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.