they memorised the order of all the random objects, and hit the drums in accordance to however many syllables there were for each picture (strawberry, or ichigo, had 3 syllables, so they had to hit the drums for 3 beats and rest on the 4th beat).

But my favourite educational tool seen so far is this board game, that depicts the digestive system, and tracks how food starts off as food, and ends up in poo. And, being Japan, it involves illustrations of happy poo characters. I'm getting a feeling that Japan has a strange obsession with cute faecal matter...

preschool visits

hate Mondayitis. that feeling on Sundays where you're dreading the next upcoming week of work seems to be exacerbated in Japan, when we seem to be travelling or doing something huge each weekend, and while friday and saturday are fun, it's usually the sunday that involves being tired and making our way back home, that doesn't make it that much more fun.

Last weekend, we ended up visiting my friend who lives in Shirakawa, a village that's normally about 2 1/2 hours drive north of my area in Gifu. after having a chilled weekend, filled with sights, fancy beef, and an addictive PS3 game that involves dancing sack people, we ended up leaving his place at around 4:30, hoping to make it back by 7. Unfortunately, the expressway that separates his place and mine just happens to have a part that normally clogs and becomes a traffic jam for 11 kms or more, and chuck in a couple accidents, and it makes a normally tolerable 2 1/2 hour drive into a 4-5 hour one. After getting home at 9:45 I really wasn't in the mood for school the next day.

Which is really a tragedy, since I'm always feeling like this about Mondays even though I'm aware that Mondays is usually the most fun of the week.

You see, Mondays are preschool visit days. This school year, I've been visiting three different preschools in the area. While the thought of dealing with a whole classroom of 4-5 year-olds was daunting at first, I'm now actually enjoying it.

the thing I like about teaching this level at preschools is the fact that I'm kinda like an uncle/aunt visiting their nephews - I get to play with them and do all the fun things, without the responsibility of feeding them and looking after them. So, while I have to teach each class for like max 30 minutes a day (the 3-year-olds only have 10 minute lessons) the rest of the day is essentially spent playing with them. One preschool actually gives me my own "rest room", complete with cushions and a table for me to sit at and have my own nap time while I wait for for kyushoku, or school lunch.

Oh, and school lunch! I can't remember if I blogged about this before or not, but kyushoku is awesome - from preschool to junior high, kids get kyushoku - it's a meal that a city lunch center makes and ships to each of the schools while it's still hot, and kids in class dish out the food to everyone in class. Since it's supposed to be nutritionally balanced, it's easy to see how they've kept their obesity levels so low... that being said, there's always at least one kid in class who will eat everyone else's leftovers.

So, while I'm used to school lunch at junior high, it's more fun at preschool. Granted, the seats are smaller...

... but it really does stroke your ego when kids yell and shout for you to sit at their table. And, it's a bittersweet moment when a kid cries because you don't sit on the table, like awww, I made that kid cry, but yay! they're that upset they didn't sit next to me! Evil, I know. But it's hard not to think that...

And while I do eat the same amount as my kids at junior high, it's not quite the same as in preschool.

Kid's lunch:

My lunch:

and this was one of the days they went easy on me.

And after lunch, if I'm not rubbing 3-year-olds' bellies to help them sleep during nap time, I'm playing with kids, or joining in their activities, be it colouring-in, or making glasses, like today.

Urgh, I hate Mondayitis. My job on Mondays is essentially playing with kids and colouring in with them, and Mondayitis makes me dread it. Maybe preschool would be more exciting if it was on a Tuesday or Wednesday...

elephant game

I try not to have any regrets about the decisions Ive made. Although I was torn up about staying or going for my next year, I think I've made the right decision about staying. Sure, I do miss home and everything, but my decision to stay means I've got another year of job security, an exchange rate in my favour, as well as being able to save up money for the arduous job-searching I have to do when I get back, which I'll probably need considering the current state of the economy. Plus, it means I'll have more time to travel, and if I travel during the school holidays, I can travel whilst still getting paid! Not too shabby, hopefully it means I have time to travel to further away places, like Fukuoka, Hokkaido, and Jesus' grave in Aomori.

It also means I get to see a whole year level of kids all the way through high school, from them being first years til graduation this time next year. I'll also get more time to "teach" English to preschoolers, which I've written about how awesomely cute they are before.

Speaking of which, I guess there is one regret I have involving my preschoolers. Now, I'm so used to playing with them, carrying them and being kanchoued, that I forget how anti-contact they are back home in Australia - I distinctly remember them telling us at uni, while studying to be a teacher that you're not to make any contact with kids at all, even if it's a pat on the back, in case it's misconstrued. This recollection about what we're taught in Australia comes back every now and then in the middle of playing games with kids, and makes me realise how odd and dodgy some "games" are when viewed from an Australian perspective. I realised this after I invented a game with some of my kids that would probably blacklist me from any future job involving children in Australia.

I'm slightly tall, like 185 cm-ish. Which, in Gifu, makes me taller than everyone but the freaks. My preschool kids on the other hand, range from 3-5, aren't. This height difference means one thing.

So, when kids come running towards me to hug me, I quietly pray they slow down enough to now run straight into me. And, I've been quietly perfecting my technique to avoid head-on collisions (though, unfortunately, usually involves turning around, leaving me easy prey to the kid's kanchouing.

Unfortunately, last week, one kid decided to play "let's stick my head between Narin sensei's legs. After putting his head down beneath my legs, and trying to lift it up to seemingly lift me up with his head, I tried to stop him and distract him by picking up his legs. In doing so, it resulted with his head nestled between both legs as he held on tightly to my legs as well. After realising the awkward position I was now in, and coming to terms with my future career with kids in Australia being over, I put down his legs back on the ground, but it was too late.

"Hey look!" screamed the nearby kids. "It's like an elephant!"
"That was fun!" cried the should-be-traumatised boy. "Do it again!" And despite my hesitation, the boy, along with a few other boys who witnessed the event, decided to try and make me play again the only way how. Usually, when we play the 1-2-3 game (where I hold their hands and lift them as high as I can - fun-sounding game, I know) it means that they try to grab my hands in the same position I usually pick them up, just to make sure I know what game they're talking about. This time, the boys were all getting into position to play this new elephant-game I had just created. With their heads bowed down, the boys charge towards me, heading straight for my crotch, so they can get in position and play again.

Oh, man. I'm so sorry kids. I hope next time I visit your school you'll stop calling out elephant and charging at my crotch.

tokyo again! i'm sensing a trend....

Aaah, Tokyo.  It's a place I'll always be amazed with every single time I go. Although I've done the touristy thing there quite a few times, the city feels so huge that I don't think I know it well enough to even recommend places for people to go. But just this past week, a couple friends from Australia visited and kinda expected me to have an idea for some places to go see. They were already planning to visit Kyoto, which is known for its traditional temples, so it seemed kinda pointless seeing any fancy temples or shrines in Tokyo if they were going to spend the next few days seeing them in a much better place. So here were the three places I came up with:

Miracle Fruits Cafe, Ikebukuro

Don't let any stories you may have heard as a kid fool you; there are magic beans. You're supposed to  swish the flavourless bean-shaped fruit around your mouth, like a lolly/candy for a few minutes, and eat it with stuff like this:

This here is lemon and other fruits in a lemon fondue sauce . Apparently the fruit has a special chemical in it that messes with your sweet/sour tastebuds. So while the above fondue tastes ridiculously sour, after having the bean, it makes regular lemon eaten by itself taste like lemonade.

Unfortunately, it's not completely miraculous. It wears out after a short while (I should've ordered two fruits) and while it makes cherry tomatoes super sweet, and regular tomatoes taste like cherry tomatoes, it still makes green juice taste like crap. Rather than getting the tester one, I should've gotten the lemon parfait.

Ninja, Akasaka

I'd been there before, so I already knew how awesome it was. Turns out, when you go again, it's still awesome! I ordered the same course I had last time, but food was still worth it. Which is saying a lot, since it's not the cheapest restaurant in the world. But hey, any restaurant that has food AND ninja magicians must be pretty good...

The Lockup, Shibuya

There weren't many places that could potentially top the ninja restaurant, but this one was pretty close! The theme is kinda confusing, since it's a jail-type themed japanese bar with monsters... I think. Anyways, it's main thing is that it's a restaurant that arrests someone in your group and takes your group to a cell, which happens to have menus and stuff.

Food is surprisingly good (winners: taco-style rice in a hot stone-bowl) and the cocktails are probably the main reason to go. My drug addict cocktail came with a pill you add to the drink, and the experiment cocktail  comes with 5 mixer flavours for a standard cocktail, which are then mixed with the standard beaker by using a dropper. Oh, and one drink has an eye in it.

Wow, who would've thought there'd be such good prison food?

So essentially, seeing Tokyo involved going to a miracle fruits restaurant, a ninja restaurant, and a prison restaurant. I'm just glad my friends are just as preoccupied with food as I am.