My neck, my back, my Rugby (and Ex-pat) experience while in Japan
So it was pretty cool. Today I absolutely pounded the hell out of this deaf kid; it was empowering, exciting, and totally allowed. When I told many people that I would be playing rugby in Japan they all informed me that I would easily be twice the size of my opponents. It was at about that time that I began to wonder just how it was that so many Americans had such an understanding of sports in a foreign country. Do you all collect the cards too? Because I haven’t seen that collection yet.
So anyway, back to the deaf kid.
In sports that contain physical interaction most people tend to try and go around me, but not this one. He may not have been able to hear my heavy out of shape breathing, but he should have at least felt the ground shaking as I ran at him on the dirt field. Either way he took the hit and I buried him. It was fun. But after I felt a little bad, however I had to remind myself that “that” is what the whole game is about; physical contact, and all guilty feelings were definitely gone after the match and the other team lined up to poke at my soft stomach…just kidding, but if Michael and Patrick Howerter had anything to say about it, that is how any organized sport containing myself would end, right boys?
So yeah, rugby: before I took the big trip Martin (Professor at Eichi, and fellow rugger) told me about the Kobe team. He then began to send me running workouts, both short and long distance, and gave me the advice to not get too “fat and lethargic over the summer.” When I read this I wanted to immediately respond with, “but anything that happened before the summer is fair game…right? Because I am already a little bit, or a lot, of both of those things.” But I felt that this type of response could be damaging to our then online relationship (ps, I’ll never forget the times in the chatroom…Ha. Jk Jk. Lol. Lol. ASL?).
So when I arrived I was met at the airport and met Marty for the first time, he didn’t seem angry at the fact that I had obviously disregarded his advice and I didn’t really prepare myself for the season; but I did show up with a lot of heart and dedication (which doesn’t really help your endurance, but it sounds good…and takes away some of the guilt). I was then asked, on the same day that I arrived from a 14 hour flight, if I would be able to play in a few days; why not? My schedule was free at the time and I couldn’t think of anything else that I wanted to do. This was to be my first game in Japan and about the seventh overall for rugby. When we arrived at the pitch, or field, that Sunday I soon began to feel less worried about how I would fare that afternoon as half of the team showed up extremely hung-over and smoking like a chimney, not that they can’t run or that I am in better shape then any of them, but in my opinion, their current health choices leveled the field of ability pretty well.
We lost.
Although we did not win the match, it was still a good chance to get to meet some fellow native-english speakers, many I could not understand, but they said that it was English. Most of them are from New Zealand or Australia (you know, Australasia). They all turned out to be a fine lot. Now, as time has progressed I am beginning to enjoy their company a bit more and I am now fairly fluent in their language. Does that make me bilingual?
So anyway. I don’t feel like writing anymore, my neck and my back hurt. The opposition may be small, but they sure can crank the opposition’s neck with their lack of height in a scrum. But in all honesty, the opposition has been really good here. To further illustrate this I can inform you all that the Kobe Regatta and Athletic Club has a current record of 1-2 for the season. But today we smote the silent typhoon; a group of hearing impaired men who I am sure would have rather poked my belly then shook my hand. But they were true sportsmen. Next post will be much better, please don’t stop reading me.
Let’s take an online poll: Who are you going to vote for…just kidding. What do you think I should do (i.e. what activity should I embark on) to write about for the next post? Got an idea? Drop me a line and I will most likely do whatever you tell me to. Tomorrow’s pay day. No more eating like a college student. “Goodbye Blue Monday or Ramen No More!”bye.
10.23.2004
Chance of a lifetime
Lost in My Bedroom Sweepstakes
The Chance of a lifetime awaits, how will you respond?
So here’s the deal. I was thinking the other day that I would like to travel sometime in the near future; but then it dawned on me that it is really very difficult to get out of this country. It costs a lot of money to travel, plus it is kind of difficult to imagine myself in a foreign land and not being able to speak the language, know the food, etc. So I was thinking that maybe the best way to spend money and not get too bored over my long winter break (January 18th-?, I can’t read the calendar very well yet) was to fly a friend out here. I know that this sounds kind of stupid, or maybe you just think that I can’t do it…but you are wrong. Where there is a will there is a way. The difficult part is finding the person that would like to come and visit me; also someone that has the money to pay for the ticket here and someone that can get the time off to make the trip. So if you are an adventurous person here’s the gist: I’ll pay for three quarters of the cost of the ticket (no first or business class, you have to fly as I did…steerage). I will also be your gijin (foreign) guide around the Kansai area. I am sure that more perks will present themselves as it becomes more apparent that people are going to take me serious. So seriously, lets make it happen. If you are an interested party then please send me an e-mail (dbaxelson@yahoo.com) or leave a comment detailing why I should pick you. It’s not really a contest, but I don’t know whom to ask personally or who could swing it. If you are unsure of dates or anything like that then get a hold of me and we will work it out. Cool? Good. You think about it and we’ll make it happen.
Current Events:
Nothing much is new. The English department held a very nice welcome party for myself as well as another new professor. It was real nice n’ fancy-pants. It was a good experience for me as I really got to know the professor in my department as well as how to act in polite society in Japan. But from this experience came another new understanding of Japanese drinking. Party tip #1 if you are going to hold a Japanese fancy-pants dinner: don’t let a glass become empty. I think that it is perhaps bad luck in this country if one has to hold or be near an empty glass. Also, if you find yourself in Japan and you are asked, “what kind of liquor or drink do you like?” Try and mention only one instead of making a list of what you have had and what you liked. Reason: there was one point in the night when I had a glass of sake, show-chu, beer, and scotch in front of me at once. Wow. I am also pretty sure that this concoction of liquor can also be used in substitution for ex-lax if stuck on a desert island with a well stocked bar…but then again, the after effects may have been linked more with the foods that I ate at the meal; I am not sure whether or not western stomachs can truly handle sashimi (plane raw fish…which was tasty, but still…) within the first month.
But as I said before, and I will stick to it until the end, it was a great party and if any of you Professors read this, let’s do it again sometime…perhaps once a month. Thanks to all and to all a good day.
Ps The deadline for “Lost in my Bedroom” sweepstakes is the day before I leave this country. Sorry, no extensions as I cannot guarantee the accommodations. Peace.
The Chance of a lifetime awaits, how will you respond?
So here’s the deal. I was thinking the other day that I would like to travel sometime in the near future; but then it dawned on me that it is really very difficult to get out of this country. It costs a lot of money to travel, plus it is kind of difficult to imagine myself in a foreign land and not being able to speak the language, know the food, etc. So I was thinking that maybe the best way to spend money and not get too bored over my long winter break (January 18th-?, I can’t read the calendar very well yet) was to fly a friend out here. I know that this sounds kind of stupid, or maybe you just think that I can’t do it…but you are wrong. Where there is a will there is a way. The difficult part is finding the person that would like to come and visit me; also someone that has the money to pay for the ticket here and someone that can get the time off to make the trip. So if you are an adventurous person here’s the gist: I’ll pay for three quarters of the cost of the ticket (no first or business class, you have to fly as I did…steerage). I will also be your gijin (foreign) guide around the Kansai area. I am sure that more perks will present themselves as it becomes more apparent that people are going to take me serious. So seriously, lets make it happen. If you are an interested party then please send me an e-mail (dbaxelson@yahoo.com) or leave a comment detailing why I should pick you. It’s not really a contest, but I don’t know whom to ask personally or who could swing it. If you are unsure of dates or anything like that then get a hold of me and we will work it out. Cool? Good. You think about it and we’ll make it happen.
Current Events:
Nothing much is new. The English department held a very nice welcome party for myself as well as another new professor. It was real nice n’ fancy-pants. It was a good experience for me as I really got to know the professor in my department as well as how to act in polite society in Japan. But from this experience came another new understanding of Japanese drinking. Party tip #1 if you are going to hold a Japanese fancy-pants dinner: don’t let a glass become empty. I think that it is perhaps bad luck in this country if one has to hold or be near an empty glass. Also, if you find yourself in Japan and you are asked, “what kind of liquor or drink do you like?” Try and mention only one instead of making a list of what you have had and what you liked. Reason: there was one point in the night when I had a glass of sake, show-chu, beer, and scotch in front of me at once. Wow. I am also pretty sure that this concoction of liquor can also be used in substitution for ex-lax if stuck on a desert island with a well stocked bar…but then again, the after effects may have been linked more with the foods that I ate at the meal; I am not sure whether or not western stomachs can truly handle sashimi (plane raw fish…which was tasty, but still…) within the first month.
But as I said before, and I will stick to it until the end, it was a great party and if any of you Professors read this, let’s do it again sometime…perhaps once a month. Thanks to all and to all a good day.
Ps The deadline for “Lost in my Bedroom” sweepstakes is the day before I leave this country. Sorry, no extensions as I cannot guarantee the accommodations. Peace.
10.21.2004
Funny Little Cultural Things
Official Greeting:
Today I was officially introduced to all of the faculty and staff here at Sapientia University. The meeting was a little overwhelming, with 50+ people in attendance, and I was asked to give a short little introduction. But of course there were people to meet personally beforehand. When I first walked into the room I directed over to an older priest, as this is a Catholic school, who was at one time the President of this fine institution. After being introduced he, as have many others, commented on my large size; the difference was this: where most have simply looked up at me and said, “wow how tall are you?” he took it a step further and added, “and he’s fat.” When Yamane Sensei, a professor and director of my area, said, “You mean big. That’s the way to say it,” he resoundingly disagreed and said, “no fat. From eating too much.” Ha. These crazy people, so kind yet so outgoing! I wasn’t really outraged or even insulted, I just agreed and said something to the effect of, “well, that probably explains it.” And laughed under my breath.
It wasn’t the first time that I have experienced something like this, but it was the most open and…I guess, “honest,” of my encounters. It’s odd here because so many people are not afraid to say what they think, and really none of it has been offensive. I guess that the people of Japan are just in the habit of looking out for the best interests of the group. Maybe it’s an archaic form of “tough-love.” Even if they are making fun, or berating me I can’t really understand what they say; so no real hard feelings, okay little guy?
My Mistake:
The other day I was riding on one of the many packed subways around here when I noticed that there was a pregnant woman standing directly in front of me, as I was sitting down. I then got up and gestured that she take my seat. She quickly turned it down; I then felt obligated that I had offered it to just her and not to one of the many people standing around me…so I offered it to anyone; and they all turned it down. I felt kind of confused. Why hadn’t any of them taken my seat? Did I smell? Odd.
For the remainder of the ride I found myself just looking around and at one time my attention was directed at the stomach of the woman in front of me. At this point I became happy that I didn’t speak Japanese, because if I had I might have originally asked the woman to sit down if not for herself then for the baby. Which she didn’t have; she wasn’t pregnant, she just had a pouch. Whoops.
Interesting habits of those utilizing mass transit in the country of Japan:
1. They sleep anywhere and in anyway. I have now seen men asleep not only standing up, but holding onto their belongings as well as the support handle attached to the ceiling of the train. Other, more common, methods of sleeping on the train usually entail the individual just sitting there drooling on themselves, or if you are lucky, the person next to them.
2. Drunk men. People often drink a lot after the work day, not at the college of course, but more often the business class. These men then have to get home somehow; so they take the train. While riding the train it is often to have them stare at, or if circumstances permit, grope the young women standing close to them (mind you, the trains are often packed). I have been told stories of these men also vomiting while making their way home (to a loved one that is no doubt oh so happy to see them).
3. Proper etiquette while riding a train is to mind your own business. Situation: someone falls. Common Reaction: Don’t help them. I guess that the thought behind this is that they have two legs, why not use ‘em? Again with the tough love.
4. Pornography is pretty common, not that anyone likes to talk about it, but it is (and no I don’t have any…). There are many different forms in which this pornography can come in; with the most popular being that of Manga, this is a type of illustrated or graphic novel. I guess that it may be a little harsh to call it “pornography,” but it is quite pornographic in nature. This I know because often while riding the train many business men have no problem in reading these publications. Maybe I am a little nosey, but I just like to think of it as truly observing the culture.
A quick note on Drinking:
As my good friend Kelly Cram recently pointed out on her own Blogger (http://bellavera.blogspot.com) places that allow one to take a drink with them or simply to consume in public are usually more fun, or at least you are not always tied down to one location. With this in mind I would like to point out a few interesting facts on drinking in Japan.
1. You can drink just about anywhere. There are vending machines on the street that sell anything from a can of beer, to a can of gin and tonic, to whiskey and water, to a liter of beer. All that is required is correct change. After you buy the alcohol you can crack it open and be on your merry little way.
2. To my knowledge, not that I would ever imagine thinking about committing such an act, there are no Public Intoxication laws on the island. I may be wrong but I am told by a Japanese peer that people do not get arrested for urinating or for vomiting in public (therefore the man on the train is not stopped, or corrected by anyone for yakking in public…interesting. Mike Boyle, this place would be some sort of strange asylum for you. Ha.)
3. Japanese don’t drink too much. Oh, they drink often, but they do not drink too much. Before coming here I was told that Sake, rice wine, was very strong and that I should be careful when consuming it. Bollocks. It is only 20% Alcohol by Volume, making it about the same as Baileys or any other liquor or wine. I am still cautious though mom, and I only have half a glass…promise. But then there was Sho-Chu, Sake’s big brother. This liquor is a combination of rice and barley malts and it is a little stronger, but still quite “maycha maycha oshea,” or very, very tasty.
Enough for today. I am sure that I will make many more note worthy observations but I think that this is enough for today. I hope that you all enjoy and I look to hearing from…someone. Just leave a comment or e-mail. I am starving for attention. So the three of you that actually read this please leave a comment or e-mail me…not to seem desperate or anything, I just want a little attention…come on what’s the problem? Don’t you love me? You said that you’d love me forever…it’s your fault they shot Old Yeller. Thanks so much.
Today I was officially introduced to all of the faculty and staff here at Sapientia University. The meeting was a little overwhelming, with 50+ people in attendance, and I was asked to give a short little introduction. But of course there were people to meet personally beforehand. When I first walked into the room I directed over to an older priest, as this is a Catholic school, who was at one time the President of this fine institution. After being introduced he, as have many others, commented on my large size; the difference was this: where most have simply looked up at me and said, “wow how tall are you?” he took it a step further and added, “and he’s fat.” When Yamane Sensei, a professor and director of my area, said, “You mean big. That’s the way to say it,” he resoundingly disagreed and said, “no fat. From eating too much.” Ha. These crazy people, so kind yet so outgoing! I wasn’t really outraged or even insulted, I just agreed and said something to the effect of, “well, that probably explains it.” And laughed under my breath.
It wasn’t the first time that I have experienced something like this, but it was the most open and…I guess, “honest,” of my encounters. It’s odd here because so many people are not afraid to say what they think, and really none of it has been offensive. I guess that the people of Japan are just in the habit of looking out for the best interests of the group. Maybe it’s an archaic form of “tough-love.” Even if they are making fun, or berating me I can’t really understand what they say; so no real hard feelings, okay little guy?
My Mistake:
The other day I was riding on one of the many packed subways around here when I noticed that there was a pregnant woman standing directly in front of me, as I was sitting down. I then got up and gestured that she take my seat. She quickly turned it down; I then felt obligated that I had offered it to just her and not to one of the many people standing around me…so I offered it to anyone; and they all turned it down. I felt kind of confused. Why hadn’t any of them taken my seat? Did I smell? Odd.
For the remainder of the ride I found myself just looking around and at one time my attention was directed at the stomach of the woman in front of me. At this point I became happy that I didn’t speak Japanese, because if I had I might have originally asked the woman to sit down if not for herself then for the baby. Which she didn’t have; she wasn’t pregnant, she just had a pouch. Whoops.
Interesting habits of those utilizing mass transit in the country of Japan:
1. They sleep anywhere and in anyway. I have now seen men asleep not only standing up, but holding onto their belongings as well as the support handle attached to the ceiling of the train. Other, more common, methods of sleeping on the train usually entail the individual just sitting there drooling on themselves, or if you are lucky, the person next to them.
2. Drunk men. People often drink a lot after the work day, not at the college of course, but more often the business class. These men then have to get home somehow; so they take the train. While riding the train it is often to have them stare at, or if circumstances permit, grope the young women standing close to them (mind you, the trains are often packed). I have been told stories of these men also vomiting while making their way home (to a loved one that is no doubt oh so happy to see them).
3. Proper etiquette while riding a train is to mind your own business. Situation: someone falls. Common Reaction: Don’t help them. I guess that the thought behind this is that they have two legs, why not use ‘em? Again with the tough love.
4. Pornography is pretty common, not that anyone likes to talk about it, but it is (and no I don’t have any…). There are many different forms in which this pornography can come in; with the most popular being that of Manga, this is a type of illustrated or graphic novel. I guess that it may be a little harsh to call it “pornography,” but it is quite pornographic in nature. This I know because often while riding the train many business men have no problem in reading these publications. Maybe I am a little nosey, but I just like to think of it as truly observing the culture.
A quick note on Drinking:
As my good friend Kelly Cram recently pointed out on her own Blogger (http://bellavera.blogspot.com) places that allow one to take a drink with them or simply to consume in public are usually more fun, or at least you are not always tied down to one location. With this in mind I would like to point out a few interesting facts on drinking in Japan.
1. You can drink just about anywhere. There are vending machines on the street that sell anything from a can of beer, to a can of gin and tonic, to whiskey and water, to a liter of beer. All that is required is correct change. After you buy the alcohol you can crack it open and be on your merry little way.
2. To my knowledge, not that I would ever imagine thinking about committing such an act, there are no Public Intoxication laws on the island. I may be wrong but I am told by a Japanese peer that people do not get arrested for urinating or for vomiting in public (therefore the man on the train is not stopped, or corrected by anyone for yakking in public…interesting. Mike Boyle, this place would be some sort of strange asylum for you. Ha.)
3. Japanese don’t drink too much. Oh, they drink often, but they do not drink too much. Before coming here I was told that Sake, rice wine, was very strong and that I should be careful when consuming it. Bollocks. It is only 20% Alcohol by Volume, making it about the same as Baileys or any other liquor or wine. I am still cautious though mom, and I only have half a glass…promise. But then there was Sho-Chu, Sake’s big brother. This liquor is a combination of rice and barley malts and it is a little stronger, but still quite “maycha maycha oshea,” or very, very tasty.
Enough for today. I am sure that I will make many more note worthy observations but I think that this is enough for today. I hope that you all enjoy and I look to hearing from…someone. Just leave a comment or e-mail. I am starving for attention. So the three of you that actually read this please leave a comment or e-mail me…not to seem desperate or anything, I just want a little attention…come on what’s the problem? Don’t you love me? You said that you’d love me forever…it’s your fault they shot Old Yeller. Thanks so much.
10.19.2004
Weather report for the greater Asian Pacific Region: Rain, and a lot of it.
Well I am not sure if a low pressure system is coming in or not, but I do know that if I were in Guam right now I would be having to suffer through a tropical depression…but since I am in Japan all that I get is the depression part. Oh well. “Two tears” right Lady Chablis?
So if anyone was keeping a pool, or if you were just wondering, I have finally succumb to a little bit of the homesick blues. Although I do know, and trust, that you all are caring individuals and that you are surely supporting me on this endevor I still have to ask, “what’s it all for?” At least that is the question that I know find before me. Why would I want to, or why have I come to Japan? It’s not like it is a horrible place or anything like that. It’s actually quite the contrary. I have truly enjoyed seeing the sights and I have really been enjoying my company as well as the food and culture. But why? What is the point?
Okay, enough self-loathing. Let’s be honest and open about this. I think that this whole adventure is obviously going to pay off one day. I think that most of this little fit have been the result of CNN, which is one of the two channels that I can understand here (the other being the BBC, which is comical if watched in small doses, but after a while I can only think of Hugh Grant and futball…you know, soccer). As I sat sequestered in my room I got tired of reading and switched on the television. And there before me was one of the last sights that I saw when at “home.” The mighty Water Tower Place, you know, that old castle looking building on Michigan Ave. in Chicago. I guess that CNN is doing a week in the windy city. Now for the real kicker, I don’t really care that much about Chicago; it has never been my home per se, but it is still a place that doesn’t have some foreign language tattooed all over it (which doesn’t bother me…but to see something that I understand is automatically a sanctuary for me these days) nor does it constantly smell of fish and cabbage. While watching the show I had to perform one of my new morning rituals: remind myself that I am in a foreign country. I kept finding myself thinking that I was at home in my bed just waking up as I watched the morning edition of CNN, as it is night here (darkness) and it is early morning there (darkness). See where the confusion may have come from? I certainly did. But anyway….
Speaking of television in Japan:
Did you know that Rolex runs television commercials? Neither did I. But then I started watching the international version of CNN and their oh so interesting programs on Yachts and the wonderful world of Yacht Racing as well as other mind blowing and immensely interesting evening programs. I felt as though I was watching the Robb Report channel (for those that do not know, Robb Report is a magazine published exclusively for the Affluent, or at least those that shop at Walden Books at the mall. It’s really a great magazine; you can buy stuff like Lamborghini’s and small Islands in through the adds in the back. Also if you are ever in the market for some ivory cuff links, antelope antler chandeliers, a pet white lion or any other small item, check it out). So I either get to pick CNN for international bankers, BBC for British businessmen or the native channels…so of course I pick the native channels. They are chalked full of programs that you could never see in the states; you couldn’t even imagine. Jealous? Well you should be. I mean I get to watch such great things as, “The New PACHINKO Machine” Hour, or maybe I could take a gander at “Super Great Bloopers and Practical Jokes from the Making of Super Power Rangers.” Oh but wait, it’s even better. I once sat and watched a show where they sat and filmed people playing some sort of gambling machine until that person won. In order to entice more viewers they surrounded the guy with some scantly clad females. Watch out “Survivor,” Japan’s got…I don’t know what it was called. I can’t read the characters yet. Needless to say it was a blast. I would tell you what the radio stations were like here but I just figured out how to flush the toilet…so you are going to have to wait.
Well…dry your eyes/time will fly/one day I’ll look back and sigh/oh how I’ll miss these days/so filled with hours of confusion and dismay/but it’s better this way/at least I did it myyyyyyy way…a little Frank Synatra. It was his cousin. He only performed in Reno. Take it easy and I love you all. Ps. Send me some pictures of fall. I’ll send you some pictures of spaces filled with people smaller than Mary Heckard and really big buildings (in perspective). Fun fun fun.
So if anyone was keeping a pool, or if you were just wondering, I have finally succumb to a little bit of the homesick blues. Although I do know, and trust, that you all are caring individuals and that you are surely supporting me on this endevor I still have to ask, “what’s it all for?” At least that is the question that I know find before me. Why would I want to, or why have I come to Japan? It’s not like it is a horrible place or anything like that. It’s actually quite the contrary. I have truly enjoyed seeing the sights and I have really been enjoying my company as well as the food and culture. But why? What is the point?
Okay, enough self-loathing. Let’s be honest and open about this. I think that this whole adventure is obviously going to pay off one day. I think that most of this little fit have been the result of CNN, which is one of the two channels that I can understand here (the other being the BBC, which is comical if watched in small doses, but after a while I can only think of Hugh Grant and futball…you know, soccer). As I sat sequestered in my room I got tired of reading and switched on the television. And there before me was one of the last sights that I saw when at “home.” The mighty Water Tower Place, you know, that old castle looking building on Michigan Ave. in Chicago. I guess that CNN is doing a week in the windy city. Now for the real kicker, I don’t really care that much about Chicago; it has never been my home per se, but it is still a place that doesn’t have some foreign language tattooed all over it (which doesn’t bother me…but to see something that I understand is automatically a sanctuary for me these days) nor does it constantly smell of fish and cabbage. While watching the show I had to perform one of my new morning rituals: remind myself that I am in a foreign country. I kept finding myself thinking that I was at home in my bed just waking up as I watched the morning edition of CNN, as it is night here (darkness) and it is early morning there (darkness). See where the confusion may have come from? I certainly did. But anyway….
Speaking of television in Japan:
Did you know that Rolex runs television commercials? Neither did I. But then I started watching the international version of CNN and their oh so interesting programs on Yachts and the wonderful world of Yacht Racing as well as other mind blowing and immensely interesting evening programs. I felt as though I was watching the Robb Report channel (for those that do not know, Robb Report is a magazine published exclusively for the Affluent, or at least those that shop at Walden Books at the mall. It’s really a great magazine; you can buy stuff like Lamborghini’s and small Islands in through the adds in the back. Also if you are ever in the market for some ivory cuff links, antelope antler chandeliers, a pet white lion or any other small item, check it out). So I either get to pick CNN for international bankers, BBC for British businessmen or the native channels…so of course I pick the native channels. They are chalked full of programs that you could never see in the states; you couldn’t even imagine. Jealous? Well you should be. I mean I get to watch such great things as, “The New PACHINKO Machine” Hour, or maybe I could take a gander at “Super Great Bloopers and Practical Jokes from the Making of Super Power Rangers.” Oh but wait, it’s even better. I once sat and watched a show where they sat and filmed people playing some sort of gambling machine until that person won. In order to entice more viewers they surrounded the guy with some scantly clad females. Watch out “Survivor,” Japan’s got…I don’t know what it was called. I can’t read the characters yet. Needless to say it was a blast. I would tell you what the radio stations were like here but I just figured out how to flush the toilet…so you are going to have to wait.
Well…dry your eyes/time will fly/one day I’ll look back and sigh/oh how I’ll miss these days/so filled with hours of confusion and dismay/but it’s better this way/at least I did it myyyyyyy way…a little Frank Synatra. It was his cousin. He only performed in Reno. Take it easy and I love you all. Ps. Send me some pictures of fall. I’ll send you some pictures of spaces filled with people smaller than Mary Heckard and really big buildings (in perspective). Fun fun fun.
10.18.2004
An Essay
What I did this weekend.
An Essay by Daniel Axelson
Awaking early on a Saturday morning has never been my strong suit. Often I procrastinate the process of getting out of bed on the weekend; but this weekend wasn’t like any of the others, for it was my weekend to perform as the Master of Ceremonies, or MC, of a speech contest that was to occur on my campus. I was oh so excited.
The basis of the speech contest was to get people from all over the country to come to our small campus and see what we might have to offer them in regards to a future. It was to be the sixth annual Sapientia Cup English speech competition and Spanish/French Recitation; oh boy, so much fun in one small space! I had no idea what to expect, but I was sure excited.
After getting up bright and early I then prepared myself a small breakfast of cereal and juice; as breakfast is the most important meal of the day and I wouldn’t want to suffer any, and let those that depended on me suffer as well, because I didn’t have enough energy. Upon finishing breakfast I then set to work preparing myself for the duties at hand. I showered myself, applied fragrances, and got dressed in my best Sunday attire. I even brushed my teeth! It was time to go. So I walked one block and set to work helping everyone prepare for the huge event.
After everyone pitched in and got things all settled we were ready to begin. It was at this point that the students began to arrive. As they filed into the room they began to acquaint themselves with their new surroundings. They did this by lining up with about six or seven of them at the front of the room and then they all began speaking. Ouch! This hurt my ears. The whole situation reminded me of when I was in 6th grade and took part in my school’s choir and just before we went on there was a strings section that played and they made everyone cry because mom said that it sounded like they were skinning a cat alive. But at least they were all practicing; and practice makes perfect (authors note: it is for that very reason that Michael Howerter is the king of “Self-Improvement”).
All of the excitement was coming to a head and you could just feel the tension as the time grew near. Finally the judges came into our room and announced that it was time to begin. It was now my time to shine as I stood before a room filled with Japanese high school students, teachers, and parents. I wasn’t nervous at first, because I had practiced my lines. Thing were going smoothly until I went to pronounce one of the judges names and butchered it like a small Chinese puppy…oh no! I was thrown of quickly, but don’t worry, I found my way again and didn’t make another mistake until it was time to pronounce tezukayama, that was a tough one, and I screwed it up really well. But it didn’t matter because the young woman from that school was the last speaker. Speaking of speakers, some of the speaker’s speeches were really interesting. For example there were many speeches on the possibility of the country of Japan raising up an army and renouncing the pacifist qualities of their constitution; mostly because the Prime Minister wants Japan to become permanent members on the UN security counsel. Many of the speakers that spoke about such topics enjoyed bringing up such facts as, “Since we (Japan) are a country that has had two nuclear bombs dropped on us we should be against war.” It was interesting to hear such honest perspective from a 16 year old. I was happy that I did not have to judge the speeches because I do not know what I would have said to them, maybe something like, “good point Jimmy,” or maybe, “sorry about that Jimmy.” I really don’t know. But there were other interesting speeches as well; such as “The Perfect Handbag” the life and times of CoCo Chanel, or “The perfect solution for the aged,” this was a speech about the benefits of the island of Okinawa (which not only boasts being the home of LA maintenance man and Karate Sensei Mr. Miagi but also has the longest life expectancy in the world). In conclusion they were very good and diverse speeches about what interests Japanese youth (which surprisingly was something…they don’t seem to like, or really dislike, anything. They’re a lot like purgatory, “eh…it’s not bad, but it’s not real good. It’s so so (Green, Seth. To Live and Die in the South. Family Guy. Fox Entertainment. 2001.)”
When the contest was over we had a party in the cafeteria. It was fun and we had little sandwiches that tasted like cabbage and fish; which are the two most potent and popular smells/tastes in all of Japan (the whole country would love America’s nursing homes, especially those with a concentration of German-Americans.) When the party was over my Spanish friend Andres and I took fruit and juice back to my room and we made punch. Then we went out and had something to eat and to drink at a local establishment. Then we went home again and drank the punch with some more friends then we watched the ceiling for a while, as it was around 1am and it had begun to spin a little. It was fun.
Sunday morning I didn’t do too much. It was hard to get out of bed. But eventually I crawled out and cleaned my room and began to do some laundry, as I have not done any since arriving here. In conclusion, my weekend was so-so. The speech contest really helped me to gain a better understanding of the Japanese culture and it’s youth (I also know that CoCo Chanel had many lovers and started out as a Dancer…who-da thunk it?)
*Break*
Okay, so anyway. Those that made it this far in the Blog I hope that you have enjoyed my essay. I felt as though I needed to do something a little more “academic” for those intellectuals out there. How was your weekend? Please let me know. If you could either post a comment at the end of this blog (really simple and convenient) or let me know in an e-mail: dbaxelson@yahoo.com…either way would be great as well as appreciated. I like feedback and I would like to know if anyone is actually reading this thing or if I am wasting my non-precious, yet important, time. Ari-got-o-go-zy-mass (thank you very much) now you say, dough-e-dashi-massh-ta (your welcome). Good job!
An Essay by Daniel Axelson
Awaking early on a Saturday morning has never been my strong suit. Often I procrastinate the process of getting out of bed on the weekend; but this weekend wasn’t like any of the others, for it was my weekend to perform as the Master of Ceremonies, or MC, of a speech contest that was to occur on my campus. I was oh so excited.
The basis of the speech contest was to get people from all over the country to come to our small campus and see what we might have to offer them in regards to a future. It was to be the sixth annual Sapientia Cup English speech competition and Spanish/French Recitation; oh boy, so much fun in one small space! I had no idea what to expect, but I was sure excited.
After getting up bright and early I then prepared myself a small breakfast of cereal and juice; as breakfast is the most important meal of the day and I wouldn’t want to suffer any, and let those that depended on me suffer as well, because I didn’t have enough energy. Upon finishing breakfast I then set to work preparing myself for the duties at hand. I showered myself, applied fragrances, and got dressed in my best Sunday attire. I even brushed my teeth! It was time to go. So I walked one block and set to work helping everyone prepare for the huge event.
After everyone pitched in and got things all settled we were ready to begin. It was at this point that the students began to arrive. As they filed into the room they began to acquaint themselves with their new surroundings. They did this by lining up with about six or seven of them at the front of the room and then they all began speaking. Ouch! This hurt my ears. The whole situation reminded me of when I was in 6th grade and took part in my school’s choir and just before we went on there was a strings section that played and they made everyone cry because mom said that it sounded like they were skinning a cat alive. But at least they were all practicing; and practice makes perfect (authors note: it is for that very reason that Michael Howerter is the king of “Self-Improvement”).
All of the excitement was coming to a head and you could just feel the tension as the time grew near. Finally the judges came into our room and announced that it was time to begin. It was now my time to shine as I stood before a room filled with Japanese high school students, teachers, and parents. I wasn’t nervous at first, because I had practiced my lines. Thing were going smoothly until I went to pronounce one of the judges names and butchered it like a small Chinese puppy…oh no! I was thrown of quickly, but don’t worry, I found my way again and didn’t make another mistake until it was time to pronounce tezukayama, that was a tough one, and I screwed it up really well. But it didn’t matter because the young woman from that school was the last speaker. Speaking of speakers, some of the speaker’s speeches were really interesting. For example there were many speeches on the possibility of the country of Japan raising up an army and renouncing the pacifist qualities of their constitution; mostly because the Prime Minister wants Japan to become permanent members on the UN security counsel. Many of the speakers that spoke about such topics enjoyed bringing up such facts as, “Since we (Japan) are a country that has had two nuclear bombs dropped on us we should be against war.” It was interesting to hear such honest perspective from a 16 year old. I was happy that I did not have to judge the speeches because I do not know what I would have said to them, maybe something like, “good point Jimmy,” or maybe, “sorry about that Jimmy.” I really don’t know. But there were other interesting speeches as well; such as “The Perfect Handbag” the life and times of CoCo Chanel, or “The perfect solution for the aged,” this was a speech about the benefits of the island of Okinawa (which not only boasts being the home of LA maintenance man and Karate Sensei Mr. Miagi but also has the longest life expectancy in the world). In conclusion they were very good and diverse speeches about what interests Japanese youth (which surprisingly was something…they don’t seem to like, or really dislike, anything. They’re a lot like purgatory, “eh…it’s not bad, but it’s not real good. It’s so so (Green, Seth. To Live and Die in the South. Family Guy. Fox Entertainment. 2001.)”
When the contest was over we had a party in the cafeteria. It was fun and we had little sandwiches that tasted like cabbage and fish; which are the two most potent and popular smells/tastes in all of Japan (the whole country would love America’s nursing homes, especially those with a concentration of German-Americans.) When the party was over my Spanish friend Andres and I took fruit and juice back to my room and we made punch. Then we went out and had something to eat and to drink at a local establishment. Then we went home again and drank the punch with some more friends then we watched the ceiling for a while, as it was around 1am and it had begun to spin a little. It was fun.
Sunday morning I didn’t do too much. It was hard to get out of bed. But eventually I crawled out and cleaned my room and began to do some laundry, as I have not done any since arriving here. In conclusion, my weekend was so-so. The speech contest really helped me to gain a better understanding of the Japanese culture and it’s youth (I also know that CoCo Chanel had many lovers and started out as a Dancer…who-da thunk it?)
*Break*
Okay, so anyway. Those that made it this far in the Blog I hope that you have enjoyed my essay. I felt as though I needed to do something a little more “academic” for those intellectuals out there. How was your weekend? Please let me know. If you could either post a comment at the end of this blog (really simple and convenient) or let me know in an e-mail: dbaxelson@yahoo.com…either way would be great as well as appreciated. I like feedback and I would like to know if anyone is actually reading this thing or if I am wasting my non-precious, yet important, time. Ari-got-o-go-zy-mass (thank you very much) now you say, dough-e-dashi-massh-ta (your welcome). Good job!
10.15.2004
Thoughts and facts on Japan that are more random than my grandma at a Phish Concert.
Bicycles in Japan:
Well, everyone thought that the people of Japan were just very ecologically concerned but in all honesty the place just isn’t big enough. Observation: Many people in this country ride bicycles; and I’m not just talking about a few little kids and pre-pubescent teens; I’m talking about everyone and almost anyon...which is difficult for me to count because I only have 32 appendages...and there are supposed to be over one million people in the city that I am living in; which is about the size of a quarter of Rockford. That’s a lot in a little.
So back to the ecology of this little island: because there are so many people here (about half the population of the U.S.) living on an island the size of California (or which only 20% is livable because the other 80% is too mountainous to call home…maybe “hill” but not home…) many do not drive cars.
Other Deterrents: every 100,000 kilometers car owners have to take their cars in for mandatory check-ups. At these inspections the mechanics are then to fix everything so that the car is in the best running shape possible. This means that the car owner then has to pay an outrageous fee to get the car fixed...no matter what kind of shape it is in. Also, when you purchase a car you have to prove that you have a parking space available at your home. This is rather difficult considering the fact that many people do not even live in their own homes but instead live in apartments or other space-conserving housing; therefore parking spaces are difficult to come by…even for your bicycle (side note: at train stations you have to have a parking permit to park your bike within a prescribed distance from the station, if you do not have a permit your bike may be fined and taken away). Weird. Therefore the reason that these people seem so ecologically sound is mainly due to the fact that they have no other choice. As for the size of the Japanese themselves…I think that they are so short because a long time ago someone decided that Japanese ceilings should only be so high, and this individual was obviously vertically impaired. Therefore all of the buildings in old-world Japan adhered to this standard and now the people do not grow above a predestined height due to evolution…no matter how many foreign men attempt to breed this characteristic out (mostly those dirty Australians…”g’day sweetheart.”
Author’s note: all statistics/facts compliments of Professor Martin Weatherby. He’s pretty dang smart…he went to Yale, which is no Loras…but at least he made due with what he had. Ha. So, all of this is true unless you want to prove a Yale graduate wrong. Go ahead, test those waters…you’d be swimming with sharks my friend. As far as the bit about the Australians...I just thought that it was funny and it's kind of a conclusion that I have reached.
The Yellow Scourge: No I am not turning into a huge racist, but I do find the term to be appropriate when talking about these horrifying little creatures that are constantly annoying the pants off of me. They are horrible. They just come and go buzzing in your ear in their harsh tones and strange noises. I thought that they were bad at home; but now I am convinced that I have never experienced such horrible and offensive creatures. I have done all that I can and I am at my wits end. They just keep flocking to me and although I swat at them and occasionally resort to simply yelling at them the mosquitoes continually attack me. It doesn’t matter if I am in my room tucked away in my bed with the air-conditioner set at a cool temperature or if I am walking around in the standing soupy air that is my new home they continue to pester me.
The mosquitoes here are much like the ancient race of samurai that used to roam the same land. They are quick nimble and able to render immense pain and torment. Plus they are about the same size as the cars in this land (but alas, I can not fit into the mosquitoes either). I have been told by those that call themselves “my friends” that they will soon be dying off and eventually be gone for the season, at least the people at the shops around here have gotten rid of their mosquito killing devices for now. But I do believe that just as we thought Japan would never back down in the great war numero deuce these mosquitoes aren’t going anywhere. Just the other day I think that I saw one wearing a North Face parka in preparation of the cooling temperature ahead; they are advanced and they are not about to give up. Wish me luck and dad please send me my gun. It’s open season. Love you all and I hope that you haven’t wasted too much time on my ramblings. Talk to you soon. Love Danny.
Well, everyone thought that the people of Japan were just very ecologically concerned but in all honesty the place just isn’t big enough. Observation: Many people in this country ride bicycles; and I’m not just talking about a few little kids and pre-pubescent teens; I’m talking about everyone and almost anyon...which is difficult for me to count because I only have 32 appendages...and there are supposed to be over one million people in the city that I am living in; which is about the size of a quarter of Rockford. That’s a lot in a little.
So back to the ecology of this little island: because there are so many people here (about half the population of the U.S.) living on an island the size of California (or which only 20% is livable because the other 80% is too mountainous to call home…maybe “hill” but not home…) many do not drive cars.
Other Deterrents: every 100,000 kilometers car owners have to take their cars in for mandatory check-ups. At these inspections the mechanics are then to fix everything so that the car is in the best running shape possible. This means that the car owner then has to pay an outrageous fee to get the car fixed...no matter what kind of shape it is in. Also, when you purchase a car you have to prove that you have a parking space available at your home. This is rather difficult considering the fact that many people do not even live in their own homes but instead live in apartments or other space-conserving housing; therefore parking spaces are difficult to come by…even for your bicycle (side note: at train stations you have to have a parking permit to park your bike within a prescribed distance from the station, if you do not have a permit your bike may be fined and taken away). Weird. Therefore the reason that these people seem so ecologically sound is mainly due to the fact that they have no other choice. As for the size of the Japanese themselves…I think that they are so short because a long time ago someone decided that Japanese ceilings should only be so high, and this individual was obviously vertically impaired. Therefore all of the buildings in old-world Japan adhered to this standard and now the people do not grow above a predestined height due to evolution…no matter how many foreign men attempt to breed this characteristic out (mostly those dirty Australians…”g’day sweetheart.”
Author’s note: all statistics/facts compliments of Professor Martin Weatherby. He’s pretty dang smart…he went to Yale, which is no Loras…but at least he made due with what he had. Ha. So, all of this is true unless you want to prove a Yale graduate wrong. Go ahead, test those waters…you’d be swimming with sharks my friend. As far as the bit about the Australians...I just thought that it was funny and it's kind of a conclusion that I have reached.
The Yellow Scourge: No I am not turning into a huge racist, but I do find the term to be appropriate when talking about these horrifying little creatures that are constantly annoying the pants off of me. They are horrible. They just come and go buzzing in your ear in their harsh tones and strange noises. I thought that they were bad at home; but now I am convinced that I have never experienced such horrible and offensive creatures. I have done all that I can and I am at my wits end. They just keep flocking to me and although I swat at them and occasionally resort to simply yelling at them the mosquitoes continually attack me. It doesn’t matter if I am in my room tucked away in my bed with the air-conditioner set at a cool temperature or if I am walking around in the standing soupy air that is my new home they continue to pester me.
The mosquitoes here are much like the ancient race of samurai that used to roam the same land. They are quick nimble and able to render immense pain and torment. Plus they are about the same size as the cars in this land (but alas, I can not fit into the mosquitoes either). I have been told by those that call themselves “my friends” that they will soon be dying off and eventually be gone for the season, at least the people at the shops around here have gotten rid of their mosquito killing devices for now. But I do believe that just as we thought Japan would never back down in the great war numero deuce these mosquitoes aren’t going anywhere. Just the other day I think that I saw one wearing a North Face parka in preparation of the cooling temperature ahead; they are advanced and they are not about to give up. Wish me luck and dad please send me my gun. It’s open season. Love you all and I hope that you haven’t wasted too much time on my ramblings. Talk to you soon. Love Danny.
10.12.2004
My Birthday
My Birthday:
With yesterday gone I am now one year older, one year wiser, and one day closer to never wanting to have children.
From the beginning of this trip I have held to the belief that the Japanese individuals have been most kind and caring. I also thought that the entire country had bound together in honoring my presence through declaring my birthday to be a national holiday. They have called this holiday “Sports Day,” since I am quite the sportsman and all. So with this kind gesture I quietly and calmly thanked them by desiring to sleep in on the day of my birth, as well as the day of no school due to “Sports.” However I soon learned that I had been deceived and that “sports day” was none other then “shrill-voice-on-the-loudspeaker-day-while-children-laugh-and–scream-in-‘in-pubescent’-voices-while-Danny-is-trying-to-sleep-on-his-Birth”-day.
Now for a little background information: my room is on the edge of our little quaint campus, tucked neatly away next to a wall which blocks in a little Catholic elementary school, a school in which there is no God (and if he is there then I must have been very bad this year…which I may or may not have been, so I would like to withdraw the comment. God is alive and well in “Our Mary of the Screaming lil’ booger-chan Elementary School,” thank you Lord in advance for forgiveness). So as I awoke on the morn of my 23rd year on this earth by the screams of delight and amazement of many little Japanese saints outside of my window I was alarmed and thought that perhaps there was some sort of criminal effort going on across the way. But then I heard the bass begin to pump as the squeals ascended towards the heavens and “Sports Day” was underway. The whole event reminded me a lot of the different scenes from various WWII films in which people of Jewish decent were forced to run about a courtyard while music was blared over a cheap PA system. However Sports Day did not end with gratuitous deaths or anything of the sort; just cheap ribbons and a lot of little tykes sleeping like pet rocks later that night. So overall it was good for the kids but not for the wicked. I don’t think that any of this was assisted by the alcohol that I had drunk the night before in celebration of twenty-three wonderful years; I love you mom and don’t be mad at me…it was Andres, those crazy Spaniards will do anything to get an honest and innocent youth to partake in the devil’s sweet ambrosia…Well my friends I hope that some of this makes sense and that you are enjoying my little observations. If you could please take a moment and make a little comment so that I can write things that make you happy and feel good inside…or at least make you laugh a little bit more. I don’t want to be boring or waste any of your time…but I do want to share my experiences. I would also like to take this moment to recognize the Union of my Cousin Heather, the new Mrs. Kyle Markhardt…or Markhart…or Markedhart….er, Markhartengerhouser…er, Mrs. Markymarkandthefunkybunch…Mrs. Kyle. There, that has a nice ring to it. I have heard that everything went off great and I am very excited for the two of you. I would have personally delivered this message, but I don’t have any of your personal information. So for what it’s worth good luck and go get ‘em. Oh yeah; I would also like to add that I am going to kick your booty in “SceneIt” when I come back to the United States Mr. Markharderheart, or Kyle as it were. G’Bye.
With yesterday gone I am now one year older, one year wiser, and one day closer to never wanting to have children.
From the beginning of this trip I have held to the belief that the Japanese individuals have been most kind and caring. I also thought that the entire country had bound together in honoring my presence through declaring my birthday to be a national holiday. They have called this holiday “Sports Day,” since I am quite the sportsman and all. So with this kind gesture I quietly and calmly thanked them by desiring to sleep in on the day of my birth, as well as the day of no school due to “Sports.” However I soon learned that I had been deceived and that “sports day” was none other then “shrill-voice-on-the-loudspeaker-day-while-children-laugh-and–scream-in-‘in-pubescent’-voices-while-Danny-is-trying-to-sleep-on-his-Birth”-day.
Now for a little background information: my room is on the edge of our little quaint campus, tucked neatly away next to a wall which blocks in a little Catholic elementary school, a school in which there is no God (and if he is there then I must have been very bad this year…which I may or may not have been, so I would like to withdraw the comment. God is alive and well in “Our Mary of the Screaming lil’ booger-chan Elementary School,” thank you Lord in advance for forgiveness). So as I awoke on the morn of my 23rd year on this earth by the screams of delight and amazement of many little Japanese saints outside of my window I was alarmed and thought that perhaps there was some sort of criminal effort going on across the way. But then I heard the bass begin to pump as the squeals ascended towards the heavens and “Sports Day” was underway. The whole event reminded me a lot of the different scenes from various WWII films in which people of Jewish decent were forced to run about a courtyard while music was blared over a cheap PA system. However Sports Day did not end with gratuitous deaths or anything of the sort; just cheap ribbons and a lot of little tykes sleeping like pet rocks later that night. So overall it was good for the kids but not for the wicked. I don’t think that any of this was assisted by the alcohol that I had drunk the night before in celebration of twenty-three wonderful years; I love you mom and don’t be mad at me…it was Andres, those crazy Spaniards will do anything to get an honest and innocent youth to partake in the devil’s sweet ambrosia…Well my friends I hope that some of this makes sense and that you are enjoying my little observations. If you could please take a moment and make a little comment so that I can write things that make you happy and feel good inside…or at least make you laugh a little bit more. I don’t want to be boring or waste any of your time…but I do want to share my experiences. I would also like to take this moment to recognize the Union of my Cousin Heather, the new Mrs. Kyle Markhardt…or Markhart…or Markedhart….er, Markhartengerhouser…er, Mrs. Markymarkandthefunkybunch…Mrs. Kyle. There, that has a nice ring to it. I have heard that everything went off great and I am very excited for the two of you. I would have personally delivered this message, but I don’t have any of your personal information. So for what it’s worth good luck and go get ‘em. Oh yeah; I would also like to add that I am going to kick your booty in “SceneIt” when I come back to the United States Mr. Markharderheart, or Kyle as it were. G’Bye.
10.10.2004
Occurences so Far
Sorry. I know that I have not gotten to this Blogger in a while, but I have been having a little trouble…so less excuses and more fun, right?
Typhoon Incident:
It was a calm cool evening and it had been raining all day, but only a slight drizzle. However throughout the entire day I kept hearing various people’s warnings about the incoming storm or typhoon. I blew it off thinking that it was just going to be a slight downpour…nothing too bad. My esteemed colleague and friend, Andres of Leon, Spain, and I were simply sitting in the student lounge around 6 when we realized that there was only one beverage left in the moderately sized case of 6 that we had bought earlier. It was time to act. So I, unaware of the true prowess of a typhoon, decided that I would go and purchase another moderately sized package of bieru as well as some “otsamommi” or food that is consumed while drinking (yes, they have a word for such things. It was through such terms as this that I realized the truth: I may not be able to fit into their cars, but I can fit into their culture just fine). As I went out into the storm I thought to myself, “my self, it really is raining pretty hard,” but I advanced like our confused youth in Iraq and thought to myself that I had a fairly righteous mission ahead of me. And the store was only a few blocks away. Upon reaching the store I knew what to grab as far as drink was concerned, but I was unsure about the food. After trying to communicate with the locals by attempting to drink a fake beer and simulating eating, they just shook their head at me and waved their hands at me indicating that it was time to pay and leave; which I did. But my stomach was not about to let me retreat home only completing half of my mission. So I trudged on through the rain to the nearest vendor of delectable dried squid and the such; which was about another five blocks away. When I reached the “7-11” I was leaving a wake of puddles behind me throughout the store. Finally having purchased the vittles I made my way back home. When I reached the lounge Andres looked on in amazement and excitement. We then retreated to our housing and dried off. I found that all of my clothing, every layer (including my under-roos) was soaked. But the mission was a success and we were then able to join the surrounding ground in getting a little “wet.” Typhoons are the Asian equivalent of a blizzard, they really do have everything in this country.
How to Practice the Zazen, or how to gain enlightenment through the process of confusion and pain.
When asked if I would like to “go to temple,” I thought that it would be a good picture opportunity. I had wanted to see a temple and perhaps take some pictures of these Buddhist landmarks. So I agreed; what a mistake. I was to go the following Tuesday, which was October 5, the instructor who asked if I would like to go then informed me that a student would pick me up and assist me in getting to the temple on time and exactly where it was. The student that he chose was Makoto, a young woman who was studying Spanish. Therefore, she was not able to assist me at all having only experience in two languages that I could not speak at all. When the time came that we were to leave it dawned on me that I had no clue what I was going to be doing. It could have been a prayer, a party, a sacrifice; I had no clue, but when on anyway. After navigating our way through rush hour traffic at a few different railway stations and switching trains a few times we arrived at the temple. Now I don’t know about you, but I had always thought that areas of enlightenment would be a little different; not that there was anything wrong with this place, it just wasn’t what I had imagined. I had thought that it would be a very bare, clean, fresh-smelling place filled with incense and smiles. As it is it was filled with stern faces and smelled of a musty church basement (you know, institutionalized cleaner and the slight smell of week old baked goods; pleasant yet not what I expected). Soon after arriving I was taken up towards the sanctuary, or the place in which I was going to pray the Zazen, which is the ordinary practice of most Zen-Buddhists’. It was there that I was asked whether or not I knew how to pray the Zazen, to which I answered honestly and with a little astonishment, “nope, not at all.” After receiving a little look of confusion (I’m sure that this stranger was thinking the same thing that I was, “what on Buddha’s sand garden is this kid doing here,”). I was then given a quick orientation of what I was expected to do, which was to sit with my legs tucked under me in “lotus” position and stare at the wall. I was not told what the prayer time entailed, such as the simple facts of how long was I supposed to sit here, what was I trying to attain, and what is going to happen? The answer to such questions was not on the itinerary for the orientation, just how I supposed to look. So when the time came and the instructor who invited me arrived it was time to assume the position; which I did. And there I sat for one hour while being periodically startled by the sounds of a gong and by the chants of those around me. The chants were nice. They came about forty-five minutes into the sitting. At first I thought to myself, “self, this isn’t too bad.” But then they carried on for fifteen minutes. The only comparison that I can give to you, the reader, to better understand the situation would be to have you sit in the back seat of a very small car, perhaps a Volkswagen, and have someone first poke at your legs to render them useless and then have someone blare ambient noises at you that will only startle and confuse you…but do not listen to anything that you could possibly understand or eventually appreciate. Perhaps a chorus of food processing devices played at different levels. And that my friends, is how one achieves enlightenment.
Authors note: none of this is meant to be rude, it is simply an attempt to illustrate the difficulties of being in a foreign country and having a very limited understanding of the culture. I am happy that I went to the temple, because now I know to avoid it. The people that were practicing the Zazen appeared to be enjoying it immensely, which is a wonderful thing. Spiritual enlightenment of any sort is great for any individual, and I support that. However, it was not for me. Sorry Mr. Buddha, but I don’t get it.
Typhoon Incident:
It was a calm cool evening and it had been raining all day, but only a slight drizzle. However throughout the entire day I kept hearing various people’s warnings about the incoming storm or typhoon. I blew it off thinking that it was just going to be a slight downpour…nothing too bad. My esteemed colleague and friend, Andres of Leon, Spain, and I were simply sitting in the student lounge around 6 when we realized that there was only one beverage left in the moderately sized case of 6 that we had bought earlier. It was time to act. So I, unaware of the true prowess of a typhoon, decided that I would go and purchase another moderately sized package of bieru as well as some “otsamommi” or food that is consumed while drinking (yes, they have a word for such things. It was through such terms as this that I realized the truth: I may not be able to fit into their cars, but I can fit into their culture just fine). As I went out into the storm I thought to myself, “my self, it really is raining pretty hard,” but I advanced like our confused youth in Iraq and thought to myself that I had a fairly righteous mission ahead of me. And the store was only a few blocks away. Upon reaching the store I knew what to grab as far as drink was concerned, but I was unsure about the food. After trying to communicate with the locals by attempting to drink a fake beer and simulating eating, they just shook their head at me and waved their hands at me indicating that it was time to pay and leave; which I did. But my stomach was not about to let me retreat home only completing half of my mission. So I trudged on through the rain to the nearest vendor of delectable dried squid and the such; which was about another five blocks away. When I reached the “7-11” I was leaving a wake of puddles behind me throughout the store. Finally having purchased the vittles I made my way back home. When I reached the lounge Andres looked on in amazement and excitement. We then retreated to our housing and dried off. I found that all of my clothing, every layer (including my under-roos) was soaked. But the mission was a success and we were then able to join the surrounding ground in getting a little “wet.” Typhoons are the Asian equivalent of a blizzard, they really do have everything in this country.
How to Practice the Zazen, or how to gain enlightenment through the process of confusion and pain.
When asked if I would like to “go to temple,” I thought that it would be a good picture opportunity. I had wanted to see a temple and perhaps take some pictures of these Buddhist landmarks. So I agreed; what a mistake. I was to go the following Tuesday, which was October 5, the instructor who asked if I would like to go then informed me that a student would pick me up and assist me in getting to the temple on time and exactly where it was. The student that he chose was Makoto, a young woman who was studying Spanish. Therefore, she was not able to assist me at all having only experience in two languages that I could not speak at all. When the time came that we were to leave it dawned on me that I had no clue what I was going to be doing. It could have been a prayer, a party, a sacrifice; I had no clue, but when on anyway. After navigating our way through rush hour traffic at a few different railway stations and switching trains a few times we arrived at the temple. Now I don’t know about you, but I had always thought that areas of enlightenment would be a little different; not that there was anything wrong with this place, it just wasn’t what I had imagined. I had thought that it would be a very bare, clean, fresh-smelling place filled with incense and smiles. As it is it was filled with stern faces and smelled of a musty church basement (you know, institutionalized cleaner and the slight smell of week old baked goods; pleasant yet not what I expected). Soon after arriving I was taken up towards the sanctuary, or the place in which I was going to pray the Zazen, which is the ordinary practice of most Zen-Buddhists’. It was there that I was asked whether or not I knew how to pray the Zazen, to which I answered honestly and with a little astonishment, “nope, not at all.” After receiving a little look of confusion (I’m sure that this stranger was thinking the same thing that I was, “what on Buddha’s sand garden is this kid doing here,”). I was then given a quick orientation of what I was expected to do, which was to sit with my legs tucked under me in “lotus” position and stare at the wall. I was not told what the prayer time entailed, such as the simple facts of how long was I supposed to sit here, what was I trying to attain, and what is going to happen? The answer to such questions was not on the itinerary for the orientation, just how I supposed to look. So when the time came and the instructor who invited me arrived it was time to assume the position; which I did. And there I sat for one hour while being periodically startled by the sounds of a gong and by the chants of those around me. The chants were nice. They came about forty-five minutes into the sitting. At first I thought to myself, “self, this isn’t too bad.” But then they carried on for fifteen minutes. The only comparison that I can give to you, the reader, to better understand the situation would be to have you sit in the back seat of a very small car, perhaps a Volkswagen, and have someone first poke at your legs to render them useless and then have someone blare ambient noises at you that will only startle and confuse you…but do not listen to anything that you could possibly understand or eventually appreciate. Perhaps a chorus of food processing devices played at different levels. And that my friends, is how one achieves enlightenment.
Authors note: none of this is meant to be rude, it is simply an attempt to illustrate the difficulties of being in a foreign country and having a very limited understanding of the culture. I am happy that I went to the temple, because now I know to avoid it. The people that were practicing the Zazen appeared to be enjoying it immensely, which is a wonderful thing. Spiritual enlightenment of any sort is great for any individual, and I support that. However, it was not for me. Sorry Mr. Buddha, but I don’t get it.
10.02.2004
First Week
Well things are going well...as could be expected. This blogger is now going to be my baby. I will do all that I can to update this as often as possible; and along with these updates will come pictures, stories, and a lot of entertainment. So please be sure to check on me and my adventures...if you want to. So be sure to save the page in your favorites or just remember, http://koretabetai.blogspot.com (koretabetai is one of the first phrases that I learned in this blessed country, it means "do you want to eat this," and it is usually said while waiving a fist in someone's face...whatta country). Alright, well I will now go out and take pictures and jot down fun and interesting thoughts and occurances to make it all worth your while. Thank you very much.
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