From the Eastern Edge

a month and four days in

2012-02-04T12:01:00.001+09:00

Well, now it's February. I've already written about 2011, the Year That Never Was, or the Year that I Forget.. but I just read over a few other blogs and their retro/pro-spectives and I am reminded again.

The other day, I began sorting the papers, the junk I've been saving. I decided if something was from 2010 or 2009, I should throw it away. So I happily progressed through all the bills I had stashed in a desk drawer since I arrived, saving only the 'new' ones, or the papers from startup I might need at shutdown.

Re-appointment papers appeared on my desk one day while I was in class. In that class, we did a comparative/superlative multiple-choice group quiz (think of it like pub quiz night... these kids had little chance of actually knowing the answers to the questions I concocted) in which, while reading out the extra info about the Burj Khalifa (tallest building in the world), I said it was opened in January 2010, so that's just one year ago!

Um, what? So not only is it confirmed I cannot count, it's also apparent that I do in practice forget 2011, sometimes. Or, I feel like it must still be 2011, because already I feel like I've got more documentable "accomplisments" under my belt (as of NOW, February 4th!) than I did in all of 2011.

On the 2nd of February, I took my 1-kyu test for Shorinji Kempo, which is the highest rank I've ever been in any martial art. I'm not particularly coordinated, and and actually not very 'good' at martial arts. I do kind of like them, and I don't mind the repetitive practice. I lack technical skill, especially in a heated or otherwise important moment (so like, tests, tournaments, etc.) and end up more often flailing around performing something that would, let's face it, on the street probably work out okay in defending me, but under the watchful gaze of judges just looks like a baby deer kicking with sharp hooves. In some ways it makes me feel like I prefer the Yoshikai style of all-day testing. Where all you really have to do is outlast the day to show what you're made of, and that your technical skill has already been observed in repeated practice.

Still and all, it's something to be a first-kyu. That's right below black belt. We're still hoping to get me a black belt before I leave here this summer.

As mentioned, I also got my TEFL certification, which may not be small beans in the future. Right now it seems to make little difference in the fact that I have a job, or what I'm asked to do.. but it has changed a bit how I go about planning lessons or what I think should be happening.

But both the TEFL thing and the 1st kyu aren't just results of 2012, they're fruits grown in 2011 that happen to have just been harvested here in 2012. Comparably, I've started giving the push-and-go treatment I'm calling "FebNoWriMo" (because the weather in November and the schedule then are just not conducive to novel writing, here, and February is actually the shittiest month, weather-wise). I am also writing an unrelated 750 words a day to "clear out my mental junk" (at 750words.com, if you are interested). Even the novel I'm trying to write is not a spontaneous generation, fully formed, from this head-of-Zeus, it's a set of ideas that's been on slow cook and the backburner for years and years.

Also, in 2012, I went on a date. And this isn't like big news, and I don't see this thing 'going anywhere,' but it's kind of nice that a guy had the stones to declare his interest and invite me out to dinner and a movie. I don't really have "love and relationships" goals for 2012 (well, except for one secret one), but I think maybe I should, and if I did, maybe having a date would fall under the heading of "progress." (See: 2011 - A Year Without Climax) But even this has roots in 2011.. I wasn't ASKED on this date in 2012, I went on it then. I was asked before the winter trips.

Neighbor and fellow ALT encourages my dating life. But I wonder if her heart is really in it...

I also got wireless (which I might sell just as quickly to my neighbor) in the apartment, bought a mini-PC, had Kameron configure it, and then got it on the school network with the help of Mikan-sensei. I've been introduced to a couple places in town I had never known existed, one of which has the cutest coffee-shop atmosphere I've seen yet.

Sam is good at finding places. Remind me to take you here when you visit!

I've also been reading at a rapid rate. It began with my two winter-trip six-hour plane rides (for which I failed to pack or book video entertainment and therefore plowed through novels instead), and carried through to now. The winter cold helps. All I want to do is read books. On kindle, on kindle-fire, in paperback off the inherited shelf...

Anyway, it's about time for me to do important things like eat, do laundry, and possibly attempt to tidy up that other room. Oh and the writing, 1750 words at least.

New Year's and The Next Beginning

2012-02-01T12:25:00.002+09:00

In case you aren’t aware, New Year’s is one of the biggestletdown holidays there is. It’s always bigger, shinier, and more awesome inyour mind than it ends up being in real life. Even “I spent New Year’s insuch-and-such place!” is often cooler in stating than in actual experience. Forexample, I’ve had New Year’s in Tokyo, and in Las Vegas. In Tokyo, we stoodshivering in the grounds of a temple, waiting to hear the bell toll, whileTV-host type people went on as if they were a variety show (but that wholething was, I think, a cultural experience). In Vegas, we went out into thestreet for the countdown to midnight, or as far into the street as we could getwith the way the crowd was pushing us back; couldn’t really see the sky forfireworks, then immediately went back inside to continue gambling (I’m notsaying this wasn’t a fun trip, I’m just saying gambling is something you can doin Vegas anytime). At least in my case, the images of me partying intotrancelike states that the phrases “New Year’s in [insert big city here]”conjures are mostly on the false.

As for this year, I figured since we’d got up at 4 (again),we weren’t likely to last long into the night, and maybe we could see the firstsunrise or something from either some other hill of Angkor’s area, or even fromthe roof of our building. Yut said that pub street would be full of people, butI pictured a seething mass of American/Australian/European holidaymakersgetting wasted and screaming in my ear and I figured it was safe not to expecta big/fun night out for us in Siem Reap. We got Mexican food for dinner, thenmoseyed over to take a look.

This captures the general feeling well! With Nohea and Brian.

And Yut and Simon

And, happily, as often happens, having low expectationsturned out to be a blessing. There was dancing in the streets. Foreigners, yes,but Khmai too, and none so drunk as to be obnoxious, and minus all thathorrific toxicity of smoke that fills the air in dance clubs, but music fit fordancing. Yut stayed with us, and some of his friends coalesced out of the crowdand we all danced together behind the speakers until almost 12, when we went infront of the speakers. Shortly after midnight, we progressed in sleepy stumbleback to the hotel. A few of our group went on their own sojourns, but of courseI like to sleep, so I turned in pretty much immediately.

And then, it was 2012.The next morning, we had hotelbreakfast, and rolled out a bit later than usual to travel to Kbal Spien, whichis home to the “Valley of a Thousand Lingas.” A linga is a pillar (or phallicsymbol) associated with the Hindu god Shiva. “But wait,” I hear, “I thought allthis temple stuff was Buddhist, not Hindu!” Goodcatch, dear reader, and you are correct! But a lot of Cambodian stories andimagery tend to combine Hindu and Buddhist ideas and images together. A goodexample is that Buddha-protected-by-Naga thing we saw a lot (lot) of. Naga is not a Buddhist image,originally, but was adapted so that one tradition blended with and served theother.

Anyway, Kbal Spien is one of the oldest sites in the area,and the carvings show Vishnu and other Hindu imagery all over the place. Thereis also a medium-small sized waterfall… bigger, we were told, in the rainyseason (of course).

Lingas!

People were playing in it when we arrived, and Yut asked ifany of us wanted to go in. I was hot and sticky from the day’s walk, but wasn’tsure how it would be possible to go in, what with my clothes, my shoes, mycamera. Still, if I was going to be damp, it might as well be from the riverrather than from sweat. Nohea said he wanted to go in, but not alone, so Ihanded all my stuff to the others, took off my shoes and overshirt, and walkedright in. The rocks under the fall were slippery-smooth and made for good watersliding. The fall itself was chill and refreshing. Of course I loved the ideaof getting water poured over me in a river sacred since ancient times. This wasanother of my little magic moments, playing in the waterfall like a new year’scleansing.

Waterfall as seen from above

I have an image in my mind of standing under a waterfall in SoutheastAsia and seeing your path laid out before you, knowing what you want to do orbecome. This image is borrowed from someone else’s story, who years ago stoodunder a waterfall in Thailand and knew what he wanted to do with his life. ButI saw nothing, knew nothing new, justthat I will continue to pursue adventure and learning, and that I will neverstay long in something I do not love, and I was very happy with that; it wasenough. It also seemed a little related to a September dip in the crystal greenwaters in the Musasabi Canyon in Shikoku once before.

After this, we walked back down the path, stopping at alittle sitting area for our Way of the Day with Yut. He told us about RightLivelihood and Right Effort while Nohea and I dripped on the wooden boards; someKorean ladies gave us candies. We trooped back to the van for lunch, where Idrank yet more coconut goodness, and we shared yet another round of amazing anddelicious food (you might think this would get old, but it never did) in anairy restaurant.

display pieces

Next up was the Landmine Museum, where we learned about theefforts of Aki Ra to find, uncover, and defuse mines, and also the home forinjured children adjacent to the museum that he started up. As with a lot ofwhat I saw in Cambodia, it was shocking and intense, but also.. not just aparty of pity and blame. I was interested in his unorthodox way of dealing withmines (he preferred to use just a stick and his hands to find and take apartthe dangerous items)… methods that got other people killed. Aki Ra (not hisoriginal name) was a child soldier years ago, and grew up using weapons, evensetting mines. Now he continues to search for and clean up such things. Wedidn’t meet any of the kids who live at the museum, which is good, because theydon’t need to be gawked at like display pieces.

The waiting area for you to wait on the slowest party member.. whosoever that may be.

We went back to Siem Reap, hit the bookstore, and hung outuntil dinner at our clubhouse, where Yut talked with us some more about themore recent history of Cambodia. Brian re-joined us for a post-dinner drinksomewhere on pub street with thumping music next door (I had yet anothercoconut drink.. yesss) before we retired to bed.

The next day had no particular plans other than to geteveryone on their ways after breakfast. Yut took us to the market and we hadbreakfast at the crowded counters. Myand Kam’s flight to Laos was midday, and we were on the first round of peopletaken to the airport. We spent the morning writing in one another’s warm andfuzzy books (little notebooks given to use by PEPY at the start of the trip, inwhich we were to write messages to one another but not read our own til we hadgone) and packing up, reminiscing and sharing stories.

And then we were at the airport! Kameron, Miriam (who wasn’tyet sure if she was flying to Laos or heading back to Japan via Korea), and I,all fairly tired, maybe feeling like we were now carrying something ratherimportant even if we weren’t sure yet what it was, or how to share it.

In several of my postcards, I said that Cambodia is fartheraway than any place I have ever been, and I still think so.. at least about thecountryside village; not spatially, necessarily, but in many other ways, it isa place wholly different from where I am from, and even where I live now. Japanand America have a lot in common, actually, and while the differences areimportant, and are part of the adventure of being here, those commonalities arealso comforting.

And although I am aware that there is a great deal taken forgranted, in my life, and in the spaces around me, I had never before been to aplace where the electricity only runs some of the time, where there is norunning water, where objects are reused and repurposed not because their ownersare deep believers in the eco movement, but because those are the objects they have, and these are the ways they wantor need to use them. People don’t just use things up and throw them away out inthe countryside because they can’t affordto, and because a thing isn’t really used up if it can be repaired orreassigned. And that aspect of it, at least, I don’t think is a bad thing.

The downside of subsistence farming is the way that, in badyears (like this one is shaping up to be), there is not a lot of wiggle room,not a lot of margin for error. If the crops fail, by fire or flood, then youare in danger. Outside of that (very real) danger, a lot of people seemeddecently happy.

And I’m not trying to say they were happier, with theirsimple lives (to simplify the situation) than “we” are with our flushingtoilets and 24-hour electricity. Just that they weren’t significantly unhappierbecause of a lack of those things. Their way of life is different than the oneI’m from, but it isn’t any better or any worse. Except maybe that one bad yearof floods puts their survival at risk, while the pace of consumption in mineputs our entire system at later risk.

But even just personally, going to a place like Cambodiamakes you see, irrevocably, how silly 99% of your stresses are, how unnecessarythey are, and it does this not by judging you, or by revealing those stressorto anyone, but just by being so full of people whose hopes and whose problemsare so different from yours. And notbecause it’s all a pity party, or because “they have real problems and youdon’t” – I think that would have just depressed me.. it’s that they are working on shit.

There are much bigger fish to fry, and methods are beingdeveloped on how to catch and cook them. And whether or not you are part ofthat, you have to respect it. And whether or not you can do anything for them, you can do something for someone. Especially you.

Especially something like, stop tormenting yourself andchasing yourself in circles.

It wasn’t “they have real problems so I should feel sorryfor them.” It was.. if they can be grateful for what they do have, then Icertainly can too. Lately, I’ve been reading a lot, from all kinds of genres,and between Guns, Germs, and Steel,and The Hunger Games, and coming backfrom Cambodia, it occurred to me again the other day that I’ve never reallybeen hungry.

In my world that’s something you more or less take forgranted because that’s how it’s always been. But that’s not everyone’s world.

And in the same way that the shocking devastation wrought bya tsunami on hundreds of thousands of strangers moves me to silence and tears,but the violent death of one single person thatI knew brings me a different kind of mourning because it’s real in a waythat numbers and even TV images are not.. the fact that some people in theworld are or have been really hungry is much easier for me to grasp when it’ssomeone I know, and especially respect. Because of war, my grandmother washungry. Because of hunger, she never wasted food (it’s a habit we inherit).Because of poverty, people are hungry; when he was a kid, it was Yut.

And for me, who has always had enough and more than enough,for me from a culture where thin is in because we’ve outdone ourselves on ‘foodproduction,’ and are in danger of too much intake with not enough movement, foramazingly blessed, lucky beyond all reason me,well… one can feel only gratitude, which diminishes the other stuff to nothing, just as shadows are so naturally decimated by sunlight.

It isn't something permanent. It's not like I went to Cambodia and was 'cured' of taking things for granted, being selfish, focusing too narrowly, making irrational demands on comfort... but it was a little bit of clarity that I will try to remember as I go forward.

Angkor Who?

2012-01-25T21:56:00.000+09:00

Angkor Wat is the most well known landmark in Cambodia, and also the biggest draw for foreign tourism. I had the following conversation at least eight times:

Japanese coworker: Emily, are you going back to America for New Year's?
Me: No.. I'm, um, going to Cambodia instead.
Japanese coworker: Cambodia?! Whatever for?
Me: Um.. well, Angkor Wat..?
Japanese coworker: Ah, of course! Angkor Wat, how cool.

It was a little different with the people who had seen my poster/whom I had begged for money for our required PEPY donation. So you're going down there to volunteer? Well, not exactly... But it seemed too complicated to explain in that mid-hallway standing situation that voluntourism is lately coming under criticism and there are other ways to help. That patching a school's roof or repainting it in a weekend between touring Angkor Wat and getting cheap massages is not the most effective aid to education in a developing place.

But I digress. All I mean is, "Angkor Wat" were the two words (Angkor means city, and Wat means temple) that launched my mysterious winter vacation trip out of the realm of ridiculous/altruistic and into the more comfortable vein of tourism. Add in the fact that I majored in classics, love ancient things, and spent one of my best semesters in college exploring ancient (often temple) ruins in Roma, and we've got ourselves a deal.

Sunrise was sort of a group decision, not something I would have come up with on my own, but which is apparently a familiar notion to locals. At Aqua (the bar) the night before, when we said "we've got an early morning," we were met with knowing nods and "sunrise at Angkor Wat eh?" Which was only frustrating because we kind of thought we were special.

So much for that

But once again, we were up in the dark, this time whisked through the early morning chill by tuk-tuk to the ruins site, where Yut lit our path with a little flashlight and helped us find a great spot to wait on the steps of the ancient 'library.'

On the library steps

So here's Angkor Wat as revealed by the sunrise. It actually was kind of cool, since we'd never seen it before, to have it slowly emerge out of the pitch dark.

Break for jumping picture (we kind of look like the towers, here)

Back to reflection pool

And then some more jumping.

The library roof.

After the sun was well and truly up over the temple, Yut took us to get breakfast, and then we set off for Angkor Thom, the bridge to which is lined on one side with gods and the other with demons. Both teams hold one long Naga serpent.

Gods at left, demons to the right

Next was Bayon (which is within the walls of Angkor Thom, if I understand properly), the smiling faces temple, where Yut pointed out various features and then let us explore the area and climb on things. We got to touch noses with the ancient kings. The four faces each pointing in a different direction is symbolic of four qualities a king should possess to be a good monarch.

Eskimo kisses with kings

Baphuon was next, also in Angkor Thom; we climbed up that too. I think that might have been where the king had to go be with a goddess in the form of a serpent. Yut taught us a lot of things, but I can't remember many of them now. It was a little frustrating to be on sites that felt so historical and meaningful and to not be already steeped in knowledge of what their significance was (to contrast with my exploration of ruins on the Centro program, even if I didn't know about a place, I had a much better grasp on the context, and if you said when it was built or used, or by whom, or for what, I could easily get my head around it and therefore retain it). But I tried (and to some surprise, succeeded) to just not worry about that and simply enjoy the day!

On top of Baphuon with the friends I made by saying one word of Japanese

After this, we took a break for some coconuts (which will cure what ails you, perhaps even broken hearts, should you drink enough of them), then moved on to Ta Prohm. This one is particularly famous nowadays for being the location of some of the Tomb Raider movie footage. It also has some seriously gnarly cheese trees eating up the old stones.

Group photo by the Tomb Raider door

One thing I DO remember is this guy:

Yut said he is Time, the Destroyer, and they put him over doorways because nothing will escape his jaws. Not even the stones, apparently, escape time's destruction.

After Ta Prohm, we stopped for lunch, and played silly word games, and passed stories around. Yut even shared a thing or two about his childhood and family. It's at this point that I'd like to say something about Yut, because he spent six days with us, and his guidance and presence (well, on top of a bangarang itineraty put together by the PEPY team) is what made our trip what it was, and after speaking with a few others who spent a day or two or four in Cambodia and who were, by the end, just so ready to get the hell out once they were done, I know that the.. something else about this trip, the important thing that I keep thinking I somehow (by writing about all the things of all the days we were there) will be able to express through a blog, that had a lot to do with Yut as well.

I like to catch people off guard with my camera.

Maybe because you filter a little of what you take in through those with whom you surround yourself, and maybe because that happens even more markedly in a foreign place, where you don't know much, where you are uncertain. Our group loved Yut (we kept talking about him in Laos once we left), and I think we were special to him too. As a professionally licensed guide (he even had to wear a special uniform on days we went into the Angkor temple areas), he is of course knowledgeable in the details of historical import. But that something else isn't from that.

I'm a pretty skeptical and defensive traveler. Whenever someone tries to sell me something, my initial response is always, no, why would I need that. I don't want to hire someone to do what I can probably do myself with a good informative book and lots of research time. I don't like being sold things. And I'm not a very good salesperson. What I'm trying to say is, I don't hope to convince you of anything, I'm just telling you the things of which I've become convinced.

He managed to make us feel more like he was sharing Cambodia with us than anything else. He was the guide, yes, but he also asked questions, and shared his enthusiasm and curiosity. Yut has spent ten years (that's one-third of his life) as a Buddhist monk, studying in temples, so when he shared the "Way of the Day" (we learned about one or two of Buddhism's Eight Ways each day), it was always from a very genuine place. He was always friendly, not only to us, but to anyone and everyone we passed. He speaks English fluently, and of course Khmer (Khmai), but somehow knows not only how to say hello in a ton of other languages, but also when to use them (that is, he can tell if a tourist is German, French, Japanese, etc.). While we were looking at carvings on the wall of Angkor Wat, some guide-less travelers asked him a question about on particular figure in the whole wide wall of figures, he explained it happily. He also disarmed every person that approached us, seeing only rich, pale, tourists (partly by not looking like us, I guess). He exchanged greetings with the children, gave us recommendations on when we could find items cheaper somewhere else.

I guess the best way I can describe Yut is genuine, although while discussing him, Kam and I tossed back and forth words like "inspiring," and "so funny," also with that special Cambodian smile. Yut is a good guy. If you are going to Cambodia and want to meet him, he can be found at www.angkorwalkers.com, and he comes with our highest recommendations. I am aware that part of how well our group got along with him has to do with our group as well, but I'm sold; if you can't get Yut because he's booked, get a good one, because it does make a huge difference in your experience.

That library again

After lunch, we went back for the big one, Angkor Wat, and walked around inside. Dress code is enforced (shoulders and knees covered for both women and men). Angkor Wat is, I believe, Yut’s bread and butter, and he explained the carvings, reliefs, statues (some present, some missing), pools and stones, bullet holes, and all. Again I wished I were more aware of the history of things, that I could recognize the names of the kings being said to me, but I had to settle for recognizing them from previous talks and references during the day and the trip.

I think he got used to hearing me pipe up from wherever I was lingering back from the group (caught on some carved picture or other), “Yut! Question!” But eventually I was satisfied with the amount of information absorbed.

Not our best jumping photo. But Angkor Wat!

Something about the color of the sky in all my photos makes them look a tad fake.

Aaaand finally, it was time to go back and take a nap and get ready for the evening. Because our Angkor Wat day was also New Year’s Eve!

Yut is the last one standing.

Other New Year

2012-01-22T15:24:00.000+09:00

I've been going through and posting about our winter trip little by little, because I want to note it all pretty carefully, but I realized today that I've been leaving out a lot of what's happened since then!

Today it's sunny and ridiculously warm for January; I've got the windows open and the laundry out. Wearin' just one layer and everything! It feels like Georgia out there (46, according to the weather channel).. It's a bright way to start the Dragon year.

Tomorrow's new moon kicks off the lunar new year, which is the actual start of the Year of the Dragon. Water Dragon, to be precise, and I hope that bodes well. Lawyers and I did "The Year in Review" back in December, and by most counts it was a pretty lame year. I recall saying I looked forward to the Rabbit for a nice little rest, and in many ways I can see how last year was metallic rabbitlike, a period of holding space, of making progress without ever actually achieving anything, it seemed. It was hard to find the special high points, although easy enough to point to the low (March, June). The Tohoku disaster was absolutely, abominably devastating to so many people's lives. And while for me, the hardest part of losing Shannon is seeing others lose her too (lose her more?), it was and is still a rocking personal loss. We were asked to give our own personal "best news" from 2011 for the end of year party and I found myself swallowing and looking back over the months and finding... what? "Best news"? What had I accomplished? What had I become in one year's time?

I wrote down my Shorinji brown belt (not to be confused with my 2-kyu test in the summer, which I hated), and my kids winning speech contest, and could not generate a third piece of news. This is strictly personal of course. I had a lot of fun, did a lot of stuff, traveled, met new people, conceived new dreams, tried to kill some old ones off, but couldn't boil it down to anything solid. This also has a lot to do with the state of mind I was in pre-trip.

But tomorrow's new moon is not for dwelling on the past year and its immobility, its status as the "Year without climax." It's about what's happening now, and what will happen next. My next Cambodia trip entry will be the Angkor Wat day, which was also New Year's Eve, and how we rang it into Siem Reap. What I know about the Dragon, now, is that I'm ready. I know this in the same way that I knew with the Rabbit I was not. Not ready to take on the next big challenge, the move, the change, the handing over of this niche and life to someone else.

Today I went to buy new filters for my water pitcher, and picked the 4-pack. "Hey successor," I thought, "you probably haven't even been selected yet, but I'm already gettin you presents." ('Cause the life of all 4 water filters exceeds my tenure)

Sometimes when I stop to think about it, I don't know how I'm going to give up this seat. I've never been good at letting go of any good thing, and I know this is a good thing. For all the little pitfalls and problems, it's still a good thing. You know a vacation was good when it is not only fun in the moment, but makes you better able to appreciate what you have once you get back home, and our trip definitely did that.

I got back on the ball and finished my TEFL course upon returning to Japan. I took the test last weekend and am officially certified now, just like that (certificate's in the mail!). My Shorinji Kempo test for 1-kyu is coming up on the 2nd, and I feel good about it. I mean, I'm not supremely confident, but I've been working hard, and I feel much more ready. For the first week after I got back to Japan, I was going to bed at a reasonable hour and not feeling rushed anymore, or as put-upon. A little of that has come back, but mostly things are falling off as I had lined them up to do. Once decision day is past, I can start training a successor in Hyogo Times. I'm auctioning off my jetwit posting responsibilities to whoever is a capable comer. Twitchy-sensei is the only thing guaranteed to make me crazy, but since they teamed him up, this semester, with Mikan-sensei (poor Mikan-sensei is a pretty big responsibility sponge over there), he keeps Twitchy in line; things are much more tolerable even there.

I have a tendency, I know, to load up on too many things. There are too many things to do, and a great number of them seem worth doing, and so I decide to do them. My resolution last year was -- in space-holding fashion -- just not to add any new things (and I failed at that right away with jetwit). This year it is a decided shift in a letting-go direction. Stop doing all that stuff. Actively get rid of things (objects, responsibilities), with an aim toward a simpler, less cluttered, thus less stressed life, and perhaps even time to write that novel.

I'm still going to travel, and write, and keep in touch by sending people things, because now I don't know how not to. But I am working on saying no, on giving myself the time and space which I am always so keen to give away. I enjoy socializing, but it really does take energy. Today I planned to just hang out until this evening's event in Himeji, reading Hunger Games before my Amazon Prime membership expires tomorrow, running errands. I've had two invitations to go places and do things, and I very nearly said yes to them both. I love to say yes, I love to hang out and chat with people, but I am recognizing more and more that I need some of that for just me, too, and that saying yes just because you are asked is silly.

So, the Water Dragon, what is that like? The dragon is the luckiest of the 12 zodiac creatures, and the only one that is mythical. It's the most badass. I think the water element will make it calm, but it will still be all about energy, dynamism, change. It's a good time to learn to leap.

Sights and Sounds in Siem Reap

2012-01-18T15:27:00.002+09:00

Our temple tour, post-blessing

The next day was our only non-Yut day, where our guide was Sarah instead, of PEPY tours. After our breakfast at the hotel (at which the waitress laughed at me a little because she brought me like... three breakfasts), Sarah met us to bring us to the temple where we would receive our Buddhist blessing. We sat in a way that was more difficult for us than the Japanese seiza has become, and a group of three priests chanted and flicked water on us. It was really nice, as I like spiritual things. I was a little self conscious of the skirt I wore that only just covered my knees. We had heard from Yut about the life of a monk, since he'd been one for ten years; they have strict rules about what and when they can eat (no dinner, no food after lunch!), and they aren't permitted to touch women at all (not even their family members!). A youngish monk gave us a tour of the temple's grounds, which were generally bright and peaceful.

Our next stop was the PEPY offices, where we would learn get to see more about who they are and what they do. We heard first from the PEPY Cambodia side, the NPO, about their programs in Chanleas Dai, both currently ongoing and also those previously tried and phased out. I have a lot of respect for the work they're doing there, not least because it's very hands-on (it's so frustrating when decisions are made "high up" at a level from which their effects "on the ground" aren't clear), but it's also community focused and driven, meaning that they're veering hard away from giving a man a fish, so to speak. They're teaching the children to fish, instead.

An example is the Child-to-Child program, where children work together to think about issues in their own communities. They have to identify and research issues that they see around them, and then discuss possible solutions. But not only this, PEPY is working toward the eventual goal of phasing itself out, which is logically the goal of any NPO in a developing area -- the idea being, the area gets underway and once the ball is rolling, such NPOs and their help become unnecessary. A good percentage of PEPY's personnel are Cambodian, rather than it being made up of westerners. Because, heck. It's Cambodia's issues they're working with, so it's Cambodia's people that ought to be doing it, eh? All part of the avoidance of just giving fish (stuff), and developing people instead.

Cambodia is a really young country, and in that way, it can feel like the opposite of Japan. Japan's problem lately is falling birthrates and an aging population. Too many old people, and not enough youngsters to support them. This is of course a problem economically, but it also changes the feel, and that's not something I really noticed until I contrasted it with the Cambodian thing. Cambodia is full of young people and kids, and their issue is not a matter of lacking vigor/energy (like Japan?), but their need is wisdom (the kind that comes with age) and teachers. The old need the young for their strength, and the young need the old for their knowledge.

Katie and I in the tuk-tuk on the way to PEPY office

Because of the experience I have, education is my pet issue. In general, I'm a fan of the idea of teaching kids how to learn, how to ask questions, how to think critically, how to problem-solve, rather than just giving them facts and information. In today's world, memorized facts are less and less useful. There are so many things I either never knew or have forgotten, but I know how to find a lot of them (I confess that mostly the method is "google that shit"), and that's good enough for most situations.

Next we visited the PEPY tours office, right next door to the NPO. For me personally, it's nice to see things in real life, so I can imagine them better. For all that I like writing, written descriptions of things fall rather flat on me. I like to stand with a thing or in a place to really understand it.. I have to be there to get it. A lot of PEPY people were either out in the field, or else getting ready for the PEPY Ride, their big bike trip across the country (which I kind of.. er.. hope to attend next year, so I'll be working on that soon, hopefully!), but we did get to meet some of the staff, and I noted that their offices had a friendly, warm feel to them.

Food side of market

More of food market

Sarah took us to get a delicious noodle lunch, and then we were off to the market, which was jam-packed with goods and sights and smells, all kinds of fruits and vegetables and meats, prepared foods in one section (Kameron got a banana leaf of sticky rice), ingredients elsewhere, and in another area, souvenirs and clothes, odds and ends. Anytime you paused or even glanced at something, you would be immediately accosted by the voice of the booth's proprietor (at least in the souvenir section) urging you to buy something. I've never been especially good at haggling or bargaining, and I kind of hate having someone hang right on me as I shop, so this didn't always play well with me. But, I do like to get things on the cheaps, and in Cambodia in the market, a lot of things are on the cheaps, so it was a dilemma indeed.

After the market, we walked back along the river, stopping for an ice dessert along the way. She brought us back to the hotel, pointing out other places of interest along the way, then sent us on our merry 'free afternoon' way. We returned to the market and ran a few 'errands' (I needed some more knee-covering pants for the temple visiting), then had an early pizza dinner, before beginning the search for a pool we'd heard about. We thought we found the building that had a pool on the roof, and as we climbed the stairs we heard music and crowd-like noises... but it was just a skating rink! We laughed about that for a bit, then redoubled our search efforts. Eventually we did find Aqua, a bar apparently frequented by expats (one of whom had a really cute dog that reminded me a lot of Karma), complete with in-pool bar facility. We swam around, then caught out tuk-tuks back for a reasonably early bedtime, since the next morning was to be a super early start-- up at 4 again, this time for sunrise at Angkor Wat!

Skating rink, not a pool

Karma-like

Into Siem Reap

2012-01-16T21:16:00.000+09:00

The morning of the 29th, we packed up, patted Tupaco (the half-tailed cat at homestay) farewell, thanked our homestay families, and departed after a breakfast involving another round of the strong, thick coffee and condensed milk (I got the bottom of the pitcher one day, and may have asked they group if anyone wanted my "coffee paste"). The drive back to town was pretty long, more window-staring, some soul-searching maybe, or just observation.

We arrived at the Mandalay Inn and dropped off our things, then got some lunch in town. Someone prophetically dubbed our lunch spot "clubhouse II," and we would return there more than once during the course of our Siem Reap stay.

On the roof of Mandalay

Since we'd been in the village the night before, and a wedding was in process that week, we'd again been woken very early by the loudspeakers, not to mention the ever-present animals (that goose...), who all seemed to awake simultaneously about 20 minutes before dawn (dawn was 6:30). The hotel was equipped with showers (!) and individual beds, and also a small rooftop gym for Kameron, so we all got a bit of relaxation before our sunset bike ride towards Tonle Sap Lake.

In the late afternoon, we rented mountain bikes and set off south for Phnom Krom, a temple atop a hill overlooking the lake.

As mentioned before, this year saw some intense flooding in Siem Reap, so whatever condition the roads are normally in, they were in worse shape this winter. I was glad to be on a real mountain bike and not China Downtown when negotiating the under-construction road, pitted and also dotted here and there with construction crews, complete with their mud layering and gravel. The tires slid and kicked up Georgia-red-clay-colored mud onto my legs and clothes, but I was happy to be moving, and under my own power too.

The road that leads to Phnom Krom also leads to the floating village; in the lake area, flooding is normal, and everything is either built up high, or else floatable. We didn't see the floating village, but if we'd had another day, it might have been the addition. We rode past rice fields and restaurants, and lots and lots of houses, delighting in the mud and breeze and slanting sun.

From partway up the steps to Phnom Krom

From further up the steps

Amongst the ruins

Our sermon on the mount.

We climbed up the steps to Phnom Krom and walked through the active temple area to the temple ruins. After looking around there a little bit, we took up a spot on the hillside facing the sun. Here we had our second "Way of the Day," wherein Yut explained another of the Eight Ways of Buddhism. I thought of them more as his way of telling us about the 'true meaning of Buddhism,' and this instance in particular as the sermon on the mount. Yut was a monk for ten years, so I consider him pretty well studied.

Sunset over Tonle Sap

We watched the sun on its way down, but we had already been told that we couldn't watch the whole sunset, because then the sun would be down, and we'd be biking home in the dark, and that was not the plan; also we had dinner plans with some people from PEPY. We lingered too long, though, and even though we hurried down the mountain and biked fast through the buggy evening past houses setting out their dinners in the fading light, night fell over us as on the road back. I was in the lead, being a speed demon and having been given the go-ahead, navigating the darkening road (it was a straight shot, so no one was worried).

I was soon using the light of passing cars to see the road and it's changes. I stopped caring whether I went into the roughened patches or stayed on the smooth part of the road. Up ahead I saw where the road changed to a stretch of gravel. I was nearly on top of it when I realized it wasn't a stretch of gravel, it was a my-height pile of gravel, but then it was too late and I rode headfirst into it. I imagine from the side it looked really comical, because from the side it was really obvious that I was biking almost full speed directly into a stationary object, but from my perspective the morph from flat road ahead to vertical pile was instantaneous and shocking. Kameron almost crashed into me. I was fine (it was a little exhilarating), but also willing to take a spot further back in the biking line as several group members passed me trying to extricate my bike from the gravel into which it had softly sunk.

We got back and cleaned up to meet the PEPY folk for dinner and discussions about development and foreign aid. Those after-dinner discussions were like being back in college: read this article, argue on this side of the issue, then switch. It looked to me like they were pleased with our academic exertions, and it reminded me personally of what I miss about being formally in school.

But then again, one need not be formally in school to do things like this, eh? So here's to always being in the process of learning something.

The Village

2012-01-11T11:23:00.005+09:00

Once we’d made our way through visa adventures (we werelast in line for some reason) and changed some money in the tiny Siem Reapairport, we were met outside by a guy holding a sign emblazoned with the PEPYlogo and our names. This was Yut, our guide for most of the trip. We made aquick round of introductions, and he led us to a van. I was pretty loopy fromthe whole getting up at 4am (3am,Cambodia time!) thing, and it was now about 8:30.

Yut explained that we were going to head to the villagehomestay straightaway, with a stop along the way to visit a silk-making place.He passed us some snacks (one bag was full of chips and things, the jackfruitchips being my favorite, and the other bag was full of assorted fruit like tinybananas, lychees, mangosteen, and other things too exotic to be within mymemory grasp), and then we were seeing how silk was made, both old and newmethods of spinning, dyeing, weaving, and so on. Cambodian silk is always ayellow color before dyeing. We got to hold silkworms!

Next, we stopped for lunch; Yut said it was an earlylunch, but to me it felt like about the right timing.. we’d been up for a wholeday’s worth of time, and it was throwing me off. Yut casually explained whatkind of ice is okay to have in your glass (round cylinders with holes are okay,but stuff that looks like it was maybe hammered off a big ol’ block is not sogood) and ordered us a round of freaking delicious soup and other food.

We progressed on the road to Banteay Chmar, which isnorthwest of Siem Reap, near the Thailand border, stopping once for gas (andfried banana chips sprinkled with a dusting of sugar). Spent most of that timejust staring out the window at the landscape. Miles and miles of houses onstilts, muddy large-puddles or mini-ponds filled with ducks by the roadside,large expanses of now-dry Riceland populated with wandering cows.

At Banteay Chmar, we settled our stuff in our homestaylocations, two houses across the street from one another, and regrouped at the town’slocal center for tourism and international things, which we came to considerour base or clubhouse, as we often met and ate there.

We had our first language lesson with Yut, who had taughtus some Khmai (Khmer) in the van (we had immediately wanted to know how to saythings like hello and thank you). Being a whole team of language teachers, wepracticed it on each other. Then we took a walking tour to one of the smalltemples that is part of a set of eight that surround the big temple of BanteayChmar. A group of cows made way for us and we learned about the four-facesstyle of the Cambodia temples from our locally (as in Banteay Chmar) based guide,and from Yut (who is from just outside Siem Reap).

Studying!

We walked back through the village saying hello andtaking in sights as we headed toward dinner at our clubhouse. Over dinner, wediscussed an article we’d been asked to read about the recent flooding inCambodia. The big lake between Siem Reap and Phnom Penh, Tonle Sap, grows andshrinks with the rainy and dry seasons (that is why houses are often built offthe ground level), but this year the rainy season brought flooding moreextensive and intense than in years before (read about it here).

After dinner, we were all pretty tired. We returned toour homestays where I washed up with the ladle and resovoir of rainwater in thetiled bathroom while Kameron, Katie, and Miriam practiced Khmai with our hostfamily in the ground-floor living room. We then went upstairs to bed undermosquito nets in little wooden rooms with the shutters open. Our local guidehad explained we can shut the windows when we get cold, and we’d laughed, butthat night the wind made things pretty chilly and we ended up taking hisadvice.

Being in the village was like hitting the opposite ofeverything I had been sunk in even just the day before, in our plush hotel indowntown KL with room service breakfasts and shopping malls across the park atKLCC. I felt, in Banteay Chmar, farther away than I had ever, ever been fromeverything I had ever known. Our homestay house was a rich one, I knew, becausethey had a TV and it was on in the evening when we came back. Across the streetthere was parked a Toyota Camry. There wasn’t running water, so you flushed thetoilet by pouring water in with a ladle-scoop. The roads were dirt, and incrediblydusty in this dry season.

That's the front door; our rental van at right.

Kids ran around both shoed and barefoot, chickens seemedto be living the free-range life. Everything seemed much more raw and vivid,like the terrifying idea of living hand-to-mouth, only for real out here, notthrough some conduit of paychecks and well-lit open-late grocery stores. Therewere no grocery stores, nor things that required 24-hour refrigeration becausethe electricity turned off at night. That’s why (I conjecture, anyway)Cambodian coffee is served with condensed milk (and fresh milk is more a signof luxury). Trash just littered the streets near the front of the market area,old, part of the ground almost.

Charging batteries for nighttime use.

The children were curious, the people were all veryfriendly. They were poor, of course, but there was something else. We, fromAmerica, New Zealand, and Canada, could make comparisons and think of what theylacked, but did they even know? And if you have never had a thing, can you missit, can you long for it?

It was sort of.. swallowing. Certainlyperspective-lending, which I will say I found myself in perfectly fitting needof right at that time. Beneath the Cambodian winter sun, standing on the dustand watching the dogs wander and people go by on trucks piled high, on bikesseating two or three, on long-horned automotive creatures, it really could not matter about this or that orall those other things I had already forgotten as soon as we got out of thevan. The world is so, so much bigger, with so so many more problems, issues,opportunities, and things to understand than we can possibly know.

Outside ourbedroom window lived an extremely loud goose. Even without the goose, though,we were wakened early by a loudspeaker somewhere blasting music and soundinglike a morning radio show (was that the weather in Khmai?) or something. Idrowsed through it with my mad combination of sleeping-near-a-highway skillsand earplugs until about dawn, when we all rolled out and back to the clubhouseto get ready for this second day in the village.

In the morning we went through the market, full of goods(someone tell me why Angry Birds are all over Southeast Asia?) and another partwith food, buckets of still-flopping snake-headed fish, women shooing flies offof cuts of meat, lots of fruit and vegetables. Everyone who smiled at you whenyou said hello, or smiled at them, or sometimes for no reason at all. Littlekids shouting hello in English.

I didn’t take any photos because I felt self-consciousabout it, and because once we reached the end of the market and turned around,something was happening on one side. A woman was shouting at a man. I happenedto be walking near Yut, so I asked him what was going on. “Domestic violence,”he said as we edged past the couple. I blinked. The woman had a meat cleaver.No way. “She’s very angry, he’s drunk.” Yut added.

In the rainy season, people have to work hard and fast toplant rice and get everything taken care of in time, but once it gets dry andwintery, people can relax more. It’s the harvest, and wedding season too. Ourbike ride through the area had us end up near a place where day one of awedding was to be held later that day. The preparation, a grooming ritual aboutcutting hair and making yourself ready to wed, I think.. there are seven daysin a usual wedding, and on this day the bride and groom would wear red. Wedecided to go back to it after lunch instead of going straight to the old temple.

We visited another silk weaving place, and this time Ibought a few things. We had another delicious lunch and learned some more Khmai(counting!), read some articles and had a nap before heading back to thewedding.

The goddesses are at far left and right

The wedding was strange to me, not for the customs butfor the way we were treated. We were given seats and included like what I wouldcall guests of honor, even though we were foreign strangers. I felt like wewere gatecrashing a family event, but I heard later that they felt reallyhonored that we came to that part of the wedding, graced it with our curiouspresences, I suppose. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that exactly. The wedding’sleader/holy man/emcee was really cool, and a pair of other people did a skitabout goddesses coming to earth. It sounded like there was wordplay going on,and one of the goddesses was a guy dressed up in makeup, but all in all it wasvery cool. Lots of bright colors and music, and kids running around, playinggames where if you win you get to hit each other.

From there, we headed to the temple, where we climbed allover. I’m used to sites where you can’t really touch anything, but this was awhole other place. We learned a bit about the naval battle and the fromagetrees that are destroying temples everywhere (even if you cut them down, theycome up somewhere else from the same root system, I think?). A boy from townfollowed us around, I guess to practice English.

Naval battle!

Fromage trees

As evening fell, we returned to homestay to clean up,another bracing rainwater bath, then we had our picnic dinner. We went back tothe temple ruins and sat under the stars (there are a LOT of stars out there)by candle and torchlight while musicans played traditional instruments and hadour dinner. A group of French tourists sat nearby, but I think we were havingmore fun than they were. After we finished eating, we got up and were taughttraditional dances around a torch; we laughed and flailed. It was one of themagical moments of the trip, for me. Simon taught us the Maori haka, and wethanked the musicians and the cooks from the clubhouse and our local guide,because we were to leave the next morning.

The village stay, since it was so very far fromeverything, everything, is one of the most significant parts of the trip to me.I think I may still be working it all out.. something about living simply,about needing and wanting, about work or freedom or… something.

Katie with Tupaco

View from our homestay upper porch

More photos from this part here.

South East Asia December 2011: The Beginning

2012-01-09T11:57:00.003+09:00

I'm in my apartment and I can see my breath in little steam clouds as I stretch a little and prepare to take on the task of writing about my trip.

It's different this time; the trip was different. It was bigger, I guess.. quite literally in one way, as I was gone for a full two weeks, and I didn't even do that last year. But also in scope and meaning. It was one of those weeks where every day feels like a week all on its own, for what you see and do and try to comprehend. (GHP is like that. From the high to the low, the mad and the meaningful, fellow group members and I found ourselves agreeing that this was just what we needed.

Because yes, in step one I did want to get away from the cold. That is not the primary motivation, exploration and learning are that, but it is the beginning place. But I think if I had spent that week lying on a beach in south-someplace or other, I might still feel vaguely unsettled. It's not that I don't love the beach, and also that I don't see the importance of indulging oneself, nor the value in merely escaping the workaday responsibilities. I had, I confess, more internet access than I was wont to make public. I mean, I could get at the computers and internet if I wanted to, if I worked at it, but damn I just didn't want to work at it.

There was far too much else going on, really. And I want to share that stuff with you.

So I'm going to break it up into parts, because really, writing the entire thing at one go would be a beast for me to do, and also you would be far less likely to read it.

So, first, I'll just do the very beginning, before we even got to Cambodia: Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia (our "stopover")
What day is it today?
Today? Why today sir, it's Christmas Day!

On December 25th, I spent the morning cleaning up and getting ready to leave. I walked myself and my suitcase to the interstate bus stop through the sunny windy winter brightness. Everything was smooth and quiet, the bus nearly empty, with lots of time to spare, so no rushing. I met up with group members Miriam (not the same one as last year, though) and Simon, and we exchanged money into US dollars and Malaysian ringgits for the days ahead. I shamelessly tried to run the exchange booth out of $1 bills because I heard it's better to have small bills in Cambodia. Also, in case you haven't noticed, the exchange rate from yen to $ is still pretty ballin.

The flight to Malaysia from KIX is a new addition, but it is no less long. It was a six-and-a-half hour bore-a-thon in some ways, but mostly I just read in my book and cracked open my newly designated 'travel journal' that I got for my birthday from Erin, and tried to sleep a little.

Getting off the plane in KL requires stepping right out of the doors onto a wheeled stairway, not a jetbridge, so you're immediately in that air. The temperature in KL was like 34, that's sweatin weather, for those of you that don't use Celsius, and what I can tell you is that my room this morning was 4 degrees cold, and that change, so instant, from chilly airplane to hot-humid air above the tarmac, will make you take a deep breath and just be grateful to be able to do it.

We arrived at eleven-something, and then had to go through the normal processes of entering a foreign country. Then it was another hour ride from the airport to the city center. When we got in, I was pretty zonked, but the group was united for the first time, so we all went out to eat (at whatever place was open!), and even had time to get a quick drink along a street teeming with bars and clubs in the middle of KL. Our hotel was next to the KLCC towers, as you can see:

We didn't get back until about 4, and promptly crashed into sleep. We decided just to sleep til we were done, which ended up being around noon. Which was when I caught up with Anis, who was already on her way to pick me up to take me to her cousin's wedding reception! She was even bringing me a dress, becauase I'd asked her what to wear. I get really self conscious about wearing inappropriate things to other culture's/family's events.

Being in KL and being able to see Anis again was a huge bonus addition to the Cambodia trip. It was strange but good to be back so soon to the place I went for vacay only last year. We caught up briefly in the car, her story, like so many this past year, "same old, mostly." Even though it was only for a day, I am glad I got to spend time with her!

About weddings, she explained that they do it over several days. I'm just writing from memory, so don't quote me on this, but first there is the ceremony, the official wedding thing. After that, they have a reception for the bride's family and friends, and the next day, one for the groom's family and friends. Her cousin was the groom, although her younger sister was to be married the following weekend, and for that, Anis was the maid of honor.

Anis and I with the bride and groom!

Eating (of course)! That's her dad on the left.

Meeting her family was really fun, too. I always love to see the backgrounds from which my favorite people came. Everyone was very warm and welcoming, and I felt fine there. Sometimes I have a tendency to feel like an outsider or intruder on events like that, even as I get treated as special, not foreign. But the combination of their demeanor, Anis's presence, and my vacational vow to just let shit go helped allow me to just enjoy the festivities. Her sister, who was as friendly and warm as Anis, said she wished I would still be around for her wedding ceremony.

Afterward, Anis took me to Putrajaya (where I'd never been, actually!) so we could see at least a little of touristy things before she had to go back and take care of some things (helping plan her sister's wedding!). We visited the Putra Mosque where Anis wrapped my scarf around my head so I wouldn't have to wear the pink cloak-things they give to visitors. You have to be fully covered, and nothing real form-fitting either. But with my borrowed dress, I was already halfway there. The place was beautiful and peaceful, and it was my first visit to a mosque! (Having been to several types of temples and churches, both for events and just to sightsee..) You can also see the Perdana Putra, where they keep the Prime Minister's office, from the mosque.

She dropped me off, and I changed back back into westerner, and joined my friends at the rooftop pool to frolic until the pool closed at 7, then we ordered mojitos. We had a 4:30 departure time for the airport, which is an insane wake-up proposition.. still we didn't manage to get to bed until about 11 or 12, just hanging out in the hotel chatting with the group (Miriam, Nohea, Simon, Katie, Kameron, myself, and our chance meetup Brian, who was touring the same areas of Asia as us at the same time).

Sweet.

Brian, Miriam, Kameron, and myself... mojito time

Group: Katie, Brian, me, Kameron, Simon (not pictured: Nohea, Miriam)

Just as a note... Malaysia is one hour behind Japan, and Cambodia is two hours behind. Laos is on the same time as Cambodia. And here are the photos from that day:

2011_12_26

So then we dragged ourselves out of bed, into cabs, to the airport, where Miriam, Nohea, and I stopped for coffee/kayatoast, which caused us a little delay that others worried might cost us the flight (others worried, but not I... well so long as we jogged).

But finally secured in our seats, we took off for our early morning arrival in Siem Reap, Cambodia.

and then

2012-01-04T19:22:00.001+09:00

Laos. It's lovely!

from the edge of something else

2012-01-01T20:18:00.000+09:00

Cambodia. It's amazing.

And Now For Something Completely Different

2011-12-24T22:09:00.000+09:00

Hi there everyone. My name's EmLem. When I'm not shaping today's youth, or out being a scholarly pilgrim at the Kansai temples of Japan, I'm attending Kpop concerts in Osaka.

Okay so that's not entirely true. But it's not entirely false, either.

The other weekend, I attended my first Kpop concert, because ELove invited NeoShiso's ladies and a handful of us said, sure, why the hell not?

Permit me to put the brakes on for a moment; I can hear some of you wondering just what on earth is "Kpop"?!

An excellent question. In the vein of Jpop and Jrock (being Japanese pop and rock respectively), Kpop is Korean pop music!

I went to see Super Junior, which appeared to me about the equivalent of a Korean large (about 13-member?) boy band. The first concert I ever went to was Backstreet Boys, so I figured this was about up my alley.

And of course I love to experience new things, right?

Although my boy-band U.S. concert experience is far enough in the past that a comparison between that and this is meaningless, I will nonetheless use that middle-school attended concert more than ten years ago as a background for describing this one (it was, after all, my background for experiencing it).

First off is the prep and priming. Backstreet Boys are easier for me to understand, being American first of all (and therefore, producing songs in English). I heard them on the popular radio very often and knew most of their songs to the point that I could sing along.

As for Super Junior, they are Korean (but release songs in several languages). The exposure to their songs has been limited to YouTube videos at ELove's, and her varied attempts to educate me on their names, styles, special skills, and likability. I don't really listen to the radio in Japan (surprise surprise) and even if I did, I don't think Super Junior is mainstream enough to be on the radio. And even if they were, it would probably be the Japanese versions of whatever songs have been released with Japanese versions, which aren't all of them, or aren't all the best songs, or isn't the best version of the song.

Let me give you an example of this. One video that ELove showed me was Tai Wan Mei ("Perfection"), which is a really fun song that I enjoy a great deal. The version she showed me is the Chinese version of the song, which according to her sounds cooler than the Korean (while the Japanese version sounds stupid).

That brings up an interesting comparison between western boy groups and those here near the eastern edge: these groups are releasing songs in several languages, because their audience is spread over several countries, which have different languages. Western groups can, in their native tongue, reach a much wider audience with the same version of the same song. Super Junior is, by necessity, more versatile. They don't necessarily speak the languages in which they sing or record songs, but they do know many of their songs in several languages.

But those several languages do not frequently include English. So this leads to another aspect of the difference of intelligibility. Not understanding the lyrics does not always mean a song is less enjoyable. Although I personally appreciate lyrics very much, it also means that a good sound can be ruined forever for me if the lyrics are (and they frequently are, in popular music) totally stupid (I won't get started on this because it'll go on for paragraphs). Kpop songs may be totally inane, but I don't know that just by hearing it, and this prevents me from hating on the songs. I can just have fun with them!

Something else fun: the level of ridiculousness at the Super Junior show is much higher than I remember it being with American boy bands. SJ doesn't seem to take itself that seriously. Their entrance was, naturally, epic, but by the end they had charged out onstage dressed as a random assortment of characters (seriously, ranging from Steve Jobs [too soon?], to Gollum, to Marilyn Monroe, to Hulk Hogan, to Britney Spears), and later on, they pranced around dressed as the cast of The Sound of Music. They were clearly having fun being ridiculous, so it was hard not to laugh along with them.

There are a lot of members of this group, which is its own way kind of ridiculous, but I'll attempt really quickly to give an overview of what I know of the members*. To be fair, I'll look up the spelling of their names, and also include a picture. Then I'll tell you what I know about them, which in some cases is jack.

*The matter of members is a bit confusing for me sometimes, as members are part of SJ in different capacities, and also some members are absent because they are serving in the Korean army as per the requirement of their country.

I'll go in SuperShow poster order. Also, I've pillaged the internet for these pictures because I thought visual aids would help. For this reckless usage I apologize to the internet. Find more with google!

Kyuhyun sang "Isn't She Lovely" as his solo and is totally charming. He's officially one of my favorites. There's also something about his face (his mouth) I really like (since you wanted to know that). His costume was Steve Jobs, and apparently he is also a bit of a video game nerd? He's adorable.

Sungmin is a cutie, and is most memorable to me for the fantastic figure he cut as Marilyn Monroe during the costume bit. His solo was a Korean song I don't know, so it was pretty but I wasn't as engaged. Yeah, mostly all I remember is that he's a babe, and made an excellent Marilyn.

Shindong is really fun. In some of the older videos ELove showed me, he is chubby and has a terrible haircut, but in the concert itself he looked great. He's possibly the least girly of the members (so this may be why he's always the one in a dress... or that could be because he is one of the most comical), and his solo was, I shit you not, "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" (remixed of course). His costume was Britney Spears, and he also played the Julie Andrews part in their Sound of Music skit. He's a pretty badass dancer, though to me his face tends to look worried or concerned/confused.

Eunhyuk, known also as Hyukee, sang a song we're calling "What's My Name?" because it required the crowd to scream his name back at him at regular intervals. The actual title roughly translates to something along the lines of "I am radiant gem handsome man Lee Hyukjae." His costume was a big white chicken. Eunhyuk does a lot of the writing and rappingand is apparently very talented.

Siwon, famous for his eyebrows, his abs, and his love for Jesus, is not one of ELove's favorites. He does come off as a bit arrogant, but then again, he's a pop star! I personally found him delightful. Did I mention the abs? His costume was Superman, and his solo at the show was a church song, I kid you not. And while "Moves Like Jagger" might fly with Japanese audiences because, though it's in English, those into popular music would recognize the tune, church songs do not enjoy the same kind of fame in Japan. They didn't get it, but us gaijin girls sure did. Also, have you heard about this guy's abs?

Donghae is a ladies' man, and it's easy to see why. I like his face too! His solo was more of a duo (I won't say duet.. it wasn't a love song) with his biffles Eunhyuk, and we'll call it "The Rise of Oppa," oppa being the Korean term (so I'm taught) that younger females say to older males that means something along the lines of the Japanese sempai... like higher-ranking male person, or big-brother. It's a term of respect and apparently girls yell it at their concerts a lot.

Leeteuk is the leader of the band, and I think he's a hottie. Some fans are concerned about what will become of the band when he has to go into the army. He's a really hard worker; you know how I feel about that. <3 His solo was "She," and I don't remember as much about it.

Yesung, nicknamed "The Creeper," (but for this we have an affinity)... he was Chuckie for the crazy costumes bit, and his solo was "Kiss Me." I don't really remember it either.

Ryeowook, or "Wookie" is one of the main singers with (in my opinion) the most recognizable voice. His face is really small, and he's a bit too pretty, but his solo "Moves Like Jagger" was super hot so he earned extra points in my book there. He also dressed as Gollum. Nice. [note upon editing: I just realized why his face bothers me. He really resembles one of my students -- a fifth grader who is always calling me Willy Wonka and attempting to learn curse words]

Heechul was not present physically, though he was included in one song ("Oops!") via the giant video screen; everyone saluted him, as he's currently off being in the military. He's one of the most famous members, and several concertgoers were dressed up as "Lady HeeHee" - his rendition of Lady Gaga - in his honor.

Zhoumi - a member of Super Junior M, the subgroup formed for the business of touring in China, Zhoumi is a Chinese member who is super cute and has shoulder dance moves that no straight man could hope to do. He sang for his solo "Because of You" by Kelly Clarkson and got lots of love from Elove.

Henry - possibly my favorite, Henry is Canadian and also part of Super Junior M (and not the 'main group'). I know he looks like he thinks he is cool in this photo, but mostly he is adorable. His solo was a sort of Bruno Mars medley in which he sang "Billionaire," "Lazy Song," and "Lighters." I got to see him play the piano and the violin.

The members also vary in their performance styles and talents. Some of them have great voices, and others are better at dancing. One or two of them do a lot more rapping than the others. This has caused them to coalesce into subgroups within the main group.. for example, "KRY" (Kyuhyun, Ryeowook, and Yesung) is known for doing ballads. There are also the groups Super Junior T, Super Junior Happy, and as mentioned, Super Junior M.

If you want more, I'm going to attach below ELove's video suggestions (again with the reckless pilfering.. but I like her commentary!). Enjoy. ^_^

Super Junior Main:

Bonamana: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSOSxwEWFA4

Sorry Sorry: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6QA3m58DQw&feature=relmfu

Neorago (It's You): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ErgffP0wVw&feature=fvwrel

Sorry Sorry Answer: http://youtu.be/6S4V6Wgwbko

Mr. Simple: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r6TwzSGYycM&feature=related

Acha: http://youtu.be/GvTaLTTanJc

Don't Don (ooooold and everyone has Final Fantasy hair. Also Henry might make a cameo!): http://youtu.be/_ESoJwGkCeg

No Other (aka the music video where Heechul is replaced by a pod person): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSOSxwEWFA4

Super Junior M:

Me (everyone is adorable! especially Zhou Mi) (this vid has English subs cause I couldn't find the Chinese version on SM's official channel. I cannot vouch for how good they are): http://youtu.be/42C6vNgYsB4

U (everyone is hot and improves on the original. Also features Henry doing the violimbo ): http://youtu.be/wq0cu1_hoT0

Super Girl (the Super Junior M song. Zhou Mi makes eyes, you wish you were a gay man): http://youtu.be/wsD4Ra86w4Y

Tai Wan Mei: http://youtu.be/OSqgZMyOiLU

Super Junior T:

Rokugo: http://youtu.be/NIwKHgcIEDU

Super Junior Happy:

Pajama Party: http://youtu.be/Cehi-lCqSX0

Eve

2011-12-24T16:56:00.000+09:00

Well, it's Christmas Eve, and I'm doing all manner of things to get ready to go, finish up last minute stuff before heading out to the great south-east of Asia for warmth and relaxation at last. My living room is a maze of laundry, the new-year cards need to be finished, and I still haven't really packed (but I did get my passport photos at MaxValu, and my airport bus tickets from Lawson!)

Outside all day I've been hearing whistles and shouts, and I thought it was construction on the road, but silly me, I forgot, it's Christmas Eve and that means the entire town is stopping by the cake shop across the street to get their traditional Japanese Christmas cakes. I had Christmas cake last night. Tried to tell the kids we do cookies where I'm from. C'est la vie.

I'm going to try to put some music or movies on my kindle for the plane ride, which is longer than I always figure it'll be.

nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior

2011-12-21T15:59:00.000+09:00

It's finally here: Wednesday. I've been looking longingly at this day on the calendar since sometime last week when I realized what was happening on that pattern of numbered squares. It's a desk day, a nothing but do as you will you little ALT you day (oh, and o-souji), after weeks and weeks of classes and lesson planning and elementary and children being horrible brats and snide comments and terrorizing each other and I need a vacation for the love of God...

As usual, there's a lot going on. A lot of fun things, a lot of exciting things, a lot of tiring, tedious things, a lot of normal things, daily grind things, online course-taking things (did I mention that my TEFL course has been both more interesting and helpful, and also more demanding of me than I predicted it would be?).

I just checked to make sure my flights are all in order (that is, that I actually do have tickets for all the different flights I thought I had tickets for). Now I'm putting all the info on to one handy page, registering with the travel website of the US, and trying to generate a packing list.

But when I say there's a lot going on, it isn't all just out there in the physical world.. I also mean inside my head. It's been a bit of a mess in there lately. I don't mean to complain, but I do mean to be honest. I've been riding right up on the edge of a nice toasty meltdown.

A lot of it has to do with my ever more precarious position, timewise. As the weeks go by, things shift more and more. Everything becomes a game of now or never. I look outside and I resent having to leave this place. I look down and can't wait to get out. I say, it's my third year, so that means I have to go. "They've changed the contract," my fellow ALTs tell me, "look, you can stay up to five years, now."

Five years, three years: neither one is really permanent. The more I learn and the better I get at my job, the more frustrating become the confines of the system within which I am wrapped. They don't know what I mean when I say, it's my third year, so I have to go.

It feels connected to an inner need to own something, or build something, rather than just subsist comfortably between the lines of what the teachers expect and the students enjoy.

You can always tell a Dutchman, but you can't tell him much. When I arrived, I was daunted because the shoes were bigger than my feet, but the more I learn about language, about teaching, the more I wish I could run the city's English program (does it officially have one?), design its curriculum, lay out its calendar, and direct its activities. I want to do things my way, but not just my things. I want to be in charge of the entire affair, albeit in small scale. I would say, let me open a language school, but there are already plenty of those. Besides, I want it to be available publicly, to everyone; I want the English classes already happening four times a week to really accomplish something. I want to go at it in a systematic and real way, I want someone to see what a multi-layered approach to foreign language education starting in elementary school and pursued in earnest can really do. I mean, you'd have kids, like, fuckin'... speaking English and shit!

My dreams and desires are too big for my pigeonhole. So even though I like my salary, and I love my school (I seriously think my particular position is one worthy of envy) for its wonderful students and excellent fellow staff members and sweet new building, and I like my apartment, and I like my ALT friends, and my travel opportunities, and my Japanese townies and their gifts and their pets, and my Japan seasons and small town life, I don't like my job anymore, and I honestly think that for that reason, someone else will do a better job than me next year. Because they'll be excited to teach Halloween or whatever cultural holiday, and I skipped it entirely this year. Because I'm tired of fighting fourth graders, and enduring exuberant shouts of "gaikokujin!" (though it is pretty friggin cute that a four-year-old is able to include the "koku" part of that word... it's much more polite that way) I'm tired of "harro" and "ohashi jouzu," and all the stares and trepidation I encounter when I try to deal with people that don't know me.

And I'm tired too of missing holidays, family gatherings, weddings, funerals, parties, and babies. I'm tired of telling kids about holiday traditions in which I don't get to participate this year, and furthermore, knowing that they don't quite get it, because you don't know what it's like unless you're there, and moreover, there again and again every year. What is Halloween really like? How can I simulate or explain the experience of trick-or-treating, costumes, and also how your Halloween evolves from age 5 to 15? What is the true meaning of Christmas, especially to a roomful of Shinto-Buddhists?

I'm not part of Japan, not really, and in many ways never can be. In other ways, it could be a matter of time. Language barriers shift, weaken, and in some sectors come down, but in others they remain annoyingly in the way. But I'm not part of the lives of the people back home either; how much does anyone really know or understand about how my life goes on a normal basis, about what annoys, delights, gratifies, or frightens me? About what I enjoy, what I'm grateful for, what I need, and what I want? And what do I know about what it's like to be over there now? That feeling of disconnect has been approaching fever pitch.

I've complained before about people who say they want to start on their "real lives," how I think being here is just as real and just as part of life as going back home to a non-existent job and a bigger picture. But I do have to admit that there are a lot of things that are on hold while being here. This is another case of totaling up the little things -- each on-hold item is not a big deal by itself, but enough of them, and for long enough, starts to tip the balance over. Professionally and personally speaking, I can see the way the scales have slid, and I know it's time to go (relatively).

But I still hate to have to.

Semi-Blind

2011-12-20T18:34:00.002+09:00

About a month and a half ago, I was invited by the lady whoruns the place where I rent my car to attend a fancy French dinner at herhouse, cooked by a chef visiting from Tokyo. She explained that they would havea bunch of friends over, and that a few of the ALTs of Shiso were alreadyplanning to come, and that I should also invite Lauren if I liked, but to letthem know because they needed to know numbers in advance, for the chef ofcourse.

Of course. And I thought, why the hell not, I like food, andI like when someone else cooks it for me, and I’m always up to get out mynormal eating habits which consist mostly of eating at Laputa, eating atNamphu, or making pancakes. I wrote “fancy French feast” in my planner. It wasgoing to be pricey as dinners go (well not really; I live in the countryside,so to me, thirty bucks is pricey), but once I arrived and tasted the (insertfancy French word here) I knew it was well worth it. We chatted with someaccountants who do the books for the car people, and I noted that one of themwas kind of cute (he was also wearing a jacket of my favorite color), but beingmoderately attractive in small town Japan pretty much means you have beenmarried for five years. I marveled at Sam’s ability to communicate despitehaving no Japanese.

Once dinner ended, the chef came out and performed magictricks for us, then left. It was fun and entertaining and I thought, well thiswas a nice evening. I thought that was that, and we would just chat a bit moreand go home. Oh naivety.

Once the chef was gone, the hostess turned to the tallestAustralian present and asked him what kind of woman he’s into. I thought thatwas kind of a funny question for various reasons, but he gave a ridiculousanswer. She passed the question to the next person. And that was when I lookedaround me and realized there were exactly six girls and six boys at the dinnerparty, not counting the family of the hostess. I was at a singles party.

I’ve heard about these things in Japan, where people willthrow sort of singles mixers with the intent that attendees will pair off insome way. I recalled that in our self-intros we also all included our age andoccupation (occupation is kind of a normal self-intro thing I guess). We wenton talking about these things for maybe close to an hour before we concludedthe evening with assenting to allowing the hostess to give out our phone emailsto the other guests.

They had another party several weeks ago, one month afterthe first one, but I didn’t attend. I also never got a list of phone emails orI might have attempted to type “what up” in Japanese to the accountant in thegreen jacket.

But then someone emailed me, gave their first name, citedthe dinner party, said “I would be happy if you would talk to me more aboutyour country,” and asked to meet me for coffee. I knew some of the last namesof the people, but there was no way I had retained anyone’s first name. I couldhave asked, but instead I just went with it. I considered it for fun, like ablind date, only not. I ended up with lunch plans with one of the people I hadmet at the party.. but which one? I held out hope for the 37-year-oldaccountant, but thought it was probably the funny guy with glasses in thesweater (also acceptable).

Well, Saturday came, I went to the restaurant, asked for atable for two, and waited. I was joined at the booth by none other than one ofthe women from the party. Oh man. I thought “talk to me about your country” wasjust casual talk for “let’s get together, eh?” But she actually meant it. Disappointinglyenough, it wasn’t really even a gay date, as by the end of it we were talkingabout boys anyway.

I had waited to write this post about it because I wanted tohave the secret revealed for the semi-blind date identity!

Luckily, she works with the green-jacket guy. Yoroshiku, ne?

Merry Me a Little

2011-12-14T14:32:00.003+09:00

Love me just enough.

When I found this, I thought I was hitting the Engrish jackpot, all the Starbucks workers wearin' their red t-shirts, all of them emblazoned with "let's merry" in capital letters.

But, it turns out, it's just an international campaign.

Oh well!

Temple Two For One: Kyoto City (Again)

2011-12-09T20:53:00.001+09:00

Went to Kyoto last weekend, to get my fourth and fifth temple stamps, and also to visit "Mickie," and to get out of good old Shiso for a little bit. It turned out to be a pretty wonderful weekend overall. Mickie and I discovered yuzu white choco bagels in the bakery under her apartment (she has a wonderful apartment! ... check her out at shisopretty). We had dinner with Nami and Hiroshi. We walked with Lauren and Jimmy along streets lines with trees in their full autumn fire. This was almost by mistake, as it wasn't planned to be a fall foliage trip (though it was a lot more fun than last year's fall foliage Kyoto trip I took). Mickie also took me to Heian Shrine, and we went through the garden.

Heian Shrine garden

My camera was broken and in the shop for that weekend as well, but I discovered that my phone takes pretty decent pictures, so I got a few on there. I also managed to get a lot of Jimmy's photos.

The two temples I was able to visit on this trip were completely different places, and it's pretty amazing that they are so close together on the list and in the city.

The first was number 16, Kiyomizudera. One of the biggest and most famous temples in Japan, a must-see of Kyoto, and destination of countless tourists (both Japanese and international). Kiyomizu was having a nighttime light-up of the fall color; normally you can't get in after about 5pm, but for this event you could. It's great to see Kyoto from the Kiyomizu stage at night, with its lights below.

I wasn't even sure if the pilgrim stamp window would be open, but it didn't bother me too much to think it might not be.. Kiyomizu is another temple I've been to several times and will probably visit again. It's always beautiful, and always crowded, also. I daydream of going on a regular weekday, one day, when I don't have a job anymore.

Needless to say, the evening was full of people, and I did manage to get my seal somewhere in the mix. The lady at the window was surprised to see that I was actually in line for the right thing (I can recognize the kanji for the pilgrim stuff.. which is a good thing, because it's not well marked in English). We sort of pushed our way through, enjoyed the awesomeness of the beauty of the place and its incredible leaves (it's gorgeous), and then escaped back into the city in time for a late dinner with Nami.

Last time I was at this temple, I went through the pitch dark tunnel and drank from the spring that gives the place its name, but there are still a lot of little things around the grounds I haven't visited or tried yet, so I hope to next time I go up there.

The second temple that was visited the following day could not have been more different. As it was less overwhelming, I have more distinct memories attached to it. This was Kodo, temple 19 of the pilgrimage, the only one on the route run exclusively by nuns.

There's a small shrine to creative arts in the corner of the grounds, and this temple also is home to one of the shrines to Seven Lucky Gods (those 'seven dwarf' like creatures we see a lot). There were two old ladies in the front desk booth area, one with smart old-lady lipstick. As surprised as the lady at Kiyomizu was that I was in the right line, the lady here was shocked that I could understand her instructions on how to light my incense sticks.

All in all, the weekend was a beautiful gift!

The "fake" PEPY Ride and Engyoji again

2011-12-02T22:17:00.001+09:00

The bike ride got postponed for all-day rains on November 19th. The caused us to lose most of our ride population. Over the last few years, we've had around 17 or 19 people every time. This fall we had 6.

But for the one-day reprieve, I was secretly relieved. I was sick with a cold after KobeConference, and the last thing I wanted on Saturday the 19th was to drag my ass out of bed into the rain to lead a bike ride. So I happily did chores, laid around, coughed a lot, and did some work online on things on Saturday, and felt much more ready Sunday to take on Himeji Riiiide.

Unfortunately, I was camera-less even then, though I did have my phone (which takes, it turns out, fairly decent photos!), so I don't have a huge album of ride photos like I do from previous events.

From Himeji Ride November 2011

Honestly, with only 6, this was the smallest (and chillest) ride I've ever been on (or led). We biked in leisurely fashion from Himeji Station up to Shosha. Engyoji, the temple on top of Mt. Shosha, is the 27th temple of my pilgrimage. And to me, it felt like a real pilgrimage. At least much more than driving would have, anyway. Under my own physical power, I pushed up to that mountain. Climbed it too!

From Himeji Ride November 2011

Compared to other temples on the route, Engyoji is basically my backyard. I've been there many times before, and will likely go again; Engyoji is an old friend.

This time, I was armed with a little more information (thanks to sacredjapan.com) about the things I'd been seeing and wondering about for years, especially those images lining the path up the hill that we always climb. They are models of all the 33 images at the 33 Kannon temples of the pilgrimage!

For example, from a spring ride.

From Himeji Riiiiiide

The fall color was pretty nice, and it was Momiji Matsuri (Maple Festival), so a lot of buildings were open that are normally closed to public view. It was also 3-5-7 Day down in Himeji, so we got to see a lot of adorable children in their finest duds.

As we climbed the mountain, we saw the sacred hymn of this temple written on a rock about halfway up. The climb and bike ride combined pretty much killed my knee, but I've recovered by now.

Engyoji is temple 27 on the circuit, and it was my third stamp-and-seal attended temple. Unlike the other temples, where I was a guest and curious onlooker, at Engyoji I am a regular pro. I am shy at the other temples, but here I waltz right in and start chatting (silently) with Buddha. Engyoji, unlike the other temples, speaks back to me quickly and easily, the way you can shout a brief message to someone you know well as they hurry out the door, but it would be rude to do that to someone you just met. Engyoji, unlike the other temples, gives me a response and an injunction. I light my incense, take my message, ask my question, get my answer, and go on to finish leading my bike tour.

It was a gorgeous day, lots of sunshine, everything clean from the previous day's rain. I suppose I would call it more of a personal success than a fundraising goal-meeter, but that's how it sometimes goes.

A Walk in Uruka

2011-12-02T11:15:00.001+09:00

Well, it's been a while since I've written. At first, I decided it was because I didn't have anything to write about. Which is pretty much a lie. The other reason is that I haven't had time to, which is at least a little true.

I'm going to do a post soon about the autumn bike ride, which was also a pilgrimage stop for me, but today I'd like to just catch up on the little things.

So it's autumn. Unfortunately, my camera is in the shop (I am starting to regret the model I bought.. takes nice photos, but not tank-sturdy to survive life in my purse, apparently?), so I don't have a huge album of autumn leave shots. This year has been weird on that front anyway. It stayed warm far longer than usual, even though there were snaps of what felt like bitter cold, it's really not as chilly even today as December ought to be.

So the fall color has been a little off, a little spotty, a little confused and confusing.

Today, I don't have any classes, so I get to (gratefully) spend a day doing whatever I need to. Last night, I bought bus tickets to Kyoto at the Lawson's near where we have adult English class, and the attendant gave me the receipt but not the tickets themselves. So I had to go back today to get them. The difference there is, last night I had a car, this morning I came by bus.

So I shrugged, put on my jacket against the wind, and walked off to the convenience store. It's not really that far, and it was nice to walk. It's cloudy and sunny in stages, the wind affecting the change. I have things to do, but would rather not spend ALL day at my desk organizing, studying, and otherwise driving myself deskmad.

As I set off, I looked across the river and noticed some bursts of red and yellow on the far mountainside. That part of town is called Uruka, and I've never been over there before. So after I picked up my tickets, on the walk back, I crossed the Uruka bridge and took a stroll through that area, drawn by the beacon of the red maples on the hillside. I thought, maybe it's a momiji park, like the momiji mountain in Yamasaki.

Wervs in autumn

Uruka, it turned out, was just like any other section of Shiso. Idyllic, Shire-like, regal, dusty, faded, sparkling, worn-out, poor. Laundry out in the chill wind, old people occasionally going by on foot or bike. Dogs barking from behind stone walls. Small momiji and winter rose, yuzu trees, rice fields littered with trash both organic and not.

Yuzu are the yellow fruits.

I am drawn by momiji even more inexorably than I am by the sakura of spring, because I identify more with the autumn leaves. Sakura are pretty, but I feel like the maples are my siblings. I admire the beauty of the blossoms, but there is something even richer to me about the maturity of the momiji's "bloom."

What was important about this walk was the freedom that it required. I walked right out of school and down to Lawson, on an errand, a mission. The teachers knew I was headed there and even knew why (because when I left without my tickets, the Lawson staff called the school.. it's funny actually, because in buying the tickets I mistakenly thought I needed the help of the staff, and ended up with two people watching me handle the ticket machine myself. They good-naturedly asked me about my home and job, so that is how they knew I worked at this school, and were able to call the school and tell my teachers to tell me I needed to come get my tickets!).

But sometimes, even on non-class days, or non-class times of days, I feel chained to my desk, like there's nowhere I can go. But today I thought, if I wanted to, I could just pop into a little cafe, have a cup of coffee, read a book for an hour, and who would it hurt? Who would mind that? They didn't notice or mind that I was missing far longer than it takes to walk to Lawson (which is ridiculous in the first place-- who WALKS to Lawson from here?!) as I took my stroll through Uruka.

The trees, it turned out, are like many things in Japan, and just there, sort of in someone's yard, sort of just on the side of the mountain owned by no one.
It wasn't a park, or a shrine, or anything like that, although there was a temple nearby..

It's nice to get out, sometimes.

"Plz Send $$"

2011-11-21T15:54:00.001+09:00

I just discovered this online presentation creator (that kind of kicks the shit out of my beloved PowerPoint).

So I was trying to avoid making a poster about this and made a prezi instead.

Please enjoy!

Want Your Money

It's my first one, so if it looks like it was made by a monkey on drugs, I am sorry. I predict I will use it in the future to better effect.

This one is basically for my eikaiwa class Thursday night, and to pitch at anyone with more money than they need!

Em writes things...

2011-11-05T13:17:00.002+09:00

I have decided to try to do a little more networking between all the different things I write in different places. So, I'ma share this too!

You'll get some more on PEPY in the coming months...as we prepare to take a tour with them in Cambodia (as opposed to lead one in Himeji)!

PEPY Ride Hyogo (aka, the article I write like every six months to promote my bike ride event)

Flowers from the Dead

2011-11-02T10:38:00.004+09:00

I was going to write about these some time ago, then I totally forgot.

Things I like in Japan: the Death Flowers.

I like how this one came right through the crack in the pavement.

I'm not entirely sure whether they are flowers for the dead, or flowers from the dead. I think maybe they are flowers from the dead, rather, because of their timing, and the way they just appear seemingly uncultivated at the edges of things.

The edges of fields, for example.

I first saw them my first year, and when I pointed them out to Nami and told her I wanted to put some in a vase, she advised me not to give them to anyone, because they were connected with death! I later heard that they are called higanbana in Japanese, and that there may be a superstition about them involving fire as well.

Near the river rocks I just found in September.

You can read a touch more about them here; as for me, I was struck by their sudden, quiet ubiquity just around the time of the equinox. So they are associated with the death of a season, or because they line graveyards. But they line other things too, whether by accident or by design, I cannot say. They bloom along the edges of things, by paths and fields, the out of the way places where people do not dig or tread. They also look weird, these lilies opening their petals so far, they look inside-out as flowers.

More higanbana by the river.

And they seem like flowers from the dead, to me, because they crop up following the holiday season of Obon, the festival of the dead in Japan, where ancestors drop in for a visit, then are sent back to the spirit world. Graves are visited, cleaned, and rites are tended. A few weeks later, these flowers appear as if to say thanks for the nice party, we enjoyed it, and we got back home all good.

More higanbana, some of them fading, along the edges of a rice field.

Then as quickly and quietly as they appear, the flowers disappear. And summer is over, and fall begins.

I write things...

2011-10-31T08:46:00.000+09:00

Sometimes I write them and they go up on other websites.

Here's a fun story about how 6th graders are better at phonics than my JHS students!

http://www.hyogoajet.net/hyogotimes/2011/10/26/english-sensei-spirit-how-my-6th-graders-learned-to-spell/

Kagoshima by the Skin of my Teeth

2011-10-19T21:22:00.003+09:00

this is the last of the entries I wrote, or mostly wrote, on the train to Tokyo. It's the most fun of them, though! ^_^ Er. The most fun to read, not to experience.

October 7^th, 2011.

It was a three-day-weekend. One should know better.

I began my journey into well-paid-for hedonism by taking offwork early. The situation was nearly perfect: with four morning classes, thenlunch, I should be basically free to go once lunch was finished on Fridayafternoon. I would have been, but for speech contest practice all the damntime. But, begging out of that, and giving my heartfelt yoroshikus to those incharge, I slipped off while the third years took their tests in what would havebeen, for me, a post-lunch fog of dreadful sleepiness.

Having left work early, I enjoyed enough time to finishpacking and preparing my house for departure, distracted only a bit by there-Japanated Miriam.

She is only a little distracting.

On a good day, it takes 45 minutes to get to Himeji, so Imade sure I had at least an hour and 15. I wanted to be on the 4:30 bus to theairport, although since domestic flying in Japan suggests you check in at least20 (twenty) minutes before your flight is scheduled to leave, I figured that in a pinch, the5:30 would get me there at 6:50, which was just enough time for my 7:15 flightto Kagoshima City.

Oh, naivety.

I made great timeuntil about halfway up the bypass highway, when I met traffic so hideous, itdrove me to exit and try my hand at the surface roads instead. Riddled withstoplights, they were not much better. I watched 4:30 arrive but blocks fromthe bus station, aware that I still had to park and walk to the gate anyway.Shit. Oh well, there was still the 5:30.

I parked in the cheap section and dragged myself and my bagto the bus terminal. 4:48. Fuck it, I thought, I’ll go have a donut and eatthis banana I carried along with me for some reason. The donut was subpar. Isat around for a bit, took a call about speech contest skit preparation from myformer vice principal, and sat around a bit more before I heard some kind ofannouncement regarding airport buses. I couldn’t understand enough of it toknow what was going on, but I did see that my bag was the only one in theairport bus line. It was 5:15 I poked my head out the door to see if I couldsee the airport bus, worried that the announcement had said “Well if thereisn’t anyone who wants to take the airport bus, we ain’t sendin it!” No, it wasfar worse than that.

An oldish bald dude appeared as if from nowhere, and askedme where I was going. When I said Itami, he asked me what time my flight wouldbe. He did all this in more than passably good English. I told him 7:15 and hesaid regretfully, “I don’t think you can take your flight. The highways arevery crowded.” Well no shit, I had seen that myself in attempting to make it toHimeji on time. Of course. “You should take the shinkansen,” he said, “that isthe best way. Only take shinkansen.” I thanked him and went outside to try tocall my Wervs, in distress over the idea of spending 200 bucks on a shinkticket to Kagoshima when I’d already thrown 110 on a flight thinking I was saving money by doing so.At this point I was wondering, should I even go? Was it worth it, after a weeklike the one I’d had, and before the week I knew was to come? Was this a signthat I should just give in and take a damn rest for goodness sake?

I didn’t have her number in my phone, so I texted herinstead with a plea that she give me a call.

But then it dawned on me that the little old man might havebeen talking not about taking a shink to Kagoshima, but rather to Osaka, andfrom there getting myself to the airport via train. Trains run at the samespeed no matter how road traffic is going. With this revelation, I lookedaround to ask him, but he had vanished as mysteriously as he had appeared.

I power-walked to the train gate at Himeji station and askeda train guy what the fastest way to Itami was, and how long it might take. Hegave me a wishy-washy answer that amounted to, I’m not sure you’ll get there assoon as you want to.

I dithered for exactly one minute more, then thought, fuckit, I will be way more upset if I don’t at least try my best to get my ass onthat plane. I can deal with whether or not to take a shink to Kagoshima andspend a ton of extra money once I have really missed my flight, because Ihaven’t really missed it yet.

And thus began my training for the hit TV show, The Amazing Race.

I bought a nonreserved ticket from a machine and hotfootedit to the platform, taking the first Nozomi to come down the track. I was on myphone’s browser for the entire duration of the half-hour ride, figuring outexactly how to get from Shin-Osaka to the airport. Turns out, you have to takethe subway from Shin-O, then connect to the monorail from the subway.

Thing is, connections never mean you hop off one train andonto the other. Usually they involve walking through a station, then through atunnel or walkway of indeterminate length, then into a new station, where youwait on a platform for the next train to come. It takes way longer than anyone(I) ever reckons because all that time, one is in motion; so while time spenton a train is felt as time passing, time spent moving to a train is less easilyfelt.

But I knew, this time, that it would be there, and would make all thedifference. So I jogged from the shink/JR area all the way across Shin-O (whichI quite thankfully know rather well by now) station and to the red subway line,bound for the outskirts of the city. I never got a seat on any of the trainsthat came after, but that’s how weekend (especially long weekend) travel is. Itexted Wervs to tell her it was giri-giri (going to be close!).. Then I jogged (with allmy shit on my shoulders, mind you) from subway station to monorail station, afarther jaunt than I liked. Then I basically bolted down the walkway from themonorail to the airport doors, aware that by then it was 7:00 and my flight was leavingin fifteen minutes, and holy shit.

I ran haplessly past a lit sign that proclaimed the check-infor my flight was officially closed and called out to a woman who looked likeshe was on her way somewhere. “To Kagoshima!” I whimpered, helpless against themotion of time.

“Do you have a reservation?” she asked, moving toward acheck in counter, “Do you have ID?” I basically threw my driver’s license ather as I shifted my bags. “Is this okay for carry-on luggage?” I asked, stillpanting, still sweating.

“It’s fine,” she confirmed, “gate 23, go!”

The line at security was too long for me to wait in. Ishowed my “hi, my plane leaves in ten minutes” boarding pass to someone nearthe line and she pushed me to the front, asking the pardon of people behind me,who nodded sagely, perhaps pitying, perhaps silently tsk-tsking this panting,sweaty foreign girl-child.

Once through security, I jogged the remaining length of theairport (because gate 23 was, for some reason, at the end of the entire thing)to find the tail end of the plane’s boarding line still being processed. Idropped into my airplane seat, wishing I could take off my shirt. Sincedomestic flying allows you to take along a water bottle (provided they take asmell of it, and why shouldn’t they, when you can take all those things on atrain and go to the same place?), I chugged some water and sent a quick text toWervs to tell her I had made it.

Having no checked baggage let me waltz out of the airport assoon as we landed, and I was one of the first in line awaiting the bus backtoward the city center. I stuffed a combini egg-salad-and-ham (yeah, I dunnoeither, Japan) sandwich into my face because in the mad dash I had had no timefor such trivial things as dinner. From there, Wervs met me and we took the busback to her apartment, where I plopped down onto her couch and passed out intooblivion.

So you would think that at this point, we were done. Wervshad it under control from here. Yeah, we thought that too.

We had reserved tickets on the 10am Toppy speed boat toYakushima. We figured if we left around 9, that should give us plenty of timeto get to the port and sort it all out and settle into our seats before theboat sailed. It was all going to be perfect: our hostel was right next to theport on the island, and we could rent a car just meters from the dock. It wasall going to be just. perfect.

So we got out of the house at 9, and we got the 9:10 bustoward the city and the port, and by 9:45 Wervs was getting antsy, but I wasold hat at this game by now, and I, without knowing exactly what bus stop wewanted, or exactly how far that busstop was from our current location, or thereafter exactly how far it was frombus stop to port, was convinced that we would make it. We would make it or…well, we would make it. The bus stop appeared. 9:50. Time to start joggingagain.

Wervs said, “there’s always one in a few hours.. and it onlytakes an hour longer on the water..” I began to jog. “I can’t run!” sheinsisted, her hiking boots hindering her. I didn’t know what to say to that. Imight have said “I’m sorry,” I might have said “I know,” but whatever I said, Ikept running, sure that if even just one of us made it to the counter by thewater, they would hold the boat long enough for both of us to climb aboard.

I kept glancing at my watch and what I saw there wasencouraging. It was only 9:55 and the port was in sight. We would make it tothe island in time to spend more than just the night there, today.

At the counter, Wervs presented the paper she’d printed outregarding our reservation. The woman began asking if we’d already paid for thetickets, and we explained we hadn’t, and wanted to pay her now.

If you didn’t pay forthem, she explained, they don’texist. She pointed to a line of kanji-ridden Japanese that must havespelled out what she said next. You haveto pay within 4 days of making the reservation, or it gets canceledautomatically.

We glanced at each other, then turned back to her. “Okay,that’s fine. Let’s buy new tickets.”

I’m afraid the 10amboat is sold out.

Naturally. Another exchanged glance. “So we’ll be on the 1pm?”

That one is also soldout.

A breath. The 3:15 would get us to the island aroundsundown, just in time to not do anything outside or see anything interesting.But what else could we do?

The next availableopening is the 3:15, she pointed out on the schedule, would you like a reservation there?

We readied our cash. Since we’d been getting round-triptickets, and our returning boat reservation had also been canceled, we had tosettle for the only open boat coming back on Monday, the 7am. If anyone cancels for the 1pm, we willnotify you and you can take those seats, she offered helpfully.

“That would be so great!” I enthused, shrugging some of therun-to-the-port sweat off my brow.

We shouldered our shit and began to back away from thecounter, but just then she called out to us again. Apparently, something waschanging.

There is anotherpossibility, it seemed like breaking news, there are two spots.. they are very narrow and uncomfortable. Butthese were the faces of two young women who did not give a crap about that, atthis point. All we wanted was to be on that boat. Let me perch atop my baggagein the aisle for all I care.

In the spot where they write the seat number on the ticket,she wrote something like “ho 2” and “ho 1” on ours, and an attendant jogged(yes jogged) us out to the dock to catch the boat as it was just about toleave.

The cabin attendant led us to our seats. One was the jumpseat in frontof the back door on the first floor; the other was the jumpseat in the back ofthe second floor. They were prettyuncomfortable, but I just couldn’t believe our good luck that there wereexactly two such fold-out fake chairs on the boat, and someone thought to letus use them. I wondered again if this was what it felt like to be on TheAmazing Race.

Add Wervs has a brighter, more open jumpseat; mine was wedged behind the last row of chairs on the first level.

From Kagoshima by the Skin

By 12:45 we were on the island. But… Yakushima has two majorport cities (I say that like they are major port cities.. they are the twoports on the island, and perhaps the two largest cities there). One isMiyanoura, location of our hostel and biggest little city on the place. Theother is Anbo.

Guess which one we're at.

From Kagoshima by the Skin

There was, however, an Orix up the road from the port, so webegan to walk. We passed a small rent-a-car company and paused, considering it,watching the old dude in charge set groups up with little k-cars. We thoughtmaybe the other place might be cheaper, so we began to haul our stuff in thatdirection. As soon as we came to anything even remotely like a hill, and myphone told us we still had a five minute walk ahead of us, I stopped toquestion the wisdom of this venture.

“If we rent from here, we can return it right here, next tothe port we’re leaving from Monday morning,” I reasoned, “so even if it’s a fewbucks more, I don’t mind paying for that kind of convenience.” Not after allwe’d been through.

So we went back. But now, most of the cars were gone fromthe lot. We watched as a group of five dudes too the last white-plate invisible range. The old guy looked us over, a bit wary. “So you got a Japaneselicense?” he asked. I proudly threw it on the counter, and was rewarded with a“subarashii!”

I pointed out the 48-hour rental rate and asked if that waswhat we’d get for a k-car. He said, wehave no cars left. This was no problem.. we could just go to Orix, althoughI was a little pissed that by wasting time, we’d let the nearest-to-Anbo-portcar rental get away. But before I could regroup, he went on, so we’ll give you a discount! He thenyelled to a younger guy walking around the tiny car lot, hey, clean up that car, would you? And thus we were given thecompany crap car, and at a discounted rate.

At this point, we were so happy to be in the island, andfree. We drove to Miyanoura and checked in, then spent the rest of the daylighthours exploring via the one main road that rings the island, about a three-hourdrive around, although we also made some stops. We stopped at a few overlooks,a couple beaches, and some waterfalls, and enjoyed the winding forest pathportion of this “main” road.

When we got back to the hostel, the dude there assured usthat the hike to Jomon-Sugi (the like 7000 year old tree) was indeed possible,if we woke up at about 5 and got our early. We didn’t even have to discussthat: not bloodly likely; we were going to take it easy (at this point that meant sleeping the hell in), because we were onvacation, dammit.

Sunday, we rolled out at our leisure to explore the hikingtrails of Shiratani, famed for being an inspiration to Miyazaki’s work Princess Mononoke.

Overall, I’m going to let the photos do most of the talkingfor me after this point. The island is pretty much amazing, and my only irritationswere that, because of that, it’s pretty popular, so the trails were kind ofcrowded (of course our timing has something to do with this as well). They dotake pretty good care of conservation up in there, though, and the sights weretotally breathtaking. Everything in that forest was alive. The trees were alive (even the dead ones), the rocks were alive, the moss and river and mud were all alive. I can see why the used to think of it as a forest full of gods.

At some point a guide-type guy told us that in the old days, when the rulers of Kagoshima used to get their cedar planking from Yakushima's forests, the island's forests were barred to women: only men, and I believe he said important men, were allowed in to work in the sacred space.

There are no photos of the onsen adventure on principal; Ifeel bad because it was wervs’ first onsen experience, and it was the mostcrowded naked space I have ever been in. I’m pretty comfy with onsen etiquetteby now, but it’s not the kind of place I would have wanted to be a first-timer.

And that's how I did Yakushima!

the results

2011-10-18T19:00:00.000+09:00

Just to update from speech contest:
I managed to deliver my model speech without much terror. To my disappointment, there was no translation provided to the student body, so I was mostly just up there speaking heartfelt foreign words to them. It sort of reminded me of my own graduation at which I realized, after the fact, that no one of my intended audience had even heard me. I directed my words for a very particular audience and that is not who got it. Zan-nen.

But as I mentioned before, I couldn't care once it was finished, because then it was finished!

The actual speech contest was its usual grind, a bit better in overall quality of speeches and speechmakers this year, but I think that last year's clear winner was a ringer, an anomaly, who would have beaten the whole bunch again. The places were harder to negotiate this year. Who was really the best?

Like I also may have mentioned, I once more went in thinking my kids had a fighting chance. I'm better at knowing what kind of thing goes into speech contest now, and I knew my kids better too. When we chose them, I remember how I was sitting, staring down at a desk, when our female-speech-student to be began her mini speech in class. Her pronunciation had something the others didn't have. She wasn't a ringer, but she wasn't bad. Even before coaching she had a certain vocal quality that allowed her to somehow not sound quite so Japanese, or something. The boy I had picked out at last year's graduation ceremony, but he was also duly chosen by process of elimination. His pronunciation wasn't great, but he was eager, and so highly trainable; his energy was really good, too, strong. Moreover, having seen him cry, I trusted him.

By the time the contest approached, I knew the speeches were solid, content-wise, because we went through a serious speechwriting period sometime near the end of summer. I mean, we weren't messing around. None of this "I Love my Club Activity" teamwork BS, none of this "I want to be a golfer when I grow up." EVERYONE does that stuff every year. We ended up with variations on "I am proud to be part of this class/student council" and "my dream is to be a doctor," but they were solid variations, with proper lead-ins and shit.

My JTEs pushed this initiative, and MP-sensei kept coming back to it again and again. Memorize this because it is what you wrote and want to say. I coached them on sentence pattern and word intonation, but when they asked about gestures, we said, use your judgement, you know what the words mean, use the gestures you feel comfy using to emphasize what points you need to emphasize.

I really liked that in all steps, she made them do the work. When we were finalizing writing, she asked them both "What is your main point?" so we could make sure the speech was grounded in it and returned to it by the end. She asked them near the end of rehearsing, "What sentence or two is most important? And how will you make sure you show that?" So they each had a sentence near the end (their main point sentence, as it were) that they punctuated with louder voices, and fist pumps, etc.

They were good. I had no idea, though, what kind of potential ringers were lurking in the other schools, so I was cautiously optimistic. I cheerfully told the kids that I expected a one-two finish, with speech boy first and speech girl second. But, of course, I would be just as happy with her first and him second, I added.

I kind of did that to make sure she never felt like I was selling her short. To be totally honest, I did favor him, but didn't want to make that obvious. He had a better stage presence, and I knew the one thing that might destroy her chance of placing was her nerves. He seemed to have nerves of steel, and even though her pronunciation was better, I figured his energy and volume, along with the way I knew he wouldn't freeze onstage, would lead him to at least place. I hoped they both would.

Our positions in competition were 5th and 15th, so we sent steel-nerves boy to 15th to sweat it out and let her take 5th to get it over with sooner. When she went up to speak I was excited to hear how it would go. She got on that mic and was, for one thing, louder and more energetic sounding than I thought any of the first 4 had been. She absolutely fuckin' killed it. My jaw dropped as she plowed right through her speech with no memorable mistakes of any kind. She did better in the real thing than she had done in the most recent practices I'd seen.

I was thrilled. I looked over the previous speeches to see if I could remember any that had done better. Lots of kids had done rather well, and part of my joy was in seeing her do so well and overcome the things I thought might hold her back. I could not objectively rate her against the other students, so I just allowed myself to think she had kicked everyone's ass. Once the first half ended, I told her as much, and then grinned at our speech boy and told him he better watch out or she would beat him.

When he did his speech, I was beaming throughout. He brought it, and the other ALTs were admitting as much after the contest ended. I expected him to be that good, though, so I was just plain pleased that it had gone so well. I was proud of them both and figured they both deserved to place, at least, even if they didn't both end up getting it. After that, we did our role-reversal skit, in which a few students were the Japanese teachers, and we ALTs the students (terrible students, generally speaking, just for fun). The kids enjoyed that, as did the teachers.. got more comments on that than on my model speech (tear).

So then the judges came back, and in Japanese they announced third place(s) and then second, then first. They said it all so quickly after deliberating for so long that I wasn't sure I'd heard them properly.

This is what happened.

That's my speech boy with the second place plaque, and my speech girl, with the cup. Not only did we place, we got our one-two finish, and even with the mini-reversal I'd refused not to mention as possible. I'm very proud of them and all their hard work, and I'm very pleased that in this, my third and final year, we took home BOTH the plaque AND the cup.

From 2011_10_18

Fuck yes, I say.

"The Difference"

2011-10-18T10:38:00.000+09:00

Well today is speech contest day. I've been really, really busy. You might be thinking to yourself, she can't be that busy, or she wouldn't have crafted such lovely photo-complimented blog posts and put them up within the last two weeks. Well, thank you for your kind words, but no seriously, I only wrote those because I was on shinkansen for hours and hours, and those kings of transport have electric outlets where you can plug in your devices.

Because my computer has begun informing me that my battery is "reaching the end of its usable life." Whatever that means is something I intend to deal with later. I have intended to deal with a lot of things later. A few of them got done on the train (I wrote those two entries and more, but the last is unfinished) or the bus or what have you.

Today is speech contest, the big event, what we've been preparing for these last few weeks, and I don't mean just my speech contestants (although I do, bless their hearts), but also the skit kids, and me, and the ALTs, oh and model speech (which I will type out for you, from memory, after this brief intro writing of mine). I'm actually kind of pleased with how the model speech turned out, although I despaired after my initial excitement, that I had too many things I wanted to say, that none of them were appropriate or comprehensible. What eventually came out of it was something that is about 40% crap and 60% awesome, so I'll settle for those stats. I have no idea how good the translation into Japanese is. I have my doubts, from looking over the page, but I'm hopeful, and also after this point, I can hardly care. Up or down, win or lose, it will be, oh thank God, over.

All that prep, all those evenings of staying late.. the pansies I bought that are still in little plastic containers because I was quite literally never home when it was light outside enough to do anything with them.

I like that image, of a battery that is used and recharged, used and recharged, but eventually it needs to just be replaced. Because it may seem small, the idea of an hour here, an hour there, staying late, missing one little thing, running to catch your transportation. But all those things add up. I think of being a JET sort of like having that battery. It gets drained all to hell sometimes, like this month, and then gets recharged, yeah, and it'll do, but it works less and less well, until such time as you need a major shift or change in your life. Some people upgrade regularly, but others can become stuck in a life pattern that never changes, and that's more my type. I won't get a new smart awesomephone until my old one actually ceases to function..!

Lately, I've had very little patience for anyone, including myself, and have been overly emotional when listening to Disney songs. I think about things while driving (since I can't bus and read) and have strange dreams at night. I can't wait to return to "normal" because I like the person I become better when I can be nicer to others (because I'm not so preoccupied trying to be nice to myself-- I do have to work at this, and when it becomes a priority, it's a lot harder to take care of anyone else, because shit, son, I'm a handful!)

ANYWAY! Today is the first day in a very long time I've not had a full schedule of classes (or been away on business) at work. I have no classes. And while I know it is frustrating and annoying to go to work each day and not have anything to do, I personally like these days now and then, to just sort of catch up, so I'm not clinging to the last edge of my sanity while crafting the crappiest of lesson plans at 6pm when I'm still at work on a Tuesday night.

I joked that it meant I could use the morning class periods to FREAK OUT ABOUT--haha, I mean "get ready for" speech contest, but honestly I won't get nervous until it's upon us, so all morning I'll just... do what I gratefully do with any given morning. Write, think, pace, try to get on top of the stuff I've let go in a big way, try to stay on top of the stuff I couldn't afford to let go.

My model speech is long, as has been noted by lots of people, but I have memorized it all, and fairly well. I paced around outside until that happened. How well I'll be able to keep it when standing on the stage remains to be seen, but I am sure that with my page in front of me to glance at surreptitiously, I will be able to give the appearance of knowing it excellently. And now, because I know you're dying of curiousity to know what today's model speech will say.

It's called "The Difference"

It seems like people are always asking me, do you have suchandsuch in your country? No matter what they are asking about, my answer is almost always the same. Yes, but it's different there.

Everyone wants to know what is different about a foreign place. My family back in America is amazed by some of the stories that I tell about how life is different in Japan. They want to know about Japanese toilets and Japanese festivals and Japanese hierarchy systems and Japanese food. Things that are different catch our attention, because they are more exciting and interesting.

People in Japan also want to know what is different about life in the US. Sometimes they are amazed by what I say. My school did not have uniforms, we didn't clean the classrooms ourselves, and we could eat snacks in class sometimes, if the teacher didn't mind. We never practiced for sports day, and we got to choose our lunches. Students moved from classroom to classroom, instead of teachers. Even though I didn't live in the city, there were 750 students at my JHS, and we rode the big yellow bus to school. But these are all examples of things American students do. This does not say who they are.

It is important to understand what is is different, but it is also important to keep in mind what is not. Because teenagers, whether they live in Japan or America, still want to be cool, and are afraid of being rejected. And people, no matter where they live, still want to matter and to do something meaningful with their lives. Families still love their children, and children still need their families. This is true not only in Japan, and in America, but everywhere in the world.

When people in Japan look at me, they can see right away that I am different. It takes a lot more effort to find out how like them I may be. If they only look at the surface, they will only see the difference. But if they open their minds and hearts, they can see what kind of person I may be, whether I am funny or serious, laid-back, or strict. Not everyone is what they seem to be at first-- for example, even though no one in Japan or America will ever think that I am Japanese, I'll tell you a secret. Inside my heart, because I lived in Shiso, I will always be a little bit Japanese.

What is most important to people is the same for everyone. We share in common our hopes and our fears, our happiness and worries, even if our actions and ways of dealing with them are not alike. That is why communication between cultures is possible, and that is also why it is important. The reason we need to discover what is different between cultures is so that we can discern what we have in common as people, therefore, what is most human.

Students in the US and students at Ichinan may be different, but we are all part of the human family. I encourage you to open your mind to people who seem at first to be very different from you. Although we are all unique, we are also all connected. When you understand this, you can truly appreciate the difference for what it is, and what it is not.
Thank you.

Imakumano Kannon-ji

2011-10-15T21:04:00.000+09:00

Temple number 15, and for me, number two.

West Country Number 15

From the Eastern Edge

a month and four days in

New Year's and The Next Beginning

Angkor Who?

Other New Year

Sights and Sounds in Siem Reap

Into Siem Reap

The Village

South East Asia December 2011: The Beginning

and then

from the edge of something else

And Now For Something Completely Different

Eve

nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior

Semi-Blind

Merry Me a Little

Temple Two For One: Kyoto City (Again)

The "fake" PEPY Ride and Engyoji again

A Walk in Uruka

"Plz Send $$"

Em writes things...

Flowers from the Dead

I write things...

Kagoshima by the Skin of my Teeth

the results

"The Difference"

Imakumano Kannon-ji

Kansai by the Seat of my Pants

Faking It

The Ponderous Overload of the Uj

The Ponderous Return of The Uj (as in "usual")

Being Spared Does Not Make You An Asshole;

This Post Has No Photos; Camera's In the Rice Bin

SummerSonic

Not Without

Five Dollars Off Culture Shock

that just happened

Summertime and the Living is Easy

Some More Acdemics

Two Weeks

Some academic stuff:

The Dream Recurs

Secret Perks of Speech Contest

You're So Jozu With Those Hashi

Plum Wine

extra long weekend

Weight Heavy

Omizutori

Plum Rain