Well is there?
Who am I to tell you?
I think that with all things there's always a deodorant to cover up the smells.
Well the choice has been made and I have sealed my fate for the next year. I am going to be staying over here in Japan until July of 2006. I know that it is a tough pill to swallow, but it's the truth.
So here are my thoughts on the whole situation: I enjoy the country. I enjoy the experiences that I have had over here. I know that at times I may seem to be a little uneasy about being here, but cut me some slack I took a big plunge in coming here in the first place. It really is a trip and I think that in me staying another year I will be able to get the most out of everything. And "yes" Dad, I will hopefully know at least half of the Japanese Alphabet before leaving after two years (author's note: Kanji is Chinese, not Japanese; therefore it is exempt).
But who cares about all that sappy crap? I have to have some funny stories or tales that I can give ya...let's think...Okay, here's one (and yes it has to do with food).
So I have eaten some funky things over here. But let's face it, one of the top things to do in Japan is go out to eat. Let me explain: you all know that the land mass is small, the population density is high, and that Japanese food is often "strange." Okay; with that knowledge we can also assume the following: that the average Japanese house is quite small, people often want to spend time with one another, and people have to eat. Leading to the basic statement/thought: "Living in Japan involves often eating outside of ones house and is often used as a social function and escape from the tiny apartment that many people call home and dungeon." So I stretched it a little.
Anyway, I ate Fugu (spelling may be way off...but I don't care). In English it is called a puffer-fish or blow-fish, you know, the poisonous one that Homer ate improperly cut and thought that he was going to die. Well...it tasted fine to me and I'm still kicking 24 hours after consumption. It did taste a little like chicken though...poison chicken.
Wanna hear what else I've eaten that was gross? me neither. This topic turned south real quick.
Lessons over.
1.19.2005
a diversion from the ordinary blahg
Since so many of you, or at least a few of you, have told me that my writing isn't half bad I thought that I would give you a little fiction. It isn't very good, but it isn't too bad. So just read it anyway. Just don't know what to say about Japan right now. Nothing too new. I may go to Africa in March. Exciting. Plus I just got a boo-boo in the mail.
Now to the tale...take care. Love ya.
Egg Strokes
Moving in a little closer with every second he was now a perfect mold of the figure lying next to him. He had gently swayed here and inched there in order to receive the maximum amount of touch combined with the least amount of space allowed to two figures. Henry gently chooses his words as he leans over to the beauty now occupying his bed and mind
.
“I…I really don’t know how to tell you all that I am thinking.”
She remains silent not knowing what to expect.
“You see, I was so pleased to run into you again today…after first talking to you I, I thought that I would never see you again. You seemed so, so, so…”
He had always stumbled over his words whenever relaying emotion.
“You, see…I mean someone, so, well, so lovely,” the word stuck to his tongue like honey to a spoon slowly dripping off the subtle, round tip into the cup of tea that was his pent up desires and dreams.
“And there you were again today. I just knew that I had to take advantage of the situation. I can’t tell you how, well just, how…great it is to have you over here with me.”
Feeling a little more at ease and one with the environment Henry looks around the baron room and begins to remember the days when he and his mother would often sit in this same one-room apartment and watch their programs together. She was always a fan of the afternoon dramas whereas he hadn’t ever really preferred any specific program but more or less used the time to get away from the drudgeries of daily life. He had a typical upbringing: not enough coddling, “latch-key” kid, parent’s divorced, never allowed to have a dog, picked on at school, but later accepted by those more conducive to mediocrity, etc., etc. Henry was nothing special by any means.
With his eyes floating casually about the room his tongue became more and more relaxed and his thoughts drifted through time and he went to work picking memories and words out of the air like a mother chimp picking the ticks off the back of her young.
“You know, it was right-over in that chair that my mother died 15 years ago.”
His “matter-of-fact” tone may have shaken some, but the young lady didn’t move from her stead under his arm and he smiled to himself while thinking of the time when he and his mother first moved into this place; but then quickly refocusing on the demise of mama.
His smile now replaced with a grin and “matter-of” replaced with “down-trodden” tone.
“I just found her slumped over in the chair hands dangling at her sides and her hair fallen over her face. She looked peaceful. Must have waited till the end of ‘days’ before she passed. She did like that doctor on the program. Probably waited till the show was over to go. Wish she could have met someone like that before the end. Just too bad. But…we don’t make the rules, just have to adhere to them.”
Henry hadn’t missed his father. He hadn’t even been angry with the man; you can’t hate what you don’t know. He hadn’t really loved his mother, but he felt a genuine attachment to her, at least through time. When he was young she used to sit alone at times and look as though she was dying. He would see the look when all was quite and he would gaze over at her for all the reasons a fatherless child looks at his mother; maybe guidance; maybe a smile; any little bit of emotion. It was then that he would see the emptiness and loss in her will. He would see her eyes fall gently upon an object and become absorbed, it was as though she was looking through all of existence, just peering into it unobtrusively and lovingly; it was then that she looked content and sometimes even happy. Then she would catch herself and look over at her only son and companion and reality would settle into what was the perfect daydream of love and happiness. It was at that point that a certain realization and disappointment hit her and occupied her corneas until bedtime.
When Henry reached the age of 34, and found himself alone and disinterested in looking anymore, he began to stumble off into the same false-reality when watching television alone and a commercial came on. He would usually stare at the product being pitched but would slowly wander off. Eyes wandering around the room hither and thither, to and fro, usually ending up on the coffee table. With his mind flying through space and time he would gather up the visions that he had of love and relationships. The visions of coy kisses and loving embraces would race through his head. He would imagine lazy Sunday mornings and smiles exchanged over his eggs ala “Henrique” (2 eggs, scrambled, mixed with cubed Velvetta and Salsa). It was truly a grand ideal. But it would end with the squealing of tires on the television; or, if the vision was really good, his own neck snapping back into place from believing too much in his own sappy dreams. This sudden attack of reality served a dual purpose: it let him know that he was still sad, both mentally and physically, and it also reminded him that his program was most likely not over yet as well.
Just as the reality of being alone reminds him of his current state of being, reality sometimes also reminds him of how to act while in the company of women. Right about now reality reminded him that his new friend would most likely not want to hear how the Grim Reaper had called his mother a gander and not a mallard in the big game of life that is all too much like Duck-Duck-Goose. Or at least that was the conclusion that Henry had reached considering the fact that the woman hadn’t made a sound in a while.
Like the oaf that he is, his air escaped from his chest declaring his mark for life, “Oooooaffff, uh, uh…I’m sure that you didn’t want to hear anything about that at a time like this. I mean, we should just be enjoying the moment. I promise I won’t say another word…promise…cross my heart,” silent for the moment…but his lack of self-confidence wouldn’t let the desire pass, “hope to die.” Quickly he turns onto his stomach and buries his head into the pillow, deliberately digging in deeper and deeper. His will power has been both humiliated and defeated. In the back of his mind he declares himself the weakest man alive and imagines an award ceremony where he would eventually forget his speech and trip on the steeps while approaching the podium.
Then he thinks about that line, “hope to die.” Henry rarely “hopes” for death. But sometimes at night he lays about in bed tossing and turning feeling as though he has done the day a disservice for not getting exhausted under it’s light and energy. But most of all he thinks about love and what possible relationships he has on the horizon. Which, as of late, were far and few between; but he was an optimist. However his optimism has been subsiding to fears of premature death and a life of loneliness. Lately he has been spending a lot of time wondering who will find him in a coma after suffering his first stroke.
No one would probably stop by for days or maybe even weeks.
His work place was accustomed to his face, but didn’t really need him around, and could, for all practical purposes, function without his presence. Like so many other nights he was now drifting off to that place between sleep and the final thoughts of a wasted day.
Sweet release. No more worries about strokes and wasted hours…
As the refrigerator’s cooler slipped on in Henry’s dark and earthly colored apartment he was brought back from the sleep side of the final thought and forced into full realization that he didn’t want to die. He really, really didn’t want to die. As he thought about the inevitable and impending stroke, that he was convinced would come any day now, a single tear fell from his eye and he whispered his mantra back to limbo; hoping that this time sleep would win the battle.
“Soon enough you’ll have her here. Soon enough someone will be here for you in the morning. Someday you’ll find her. Someday you’ll know she loves you. Some day you’ll share the eggs and paper. Some day, soon, some day, before you know it, you’ll…find, it…soo…”
Off he goes to the land of no remorse, the greatest form of denial: sleep. Even if you find yourself naked in public or falling off of a building there the worst reality you have to deal with is a bead of sweat or a subtle laugh to greet your days. And tonight his self-comforting words were enough to rock his mind back to sleep and would most likely do the trick until the stroke took him.
A “she” would find him.
But “she” wouldn’t have known who he was, and “she” would never know that he waited for her every day and talked to her every night.
“She” was just wondering why he hadn’t turned on his lights or tried to look through her blinds for the past four days.
The hunch paid off.
Too bad, “she” never tried the eggs ala "Henrique."
Now to the tale...take care. Love ya.
Egg Strokes
Moving in a little closer with every second he was now a perfect mold of the figure lying next to him. He had gently swayed here and inched there in order to receive the maximum amount of touch combined with the least amount of space allowed to two figures. Henry gently chooses his words as he leans over to the beauty now occupying his bed and mind
.
“I…I really don’t know how to tell you all that I am thinking.”
She remains silent not knowing what to expect.
“You see, I was so pleased to run into you again today…after first talking to you I, I thought that I would never see you again. You seemed so, so, so…”
He had always stumbled over his words whenever relaying emotion.
“You, see…I mean someone, so, well, so lovely,” the word stuck to his tongue like honey to a spoon slowly dripping off the subtle, round tip into the cup of tea that was his pent up desires and dreams.
“And there you were again today. I just knew that I had to take advantage of the situation. I can’t tell you how, well just, how…great it is to have you over here with me.”
Feeling a little more at ease and one with the environment Henry looks around the baron room and begins to remember the days when he and his mother would often sit in this same one-room apartment and watch their programs together. She was always a fan of the afternoon dramas whereas he hadn’t ever really preferred any specific program but more or less used the time to get away from the drudgeries of daily life. He had a typical upbringing: not enough coddling, “latch-key” kid, parent’s divorced, never allowed to have a dog, picked on at school, but later accepted by those more conducive to mediocrity, etc., etc. Henry was nothing special by any means.
With his eyes floating casually about the room his tongue became more and more relaxed and his thoughts drifted through time and he went to work picking memories and words out of the air like a mother chimp picking the ticks off the back of her young.
“You know, it was right-over in that chair that my mother died 15 years ago.”
His “matter-of-fact” tone may have shaken some, but the young lady didn’t move from her stead under his arm and he smiled to himself while thinking of the time when he and his mother first moved into this place; but then quickly refocusing on the demise of mama.
His smile now replaced with a grin and “matter-of” replaced with “down-trodden” tone.
“I just found her slumped over in the chair hands dangling at her sides and her hair fallen over her face. She looked peaceful. Must have waited till the end of ‘days’ before she passed. She did like that doctor on the program. Probably waited till the show was over to go. Wish she could have met someone like that before the end. Just too bad. But…we don’t make the rules, just have to adhere to them.”
Henry hadn’t missed his father. He hadn’t even been angry with the man; you can’t hate what you don’t know. He hadn’t really loved his mother, but he felt a genuine attachment to her, at least through time. When he was young she used to sit alone at times and look as though she was dying. He would see the look when all was quite and he would gaze over at her for all the reasons a fatherless child looks at his mother; maybe guidance; maybe a smile; any little bit of emotion. It was then that he would see the emptiness and loss in her will. He would see her eyes fall gently upon an object and become absorbed, it was as though she was looking through all of existence, just peering into it unobtrusively and lovingly; it was then that she looked content and sometimes even happy. Then she would catch herself and look over at her only son and companion and reality would settle into what was the perfect daydream of love and happiness. It was at that point that a certain realization and disappointment hit her and occupied her corneas until bedtime.
When Henry reached the age of 34, and found himself alone and disinterested in looking anymore, he began to stumble off into the same false-reality when watching television alone and a commercial came on. He would usually stare at the product being pitched but would slowly wander off. Eyes wandering around the room hither and thither, to and fro, usually ending up on the coffee table. With his mind flying through space and time he would gather up the visions that he had of love and relationships. The visions of coy kisses and loving embraces would race through his head. He would imagine lazy Sunday mornings and smiles exchanged over his eggs ala “Henrique” (2 eggs, scrambled, mixed with cubed Velvetta and Salsa). It was truly a grand ideal. But it would end with the squealing of tires on the television; or, if the vision was really good, his own neck snapping back into place from believing too much in his own sappy dreams. This sudden attack of reality served a dual purpose: it let him know that he was still sad, both mentally and physically, and it also reminded him that his program was most likely not over yet as well.
Just as the reality of being alone reminds him of his current state of being, reality sometimes also reminds him of how to act while in the company of women. Right about now reality reminded him that his new friend would most likely not want to hear how the Grim Reaper had called his mother a gander and not a mallard in the big game of life that is all too much like Duck-Duck-Goose. Or at least that was the conclusion that Henry had reached considering the fact that the woman hadn’t made a sound in a while.
Like the oaf that he is, his air escaped from his chest declaring his mark for life, “Oooooaffff, uh, uh…I’m sure that you didn’t want to hear anything about that at a time like this. I mean, we should just be enjoying the moment. I promise I won’t say another word…promise…cross my heart,” silent for the moment…but his lack of self-confidence wouldn’t let the desire pass, “hope to die.” Quickly he turns onto his stomach and buries his head into the pillow, deliberately digging in deeper and deeper. His will power has been both humiliated and defeated. In the back of his mind he declares himself the weakest man alive and imagines an award ceremony where he would eventually forget his speech and trip on the steeps while approaching the podium.
Then he thinks about that line, “hope to die.” Henry rarely “hopes” for death. But sometimes at night he lays about in bed tossing and turning feeling as though he has done the day a disservice for not getting exhausted under it’s light and energy. But most of all he thinks about love and what possible relationships he has on the horizon. Which, as of late, were far and few between; but he was an optimist. However his optimism has been subsiding to fears of premature death and a life of loneliness. Lately he has been spending a lot of time wondering who will find him in a coma after suffering his first stroke.
No one would probably stop by for days or maybe even weeks.
His work place was accustomed to his face, but didn’t really need him around, and could, for all practical purposes, function without his presence. Like so many other nights he was now drifting off to that place between sleep and the final thoughts of a wasted day.
Sweet release. No more worries about strokes and wasted hours…
As the refrigerator’s cooler slipped on in Henry’s dark and earthly colored apartment he was brought back from the sleep side of the final thought and forced into full realization that he didn’t want to die. He really, really didn’t want to die. As he thought about the inevitable and impending stroke, that he was convinced would come any day now, a single tear fell from his eye and he whispered his mantra back to limbo; hoping that this time sleep would win the battle.
“Soon enough you’ll have her here. Soon enough someone will be here for you in the morning. Someday you’ll find her. Someday you’ll know she loves you. Some day you’ll share the eggs and paper. Some day, soon, some day, before you know it, you’ll…find, it…soo…”
Off he goes to the land of no remorse, the greatest form of denial: sleep. Even if you find yourself naked in public or falling off of a building there the worst reality you have to deal with is a bead of sweat or a subtle laugh to greet your days. And tonight his self-comforting words were enough to rock his mind back to sleep and would most likely do the trick until the stroke took him.
A “she” would find him.
But “she” wouldn’t have known who he was, and “she” would never know that he waited for her every day and talked to her every night.
“She” was just wondering why he hadn’t turned on his lights or tried to look through her blinds for the past four days.
The hunch paid off.
Too bad, “she” never tried the eggs ala "Henrique."
1.11.2005
Today's Headlines...
Today’s Top Story…
Have you ever just sat back and thought about how much of your life is, or has been, affected by two simple words? “Yes” and “No” are two of the first things that you learn and most likely they are two of the most used words in anyone’s vocabulary. The reason that I am bringing this to your attention is because I have been asked to make a choice that requires me to state one of the two terms listed above.
“Do I want to stay in Japan for another year?”
Honestly, like so many other things, I don’t know. I am enjoying this place just fine, but is this were I want to spent another year of my life?
Since coming here I have spent quite a bit of time on this question and have found that my answer varies day to day. Today feels like a “yes” day, but tomorrow could easily be a “no.” Who knows?
I know that if I were to ask my mother what she thought she would most likely tell me “no,” and that is an answer that I could easily listen to. But am I then selling myself short?
What do I have to gain?
What do I have to loose?
Next year I would come home for Christmas. Next year I would be more prepared for class. Next year I could maybe save some money and actually travel.
Then again next year I could be attending school in the states and working towards my masters degree…in what I do not know.
“Life is full of important choices,” or so the poster with the collection of beer cans from around the world tells me. Is this one important? Is it a life or death situation?
Who knows?
Not me.
In other news…
I went to church last Sunday. It was a nice mass conducted by a kind looking old priest. I think he was Spanish, French maybe, I’m not certain. But I do know that his accent made it a little difficult for me to understand his Homily. Although I did gather that it had something to do with either paying or praying…or maybe it was prancing. Something like that. Another nice ambiance was the music. It seemed as though all of the songs were older hymns that were written in the key of uncertainty, or perhaps it was just this parish’s interpretation, I’m not certain. But I do know that I have never been privy to such a group of confused cantors. It was fun. They didn’t know whether to start or stop, or what key to sing in. Thus many people just didn’t sing and those that were I think took every other line for a good laugh; I know I did.
Either way it was an enjoyable event and it definitely reminded me that God’s work is done through ordinary people that can’t really sing worth a nickel and priest’s that stumble over their words when giving a sermon in a second language. Who’s to blame the man? I can’t read, let alone speak, in any other language besides my own.
Another interesting side note: I haven’t seen so many white folks in one place since I left at O’Hare. The ratio of cracker to wafer was defiantly a close one…
And Now in Sporting News…
In a quest to hurt and alarm as many Japanese folks as possible I threw my hat into the ring for the 31st Annual Tiger Bowl held at a local University (a two-hand touch American-Football tournament). I was drafted into the only team containing foreigners, the OTC Rangers (I don’t know, so don’t ask). All together the 12-man team consisted of about 5 who had played before and the rest not having a clue what they were supposed to do. After a quick tutorial we were set to play, or at least they told us that if we wanted to remain in the tournament we had better play.
The first game was against a first round winner (we had a bye) that contained some University Alums and a few younger guys. We received and held onto the ball for almost the entire first half while marching down the field. With about 2 minutes left in the first half we scored what would be our only touchdown of the day. It was pretty.
The second half was a battle between our astounding defense and poor offense. We didn’t score again, but we didn’t need to, as the clock quickly moved through the second half leaving us the victors due to our first half score. We were in the championships.
With an air of lethargy and Sapporo wafting about the Rangers they settled in to rage war against the defending Japanese National Champions…high school champions that is. Okay, so I felt kind of bad going up against a bunch of youngsters, but they lined up against us and they were acting as though they really wanted to go at it. So we did. And youth prevailed in overtime scoring off of an 8-yard quarterback keeper. Those guys were fast. One highlight from this game would have to be a defensive fumble recovery on the one yard line by yours truly and the many elbows that I intentionally threw in the face of these little wise-asses. I don’t know what they were saying, but I didn’t like their looks.
In the end I found that, like most Japanese social functions, there was a lot of tradition/ceremonial mumbo-jumbo associated with such events. We had to constantly bow and constantly line-up to hear announcements and what not. And at the end of the day each of the three top teams took a minute and said something about the day as they handed out the awards. And as I stood there a little tired and dismayed at loosing to the younger and much smaller opposition I heard what I thought was my name being called out. Then I heard it again and looked up this time only to see my teammates telling me to go to the front. I didn’t know what to think. When I got up there the MC handed me a certificate and someone told me that it was the MVP award. I was truly surprised…I didn’t think that I had been the best player out of these 70+ men surrounding me. But they thought that I was, so happily and with much excitement I turned around a held up the award and was then told that I needed to get my plaque as well. Plaque? Wha? It’s nice. But I’m not totally convinced that MVP doesn’t really mean Most Visible Player as opposed to Most Valuable Player. Eh, who am I to question it? I am pretty good…at least in Japan.
So for those of you that are keeping track of my exploits over here in the Orient I have now buried a deaf-person in Rugby and intentionally knocked over and elbowed high school kids in two-hand touch Football. Call me what you will but I know what I am: an accomplished sportsman and an MVP recipient at the 31st Annual Tiger Bowl.
Have you ever just sat back and thought about how much of your life is, or has been, affected by two simple words? “Yes” and “No” are two of the first things that you learn and most likely they are two of the most used words in anyone’s vocabulary. The reason that I am bringing this to your attention is because I have been asked to make a choice that requires me to state one of the two terms listed above.
“Do I want to stay in Japan for another year?”
Honestly, like so many other things, I don’t know. I am enjoying this place just fine, but is this were I want to spent another year of my life?
Since coming here I have spent quite a bit of time on this question and have found that my answer varies day to day. Today feels like a “yes” day, but tomorrow could easily be a “no.” Who knows?
I know that if I were to ask my mother what she thought she would most likely tell me “no,” and that is an answer that I could easily listen to. But am I then selling myself short?
What do I have to gain?
What do I have to loose?
Next year I would come home for Christmas. Next year I would be more prepared for class. Next year I could maybe save some money and actually travel.
Then again next year I could be attending school in the states and working towards my masters degree…in what I do not know.
“Life is full of important choices,” or so the poster with the collection of beer cans from around the world tells me. Is this one important? Is it a life or death situation?
Who knows?
Not me.
In other news…
I went to church last Sunday. It was a nice mass conducted by a kind looking old priest. I think he was Spanish, French maybe, I’m not certain. But I do know that his accent made it a little difficult for me to understand his Homily. Although I did gather that it had something to do with either paying or praying…or maybe it was prancing. Something like that. Another nice ambiance was the music. It seemed as though all of the songs were older hymns that were written in the key of uncertainty, or perhaps it was just this parish’s interpretation, I’m not certain. But I do know that I have never been privy to such a group of confused cantors. It was fun. They didn’t know whether to start or stop, or what key to sing in. Thus many people just didn’t sing and those that were I think took every other line for a good laugh; I know I did.
Either way it was an enjoyable event and it definitely reminded me that God’s work is done through ordinary people that can’t really sing worth a nickel and priest’s that stumble over their words when giving a sermon in a second language. Who’s to blame the man? I can’t read, let alone speak, in any other language besides my own.
Another interesting side note: I haven’t seen so many white folks in one place since I left at O’Hare. The ratio of cracker to wafer was defiantly a close one…
And Now in Sporting News…
In a quest to hurt and alarm as many Japanese folks as possible I threw my hat into the ring for the 31st Annual Tiger Bowl held at a local University (a two-hand touch American-Football tournament). I was drafted into the only team containing foreigners, the OTC Rangers (I don’t know, so don’t ask). All together the 12-man team consisted of about 5 who had played before and the rest not having a clue what they were supposed to do. After a quick tutorial we were set to play, or at least they told us that if we wanted to remain in the tournament we had better play.
The first game was against a first round winner (we had a bye) that contained some University Alums and a few younger guys. We received and held onto the ball for almost the entire first half while marching down the field. With about 2 minutes left in the first half we scored what would be our only touchdown of the day. It was pretty.
The second half was a battle between our astounding defense and poor offense. We didn’t score again, but we didn’t need to, as the clock quickly moved through the second half leaving us the victors due to our first half score. We were in the championships.
With an air of lethargy and Sapporo wafting about the Rangers they settled in to rage war against the defending Japanese National Champions…high school champions that is. Okay, so I felt kind of bad going up against a bunch of youngsters, but they lined up against us and they were acting as though they really wanted to go at it. So we did. And youth prevailed in overtime scoring off of an 8-yard quarterback keeper. Those guys were fast. One highlight from this game would have to be a defensive fumble recovery on the one yard line by yours truly and the many elbows that I intentionally threw in the face of these little wise-asses. I don’t know what they were saying, but I didn’t like their looks.
In the end I found that, like most Japanese social functions, there was a lot of tradition/ceremonial mumbo-jumbo associated with such events. We had to constantly bow and constantly line-up to hear announcements and what not. And at the end of the day each of the three top teams took a minute and said something about the day as they handed out the awards. And as I stood there a little tired and dismayed at loosing to the younger and much smaller opposition I heard what I thought was my name being called out. Then I heard it again and looked up this time only to see my teammates telling me to go to the front. I didn’t know what to think. When I got up there the MC handed me a certificate and someone told me that it was the MVP award. I was truly surprised…I didn’t think that I had been the best player out of these 70+ men surrounding me. But they thought that I was, so happily and with much excitement I turned around a held up the award and was then told that I needed to get my plaque as well. Plaque? Wha? It’s nice. But I’m not totally convinced that MVP doesn’t really mean Most Visible Player as opposed to Most Valuable Player. Eh, who am I to question it? I am pretty good…at least in Japan.
So for those of you that are keeping track of my exploits over here in the Orient I have now buried a deaf-person in Rugby and intentionally knocked over and elbowed high school kids in two-hand touch Football. Call me what you will but I know what I am: an accomplished sportsman and an MVP recipient at the 31st Annual Tiger Bowl.
1.08.2005
New Additions
With all of these new additions I hope that you all don't forget to check out the writings as well. I hope that you enjoy the pictures though. If it is too much to look at the pictures here I can just give you all the address to where the pictures are posted originally (http://www.flickr.com/photos/89577954@N00/). Please, let me know what you think. And be sure to take care of yourself. Thank you very much.
What all the kids want for Christmas
For about ¥1,288,000 (about $12, 800) you too could own a pair of monkeys. Shots not guaranteed.
Osaka at night
The big city near where I live (about 15minutes via train). Beautiful night view. Oh look, it's raining. Imagine that...
Osetshidori (spelling may be wrong)
Traditional Oshogatsu (New Year's celebration) meal. Made to eat for the first three days of the new year (so that the women of the house don't have to cook). Oshi ne?
Flamenco Party
A nice photo of one happy group of kids at a flamenco party hosted by the Spanish consulate. The big guy, no not me-the other one, was the guitar player. Nice guy. He really rocked out on that flamenco stuff. Note: I do not know the person farthest to the left, but he/she does not look happy.
pervert
Think this kid knows what that hat means? Well in case he looks at this site it means "hentaisha" in Romanji. Dirty little boy.
View from Eichi Campus
Random view from the campus on which I teach. Quaint little place I got here.
Porcupine Fish at Osaka Aquarium
This was by far cooler than the lame whale shark. Plus I think that it is a little more dangerous. And "no" I haven't eaten this fish sashimi style...yet.
1.06.2005
Snow in Kobe
It might not look like much, but it is actually a Japanese snow storm. No Tsunami...thank you God.
Singing in the New Year. Ha!
Stevie Wonder does it again...bringing the communication gap a little closer.
At least I didn't gain 20 pounds this season...
Another year has past and here I am one day ahead already. This is truly great, I feel as though I am light-years’ ahead of all of my peers. I was the first of the whole lot to put my New Years Resolutions into practice and I was the first one to welcome the actual New Year, you ungrateful group you. I've got 15 hours of productivity to beat you all with!
Well, how was your new year? Productive and exciting I am sure. I spent the night with a bunch of Cambodian folks. Nice folks them Cambod’s. They cooked and entertained me with Cambodian culinary and karaoke skills. The combination was a complete success! One of the most astounding features of the group was the simple fact that they all spoke English so well…I really wish that they were all my students; because if they were every class would be like a…really easy English as a foreign language class (I challenge you to come up with a better analogy).
So what do all of you want to accomplish in the New Year? Loose weight? Get your pectorals into shape for the beach this summer? Whatever it may be, good luck. My own resolution is a big secret. It’s life altering though, I’ll tell you that.
“What else is new?” You may be asking…well to be honest, not a whole hell of a lot. I have been doing a lot of sitting lately. But it hasn’t been just any ole sitting, oh no. It’s been stuff like sitting in my room on the floor and sometimes in a chair. Why even right now I am sitting in a different location, I’m in my office! I’ve also sat on a few buses and trains lately. I took a trip to an exhibit of “The Art of Star Wars,” and lived vicariously through most of the people I knew in high school. They would be so jealous if they knew all that I had seen. For instance: the Gold Bikini from Jabba’s palace (you know the one that 9 out of 10 young men fantasized about while growing up between 1982-1989), I also saw the original Millennium Falcon and that big Cruiser ship at the beginning of Episode IV. It was pretty cool. Jealous? I hope so because that was the main reason that I even went. It was pretty neat-o though. But I didn’t get to sit for that one, had to stand the whole time.
Where else have I sat lately? Hmmmm…well I sat all crossed legged while enjoying the Japanese holiday of Oshogatsu, or the New Year’s celebration. We sat around for a few days and ate lots and lots of Naba. This is an interesting and tasty dish which is made by taking all sorts of meat and vegetables and cooking them at the table in an earthen dish by boiling them in a type of stock. Sounds bland I know, but it is pretty delish in all actuality.
Other then those few things I haven’t done too much. Oh wait; I recently looked over at the calendar and saw that Christmas has pasted since my last post. Well that doesn’t matter…it’s an old calendar and I am pretty sure that God had the date moved so that I wouldn’t commit the awful crime of spending it away from my family and friends. But just in case you all didn’t get the memo, happy Merry Christmas (as commonly said in Japan, silly folks, they think that the holiday is actually “Merry Christmas”).
Did you know that they have KFC in Japan? Did you also know that it is widely believed that fried chicken is thought to be the traditional meal over here? That wouldn’t be all that bad…it would save a lot of people the trouble of making whatever it is that you usually eat on Christmas. Plus it would be good for the colonel, and what’s good for the colonel is good for the country. You love America right? Well eat your KFC.
For the most part people don’t really celebrate Christmas, including me this year, as a result of only 1% of the population being Christians. But the holiday mentioned earlier, Oshogatsu, is used as the big winter holiday and it was traditionally a day in which families would celebrate their birthdays together. This is to say that it didn’t matter what day you were really born, everyone celebrated his or her birthday on this day. A nice little “hey you made it through another year in your life,” kind of celebration. Nice thought eh. Well I will tell you one thing about the holiday, you eat enough cabbage to keep you regular throughout the entire celebration, if not the entire month. Whew.
Well…I think that I shall run and sit at yet another location. I hope that all is well for those that read this, for the rest I’ll just say we’ll deal with you later…I bet they won’t even see it coming. Take care and enjoy the holidays, or what’s left of them. Love ya!
Well, how was your new year? Productive and exciting I am sure. I spent the night with a bunch of Cambodian folks. Nice folks them Cambod’s. They cooked and entertained me with Cambodian culinary and karaoke skills. The combination was a complete success! One of the most astounding features of the group was the simple fact that they all spoke English so well…I really wish that they were all my students; because if they were every class would be like a…really easy English as a foreign language class (I challenge you to come up with a better analogy).
So what do all of you want to accomplish in the New Year? Loose weight? Get your pectorals into shape for the beach this summer? Whatever it may be, good luck. My own resolution is a big secret. It’s life altering though, I’ll tell you that.
“What else is new?” You may be asking…well to be honest, not a whole hell of a lot. I have been doing a lot of sitting lately. But it hasn’t been just any ole sitting, oh no. It’s been stuff like sitting in my room on the floor and sometimes in a chair. Why even right now I am sitting in a different location, I’m in my office! I’ve also sat on a few buses and trains lately. I took a trip to an exhibit of “The Art of Star Wars,” and lived vicariously through most of the people I knew in high school. They would be so jealous if they knew all that I had seen. For instance: the Gold Bikini from Jabba’s palace (you know the one that 9 out of 10 young men fantasized about while growing up between 1982-1989), I also saw the original Millennium Falcon and that big Cruiser ship at the beginning of Episode IV. It was pretty cool. Jealous? I hope so because that was the main reason that I even went. It was pretty neat-o though. But I didn’t get to sit for that one, had to stand the whole time.
Where else have I sat lately? Hmmmm…well I sat all crossed legged while enjoying the Japanese holiday of Oshogatsu, or the New Year’s celebration. We sat around for a few days and ate lots and lots of Naba. This is an interesting and tasty dish which is made by taking all sorts of meat and vegetables and cooking them at the table in an earthen dish by boiling them in a type of stock. Sounds bland I know, but it is pretty delish in all actuality.
Other then those few things I haven’t done too much. Oh wait; I recently looked over at the calendar and saw that Christmas has pasted since my last post. Well that doesn’t matter…it’s an old calendar and I am pretty sure that God had the date moved so that I wouldn’t commit the awful crime of spending it away from my family and friends. But just in case you all didn’t get the memo, happy Merry Christmas (as commonly said in Japan, silly folks, they think that the holiday is actually “Merry Christmas”).
Did you know that they have KFC in Japan? Did you also know that it is widely believed that fried chicken is thought to be the traditional meal over here? That wouldn’t be all that bad…it would save a lot of people the trouble of making whatever it is that you usually eat on Christmas. Plus it would be good for the colonel, and what’s good for the colonel is good for the country. You love America right? Well eat your KFC.
For the most part people don’t really celebrate Christmas, including me this year, as a result of only 1% of the population being Christians. But the holiday mentioned earlier, Oshogatsu, is used as the big winter holiday and it was traditionally a day in which families would celebrate their birthdays together. This is to say that it didn’t matter what day you were really born, everyone celebrated his or her birthday on this day. A nice little “hey you made it through another year in your life,” kind of celebration. Nice thought eh. Well I will tell you one thing about the holiday, you eat enough cabbage to keep you regular throughout the entire celebration, if not the entire month. Whew.
Well…I think that I shall run and sit at yet another location. I hope that all is well for those that read this, for the rest I’ll just say we’ll deal with you later…I bet they won’t even see it coming. Take care and enjoy the holidays, or what’s left of them. Love ya!
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