What’s a Turkey?

Eeeeh?  Nani Sore? (Whaaa?  What’s that?)

This was the common sentence to come out of my students mouths each time I showed them a picture of a turkey.  This I had not expected this reaction at all.  In fact, I had hoped that the students might even know what I turkey was (This was very foolish since you have a better chance of finding an ice cube in hell than finding one slice of turkey meat in all of Japan).  The students actually thought it looked disgusting!  Now admittedly, a turkey does not look that good when it is a live and gobbling, but still, these are Japanese children who eat a whole shrimp (legs, eyes, eggs, and all) while swallowing raw eel or octopus.

But you ask, “Andrew, why are you showing them turkeys?”

Well my five readers (that’s right, I know who you are ) This is Thanksgiving week and I thought it would be fun to introduce this very important holiday to my students.  So after having them making a turkey out of construction paper using the outline of their hand as the body I proceeded to tell all my students about Thanksgiving.  Of course, since they are only children I chose to stay on the topic of eating way too much and then sleeping all day.  For the older students I actually told them about the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  I even had some pictures of all the giant blimps and bands.

To sum things up.  The kids were slightly interested but still had trouble understanding the idea.  The best part was that even after I showed the students what a turkey looks like cooked, the held strong to their original feelings and argued that it looked good but was still disgusting.

 

BUT! Enough about the lil’ ones.

Let’s talk about my Thanksgiving Day, or the lack there of.

I awoke – For that seems like the most straight forward way to beginning a story that spans and entire day – to find myself inside a hotel room.  Due to poor timing, I was at my hotel school, and therefore away from my own home in Akita.  Beginning the day like any other during this week, I crawled out of bed and squatted in front of my computer to check on the new TV shows and anime to watch – For there is nothing else to do in this small town besides reside upon one’s ass and watch TV/Movies.

Realizing the time was quickly approach 2pm I went out to get the closest thing possible to a Thanksgiving Day meal.  Mutton Curry, Nan, Salad, and Indo tea.

Upon finishing my feast I made my way to the bank.  Seeing as how Japan has no idea what a turkey is, let alone Thanksgiving, I leisurely strolled up to the ATM and paid a few bills along with withdrawing some money.  Turning around, I made my way back to the hotel where I would wait for the time to leave once again and head too work in the evening.

Walking into the classroom I was greeted by the PS (Performance Supervisor) from Aomori who was there to monitor a “challenging” class.  Hoping to find myself in front of a fellow American, his accent quickly gave him away as a Canadian.  Classes began and finished and I once again found myself alone, and walking back to my hotel to feast on a chicken bento and meat bun.

Thinking it best to call home on such an occasion I picked up my phone and put in the corresponding 500 digit number required for any such international call.  Quickly telling my parents to hop on to Skype so we could talk, I found myself dealing with a horrible connection that resulted any multiple glitches, hisses, squeals, and crashes (all from my family’s end since they have a computer that is now 6 years old and way past it’s prime).  The conversation continued for three hours, mostly revolving around my father and me debating who would be a good super hero to have in the next movie and my grandmothers 90th birthday.

Finishing my conversation at 4am, I quickly went to sleep realizing that I had failed to say “Happy Thanksgiving” even once whole the day.

All Wet...

I'm all wet -- And it's not just because of the three weeks of never-ending spitting/drizzles/showers/storms.

I'm all wet because I'm starting to feel the negative effects of living in a rural area like Akita. Loneliness. In all honesty, I think we can agree that I am different. In some cases this might even be a admirable attribute. Unfortunately, this is not one of those cases. I keep awakening to this rather depressing realization that people such as me need to be in big cities where the likelihood of encountering similar individuals is much higher. Akita is no such place. In fact, this city gives "carbon copy" a whole new meaning. There is little diversity within this city, even by Japanese standards. You are either a farmer, small time merchant, one of many high school drop outs, a drunk, or pregnant. This is not an intellectual center to say the least. In other words, I cannot find anyone I can really relate to. So far, all most people do is leave me mildly perturbed.

With all this in mind, I find myself becoming more and more lonely. With little means of entertainment outside of bars, pubs, lounges, izakayas, and clubs, I am at a loss for meeting new and interesting people who are capable of having a conversation without falling over or slurring their words.

I wish I was back in Sendai or Tokyo. Country-life just isn't for me.

In other news....Still disliking my job. It's not the kids that are the problem. Most of them are great and I love them. It's the company and a certain other teacher who makes me want jump off a bridge every time she speaks. I'd push her off, but I don't want to end up in a Japanese prison.

There are two bright sides to this small little rant, the colors of fall:

PRETTY TREES!

NEW SUIT!

Business or Pleasure? – Both

Well, it’s safe to say that I have been busy.  In the course of three weeks I will have made three different “trips” to see friends or for work.  Last week I was in Sendai to visit friends for a short while – That was a 3.5 hour bus ride both ways, yesterday I took a 2.5 hour Shinkansen ride to Morioka for a business meeting with all the other teachers in my region, and this coming week I will be make a 2 hour train ride up to Odate to teach at my “hotel school” for a week.  All in all, a fairly busy schedule with traveling.  In other words, in the course of three weeks I have/will only been/be in my apartment for 4 days.  As much as I like saving on electricity, I do miss being able to sleep in my own bed and cook some nice HOT meals that do no come prepare wrapped.

There is a silver lining to all my travels though.  I have had to opportunity to finally sleep (cue drum roll) in a capsule hotel!  That’s right, my bucket list of “must do’s” for Japan has had an item marked off.  Now all that is left is:

• Battle Godzilla to the death
• Become the true Last Samurai
• Kiss Mao Inoue
• Enjoy a Soap Palace
• Have a maiko fall hopelessly in love with me

In other news…I’m trying to find a place to go buy ice skates since there is a really nice skating rink here in town and I’d like to get back to skating around a lot.  So, for those of you who live in Japan please give me any ideas you might have for where I can buy said hockey skates.

In other, other news…I am a zombie!  And I’ve got the pictures to prove it!

Okonomiyaki, "Music," and The Golden Classroom!

Well, my one week of golden students came to and end on Saturday and I am now stuck waiting another four weeks before I get the chance to meet my favorite students. At this school I really do get to see the students that everyone dreams of having in their classes. They are smart, funny, motivated, and polite. The parents are great too.

It was a great way to cheer me up since I had just realized that I had been chasing a ghost for an entire month.

Since it was parent ops I was given the opportunity to meet the parents briefly along with the siblings. I had a lot of fun, to say the least.

During the lessons, the Japanese Teacher (Nami-sensei) would take the parents back and speak with them about their child and about the classes so that I could still work with the kids and give all the parents a chance to observe my lessons as well.

Apparently I impressed a great number of the parents since some of them even stated that they wanted to join the classes so that I would be their teacher. Talk about stroking my ego, right?

All in all, it was a great classroom.

After the week had finished I went out to dinner with Nami-sensei and she took me to a nice okonomiyaki place. It was wonderful. It meant a lot to me since it was my first time eating okonomiyaki again since I came back to Japan. I wish I had taken pictures for everyone to see, but oh well. I guess I can't always be dragging my camera everywhere, right?

After eating and talking to Nami-sensei about pretty much anything that popped into my head, we headed over to DonQuiote, which is the closest thing to Walmart Japan has, and I got myself some much needed pasta sauce and a wine bottle opener.

The next day I had planed to do errands, but of course it rained (since it has managed to rain almost every day I have off). Seriously weather gods? You gotta rag on me and my coworkers every time we are trying to relax on the weekend? I ended up just getting some hot chocolate at starbucks and heading back to my apartment.

Soon after though I got a call about a music party going on at a local bar so I thought I'd tag along. Of course, my friends was using the word "music" very loosely since it was all experimental crap which would have even made someone tripped out on E scratch their head in confusion. In other words, 1500 yen down the drain. Honestly, even the free drink I got was lousy. I have never heard sounds like I heard that night and I pray to God that I never do again. Maybe it was my classical training or the fact that they just screamed into the microphone while playing out of tune and rhythm on purpose.

I've still been feeling pretty down lately. I'm trying to raise my spirits up again, but it is not easy. I hope I find a nice girl soon. I mean, all this bad luck has got to add up to something, right?

There is obviously something wrong with me. Without a doubt. There is something in my brain -- Some chemical, nerve ending, or small troll which constantly per verses my thoughts and actions. I'm not all together sure as to why it seems like I can truly relate to no one. I don't know why my opinions always seem to be the ugly minority in a group. Maybe I was just born to be a contrary and always work against others.

I just don't seem to fit right. I'm not talking about fitting in with Americans or with Japanese. I'm focusing on humanity as a whole with this statement.

(By the way, if you are wondering. No, nothing awful has happened. I've just had a lot of downtime)

I highly doubt that there is anyone out there who can understand me the way I wish to be understood and who can accept me for who I am. Because it always turns into me being "too (insert adjective)." Too nice, too angry, too sad, too weak, too smart, too stupid, and too childish.

I don't know what has happened to me recently or in my past that has caused me to veer so significantly from the social highway everyone else seems to commute on everyday. While they are cruising by at seventy-five miles per hour, I am crawling down some back road with more than enough time to casually survey any condemned building I pass.

Some may argue that it is the human experience and that there is nothing strange about this. But I would disagree. I would say that it is the "true" human experience but that most people are too foolish or short sighted to ever realize what they are doing or how things are affecting themselves and those around them.

Anyway, this is just another small pondering on why I continue to ostracize myself from everyone else

Tales of a Boring Work Day

Got bored during work today and started having fun with philosophy and word play...

Life is full of it's little ups and downs. At one moment you may find yourself residing in a golden palace sipping delicately at a diamond encrusted goblet and the next you might just be poor innocent fly killed by a farmer protecting the grapes which created the fine wine upon which you were sipping. Of course the same can be said for the recently deceased parasite becoming a king. But then again, if we look at the British royal family, what is the difference between a monarch and a parasite in this modern world?

Semantics aside - if at all possible since it seems unlikely that I will find it near impossible to subjugate myself to writing in such a dull and straight forward tone- One's life is filled with missed opportunities, foolish mistakes, childlike naivety, good fortune, dumb luck, and thoroughly planned successes. If one were to ask why I continue with this string of thought that hardly seems worthy of a quick jump out of the bath shouting "eureka!" they would be adequately answered if I were cease my script at this point, but unfortunately for them, my prose does not come to a halt so soon.

I make mention of these frequent mortal turbulence for the purpose of asking a single, yet all be it slightly ambiguous, question:

Can these good times and bad times and all other juxtapositions found within poorly edited British literature truly be what they are? That is to say, are they good and bad? Are they grand and small? With proper thought and diligence one might witness something miraculous. They may observe that the these seemingly independent moments within one's life are no more separate and qualified than the poorly rolled, and useless, ball of yarn a cat finds such joy in. Since it may easily be agreed upon that missed opportunities and other forms of "misfortune" are present within one's life, it seems as though a curious mind is forced to ask "what makes them poor in comparison to other experiences?" Perhaps at the time of occurrence these circumstances may seem to carry with them a sense of ill fortune, yet does not any one of these inopportune situations lead us down a path towards happiness which would have remained unused if not for the previous fall from grace? It is true that falling from your horse in to a cave may seem utterly deplorable, yet when said cave is actually a mine filled with rare gems what is the verdict? Would that sudden fall still be considered a misery invoking scene of pain and indignation? Of course the same might be said for good fortune and its unwelcome effects on future venture since perhaps the previously imagined mine may be extremely rich but lost in a later, rather costly, divorce settlement brought on by the newfound greed of the wife and husband whom reveled in their fortune.

To better illuminate one's self to this idea let us look into the classic piece of literature "The Count of Monte Cristo.". In the case of Edmond Dantes, it is only through his wrongful imprisonment that he befriends an academic friar who teaches him language, science, math, and philosophy while providing him with the whereabouts of a grand treasure which aids him in making his want for vengeance a reality. That being said, does this misfortune of Edmond turn itself into a grand and lustrous opportunity? Possible, but we must also look into the reasoning for his wrongful imprisonment. It is true that he was betrayed by his friends and neighbor as a traitor to the state and brought to prison, but why did his comrades feel the need to act as such? Jealousy was the cause. Jealously of Edmonds good fortune of becoming a ship captain, of being financially stable, and of holding the heart of the most beautiful woman of Marseilles in his hand. That being said, do these fortunate occurrences then become the abysmal servants of fate and demise? Possibly, yet as stated before, such observations are only relative to the time they are given. The thoughts of the next hour are very likely to vary from those of he proceeding day.

So it would seem that Edmond is neither fortunate nor cursed, but merely the victim of the universal ailment known to all as "life."

Life is life. It cannot be altered or graded. As seem by these examples, life is nothing more than an incoherent compilation of events and circumstances which place one upon a path designated only for them to walk.

All in all, why worry about good and bad fortune as it is all relative to the eyes that witness the products of these events.

Just a little free writing. Was reading a short story by J.D. Salinger and felt a little inspired. Hope you enjoy it.

Chance. That’s all Henry could really call it; a chance encounter that resulted in a love unknown to him prior. Of course, just because it was love did not mean that it was fate or at all similar to the innocent openings of many a dime store novel. Having discovered Yukiko’s cell phone late at night, beside a sidewalk bordering a shoe store long past its golden years, Henry had brought the phone to the local police station and given his statement. Those this may seem like the typical setting for any romance fed to the popcorn fueled masses, I can assure you that this love is anything but typical.

With his address and phone number listed on the police form, and his consent to allow the owner to contact him, if they so chose, Henry was greeted by a phone call several days later. A rapid succession of Japanese from a young woman’s mouth fell onto his ear. Only able to capture key words explaining the caller’s thankfulness and want to reward him, Henry could only reply with vague agreement. Since the phone was decorated in fake diamonds and cute stickers, Henry was not surprised by the voice he heard. Youthful, sweet, and at a pitch slightly higher than average, the caller asked if she could meet him and personally give her thanks. Henry, being a young and single man, could hardly refuse such an offer and agreed to meet the caller the following day at a local café. Hanging up the phone, Henry couldn’t help to think that she should try to find more cell phones more often.

Arriving at the café, Henry checked his phone to see if he had arrived early. He had. By fifteen minutes. Now, it is safe to say that Henry enjoyed arriving early to any event, yet even he knew that his nerves had gotten the better of him and quickened his pace that morning. Sitting down at a steel table placed underneath a patio yawning, Henry waited. Though Henry did not know who he was looking for he felt certain that they would recognize him. Being one of only four foreigners in the city, it was beyond foolish to think he blended with any scene in a five hundred mile radius. Surely enough, as he was checking his messages, Henry was stirred by the soft and shy voice he had previous heard over the phone.

“Henry?”

Titling his head up slightly and peering over the rims of his sunglasses, Henry quickly evaluated the slender form which stood before him. Beginning the with torn “skinny” jeans and high heeled sneakers, his gazed continued to a vest-like, brown jacket draped over a yellow and black checkered button down, and finished with a small round face, centered around two high, protruding cheek bones and small narrow eyes resting above a thing and delicate mouth and below a curtain of slightly dyed, short hair.

“Hi. Hello. How are you?”

The woman greeted him with a quick look of confusion as she quickly attempted to recall seven years of English education that had culminated in a college entry test that made her no more prepared for a true conversation does teaching a blind man the importance of color harmony within a painting.

“Oh sorry,” Henry quickly said, quickly switching to Japanese. “It’s habit. Hard to stop answering in English when people say my name.”

“It’s ok. I’m glad you speak Japanese. I really don’t remember any English from when I was in school.”

“I hear that a lot. Please sit down. Would you like something to drink? To eat?”

“I’ll have a drink.”

“That’s good, I was about to order a cup of hot chocolate. What would you like?”

“I don’t know. Let me think about it for a while.”

“Sure. Do you mind if I order mine drink now?”

“No, not at all.”

Motion over the waiter, Henry ordered his hot chocolate. After turning around to face the new face he would be placing in his mental catalogue of acquaintances, friends, and family, Henry noticed that his companion seemed rather nervous. Holding tightly to her jeans and keeping her head low, as if reading the menu, Henry began analyzing and judging whether this girl was one of many Japanese who found themselves in a constant state of agitation around foreigners – Such being the case in any country where only four percent of the population is foreign.

“I just wanted to thank you personally for finding my phone. I was very worried about it. The strap that is on it is a was a gift from my boyfriend.”

Henry’s heart sank slightly at this revelation.

“You’re welcome. I was only doing what anyone would do in such a situation.”

“Still. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Wanting to expand the conversation beyond this pattern, Henry pushed forward and asked, “So, tell me about yourself. I am a teacher here in town and I teach younger children English. What about you?”

“Me? Well, I graduated a few years ago from college and have been working since.”

“What do you do?”

“Right now. I don’t really do anything. I don’t have a job.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s alright. I am looking for a job, but it has been very difficult.”

“That’s true. If you can find a job right out of college you practically become a leper to companies who wonder how you could not have been hired earlier.”

“Yes. It has been hard.” Rising from her seat, the girl took her bag and said her thanks once more before turning to head out of the café.

Standing up to stop her from leaving so soon, Henry violently collided with the waitress beside him placing his drink upon the table. Falling to the ground Henry asked once more to have the girl wait and admitted that he didn’t even know her name.

“My name is Nami. Thank you again for your help. Have a nice day.”