M X V = GRR

One thing a blog is for is to vent, which is just a euphemism for whining. And that is exactly what I plan to do on this post, you`ve been warned.

While riding my bike to the station this morning I hit some ice. The next thing I know my hip and elbow hit pavement with the force of my mass times my acceleration, or some equation that equals the square root of a very bad morning. It was about 7:42, I had rolled out of bed at about 7:20 and was trying to catch a 7:47 train. And I'm from south Texas so I guess I wasn't in the right state of mind to look for ice on the road. So there I was, Monday morning, I had only been up for about 20 minutes and I was lying on a sheet of ice on a road in Ishinomaki, Japan looking at my toppled bike five yards in front of me with the wheel still spinning. I got up quick because a car was coming and started walking my bike to the station with a limp and no time to lose. That's when the self-pity starting coming on in waves.

...It wouldn`t have been so bad if I didn`t gash my arm and bruise my hip, which wouldn`t have been so bad if I didn`t have to walk over a mile to work from the station, which wouldn`t have been so bad if I didn`t miss breakfast because of the fall, which wouldn`t have been so bad if, during the walk, I didn`t have to brood over the fact that I ripped my brand new REI poly pro tops, which wouldn`t have been so bad if I didn`t rip my brand new button-up shirt, which wouldn`t have been so bad if I didn`t rip my brand new Aigle fleece-lined gloves, which wouldn`t have been so bad if I didn`t rip my brand new North Face jacket.

A man doesn't truly fall until he does so in his nicest clothes.

OK, thanks for listening, I feel better now. Thank God for blogs, but ice on pavement can go melt in hell.

Mr. and Mrs. Claus

Santa is real and living in Houston, Texas under the alias Mr. and Mrs. O`Hair.

I awoke Sunday morning to the sound of a Japanese postman (one of Santa`s little helpers) knocking on my door. He was resting a rather large box against the wall outside my door, panting heavily. I signed for it and went at it with a knife while the door was still closing. Under bundled newspaper were all my individually wrapped Christmas presents. Green bows with red and white wrapping paper; they were the brightest, most colorful things in the room and seemed to glow in the curtained light of morning. I was immediately presented with a dilemma. Should I wait until Christmas or submit to my growing anticipation? I had built up momentum by feverishly ripping into the box because, as everyone knows, opening presents is like falling down stairs, you just keep going until there are none left.

How often are you rewarded after destroying something? Such is the highly satisfactory act of demolishing a package and finding a gift in the aftermath. And so I longed to claw into them one by one until all the pretty paper was in one crumpled pile and all the gifts in another.

But I resisted. I carefully stacked all the gifts in the corner under a beautifully adorned but invisible tree. After setting them in the most aesthetic arrangement, big ones on bottom and the smaller ones leaning or stacked on top without disturbing any bows, I backed up and sat on my bed without taking my eyes off the pile of shimmering temptation in the corner of my apartment. I made breakfast, I cleaned a little and I tried to read but all the while the gifts shinned and beckoned me like the ring did Frodo.

But the day is long and my will weak. Human nature set in and I justified that the wrapping paper concealed some very warm clothes that I would surely require before December 25th. Needless to say, Christmas came early this year. Thank you mom and dad, I love y`all! MERRY CHRISTMAS AND GOD BLESS!!!

Correction please!

I`ve recently discovered the simple pleasure of reading bizzare English sentences while grading papers. I teach five writing classes and in each I`ve set up a pretend pen pal exchange where I type up a letter from a made-up American high school student named Peter, pass them out and then the students write a letter to Peter covering the same content that Peter wrote about. We`ve covered topics like family, friends, home town, likes and dislikes ect... and, needless to say, things have been....lost in translation. Here are a few examples of my students` fine work. Imagine yourself with red pen in hand:

1. My best friend`s name is Ichiro. He is a great baseball player in the world.

Hmm, technically, that is true.

2. My classroom teacher is Mr. Kimura. We call him ``Kimura`` he have pasion. We love him. But, he love running than us. hollow.

Umm, should I report this?

3. I have many family and a little friend. I`m happy. Do you?

4. I`m so sorry. I have no friends, and family too. Because I love alone. I`m so sorry. ALL things is lie.

Well no wonder you love alone.

5. I love my town because it has a old chapel. Please tell me about your lover and your date plan.

An old chapel? How lewd.

6. And CRAZY friend Syuei is a baseball player. He like girl. He heir bouzu. He is alone. I think he is pity.

I once had a friend. He heir bouzu too. It was so sad.

7. My father works for a build house company. And my mom is a baby shitter.

Ooo, how much does she charge?

8. My father, Kei, works for a secret.

Shh...

Open Ended

I can't say how many times I've been asked about why I came to Japan. But it's been enough times to develop a well rehearsed response that covers everything from wanting to teach abroad to having an interest in Japanese culture. But, as often as I can I try to boil things down to definitive moments, and just recently I was able to pinpoint a specific experience that might have landed me across the Pacific in Ishinomaki, Japan.

I was at a sushi bar at the back of the Texas Union building on the UT campus. While choosing my lunch I watched the chef clean. He folded a damp rag and, with the utmost care and both hands, slid the rag across the preparation counter. When the rag reached the other end he moved it foward the length of the rag and slid it back across. He repeated this motion with a slow, precise rhythm. When his rag found debris he wiped it into a catching dish on one end of the counter with a surgeon's mastery. He seemed unconcerned with the passing of time and fully concerned with the perfection of his duty. He seemed to stretch the moment and fill it only with what mattered to him, however menial the task. It had been a stressful week and I could feel my blood pressure drop as I watched.

I don't know if this experience gave me any tangible goal or ethereal feeling to chase by coming to Japan, I don't even know if the chef was Japanese (most Japanese restuarant staff in Austin are Korean). As with most moments like these it came and went before I could fully understand why or how it affected me. So, I'm still a little hesitant to answer the question, "Why did you come to Japan?" with "Because I'm interested in the culture and, oh yeah, I saw a sushi chef stop time with a damp rag."

The only way I can make sense of this experience is to contrast it with another. I went to an island called Kinkasan with other ALTs a few weeks ago. With immaculate landscapes where tame deer and monkeys roam free this place is, quite simply, a fantasy land. Temples, waterfalls, emerald lawns and old growth pines fill the island. It is nature condensed and magnified, Asia's Eden. A person can easily find himself at peace with nature in a place like this. Or, a person can easily scare nature away and get attacked by it in a place like this.

The Japanese visitors to the island seemed to experience Kinkasan without disturbing it, whereas we were a pack of boisterous gaijin tramping around the island. When the Japanese fed the deer it appeared as natural as if the deer were feeding from bushes. When we fed the deer we were mauled by the deer. When the Japanese approached a temple they did it in silent reverence. We lounged on the temple steps and took group photos. When the Japanese walked the trails monkeys crossed their paths. When we saw the monkeys we ran toward them yelling "Monkeys!", needless to say, no monkeys crossed our paths.

...I've tried to end this post a few different ways and each seemed increasingly trite or sentimental, so nothing says it best like nothing at all. Or, maybe I'll end it with a lesson in Japanese, the word "baka" means "stupid." And "uso" means "lie"...these are the words you learn when you date a Japanese woman...oh yeah, I'm dating a Japanese woman. Her name is Keiko...pics coming soon.

Karaoke killed the video star

Some ALTs and I went to a karaoke bar a few weeks ago, and yes, there's footage. The link is on the right, turn your volume way up and enjoy.
Warning: watch the videos only if you are prepared to have the songs "Rolling Stone", "Hit me baby one more time" and "Bulls on Parade" completely and irrevocably ruined for you.

Disclaimer: "Hit me baby one more time" was chosen for me, and....well nevermind, there's no excuse.

There's also a link to another video my neighbor made of my apartment and around Ishinomaki (my town). That link's called: Annie's Ish Documentary.

Also, there are pics galore at www.miyagijet.com under "photos site." There's a link for that too. (The link might not work for some reason)

The parents on the bus go "chug, chug, chug."

The words “bad”, “wrong” and “no” are all rolled up into one easy-to-say Japanese power word. If you ever want to express pure, unwavering negative sentiment while asserting rude aggression just say “Dame!”

That being said, I went on a PTA trip last weekend. Parents, teachers and one little gaijin* piled onto a bus at 8 am Saturday morning for a two hour road trip to Iwate Prefecture to go to a “Stained Glass Park”, a sake (alcohol) museum, and a river boat tour. We hit the road and a stewardess poured a couple of cases of beer into a cooler and started handing out microphones while TVs dropped down from the ceiling. “Oh no” I thought, these are all the ingredients for karaoke. I turned to the teacher next to me and, half kidding, I asked if there’s going to be karaoke on the bus. “Of course” he said but he meant to say “What bus trip would be complete without karaoke, duh.” But, it was apparently too early for that just yet, but not too early to crack open beers and give self-introductions over the loud speaker…They saved karaoke for the bus trip back: two straight hours of bad singing and non-stop clapping in very close quarters, I wanted to commit seppuku*.

But, long story short, we carved glass at the park, drank and ate at the sake museum and went on an amazing river boat tour through soaring purple rock canyons dense with bamboo jungles. Guides steered our longboats by pushing against the river bottom with long wooden poles while telling stories and singing traditional Japanese songs. The boat had tatami mats instead of benches so all thirty passengers took off their shoes and sat on the deck. Dozens of colorful two foot coy followed the boats as we fed them. It was serene and beautiful in a way I can’t describe.

But, this is Japan and parents were drunk so hilarity was bound to ensue. There was only one father that went on the trip and I guess he had something to prove in the way of drinking, because he drank…a lot. He passed out on the river boat and challenged nature's serenity with the low grumble of his snores. But, about an hour before the boat ride and his alcohol induced slip into unconsciousness we were all eating lunch at the sake museum while he, on the other hand, was drinking his lunch. He was sitting next to me and, in broken English, he offered me his daughter, which by the way, was something even the more sober parents did. I asked him questions about his daughter and as the conversation continued we slowly drew the attention of the rest of the group. Right when all heads were turned to our end of the table he says, "My daughter is fat, is it ok?" "Umm, well…" I say and look around at all the eager faces around me, "I don’t really, uhh…" But, then I remembered the novel Shogun by James Clavell, it taught that in Japan one must show resolve, strength and assertiveness or else get one’s head chopped off by samurai. So I straightened by back, locked eyes with the man and sternly said, "Dame fat girls."

There was a moment of silence and a collective inhale from the group as everyone waited for the father’s reaction. His eyes squinted slightly at me. But then he burst out laughing and clapped. "Dame fat girls!" he repeated. The rest of the group finally exhaled and laughed with him.

I don’t know if I earned their reverence or just tarnished my courteous image but, after that, no more parents offered me their daughters. And I didn’t get my head chopped off by samurai, thank you James Clavell.

PS

A word to the wise, don’t say “dame fat girls” in Mexico because you’d be saying, “give me fat girls”…unless of course you actually want fat girls.

PPS

*Gaijin = foreigner...namely, me.

*Seppuku, also known as hara kiri, is the suicidal ritual that samurai performed when they were shamed or when avoiding capture...or when karaoke on a bus became too much to bear.

This story is only "a device that is very useful for a particular job."

Almost everyday at my base school (Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays) this stout, nervous little man siddles up to my desk and asks me a question about English. He stands almost directly over me and slowly stumbles through his questions. I watch his mouth tremble and beads of sweat pool up and drip past his receding hairline while he tries to talk to me. It's the most akward, uncomfortable part of my day. I don't mind being asked questions, I just don't want the poor guy to have an aneurysm.

But what makes it even more uncomfortable is that he usually presents his questions in the form of a test. Like, one day he stuttered,
"Will you meet me outside the office at p.m. 2."
"Umm, what?"
"Will you meet me at p.m. 2?"
"Do you mean 2 p.m."
"Ahhh! 2 p.m., that's right."
And he smiled, giggled and went back to his desk. It's as if he's testing english, and it pleases him when he gets the expected results. He already knows the answers but, like a scientist, he wants to observe the answer take place. So, I think of these interactions with him not as the answering of his questions but rather his oppurtunities for little english experiments. I am the subject upon which he tests his english hypotheses.

The other day, I found him suddenly standing over me sweating on cue. He asks,
"Can I have two dolls?"
"Two -- dolls?"
"Yes, may I have two dolls?"
"Hmm, do you mean two dollars?"
"Yes! Two doll-lars. Ha!"
But this time, in addition to his experiment he had a story about being in Canada and misunderstanding someone that asked him for two dollars. He had thought they were asking for two dolls. After telling his story I told him that I enjoyed it, and he says,
"Oh no, it was only a gizmo."
I was a little caught off guard. "Sorry your story -- was a what?"
He sweats bullets and trembles uncontrollably. "Ehh, a gizmo, ehh, in a car, eh, lighter...dashboard, ehh, compass..."
I explained the correct use of the word "gizmo" right before his head exploded.

In some literary stretch of the word, perhaps, "gizmo" could mean unimportant or trivial, but I'm here to promote good english not grant poetic liscense or make polite allowances. So, sorry little guy, this experiment failed; you need to rethink your gizmo hypothesis.

Psst, what did you get for #4?

I came back to my desk after teaching a class to find a worksheet that accidentally made its way from a JTE's desk to mine. At the top of the page are directions in Japanese and below are ten sentences in English. I read number 1: Takashi likes the movie and then number 2: You play tennis. OK, this content seems normal and applicable enough...but I read on. Number 3: The storm damaged many houses in this neighborhood. Alright, it`s getting a little violent but its still reasonable; then I read number 4: The car kills my girlfriend.
I know I can`t survive for long in an English speaking country without these key phrases. But, apparently, even in survival English there can be casualties.

PS

JTE = Japanese Teacher of English

My treasure

So I was standing in front of a class last week listening to the JTE explain english grammar rules in Japanese when he turns to me and asks if I've learned any interesting Japanese. The best thing I could come up with is that I know how to write "sushi" in Kanji. So I turn to the board and wrote it impressing the students to no end. And, ever since my self-introduction, students give me "the horns" for almost any occassion so a few students put their horns up, but they had their thumbs out. So I corrected them, and then went on to explain what a longhorn is. So, I started drawing a Texas Longhorn on the board and a student said something and everyone laughed. The teacher explained that they were laughing because my drawing, thus far, looks like "your treasure" and, with both hands, pointed at his crotch.
Through a laugh I tried to explain that it was a kind of cow and a student called out "bull!" "Yes" i said, "very good" and I wrote "bull" under the Texas Longhorn. Again, the class laughed and the teacher turns to me and says, "They're wondering how big your treasure is." The class goes silent in anticipation of my answer. There's a long akward pause. "Well" i say while pointing at the board, "like a bull's."
Some students laughed and others put up their horns.

As easy as post

Posting comments is no longer something you wished you could do but didn't have the time or patience to set up a blog account. Anyone can now post thanks to the advice of my much more blog savvy neighbor and fellow ALT, Annie.

Nothing to do with Japan

Hey everybody, this has nothing to do with Japan except that sometimes I have a lot of time on my hands at work to surf the web. Type into google--your name + needs. So, for me its: ``Matthew needs`` and you get some very amusing sentences. Here are some of mine:

1. Matthew needs an excorcism.
2. Matthew needs an adoptive family with a positive male role model.
3. Matthew needs to double his fluid intake and drink way more than any normal child would drink.
4. Matthew needs a loving home with lots of good direction to help him reach his goal of being a magician some day.
5. The truth about Matthew needs to be known
6. Matthew needs your help!
7. All Matthew needs is a little imagination.

I would like to thank Ashley T. for giving me this invaluable tool to obtain priceless insight into what I need in my life.

I'm crazy about...

A day of class was devoted to learning the phrase "I'm crazy about...", which is strange in and of itself, but what made it funny was the example the textbook gave was "I'm crazy about Leonardo DiCaprio."

We do this thing in class called Chorus Reading where I read the example dialogue outloud in a very slow, clear, loud and sometimes sickeningly positive voice to get the students to repeat. So, here I am in class walking up and down the aisles practically yelling, "I'm crazy about Leonardo DiCaprio!" You'd be surprised, yelling that phrase at 40 Japanese high school students is a strangely cathartic experience, and after 14 classes you almost start to believe it...yeah, you know, maybe I am crazy about Leonardo DiCaprio, he was great in What's Eating Gilbert Grape. But if you think yelling it was strange, hearing 40 students yell that phrase back at you a few dozen times is what gave me the sudden urge to rent Titanic.

I wonder if there is a class of non-english speakers somewhere in the world yelling, "I'm crazy about Gary Busey"?

Rike my job? Not rearry.

I was at my desk while my supervisor and fellow teacher,Utsumi-sensei, was frantically grading papers. Out of the blue she turns to me and says...

Utsumi-sensei: Mashew-sensei, do you think Japanese teachers enjoy teaching students?
Me: Uhh, well, it seems like they do...
Utsumi-sensei: Do you think we like to be a teacher?
Me: Umm, generally it seems like teachers have a good attitude about-
Utsumi-sensei: We don't enjoy teaching students. I don't enjoy teaching. I will stop teaching in seven to eight years.
Me: Oh...how long have you been teaching?
Utsumi-sensei: I teach for 18 years. It's very hard work, we don't enjoy it. We have to work many hours, I come in Saturday, Sunday. Now, you just starting, now, it is your turn.

Please allow myself to introduce...myself.

I have now given my fifty minute self introduction nine times in the past five days in my slowest and clearest english to nine different classes, each with forty confused, expectant japanese students. My presentation consists of me introducing myself and my very condensed life story, then I play an example of Texas country music on my ipod speakers, and I sing "The Eyes of Texas" while the UT band plays in the background, I try to hackie-sac and then ask for a volunteer to try and then I have the students play a hot-potatoe type game where the student caught holding the hacki-sac after a quarter stops spinning has to make an english sentence using atleast one word from a list of vocabulary words on the blackboard, and finally, I show them pictures from home if there is enough time. Peppered among the good students are class clowns that repeat everything I say in their best anecdotal American accents, there are also overworked sleepers that can't seem to lift their heads for more than thirty seconds at a time, and straight-backed stoics that cower if I so much as look at them let alone call on them, all with a VERY limited english comprehension ability. After performing nine times and having to keep audiences like these enthralled and focused I now know how it feels to be a heckled teaching performing foreign clown who is, often, utterly incoherent to his audience. But, I have fun with it and I think I get through to them at times.

Also, I've given a speech in Japanese at both of my schools in front of all the staff and students, which was a surreal experience to say the least. Imagine standing in a utterly quiet gym with about 600 people that don't speak your language and you're the only westerner they have any direct or indirect contact with. You patiently sit next to the principle while he speaks Japanese into a microphone and then you hear him say "A.L.T. blah blah Mashew-sensei blah blah blah Mashew-sensei." So you know it's your turn to speak. You walk with the principle up to the stage as every girl covers her mouth and giggles and every boy whispers and all you can make out is "Mashew-sensei, Mashew-sensei." The principle speaks again and this time you hear "blah blah Texas" and there is a low rumble of approval from the students because, our arrogance in our state is finally justified, Texas is famous worldwide. Then, once again you hear "Mashew-sensei" and the principle beckons you to speak. After stumbling through sounds without meaning, wa ta shi wa...de su...ka ra...ki ma shi ta...yo ro shu o ne ga i shi ma su, there is a roar of applause from the students and, as the only white male to walk these halls since...ever, you have offically achieved super star status. Now, you can no longer go anywhere without hearing your name, title and a laugh-filled "Herro, guuto morningu" from students. You are now the biggest thing to hit this school since steamed rice.

Well, good morning everyone. My name is Matthew O'Hair. I am twenty three years old. I am from America and I am a famous heckled teaching performing foreign clown. What is your name?

PS

I put descriptions on all my pics.

More pics

Hey everyone, I posted a few more pics. I did a little exploring near my apartment and found this buddhist cemetary, some temples and shrines. There are also a few other pics from around town, enjoy.

New pics are in...

They're pics of my city, my apartment...my Geishas ;) They are actually just a bunch of kimono-clad festival goers, I went to a fireworks show in Sendai on the 5th. Anyways, the link is on the right, enjoy.

www.Engrish.com

If you haven`t been to www.engrish.com you must go. It`s a site dedicated to strange english translations found in Asian countries. Anyways, I had an Engrish moment in Tokyo...I was waiting for an elevator in Keio Plaza and looked over at the back of a shirt a Japanese was wearing. It said: `YOU LOOK ME!!! Look at this cat how it does not take to me yet I still hold it` and had a little picture of someone holding a cat...bizarre.

The Adventure Begins!!!

Hey everybody, I have arrived! I spent three exhausting days in Tokyo sitting through seminars and workshops trying to ween myself from U.S. central time, normal sized beds and...familiarity. Then, I headed to my town, Ishinomaki, which, by the way, means `rolling stone.` They like Western pop-culture so much they name their towns after British rock bands and Bob Dylan songs ;). I feel very welcome and surprisingly comfortable, I`m perfectly content taking in all the foreign people, places, sights and smells but I`ll see how I feel in a month when the novelty wears off. But even then, I think I`ll love my job and find fullfillment in the constant challenge of adjusting to a truly foreign culture. And, when it comes down to it, right now it just feels good to have no direction home, a complete unknown...like a rolling stone.

Those crazy Japanese...

Here's a list of some strange cultural indiosyncracies:
In Japan...
1.) never whistle at night (it summons evil spirits, of course).
2.) you should not, under any circumstances, move anything with your feet, it's barbaric.
3.) do not eat or drink while walking, it's very rude.
4.) you should slurp while eating, otherwise it's offensive to the hosts and chef.
5.) do not cut your fingernails at night, or toenails for that matter.
6.) never stick your chopsticks straight up in a bowl of rice or else it's considered an offering to the dead.
7.) never knock on a door more than twice.
8.) always face a door while closing it.
9.) never use a peice of furniture in a way it was not meant to be used (e.g. never sit on a desk).
10.) never pass food from chopstick to chopstick.
11.) do not hold your chopsticks while drinking with the other hand.

Pics are in!!!

My predecessor sent me some photos of my apartment, my school and Ishinomaki (my city). The links are on the right.

Blog is up

Hey everybody, I'm still figuring out this whole blog thing, so this is only a test...