Notes From a Wierd Island
Well, I can say that I've now settled in (though my intestines and bowels would at this moment violently disagree). Life sure is strange in the land of the individually wrapped banana: I was quite impressed the other day to see a huge bag of Mini McVities Chocolate Digestives in the local convini (Japanese for convenience store – Spar basically) – was less impressed when I discovered that the reason it was a huge bag was because each one of the mini digestives was wrapped in cellophane. They take these things too far you know: I bought a postcard this morning and that was individually wrapped. As was an apple I bought the day before. I’m going to suffocate in plastic…
Incidentally – who knew that Spar was a multinational giant? There’s a supermarket here called Hi-Tomato, which are everywhere, and next to their name is the Spar name and logo! They don’t stock handy sewing kits and tape measures though, or six cans of Spar lager for 3.99.
The lovely Robin arrived 11 days ago and we have been spending our spare hours (i.e. those few after work and during the weekend when not hung-over) setting up our tiny apartment. Had a very amusing half-hour at a second-hand furniture store miming "do you deliver?" until they went to get the lowly shop-boy who could speak English (I think that made his day actually, seemed very pleased...). My teachers seem oddly excited that Robin has arrived; they keep asking about her, pointing at me and saying Robin-san and talking away for minutes at a time. The other day I got in from lunch and the home economics teacher, Mezawa-sensei, took great delight in telling me that she’d seen me and Robin holding hands in the street – which was a little unsettling actually. Good job she didn’t see us smooching….
Being in Japan I can only keep up with the cricket by internet – the wonderful BBC. We lost the first test of course, but the second test was last weekend (as you know). When I looked up the scorecard on Tuesday morning I noticed England had levelled the Ashes; I smiled to myself and carried on as normal. Actually I let cry a primeval "whoop" in the office and followed it up with some air punching, and shouting "Howzat!! Howzat yer Australian swines! Yeeeee-Haaaaa!" My Japanese colleagues were quite shocked. That is one or two of them squinted slightly. It’s hard to get anything out of these chaps. One day last week I’d been practicing all day saying “Osaki ni shitsurei shimasu” which means basically “I’m off now, sorry to leave before you” which I have to say to the highest ranking teacher in the room when I leave for the day – normally the Kyoto-sensei (vice-principle). So I walked up to his desk, gave a little bow and said my bit. In return I got a short grunt and a cursory glance in my direction before he got back to that very important nap he was pretending not to have. My supervisor said the next day how very pleased and impressed with my behaviour the Kyoto-sensei had said he was. Odd people this lot.
Last night – Sunday – was the “Kureha High School Philharmonic Orchestra 21th Anuual Regular Concert” (yep – the 21th: I think the musical director must have a lithp) and I was expected to go – as was Robin (“This ticket that Kyoto-sensei very kindly got for you for your Robin he went to lot of trouble to get ticket and you must thank him it very difficult for Robin to come but now she can we are very rooking forward to meeting her….”) Lucky Robin. The concert was awful: an hour and a half of mechanical, out of tune, and out of time music. But for a High School orchestra that’s good isn’t it? The program was Sibelius, Dvorak’s Slavic Dances, and symphony No.8 (packed full of hits that last one). Ambitious neh? The Dvorak involves lots of French horn and clarinet and those, unfortunately, seemed to be the only two sections in the orchestra who really shouldn’t have figured prominently – if at all. Stage hands maybe. I started feeling sorry for the poor buggers after a while. I think the clarinetist was going to cry after her fifth attempt at getting her bit right (you know the theme from the Hovis ads?) And two of the four French horns I’m sure were mercilessly pinched after the concert by the other two horns – one seemed unwilling to empty the spit out his horn, adding a whimsical underwater effect to the whole thing, and the other didn’t seem to know what was going on at all, constantly playing several scales above everyone else. Still they did an encore of Land of Hope and Glory which was quite rousing – or would have been if they hadn’t been so mechanical. I dragged Robin around the lobby after, making sure the right teachers saw my face and met Robin (Yamazaki-sensei the calligraphy teacher: “oh, she is very cuuute”), before scarpering to the nearest pub.
When we’re not in school ALTs tend to get together and drink a lot. Last weekend we went up to Himi, a coastal town, for a beach party. They’ve got pubs on the beach itself so a fine afternoon of drinking, leaping theatrically off platforms in the sea, and extreme Frisbee was had by all. We followed it up with Indian food from, so far, the best Indian place in the Ken (county) and rounded it off with a few games of electronic darts, ping-pong and karaoke at a local complex-thing. Avoided the karaoke this time round. Couldn’t avoid a drunken cycle home though. Talking of which – I got my bloody bike stolen Saturday night. Robin and I met up with some friends in town for some pool and beers – come midnightish we went to look for our bikes only to find mine gone (Robin had borrowed a friend’s since she hadn’t got one yet). Admittedly I hadn’t locked mine up – I haven’t since I got here as it is so old it has faded to grey, is falling apart, the lock is buggered, and I’d been told that tea-leafery was rare. Lydia, a second year, told me that I should just take one of the other bikes there. Nick one in other words, people do it all the time apparently. It’s a vicious cycle…..b-boom boom tssshhhhh…..thankyouverymuch. Well, I was terribly terribly drunk at the time so I did. Then the next day I felt really bad about it and took it back (I’m sure there’s a pun there somewhere about karma, but I’m buggered if I can see it). Apparently they do that a lot too – just borrow it for the night. Though they don’t seem to have returned mine yet….
Bought new bikes the day after actually – Robin got a red one of course. However the only bike they had big enough for me was a second hand 21 gear Bridgestone mountain bike. Quite nice actually, and cheap too. So far neither has been nicked. We double lock see…..
However, all told, I don’t think this Japanese thing will be so bad – last night I found a foreign store that sells Banrock Station Shiraz, Shiraz Cabernet, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot by the box (OK, not the best wine but it is familiar, which is nice, and a box contains three bottles for 1200 yen, approx six pounds), Yellow Tail, Beaugeolais, and Chianti. Other delights included Guinness, Victoria Bitter, Heineken, Kalhua, pickles, olives, real rice (not the sticky Japanese type which tires easily), and stacks of other good stuff. Heinz Baked Beans were a scandalous 400 yen (two pounds) a tin. Am not that desperate yet, but it is nice to know they’re there. There was no Brains however so if anybody wants to take pity on a thirsty Welshman stuck in foreign climes…
We found an Ikea-esque store downtown called the 'Home Piasa' and have been there several times in the last week. So much so that the one English-speaking girl who works tries to hide whenever she sees us come in. Last night – cycling home from our latest excursion (extendable clothes pole, pillow, bin, curtains, another futon – to be delivered) – we passed through the main shopping thoroughfare of Toyama: it’s great, packed full of western-style boutiques with really weird names – Tomorrow Man Part II is a good one, as is The Big Muff. There’s also a local drink, much like the Pocari Sweat of my previous missive, called Calpis – pronounced of course by most JETs as cow-piss. Chocolate covered coffee beans (one of my London staples) here are called ‘Business Assist Chocolate.
T-shirts with Engrish slogans on them are quite the item here. Saw a girl wearing a t-shirt that said ‘Low Fat Milk vs Skim Milk’ – which is an important debate I think. Another said ‘Look At This Bitch.’ There’s a bit of a competition in the JET community for the wackiest shirt, so far "I am A Girl, Lets Enjoying Ourselves" is winning. The local department store, the Marier, has a campaign in called "Marier de Hunting", with some kanji (Japanese pictograms) thrown in. It translates as "Marier Hunting the Autumn," which is what you want your David Morgans to be doing really isn’t it?
Just saw a spectacle of surreal magnificence. As I was walking to school a xylophone started to blare form the car park of a nearby high tech firm – the building a sleeck bubble of plastic and glass. As this nursery-time plinky plonky continued a voice track came on and out of every previously unseen door came men, young and old, in answer to the music -- like the Eloi people from HG Wells' The Time Machine. It was soon obvious that this was part of that famous Japanese work culture where they might exercise or sing the company song or ritually cut themselves before the workday begins. This one seemed to be a variation of Tai-chi – only unlike the hundreds of Chinese I’ve seen doing it in Beijing parks this one was far more Tellytubby-esque with the music and the disembodied voice. They chatted and laughed to each other as they moved but I couldn’t keep from my head the scene from '1984' of Winston Smith in front of the telescreen doing the mandatory 'Physical Jerks' and being screamed at by the state-instructor: "6079 Smith W.! Yes, you! Bend lower, please! You can do better than that. You're not trying. Lower! That's better, comrade"
Incidentally – who knew that Spar was a multinational giant? There’s a supermarket here called Hi-Tomato, which are everywhere, and next to their name is the Spar name and logo! They don’t stock handy sewing kits and tape measures though, or six cans of Spar lager for 3.99.
The lovely Robin arrived 11 days ago and we have been spending our spare hours (i.e. those few after work and during the weekend when not hung-over) setting up our tiny apartment. Had a very amusing half-hour at a second-hand furniture store miming "do you deliver?" until they went to get the lowly shop-boy who could speak English (I think that made his day actually, seemed very pleased...). My teachers seem oddly excited that Robin has arrived; they keep asking about her, pointing at me and saying Robin-san and talking away for minutes at a time. The other day I got in from lunch and the home economics teacher, Mezawa-sensei, took great delight in telling me that she’d seen me and Robin holding hands in the street – which was a little unsettling actually. Good job she didn’t see us smooching….
Being in Japan I can only keep up with the cricket by internet – the wonderful BBC. We lost the first test of course, but the second test was last weekend (as you know). When I looked up the scorecard on Tuesday morning I noticed England had levelled the Ashes; I smiled to myself and carried on as normal. Actually I let cry a primeval "whoop" in the office and followed it up with some air punching, and shouting "Howzat!! Howzat yer Australian swines! Yeeeee-Haaaaa!" My Japanese colleagues were quite shocked. That is one or two of them squinted slightly. It’s hard to get anything out of these chaps. One day last week I’d been practicing all day saying “Osaki ni shitsurei shimasu” which means basically “I’m off now, sorry to leave before you” which I have to say to the highest ranking teacher in the room when I leave for the day – normally the Kyoto-sensei (vice-principle). So I walked up to his desk, gave a little bow and said my bit. In return I got a short grunt and a cursory glance in my direction before he got back to that very important nap he was pretending not to have. My supervisor said the next day how very pleased and impressed with my behaviour the Kyoto-sensei had said he was. Odd people this lot.
Last night – Sunday – was the “Kureha High School Philharmonic Orchestra 21th Anuual Regular Concert” (yep – the 21th: I think the musical director must have a lithp) and I was expected to go – as was Robin (“This ticket that Kyoto-sensei very kindly got for you for your Robin he went to lot of trouble to get ticket and you must thank him it very difficult for Robin to come but now she can we are very rooking forward to meeting her….”) Lucky Robin. The concert was awful: an hour and a half of mechanical, out of tune, and out of time music. But for a High School orchestra that’s good isn’t it? The program was Sibelius, Dvorak’s Slavic Dances, and symphony No.8 (packed full of hits that last one). Ambitious neh? The Dvorak involves lots of French horn and clarinet and those, unfortunately, seemed to be the only two sections in the orchestra who really shouldn’t have figured prominently – if at all. Stage hands maybe. I started feeling sorry for the poor buggers after a while. I think the clarinetist was going to cry after her fifth attempt at getting her bit right (you know the theme from the Hovis ads?) And two of the four French horns I’m sure were mercilessly pinched after the concert by the other two horns – one seemed unwilling to empty the spit out his horn, adding a whimsical underwater effect to the whole thing, and the other didn’t seem to know what was going on at all, constantly playing several scales above everyone else. Still they did an encore of Land of Hope and Glory which was quite rousing – or would have been if they hadn’t been so mechanical. I dragged Robin around the lobby after, making sure the right teachers saw my face and met Robin (Yamazaki-sensei the calligraphy teacher: “oh, she is very cuuute”), before scarpering to the nearest pub.
When we’re not in school ALTs tend to get together and drink a lot. Last weekend we went up to Himi, a coastal town, for a beach party. They’ve got pubs on the beach itself so a fine afternoon of drinking, leaping theatrically off platforms in the sea, and extreme Frisbee was had by all. We followed it up with Indian food from, so far, the best Indian place in the Ken (county) and rounded it off with a few games of electronic darts, ping-pong and karaoke at a local complex-thing. Avoided the karaoke this time round. Couldn’t avoid a drunken cycle home though. Talking of which – I got my bloody bike stolen Saturday night. Robin and I met up with some friends in town for some pool and beers – come midnightish we went to look for our bikes only to find mine gone (Robin had borrowed a friend’s since she hadn’t got one yet). Admittedly I hadn’t locked mine up – I haven’t since I got here as it is so old it has faded to grey, is falling apart, the lock is buggered, and I’d been told that tea-leafery was rare. Lydia, a second year, told me that I should just take one of the other bikes there. Nick one in other words, people do it all the time apparently. It’s a vicious cycle…..b-boom boom tssshhhhh…..thankyouverymuch. Well, I was terribly terribly drunk at the time so I did. Then the next day I felt really bad about it and took it back (I’m sure there’s a pun there somewhere about karma, but I’m buggered if I can see it). Apparently they do that a lot too – just borrow it for the night. Though they don’t seem to have returned mine yet….
Bought new bikes the day after actually – Robin got a red one of course. However the only bike they had big enough for me was a second hand 21 gear Bridgestone mountain bike. Quite nice actually, and cheap too. So far neither has been nicked. We double lock see…..
However, all told, I don’t think this Japanese thing will be so bad – last night I found a foreign store that sells Banrock Station Shiraz, Shiraz Cabernet, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot by the box (OK, not the best wine but it is familiar, which is nice, and a box contains three bottles for 1200 yen, approx six pounds), Yellow Tail, Beaugeolais, and Chianti. Other delights included Guinness, Victoria Bitter, Heineken, Kalhua, pickles, olives, real rice (not the sticky Japanese type which tires easily), and stacks of other good stuff. Heinz Baked Beans were a scandalous 400 yen (two pounds) a tin. Am not that desperate yet, but it is nice to know they’re there. There was no Brains however so if anybody wants to take pity on a thirsty Welshman stuck in foreign climes…
We found an Ikea-esque store downtown called the 'Home Piasa' and have been there several times in the last week. So much so that the one English-speaking girl who works tries to hide whenever she sees us come in. Last night – cycling home from our latest excursion (extendable clothes pole, pillow, bin, curtains, another futon – to be delivered) – we passed through the main shopping thoroughfare of Toyama: it’s great, packed full of western-style boutiques with really weird names – Tomorrow Man Part II is a good one, as is The Big Muff. There’s also a local drink, much like the Pocari Sweat of my previous missive, called Calpis – pronounced of course by most JETs as cow-piss. Chocolate covered coffee beans (one of my London staples) here are called ‘Business Assist Chocolate.
T-shirts with Engrish slogans on them are quite the item here. Saw a girl wearing a t-shirt that said ‘Low Fat Milk vs Skim Milk’ – which is an important debate I think. Another said ‘Look At This Bitch.’ There’s a bit of a competition in the JET community for the wackiest shirt, so far "I am A Girl, Lets Enjoying Ourselves" is winning. The local department store, the Marier, has a campaign in called "Marier de Hunting", with some kanji (Japanese pictograms) thrown in. It translates as "Marier Hunting the Autumn," which is what you want your David Morgans to be doing really isn’t it?
Just saw a spectacle of surreal magnificence. As I was walking to school a xylophone started to blare form the car park of a nearby high tech firm – the building a sleeck bubble of plastic and glass. As this nursery-time plinky plonky continued a voice track came on and out of every previously unseen door came men, young and old, in answer to the music -- like the Eloi people from HG Wells' The Time Machine. It was soon obvious that this was part of that famous Japanese work culture where they might exercise or sing the company song or ritually cut themselves before the workday begins. This one seemed to be a variation of Tai-chi – only unlike the hundreds of Chinese I’ve seen doing it in Beijing parks this one was far more Tellytubby-esque with the music and the disembodied voice. They chatted and laughed to each other as they moved but I couldn’t keep from my head the scene from '1984' of Winston Smith in front of the telescreen doing the mandatory 'Physical Jerks' and being screamed at by the state-instructor: "6079 Smith W.! Yes, you! Bend lower, please! You can do better than that. You're not trying. Lower! That's better, comrade"
posted by Geoff at 1:08 AM
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