A short poem about gross bodily functions

You are so full of... talent that it makes my bowels want to vomit vowels and choke on consonants and, consequently, consonance. Mentally constipated, I constantly gag, trying to spit out the perfect words to say what's deep inside my throat: I love the piss out of you and I can't wait to come home.

Year of the Space Cowboy

Yep. Normally this would be about the time to evaluate this entire year and decide at all once if it was a successful one or not. Judging by all I have learned this year, I would say it has been a pretty good year. The fact that I can now say it in Japanese that this year has been a good one (今年はいいですね！) proves it.

When I moved here in February, it was after a year of soul searching. After failing to get the only spot available in the M.A. Directing program at the University of Texas, I wasn't sure where to go next. I was told, very politely, that my biggest downfall was my age (23 at the time) and that they sincerely hope, after I gain a little more worldly experience, that I would try again. I took the worldly experience thing to heart. Here I sit in Hamamatsu planning the next phase:

Tokyo 2010.

A big factor in my decision to come to Japan was to study, or at least observe, Kabuki, No, and Bunraku theatre. After seeing a kabuki version of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, directed by preeminent Japanese director Ninagawa Yukio, I knew I made a wise decision. It's been a few months since I've seen a show (the last was Sarah Kane's Blasted, performed by a Japanese company with a French director). That's the territory that comes with dating someone a few hours away. The days become counters for the next encounter. Until the clock stops cold. And you're standing there wondering what the hell to do with these batteries.

So, I've been redirecting that energy back where it belongs: travel and theatre. And there's no better way to celebrate the homecoming of my he(art) than to come home. During my two weeks, I will see the people who have kept me strong through the loneliness that comes with not being able to speak to even your neighbors because of the language barrier. And I will visit my Mecca for my very first pilgrimage. I will visit NYC for NYE.

I am truly amazed at how this year has unfolded. I've seen things I never imagined and I constantly make plans that once seemed impossible. I feel powerful and impotent at the same time.

Maybe it's a Gemini thing.

This weekend, I am staying in-bed to do some much needed reading. The Kite Runner, perhaps. Maybe some Shakespeare. He never fails to equally humble and inspire.

Oyasumi. Today will be a good day for you.
I am living in the future after all.

Best thing I've heard in an interview on television

Every time Rachel Maddow books a guest who clearly disagrees with her, and vice versa, it always makes for good television. What really fascinates me is how she readily uses her guest's past statements against them. She really does her research, and while I know she has staffers, I have read accounts that she works harder than anyone on her team. Yay perfectionism! That's how she became a Rhodes Scholar.

Anyway, I saw this tonight and I laughed so hard at her candidness I watched it three times in succession.

Rachel Maddow: "The idea that divorce makes you gay for example seems insane to me-"

Richard Cohen: "No no no no-"

Rachel: "You described it as a factor of homosexuality."

Richard: "You're taking it out of context, Rachel."

Rachel: "No. I'm reading from your book, dude."

Hahahahahaha. Dude!

The Once Wonderful Wizard

The Once Wonderful Wizard

Weary from their westward walking, our wanderers reach the Wizard
The Wonderful Wizard
The one who made the town emerald and the eyes green
The Wonderful Wizard
Who is larger than life
Whose compassion knows no bounds
The Wonderful Wizard
With several tongues
Wearing the story of life on his skin.

Weary from their walk, they wrestle with the Wizard.
The Wonderful Wizard
Who projects himself as strong and all-knowing
Who turns out to be a mere mortal after all.
The wall has fallen and the Wizard looks beyond
Wondering if he should seek his own rainbow.

Our wayward travelers continue west.

Weary from their walk, our wanderers realize
They never really needed the Wizard after all.
They'd walked so far on the saffron road together
Wondering how this would all come to end.

The straw woman wizened on her journey
She now knows she cannot stay in Oz.
The last we heard, she let the wind take her west.

The maple colored leo was searching for the antidote
The one to cure his pussycat ways.
This lion, once thought to be a coward,
Was right to turn tail and flee in the rain.

The metallic automaton was on a journey to find emotion.
The thing to make him fully human.
The Wizard chided him, called him scrap.
Told him to oil his own joints.
The tin woodsman cried back:

I am indeed a
clinking, clanking, clattering collection of caliginous junk.
And one day I'll take off this tin armour streaked with rust
And follow the gilded road home.
On that day you'll realize that I do have a heart and you
Wizard
have no magic.

And that girl
The infectiously chipper girl,
(And her little dog too)
was disappointed most of all.
But at the end of this journey, the long westward walk
She learned that what she was seeking
Was with her the whole time

She learned though she's not in Kansas
or Kansai
anymore, she is home.
So she stayed. And they smiled,
The girl and her armoured companion.

What about the Wizard
The once Wonderful Wizard
The once Wonderful Wizard is searching for blue birds.
And he, like our wayward wanderers, needs to follow this road through.
And we hope to see the Wizard soon.
And we hope the Wizard can tell us his stories.
And we hope the Wizard finds his magic too.

But he will never be the Wonderful Wizard again.

あのう、こちらは私の一番手紙です。

私は毎朝10時に起きます。朝ごはんは時々くだものと水です。ジオスではたらきます。あるいて会社行きます。会社は1時から10時までです。10時15分にうちへ帰ります。10時はんに晩ごはんを食べます。それからえいがを見ます。よる3時に寝ます。日曜日と月曜日ははたらきません。日曜日はどこにも行きません。休みます。月曜日は本を読んだりＤＳをしたりします。それから日本語を勉強します。

じゃまたね！javascript:void(0)

ベトナム （Vietnam)

Hisashiburi, blog.

It took an entire week to fully recover from our adventures in Thailand and Vietnam, but I am recharged and ready to recount. I have poured through tons of pictures to refresh my memory and now that I have a can of Asahi Super Dry by my side I am ready write.

Ho Chi Minh City was the first stop during my week-long vacation away from Japan. Along with brave friend Thomas (brave for considering spending an entire week with me and my Geminian mood swings), I settled in for a six hour flight to Saigon International Airport from Tokyo exactly two weeks ago. For some strange reason, perhaps the two warm beers I had on the plane, I was not feeling all that great coming off the plane. I have only dealt with jet-lag once in my life, but I know this feeling was not the same. It wasn’t lethargy, but as if I had an irritable stomach before even attempting to try Vietnamese or Thai food. Perhaps I could blame it on the airplane food.

Nevertheless, after we settled into our hotel, among several other Japanese tourists, we did a little exploring. Our first mission: find some coffee for Thomas. Thomas has an ongoing love affair with Starbucks, but unfortunately he committed a minor infidelity by patronizing Highlands Coffee (not to be confused with the wonderful coffee shop on LSU’s North Gates).


After enjoying quite possibly the smallest cup of coffee known to man, we continued on our pursuit of Vietnamese nightlife. We literally walked in circles, allowing our radius from the hotel to lengthen ever so slightly so as not to get completely lost. And consequently, our walk made it much easier the next day when we actually developed a game plan.

That night, while I soaked in the tub, Thomas found some great places for lunch and dinner. I mentioned that I wanted to go to the Reunification Palace and the Vietnam War Museum. With that basic plan, we went to sleep. The next morning however, the plan started slightly drifting off-course, in a good way. We stumbled upon a really cool post office, which happened to be across from the Notre Dame of HCMC, a decent copy of Paris’ famous tourist destination. We walked up and down one street in particular looking for our lunch spot before realizing it was closed. Not being able to read the Vietnamese sign, we decided to go next door, to a Bún restaurant. Bún is rice vermicelli, which are very thin, white noodles. Lunch was amazing and the café was quite picturesque, drawing inspiration from nature and the greenery that thrives in Southeast Asia.






We took quite a few handsome shots that really incorporated the ambiance before moving on to the Reunification Palace.


There’s not much to say about this building, except it is well-preserved, as if the 70s never ended. After we left, we headed immediately to the Vietnam War Museum (well, after getting more coffee for Thomas). Inside, we were expectedly bombarded with pictures of war atrocities. Of course the coalition against North Vietnamese Communists was terrible. But the museum does not take a unbiased tone, it goes a little too far in sensationalizing the event to draw sympathy from those of us who are limited in our capacity to understand the era. That may sound either complex or emotionless, but my parents were barely alive during the Vietnam War. It is somewhat an alien concept to me and I cannot force myself develop strong feelings about it. I can honestly say if I were alive then I would be a part of the protests, but I can also say that if I were alive then I would not nearly have the broad circle of international friends that I do now. Looking at these pictures started to make me cry at first. There are some quite brutal and graphic images. But, as if someone used a plunger on my head, my capacity to care drained like a leaky pipe. I went from mortified and embarrassed to be from America, to remembering that the Vietnam War was not started by Americans, nor was America the only country involved. I never thought I would get defensive about American involvement in the war, but it was hard to see how the museum did not seem to emphasize that the war was fought by two halves of one country. Then again, Communist countries are known for their propaganda, and why should this museum in this country be any different. And it was not just me and my American arrogance, but Thomas, who is Japanese, started to feel overwhelmed as well. It was a full-out assault with a deadly weapon- ambiguous truth.


And, well, since we only had two days to spend in Vietnam, that- as they say- is that. I did enjoy the trip, and the food was amazing, but to say I never planned on going to Vietnam and had no expectations is an understatement. However, not knowing what to expect and giving the country a chance was a wise decision because I got to witness something so different from Japan and America, something real and yet equally ethereal. Especially when someone is coming at you on a motorcycle and you are rightfully standing on the sidewalk. It was a good trip, and if I go back I hope to meet up with someone who can actually show me things off the tourist grid. That’s the kind of thing I felt missing from our trip.

And that’s Vietnam. Next time I will give you the stats on Bangkok and Phuket. Till then…

Peace out.xx



Oh yeah! Here is the link to all of the pictures we took in both Vietnam and Phuket. Enjoy.

Latex can save your life

Yesterday, I told one of my students that I got tested for STIs last week.
He laughed.

Soon realizing that I was not in on the joke he stopped immediately, asking "sexual diseases, ne [right]?" Yes, I intoned, almost challenging him to ask why. We were previously talking about his recent health checkup so contextually I shared my recent visit to a clinic. He commented that I look healthy, which I told him is a major reason why people unwittingly spread diseases- the assumption of being able to spot someone with a sexually transmitted infection. Someone who isn't "clean," as they have unfairly been called. And while I thank him for the compliment, I owe being healthy to being aware that every sexual experience I have is one more possibility for contracting an infection, or the worst disease of all- pregnancy.

Now that I can take advantage of Japan's socialized health care, I immediately began with a battery of tests. After two bus transfers, I made my way back to the public health clinic, Hamamatsu Hokenjo, to get the results of the blood tests I took last week. Silently, I prayed that the needles are more sterile than the building they are housed in. This building has all the charm of Earl K. Long Hospital in Baton Rouge, but none of the inefficiency. Within minutes of arriving, my number was called and I was led into the same room where I previously answered a few questions like:

"Do you have a reason to believe you have recently contracted HIV/AIDS?" (No)
"Have you ever been treated for Syphilis or Chlamydia before?" (No)
"Do you routinely share needles with other people" (Um... well, not since 'Nam)

In Japan, if you take an anonymous blood test it is not customary for the result to be handed to you on paper or given over the phone. You have to come in-person and give your initials. "Ohaiyo gozaimasu" I greeted the nurse and told her immediately that I cannot speak Japanese. She said "Daijoubu [it's okay], I speak little English" before continuing in Japanese. Like the statement "guilty until proven innocent," I apparently understood Japanese until I pulled a strange face. She spoke, and I listened carefully for her intonation. If something sounded serious or if she asked a question that I didn't understand, I raised an eyebrow. She then translated the last word of her sentence, "Blah blah blah... paper." But she was very kind and patient, so I do not intend to make light of her effort to help me understand the results. All I needed to hear anyway was negative.

Finally, after searching for my results, she pointed to negative for all four tests and instantly became my new best friend (well, my new best Japanese friend... not that there's much competition). She continued to talk and I continued to say "Hai" until she made small talk. She asked me the typical question: "When do you come to Japan" (which, as an English teacher, I usually correct but this was not the time) and, in Japanese, asked me if I either eat or like Japanese food. I don't know which one but the answer is yes for both, so I said so. I thanked her and made my way back home to sit in my STI-free skin and thank all those in my life who champion safety.

My student is a good representative of many people I know, in America and abroad: people who believe testing for STIs is relegated for sex workers and homosexuals (and, you know, bisexuals). It is unfortunate that this ignorance spreads, like, well...legs. Everyone who is sexually active should be aware of their status regarding STIs and it should be regarded as routine as an annual physical. I honestly went into the office confident that I would once again receive favorable results (I almost typed positive results, but that would be assuredly antithetical) but leaving always produces a little healthy anxiety.

The best part about waiting a week for your results is reevaluating the sexual transgressions of the past. But getting tested isn't about regrets and the fear of sex. The absolute best part of getting those results is looking forward to the sexual adventures of the future and knowing that you have more time to play the game.

So play on.

Podium

In 24 hours, I will officially join what is thought by many to be "socialized health care." I will walk into a Hamamatsu ward office and leave with an insurance card. This card means doctors would only charge me 30% for any health care I need outside of the meager insurance provided by my company (which I was told at the ward office is traveler's insurance). So when I go to the dentist, a much needed trip, I will be responsible for paying 30% of the procedure and any prescriptions. It's the first time since I've been a working American male that I've had my own health insurance, and it is a shame that I could not get a similar option in America.

The landmark study "Care Without Coverage: Too Little, Too Late," has been widely quoted in the midst of the health care debate in America. This 193-page report has been so important because it points out that 30 million (that's one in seven) working-age Americans cannot get insurance from their employer or are too young for Medicare; approximately 10 million children lack insurance altogether. The fact that 18,314 people die in the USA each year should be a sobering one for the country that outspends the rest of the world in health care but provides only a fraction of the population with adequate health care.

For many Americans, the idea of not having health insurance is unfathomable. Some people have been fortunate to not know what it is like to lack coverage. However, this American has never had his own health insurance plan and is now officially too old to be covered under his mother's health insurance. In America, I would be between a rock and a hard place should something happen to me. Even when I was partially covered under my mother's plan, I had to pay a considerable amount for health care. It was generally enough that I usually avoided hospitals and dentists. That avoidance could have prevented my health, particularly my teeth, from declining. I know several people who refuse to call an ambulance because the cost of having one come to pick you up, even in an emergency, is not covered in their insurance, if they are in fact covered at the time of illness. Personally, I had to open a credit card to pay for previous dental work that I am still trying to pay for two years later, because the interest rate is sky high. If I were in America working the exact same job, I would not currently have any options to consider about my health care.

I do not say this lightly: thankfully, I am not in America.

I am in Japan, a country with socialized health care insurance and the world's highest life-expectancy rate. To be clear, about 80% of Japanese hospitals are privately owned, so it is not "socialized medicine," as NPR clarifies in an April article on the health care situation of Japan. Japan has what many Americans are fighting for now, universal health care. Specifically, a Public Option. Simply put, I can opt for National Health Insurance. Japan requires health care for everyone, but I can choose from three different programs:

1) Shakai Kenkou Hoken (Company-Provided Insurance)- Your company will provide you with this insurance if you are currently working full-time. Your deductible will come directly out of your paycheck and is a certain percentage of your earnings and will cover up to 70% of your medical bills. (Now the kicker is that full-time means 30 hours a week, I am reportedly working 29.5 and not full-time which makes me ineligible for this option.)

2) Kokumin Kenkou Hoken (National Health Insurance)- Opting into this plan means the government pays 70% of your treatment, while you pay the other 30%. This is the plan most students, unemployed and self-employed people have. The government sends you a bill every month like an insurance company but the amount you pay is based on residence tax, dependents and property owned.(This is the option I will have to choose)

3) Private Health Care- like America, you can choose your own personal health care option which gives you the coverage that you prefer at the costs you prefer. This option, for those who can afford it, usually means full-coverage, or at least more than 70% (which honestly isn't bad to begin with!)

In fact, the only people really complaining about Japanese health care are physicians. Japanese health care has limits on how much doctors can charge for operations and procedures. This is standardized across the country. While in America one doctor can charge an arm and a leg for an X-ray, the cost of imaging is the same all over Japan, and relatively cheaper.

Japanese people live longer than Americans because of diet as well as preventive care. They see a doctor three times as much as Americans according to T.R. Reid with NPR. And they see any doctor they want. Of course no health care plan is perfect, but the fact that I have choices, "options open to the public" if you will.

See, the thing people seem to be confused about is that the Public Option that the President is seeking is no different at all from the one already in place here in Japan and other intelligent developed countries. England's universal health care program began in 1911, but really expanded into the modern form in 1946 after the blitz of World War II. And England has learned that it's program isn't perfect and is currently seeking ways to reform it to improve hospitals and wait times. But at least it has a system in place to insure everyone has access to care. And no one in Japan has to declare bankruptcy because of unexpected hospital bills. It is a kick in the face that once a doctor saves your life you don't have much to life for when the bills pile up. Having a Public Option means I can choose to have private insurance or choose the government to assist me when I need health care. Knowing the government has a safety net for me makes me feel like an actual human being.

Which makes me afraid to figure out what will I be if I have to go back to the states and lose any coverage.

I'll continue to post about my journey through the scary path that is socialized health care.

Ikuzo.

Gundamn!

I am a nerd in fashionable clothing.

I don't come right out and say it, but I used to be hooked on Japanese animation. Loved it. From Thundercats to Voltron, Sailor Moon to Rurouni Kenshin. I watched it all and pretty much loved it all, especially Gundam Wing. Well, Gundam (large fighter robots piloted by humans) have been around in Japan for 50 years, and to celebrate their longevity, Tokyo has decided to build the first life-size Gundam in Odaiba Park this year, for one month only. So, I really picked the best time to live in Japan.

Here are a few pics of the awesomeness that is a life-sized Gundam.

Tokyo ni ikimasu!

Greetings, ether.

I finally decided to put fate into my own hands and stop waiting for something incredible to happen. I decided that I am tired of not having anything exciting to write about, so I made a plan to spend the month of June, my birthmonth, doing the things that I really want to do.

Of course I still have the obligation of doing my job, but on the weekends, I will be watching loads of theatre- the biggest reason I came to Japan. This upcoming weekend, I will begin in the best way possible: my first trip to Tokyo.

I'll get there close to midnight after Saturday's work to meet up with my new friend and Tokyo tourguide. He's already got our tickets to see a kabuki rendition of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, directed by one of Japan's most famous current directors: Ninagawa-san. But that's on Monday. On Sunday, we will be shopping all over Shibuya, heading to Ginza, and maybe Roppongi so I can finally buy some boots. Japanese feet are typically smaller than American, so the sizes don't come anywhere near 13 (30cm) in most shops. But the gaijin (foreigner) district of Tokyo, Roppongi, may have something for me. I hope so, because Japanese boots are so fierce, they might as well be labeled WMDs.

Pictures and updates to come.
And I still have to tell you about South Korea.

I'm so bad at keeping this thing updated. What the hell happened to me?

South Korea, backtracking

I'm gonna come clean with you:
This is written in the future about a trip that I took at the end of April-beginning of May.

I went to South Korea and had a terrific time just connecting with people. I didn't want to explore, I just wanted to have something I had been missing dearly in Japan:

Normal conversations with old friends.

Surprisingly, I managed to spend a week with five people from Baton Rouge who now live in Asia (Korea and Japan). It was splendid. Here are some pics to get you through the hard times. Kidding.

Ode to being the nice guy

Everyone Else

And yet
And yet everyone else gets what they want.
I'll see to it
I'll see to it that everyone else gets what they want
I'll see to it, and yet
I cannot see what I want.

What is it that I want?

Maybe these five years back.
Five years is a long time
Five years is a long time to see that everyone else gets what they want and yet
I still cannot see the point
The point
The point where everything feels home

And everyone else feels like home

And yet I am writing from your bed, alone
You made your bed
You made your bed now I lie in it
And yet
And yet being home is the only time where things make sense
Because I can sense through blue eyes

This is the last sleepover because of everyone else

And yet I can see the paths ahead of me and everyone else
The paths are made of dust and clay that forms
Clay that forms from
The clay is made of vermilion dust, two parts dust one part tears
Tears from blue eyes
Not shed over you

Not over you yet (not over you, yet)

A record to chant, a mantra on repeat
These tears are not shed over your skin
I can shed your skin
And yet
And yet the red dust is comprised of human skin
So dust is a reminder of everyone else

And yet everyone else gets what they want, and with green eyes I'll see to it that everyone else

Absence

Apologies on the lengthy absence. I'll make it up with a lengthy account covering the many things floating in my head that need a landing pad and pen.

Unfortunately, my lack of writing is not due to leading an exciting, adventurous life. Actually, it is because I really have not accomplished much. I spend almost ten hours a day at work and when I come home around 10:30, all I want to do is eat, catch up on facebook, and study Japanese.

I seriously study about 2-3 hours every night and while I can start to see some improvements, like my reading speed is picking up, I am still so far behind where I would like to be. But, I am more determined than frustrated. I mean, look at how many years of French I took in school, including college, and I probably have the same mastery of the language as a French middle-school student. So if my Nintendo DS Japanese Coach says I am a Japanese First Grader, well then I'll accept it as a sign of improvement. At least I can ask where is the restroom without needing help.

Toire wa doko desu ka.

Anyway, Japanese people always ask me "How is Hamamatsu life" or "How is Japan life." It is an interesting question for two reasons: first, the proper way to translate that question into colloquial English is "How do you like living in Hamamatsu/Japan?" but I think it is fascinating because my mind starts to dissect how I think people in Hamamatsu/Japan live in comparison to American life.

Last night I invited Keiji, one of my students, over for drinks. After a few beers, wine and sake, we (including his friend) were discussing societal differences. Many of these I've thought about on my own, but it is completely different to hear Japanese men discuss these. For example, we talked about how Americans are free to discuss their opinions in class. Of course having the correct answer is important, but so is being able to formulate an answer through your own mental processes, of your own volition.

Japanese students are forced to just memorize through rote learning. Unless you know the correct answer, you do not speak. It is frustrating as a teacher of the conversational use of English to have students who will not speak. But I do my best to not only remind them that there is no penalty for the wrong answer but better: a reward in the form of mastery. The only way we can really learn a language is to try speaking it. Really. We learn through trial and error and my students who show the best improvement are the ones who volunteer first and who suffer through my polite corrections. And class is better because of their courageous offerings.

In my opinion, I think a system that combines both is what's really needed. Of course Americans are free to discuss opinions in class, but the majority of 20 somethings in America cannot accurately find Afghanistan on a map, even though they may have a strong opinion on whether troops should be sent there or not. Also Americans are infamously the loudest tourists in the world, because we are encouraged to be expressive. I do think there are times when it is vital to speak out. I also think there is a time to shut the hell up. And this is where Japan and America should educate each other.

I am slowly becoming a better teacher, definitely a more patient person, and because I am learning Japanese while my students are improving their English I always remind them how proud I am of their work. Because when they say their English I poor, I show them how bad my Japanese is. This proves to them that they really are not as atrocious as they think!

Last night, Keiji's friend commented on my hospitality. As they emptied their glasses I always made sure there was another full one waiting and I kept them entertained. He joked in Japanese, only to translate it later, that I am more Japanese than American. What a compliment. But I am very glad that I was born in such a country that allows me to explore my own personality and desires (with limitations that vary from city to city of course).

I didn't learn how to be a good host in Japan. It's something that I worked on in America; something that Louisiana in particular encouraged. And while I never want to move back to Louisiana, I am proud to be able to share the sense of southern hospitality- the finer points of my heritage that one can glean from such a closed-minded place.

On the 29th, I am taking my first trip away from Japan. It funny that I've lived here for three months, yet I will have explored South Korea more extensively than my own country. But once I get a firm grasp on my job, I will start to venture out to Tokyo, and to the lands past my favorite city, Nagoya, including Osaka, Kyoto, Kobe, and the like. Maybe I'll go up to Hokkaido, have a Sapporo in Sapporo. Or travel to Okinawa and eat Spam. I hear they do marvelous things with canned ham-like products there. But during my week-long vacation I am going to do just that: vacate.

I promise the cornucopia of pictures will overwhelm and you will welcome another lengthy absence. And when I come back, I am finally going to mail all of the wonderful things I've collected for my dear family and friends. Because you deserve to know how much I actually think about you even though we're miles apart.

What-ta-to do to die today?

11:31 pm, according to Japanese clocks. As Americans start their grind, my gears are starting to ache and beg for oil. Having sated them with oil , this machine is now freezing in a tiny, Western-style apartment. While the organs are metallic and rusting and shutting down and the logic is beginning to break down into chaos , the heart is strangely different… it bleeds.

Hands
If you know me well, you do not need to be reminded of my ridiculous avoidance of asking people for things. There are more fingers on my hands than people I can call and ask for a favor. It is hard for me to call people when I am in their vicinity because I don’t want to disrupt their day or interrupt the wonderful and interesting lives I imagine everyone else to lead. Even worse, those seven people (approx) soon become overburdened by my requests and three months later I have overstayed my welcome.

The problem is, obviously I am fully aware of this, is that I do not give them a chance to make the choice, the chance to say no. I would rather not ask than to hear no. My life has been shaped by avoiding the questions I need to ask. People think moving to Japan is brave. I think asking someone out on a date is brave. By someone, I do not mean a random stranger in a bar, but someone who you can feel will change your life forever if you just jump off that bridge of hesitation.

See, you only see a child who was denied a fishing trip, but I see a man in the glass that no longer uses ink to schedule appointments. It saves me from dealing with disappointments and buying White-Out… and I honestly think I’ll be okay if I never learn how to gut a fish.

A Thousand Tiny Little Explosions of Death in My Mouth: My Memoir

Greetings family, friends, and fans alike.

It's been far too long and I can explain. Like the over-used phrase I keep hearing in American news, my work honeymoon is officially over. I am getting e-mails every day from Head Office about all of the responsibilities I have to fulfill that I didn't quite know about or fully understand. I do not have a problem whatsoever including these duties into my routine, because I accept it's all part of the job. However, if you know me well, you know I get frustrated when I do not have control over my time or when I don't know something that everyone else does. I never want to be the last horse to cross the finish line, you know. That means I've been bringing work home with me, staying up until 4 or 5 trying to make sense of everything only to get more work to do the next day. Everyone assures me that this is normal and I will eventually learn to juggle everything. But I want to be able to do it all now. Don't worry, peanuts, chocolate and beer have been keeping me composed.

Anyway, while I am loving my time here- which has been a month for those of us counting- I am slowly composing a list of things I hate and at the top are: shaving every day (my face and my neck especially are not coping well either) and this sushi roll I had today that was basically a ton of large orange fish eggs. I've had a few of the eggs before atop other rolls and didn't mind the taste, but I never had so many as I had in this one piece for lunch. The look of revulsion on my face almost scared my friend and fellow teacher Sarah, who thought I was physically hurt. The best way I could describe what I felt was having "a thousand tiny little explosions of death in my mouth." I decided if I write a book someday, that would be a possible title.

I am working on my travel plans, since next month, starting April 28, I will have an entire week to travel. I haven't decided yet on the specifics, but I am pretty sure I'll be working Korea into that week. I really want to go to Angkor Wat in Cambodia, where ils parlent français et anglais aussi, or India. China can wait. Australia and New Zealand need to happen at some point as well, though I think that will have to wait for Kristin's visit in November so we can both visit Mr. Monk in NZ. And I still have to plan my first trip to Toyko! I am very excited about shopping in Shinjuku and Harajuku. Maybe the clothes there will fit me!

Things are good, though. Nothing cool and cultural to report as of yet. Once I start doing more than teaching, I promise the updates will happen more regularly. For now, just note that Japan is pretty much everything I expected it to be, which is fantastic.

Except the fruit. Can someone please tell me who would pay the equivalent of $50 for a honeydew melon? Yes: Honeydew = $50!


4,980 JPY = 50.60 USD as of 3/6/2009


Peace out.
Sayonara.

Love in the Windy City

Hello everyone, time for my weekly update.

This concludes my first week teaching without the (constant) assistance of my substitute teacher, Kashima, who I miss and needs to add me on facebook yesterday. However, she did leave a trail of post-it notes that have saved me on many occasions. She is great.

And in her place, I have Sarah and Ai keeping me sane and on top of things. They are flipping awesome people and I cannot thank them enough.

So at the end of last week, I was pretty frustrated because I felt as if I was dangling over a fire that no one told me would be hot. And like that woman who sued McDonald's for her coffee being hot, I should've known that teaching would not be easy the first week. Hell, I could barely remember names the first week, let alone lesson plans. But at some point on Thursday, it started to click. I stopped trying to follow the prescribed teaching manuals and started using my own ingenuity. And this week, teaching was actually starting to become fun. So today, although it was a long day, was punctuated with some great moments.

For Valentine's Day, I decided to buy candy for all of my students, the other teachers, and the manager. After wrapping it all up last night, I went to school holding a bag full of goods for the wolves. My first student, I was warned, was a terror. I was prepared for the worst.

During the lesson I noticed he drew on everything I gave him. If 1+1=2, don't give him something I didn't want him to draw on. Right? Instead of giving him the cards with the pictures on them, I let him draw the animals we studied today on the board. And he actually is quite the little artist. So now I know what to do to keep him on my side. The class after that was with one of my favourite students, Hiroe. Today we talked about heroes. Not the show mind you, but personal heroes and heroines, not the drugs mind you. She told me about her husband and I talked about my parents and we had fun getting to know each other even better. Last night I found out another student is engaged, so all of the grammar we studied related to weddings. The more I get to know them, the better I can tailor the lessons I plan to keep them wanting to come to class.

At 4, I had a lesson I wasn't quite prepared for, so I ran to the dollar store (100 yen store) and bought paint pens and construction paper and we made stuffed Valentine's hearts to give to their parents as a warm-up activity. I did this activity with my other under 18 year old students and we all had fun, before we moved on to the lesson of course. I ended up making about 4 hearts by the end of the night, two I have posted as pictures if you are interested.

So that was my VDay. What did you do?


Finally, I have to admit something: I have a small obsession with Japanese toilets. I know that sounds silly, but they fascinate me. The one in my apartment makes me smile every time I flush the toilet and the lid in the toilet becomes a sink. So cool!



But the one I was warned about I call the squatter. I've attached a picture so you can see what all the fuss is about. Now in this particular restroom there are standard toilets (with electronically-controlled bidets), but this one in the corner makes me fearful for that one day I have no choice but to "pop a squat" to quote my 6th grade teacher Angela Thomas.



Sayonara.

Wendell

Stuff about stuff, and stuff like that.

Ohayo gozaimasu.

This is day three of my contract here in Japan and the day could not be any prettier. I am in Hamamatsu, finally, after concluding a two-day training session in Nagoya, about 40 minutes north by shinkansen. Shinkansen is the fastest line of railroad networks in the world. The trains are called nozomi, but you’ve probably heard of them as “bullet trains.” I really wanted to take pictures from the train, but I wasn’t in the mood to be touristy.

Okay, let me recap my first few days in Japan. While it still hasn’t hit me in a profound way, I am consciously aware that I am in Japan, and that I really am taller than 80% of the population. In Nagoya, it wasn’t such a big deal for an American and an Englishman (my trainer Bruce) to walk around speaking English. But last night I finally moved to my apartment in Hamamatsu, and the kids were not shy about staring at us. It must have been a strange sight to see three Americans, two of them black, and a Scotsman pushing a shopping cart to the train station (long story) but it was cool feeling like a local celebrity. Hamamatsu has nothing on Nagoya when it comes to size. Nagoya is a huge city, fourth largest in Japan I believe, and the architecture is ridiculous. I will get more pictures later when I go back up to see a Kabuki performance so stay tuned. However, the downtown part of Hamamatsu, which is a few minutes away from my school by bus or train, is also very pleasing to the eye. Again, this will have to be a verbal post as I just moved here late last night.

Japan is the most efficient country in the world. This may not be a complete fact, but from what I’ve seen I am very impressed. First of all, many things in the public sector (malls, hotels, grocery stores) are done by motion detection sensors. Why is this ecologically sound? Think about how much air is wasted by doors being left open; how much water we waste flushing toilets and leaving water in the sink running. I posted one picture of a Japanese sink with the soap dispenser, the water, and the hand dryer all in the bowl of the sink. The toilet in my bathroom, well toilet-room since it is separate, has a small sink on the lid of the toilet. When I flush, water flows from the sink, to let me wash my hands, to the toilet bowl and it fills up for the next use. That combines two functions into one saving so many liters of water. Not to mention, there’s a little air freshener that is activated by the running water. You cannot get any more efficient than that.

One question/comment I get a lot is about my weight management and diet. While I have run across one very disgusting dinner, from a vending machine mind you, almost everything I’ve eaten here was delightful. For example, I had what is called Okonomiyaki. The literal translation of this dish is “cook whatever you like.” Basically, it is a batter made up of Japanese yams, cabbage, flour, water, and whatever regional ingredients. You pick your filling (I chose ika, which is squid for those you who don’t get the ika fries from Tsunami) and it is fried right in front of you. It is best described as an omelet, but not by appearance. It was astounding.

Things I don’t like: I don’t like having to pay bills back in America, specifically my phone bill. I cannot use the damn thing at all, except as a $55 a month alarm clock. Ay. However, I am in love with my new apartment. There is so much opportunity to turn this place into “the” hangout. I have a small loft which is so much more spacious than I thought. It will house a hookah lounge, if you will. Of course most of this won’t happen until my first paycheck, but it will be flipping sweet. My first visitor just dropped by. It was a courier bringing a new set of sheets and futons (of which I already had, which further means I now have a guest bed!). I have found out easily why people can live here for years not knowing Japanese. Conversations here are short, choppy, and while the Japanese are number one in customer service, they are quick to the point. He asked me if I was Uwenderu (which is the closest way to pronounce my name here) in Japanese and pointed to where I needed to sign, said arigato gozaimasu and rode off. No conversation necessary.

Today will be my first day of teaching. Kashima, from the Bronx, has been teaching my lessons in my absence. I will start working with her to begin teaching my new students. My work day is really light today, only three classes I believe. I am pretty excited to get started. I also met Sarah, another American from Massachusetts, and Mike the Scotsman last night who are both pretty cool. I am glad that I get on so well with the teachers in my school, and I cannot wait to meet the last teacher, Ai, the Japanese native English teacher. After February, it’ll just be Sarah and Ai and I think we will have a wonderful time together. That was a funny sentence to real aloud because Ai’s name is pronounced “Ay.”

Anyway, I need to take a nice long soak in my small, but deep bathtub. I am trying to fight some congestion that I first felt on the plane. I love you all and I want to hear how you are doing. Hit me up by e-mail or on Skype.