tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82862997250444935862024-02-19T08:43:50.159-08:00Blue Ice-Tea - LogbookBlue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-43694186208209947562013-09-13T21:10:00.001-07:002013-09-13T21:20:46.301-07:00Christmas in Summer – December 2012<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-Fm8TVSPaWL8BaEfWpD6Vmnqc3hlh1p_E8QIXXbUksNUhuShvIizYx-lhiQToXWZb7CddrPMAf_YOEe4p6DRpE2AIfIn3oodCCYDJuYq7IRODQP53FLxYlZSWTE_Ffi4ExPJSTcY5CuF/s1600-h/IMG_33793.jpg"><img title="IMG_3379" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="IMG_3379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzobGWCNvpkB7xKlUPYMyp2aLOsficGrhhiQ0ugsQJIlAkHm8p7pvBWpHxoJExIpeGu776B560uxqQwlrOIR2Nxx62pq5mMlwIugXRuniDUk0_mdamQyZqVCKePn7Etjyz3c4zds1HvqBD/?imgmax=800" width="324" height="184" /></a> </p> <br> <p>For Christmas, my mom came to stay with me for three weeks, providing the perfect excuse to see more of the country and do some proper sight-seeing.  Since her flight landed in Sydney, I flew down to meet her and we began our adventure there.  Sydney is not only the most famous and recognisable Australian city; for a long time it was the only Australian city I even knew anything about.  And among famous cities of the world, it’s one of the ones I most want to move to.  Not because of the weather, or the people, or the food, or even the sights.  But because I’ve always wanted to live in a state called New South Wales!</p> <br> <p>We began our first day with a walk through the Royal Botanic Gardens, which are considerably more impressive than Brisbane’s.  In fact, they’re probably the most beautiful gardens I’ve been to outside of Europe.  From the gardens it was only a short waterfront walk to the most famous building in the southern hemisphere: the Sydney Opera House.  We didn’t go inside, but we did have fun taking pictures of ourselves on the steps, and went for a nice but expensive lunch at one of the restaurants.  From there we also had a great view of the Harbour Bridge, which became a highlight of the Sydney Olympics.  It’s a big bridge, but if one squinted and looked very closely one could just make out tiny specs crawling along the top: tourists doing a guided walk across the structure.  It looked terrifying, though I’ve no doubt the adventurers were well secured.  From what I understand, the tour is good exercise, and would probably be very educational, especially to anyone with an interest in architecture or engineering.  It’s a couple hundred dollars, though, more than I felt like spending.</p> <br> <p>After lunch, we took a ferry around to Darling Harbour to see the Sydney Aquarium.  While I wouldn’t say it beats Osaka’s Kaiyukan for value, it’s a good-sized facility where we saw lots of Australian sea-life.  I was disappointed, however, that the most interesting members of the exhibition, the platypuses, were hiding, and though I watched and waited they did not make an appearance.</p> <br> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0dh5D002qeH7I7os_OqaaYAJuPElvPvipXPH6ZTZ1810BhTbj3vWM2yVs2fOMlQzi9LMJs865_ebGjC6PBVXyWDJybeh-Qo_Xuhcl-ir2p7wGK77itTCZjJKuOMbY_efFpdjYT4BwGf3C/s1600-h/IMG_34382.jpg"><img title="IMG_3438" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="IMG_3438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZC0BohISf-GUe9eI0tzyiFNVzK8-m3QllIZvaRss1D8ct8lVsBNpDqdmd8YKB2B-U3iLIr86YLe2xcZRaqCc_oF7MyaIApY9DSxJXRJpNpixwTKfTudnEXC_jcXVTBuoTsQfcI8inFYD/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> </p> <br> <p>The next day (Thursday) we took the ferry in the opposite direction to Manly.  We’d had it recommended to us for beaches, penguins, and fish and chips, but the beaches were crowded and had lots of warning signs up, the penguins only come out in the evening, and the fish and chips we had were mediocre.</p> <br> <p>On Friday we took a tour bus out to the Blue Mountains.  On the way, we stopped at the Featherdale Wildlife Park, a zoo for Australian wildlife.  Aside from possums, I’d had little opportunity to see Australian animals in the wild, so I was thrilled to have the opportunity to finally see kookaburras, kangaroos, and, of course, koalas!  I didn’t opt for a photograph with a koala, because I thought that was cheesy, but I did feed the kangaroos.  They also had wallabies (a smaller variety of kangaroo), wombats (which look like furry pigs), and Tasmanian devils (considerably cuter and less frightening than their animated namesake).  The cutest thing I saw there was the echidna, a funny, porcupine-like monotreme with a long snout that was waddling backward and forward in a corner of its enclosure.  The most interesting was the albino peacock.</p> <br> <p>From there we proceeded on to the Three Sisters, a large rock formation that is the subject of an Aboriginal legend.  In the nearby tourist centre we were shown performances of Aboriginal music and dance, and then we got a short cable-car ride and walk around the forested area.</p> <br> <p>We spent our last day souvenir shopping in The Rocks, and exploring the other interesting parts of downtown Sydney.  In the evening I walked down to a pie cart near our hotel that our bus driver had pointed out to us.  Apparently this innocuous establishment is renowned, and I was curious to know what a world-class meat pie tasted like.  It was everything one could wish for and more, with optional gravy, mashed potatoes, and mushy peas as topping.  You really don’t see enough good meat pies in Canada.  It’s kind of sad, really.</p> <br> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4tOCcw7TFunaJn4pjonzSHQXOKLX9hQohhsLLYXbvM6BO4C7IfKD4moRZNuUo79RPL7ONFjGyW4GCPM-RA8phvGgLgi36cFrQ7IS6QWWaN9NQ8zlVRO_250Qrgo0nGPXswNK1Fk5_DPZ/s1600-h/IMG_34802.jpg"><img title="IMG_3480" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="IMG_3480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYZKskQKuaSlPUgsLvX0EVRoD5HfwU6H8rp2nWBxgPM4bh7_qC-Rf5S-BbzRiAPnkiBQshD8UkoIWa1iVtBIvCf0DyqGlzrgdZjFrdnE0CQXO_erBteYkAc8JFAZ9tR8VHuci5ZJAaurq/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <br> <p>We flew back to Brisbane, and then up to Cairns.  Here we went on our most exciting Australian adventure: a trip to the Great Barrier Reef.  We took a ferry to a pontoon far out on the ocean, from where we were able to go snorkelling, SCUBA diving, or boating around the area.  Since I wanted to see as much of the reef as possible as cheaply as possible, I spent most of my time snorkelling – a first-time experience for me!  It didn’t allow me to see the coral up close, but I had a great “aerial” view (as it were) looking down on it.  I rented a pair of prescription goggles, and, in another first, was able to see clearly underwater!  I didn’t get to see as much aquatic wildlife as I would have liked (no clownfish, rays, or sea turtles for me), but I did get close up to some beautiful blue and yellow fish called “fusiliers”.  Sadly, I didn’t think to rent an underwater camera, so the only pictures I have are the ones I keep in my head.</p> <br> <p>Having spent one day on the reef, we devoted our other day in Cairns to the rainforest.  We took a long, scenic train ride up to the village of Kuranda.  The view from the train was lovely, and the village seemed nice, although we barely had time to get our bearings and have lunch before we had to leave.  The highlight was the trip back, where we took a long cable-car ride over the rainforest.  The cable car stopped twice on the way, at stations where we could walk around and see the trees up close.  At one of them I practised my declining Japanese skills on a pair of tourists by offering to take their picture.  (If there’s one phrase it will be useful to hang onto in the future, it must be “Shashin o totte mo ii desu ka?”*)  The most interesting part was the view from the cable car, though, especially on the last leg when we came in sight of the ocean.</p> <br> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4fBbgdoqqLNhyw1PjKvwDkTHjDAlfvCuLvOsIf_nDanav5jBIf_KfK6-Bj_Ix_-CQPMS24syT7bb9vtVNuyZ4bqAQnRT-1VuNsASmP9PnnKFgy31SDFkWEjeHKYbk4LPchDfDQYffmc4p/s1600-h/IMG_35452.jpg"><img title="IMG_3545" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="IMG_3545" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_N0BPjFpPyu9hyHZc74AUhip7C_WOCigfxhHGg_SU63_CsF1zT9TQ8k6jqLOaS3mCM5_KlEbjPhG5TtgY08v9ZHYoTGGUbXe_73tgLbIKFTsaCR3wzIAv_eGH_vlxlkKxEoB35D4Qfmk/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <br> <p>We returned to Brisbane for Christmas, which we spent with some of my new acquaintances.  We went with them to a friend’s house on Christmas day, where we had a celebratory Christmas lunch.  Much of the food was fairly traditional (turkey, vegetables, etc.), but it was served in a casual buffet, and the weather was a lot hotter.  Although the company was good and there were presents for everyone, it didn’t feel as cosy as the Christmas I’m used to, and I think I like the boreal version of the holiday much better.</p> <br> <p>We spent the rest of our holiday hiding from the hot Australian sun.  We went to the movies, to the shopping mall, and to the Queensland Museum, but it was too hot for much else.</p> <br> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrVGWWNVv-Z41zDcmB72AxvYkjI2K3LgvxzNrDabNpTONNZasgF80xgUDn-HnaA9hQOUt6mpmX0qY6pO6QLqripXTKHb9J1Mxu680tGTLsjNC-lIG8Z3DbBWpdQJcdU-QfkzYsrNORqaje/s1600-h/IMG_35772.jpg"><img title="IMG_3577" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="IMG_3577" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTm-AuGFGUYV9MnZM0IMBJ_8hDq__F4I9fRPXVxg8DE-BMw-QHLK0oq43vrU9ccS9SSOi6Yas00PYDW-m-MPgBihYn0_mlpiALDr33ezUbJgrLY-A-eycTzJBGqes_PnmTr4bOVMp2slr/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <br> <p>My mum flew home New Year’s Day, leaving me to plan the next phase of my antipodean adventure: a trip to New Zealand!  I now have my plane ticket to get there and my bus pass to get around, and I’ve confirmed that (unlike Australia) I <em>don’t</em> need a visa to get in.  I’m liking this country already!</p> <br> <p>In sad personal news, one of my cousins died suddenly just after Christmas.  I didn’t know her – in fact, she was the only cousin of mine whom I’d never met – but her mom is one of my favourite aunts, and I know her siblings, nieces, and especially children will be sorely affected.  She has two girls, still in their teens.  To make matters worse, her death comes exactly five years after that of one of my other cousins.  Can I just dissent from the accepted wisdom for a moment and say that sometimes, God’s timing is <em>lousy</em>???</p> <br> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_3xLySxrYxsYvwcxKp2F1Sz5tHXJfO45FDFqsUNhLu6pDBsd9g1xdyfaT9Bj_oR_g9AIasUMwQY22d9Qtf5xQ56ksF7lO_KarJajVyDV7YIFb_5_BtS1PbdyEc0TfORUSKwOCcZOZamH/s1600-h/IMG_34662.jpg"><img title="IMG_3466" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="IMG_3466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZzF7NWx78orvjvU760KcWHRhfXs0NGdwEI8PGGGlvlk7vknL43qCJEedPJflTQEnBJdyELZeQKmsfhLFYEJPrdBMbQGA-RoToaO-txFrbf6797L9IJK0KCpUq3Bi2VskuFaOSmjAYbUdw/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <br> <p>In the news this month, a gunman in the United States entered a kindergarten and killed twenty students and six staff members before killing himself.  I won’t even try to put into words how shocking this is.  I find shootings of this kind incomprehensible as it is; the idea of carrying out such a crime against five-year-old children just adds one more degree of horror.  I will only add that I’ve been annoyed by how quick the pundits have been to politicise this event and use it to justify stronger gun-control laws.  I’m all for gun-control, but the degree to which the American system is being blamed for this event seems to be a) disrespecting the victims by using them as tools of propaganda, and b) over-simplifying the issue and ignoring the many other factors that would need to be in place for someone to murder two dozen innocent people.  At the risk of siding with the N.R.A. for a moment, guns don’t kill people…</p> <br> <p>In happier news, Kate Middleton, wife of Prince William, is pregnant with the couple’s first child.  Assuming the monarchy lasts that long, the child will one day be king or queen of England.  Though with Elizabeth, Charles, and William all ahead of em in the succession line, I don’t see it happening any time soon.</p> <br> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg82tm916JBMSCGWysZIT2vyC6qj5h_8SG3CTGueZSsnU_lJjQjueQFBLg7WpZkfJWVcVd-qd5lK5U4A9FEjkHIenJ6HTUABo2Uo6r74EWeWERwubTUVG6NumAqYBB6x7Qj6rq-efHgx_3K/s1600-h/IMG_35662.jpg"><img title="IMG_3566" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="IMG_3566" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9y8ISZTR_tSBMxE_Btz-fJWX77j2Jpu0t4YtjuRPL9ZBP4WQp8tgzP-3pTZzGoQUoNfOKh4X1oquhHrhVGpt_pUMbycggo8G7irY5i-VOJBpDQ_uGtVApa9ipVNlTXeE_ns239likPJ3/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <br> <p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p> <br> <p><u>The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey</u> – I actually enjoyed this movie much more than I expected to – granted that I went in with very low expectations of it.  It has all the problems one would expect from a Peter Jackson adaptation (mostly related to length and pacing).  The story is all over the place.  And Thorin is not nearly as dwarvish or as kingly as I would have hoped.  Still, if you take this not as an adaptation of <u>The Hobbit</u> but rather as an epic action-adventure that just happens to have scenes from <u>The Hobbit</u> in it, it’s actually fairly successful.</p> <br> <p>One of the nicest surprises was the “Unexpected Party” sequence, which isn’t quite like the book version but still captures the right note of comic confusion.  At one point the dwarves even start singing the “Chip the Glasses” song, complete with choreographed acrobatics, and for a brief moment I allowed myself to hope they might sing <em>every</em> song in the book and turn it into a musical!  Sadly, it was not to be – no “tra-la-la-lally” or “ho, ho! my lad!” for this movie.  Another sequence that impressed me was the “Riddles in the Dark” scene.  This is probably my favourite chapter of any book ever, and it was a great relief to see an adaptation that was true to the spirit of the original while allowing for the change in medium and the alternate interpretation of Gollum.</p> <br> <p>One pleasant element that <em>didn’t</em> come as a surprise was Martin Freeman, who gives an outstanding performance as Bilbo.  Based on what little I knew of him before, I suspected he would be perfect for the part, and I wasn’t disappointed.  The additional material involving Gandalf and the White Council was interesting to watch, especially since it was mostly new to me.  There are even some moments where, in an attempt to make the story more grown-up, the characters explain things that are left deliberately vague in the book, such as why Thorin chooses a rag-tag band of civilians to help him take down a dragon, or why Bilbo goes along with this improbable scheme.  Both are explained in plausible ways that add depth to the story and characters.</p> <br> <p>Of course, for every sequence that works, there’s one that doesn’t, which is only to be expected when taking <em>six chapters</em> of a children’s book and adapting it to a two-and-a-half hour movie.  Scenes that should be funny turn serious, and moments that should be serious turn into puerile comedy.  The action sequences are reasonably exciting, but half of them are badly-timed and the other half require radical suspension of disbelief.  (Apparently terminal velocity is a lot lower in Middle-earth; either that, or rocks are a lot softer.)  And instead of ending where it should have, it goes on for an extra twenty minutes, with a ridiculous and unnecessary fight scene and an even more ridiculous last-minute rescue.  So while parts of it charmed me, the over-all product is still only mediocre.  (Three stars)</p> <br> <p><u>Les Misérables</u> (2012) – I’ve been a fan of <u>Les Mis</u>, the musical, ever since I first saw it at the age of eight in London, England.  Since then I’ve listened to the cast recording innumerable times, watched the televised 10th anniversary concert, heard the abridged book on tape, seen at least two film adaptations, and even read the first six hundred of the novel’s twelve hundred pages.  And in all that time, one question has been bugging me: when are we going to see the musical brought to the screen???</p> <br> <p>So when I heard this movie was in the works, I was excited, but also nervous.  Movie musicals tend to overshadow their stage counterparts, and I was concerned that if this became the definitive version, it be something I could feel proud to be a fan of.  Is it?  Judging by the number of times I broke down in tears, I’d say yes!  Movie adaptations always entail changes, but this one shows real sensitivity and understanding of the source material.  I was especially impressed that, as often as not, the changes bring the film more in line with the original novel!  A few scenes have been moved around, too.  In some cases this is a clumsy choice: there’s a three-song pileup halfway through Act II whose casualties include some of the play's best numbers.  But in others, the result is inspired: I have never seen “I Dreamed a Dream” pack half the punch it does here!</p> <br> <p>One of the trickiest things about <u>Les Mis</u> is that so many of its songs are powerful soliloquies, conveying the characters’ inner griefs and torments.  To bring this out, the filmmakers use a daring and innovative technique: instead of recording the songs first and having the actors lip-synch to them during filming, they film the actors singing live, recording their voices along with the rest of the scene.  The result is phenomenal!  I’ve never seen a musical where the actors <em>act</em> their songs so much!  They’re not pretty to listen to; with a few exceptions the singing voices are merely competent.  But the emotion the actors bring to them more than makes up for the sound quality.  Special credit goes to Anne Hathaway in a stunning performance as Fantine.  Hugh Jackman throws himself into his part and is a fabulous Valjean.  Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen’s take on the Thénardiers is unconventional, but still entertaining.  Eddie Redmayne is surprisingly moving as Marius.  I also really liked Gavroche, Enjolras, Eponine… basically, everyone in the cast – with one exception.  Darn you, Russell Crowe!!!  Why do you have to be so much less awesome than everyone else??!!!!</p> <br> <p>Perhaps one could say that the film falls short on the grand level.  The live recording technique doesn’t work as well on the big ensemble numbers, and the battle scenes aren’t as exciting as they could be.  But where it excels is on the level of the individual.  Javert’s part is admittedly weak, a point I’m particularly bitter about as it’s traditionally my favourite.  But in every other respect the acting is universally good and the solos do not disappoint.  (Three and a half stars)</p> <br> <p>T.V. shows I’ve seen this month:</p> <br> <p><u>Redfern Now</u> – Australian mini-series consisting of six stories about aboriginal families living in a suburb of Sydney.  I recognised many of the actors from <u>The Sapphires</u>.  In  contrast to my experience with Canadian T.V., I found it surprisingly intelligent, with complex stories and characters.  Race relations is one of the issues, but the series is concerned with all facets of aboriginal life.  Not all the episodes are equally good, but they range among a diverse set of topics, and I enjoyed most of them.</p> <br> <p>Radio programmes I’ve listened to this month:</p> <br> <p><u>The Lord of the Rings</u> – BBC Radio’s audio play adaptation of one of my favourite fantasy novels.  Having grown up listening to the BBC’s adaptation of <u>The Hobbit</u>, I was expecting an excellent production, much more accurate to the book than the recent movies.  Certainly, it succeeds on the last count.  The plot follows the original quite closely, although even at thirteen hours a few things had to be left out: the Scouring of the Shire is included, but Tom Bombadil is still missing.  The characters also feel more like the way Tolkien wrote them, most notably the hobbits.  As usual, I was especially fond of Sam, but all of the actors are good.</p> <br> <p>The series has its weaknesses, though.  One thing that annoys me is that, in the transfer to C.D., they have eliminated the divisions between episodes, stringing the scenes together without meaningful breaks except the ones between volumes.  Another is that many segments are slower and less exciting than they should be.  ”The Shadow of the Past” and “The Council of Elrond” in particular would have benefitted from some flashbacks to break up all that talking.  Music in general isn’t used nearly as much as it should be, and other big scenes, such as battles, need better sound-effects.  Many key scenes are surprisingly weak: the audio from the <em>movie</em> version of “The Bridge of Khazad-dûm” is much more compelling than the radio one.  And while I liked both Frodo and Sam, their most important scenes tend to fall flat.  On the whole, I’d say it’s a decent production with first-rate voice acting that suffers from a low budget and some unimaginative writing.</p> <br> <p>Books I’ve read this month:</p> <br> <p><u>The Horse and His Boy</u> by C. S. Lewis – A fun adventure story that just happens to be set in the Narnia universe.  This is the Narnia book that fits the least well with the others, but it still works in its own right.</p> <br> <p><u>Equal Rites</u> by Terry Pratchett – My first Discworld book in a while, featuring a witch and a little girl who wonders why she can’t be a <em>wizard</em>.  I’m starting to really like Pratchett’s female characters, and I think maybe I should focus on them from now on.</p> <br> <p><u>A Clash of Kings</u> by George R. R. Martin – The second <u>Song of Ice and Fire</u> book sees civil war brought to Westeros, with three people laying claim to the Iron Throne, and the kingship of the north also in dispute.  You would think that would mean a lot of battle scenes, but Martin prefers to focus on the politics of the situation, which makes for much more interesting reading.  Surprisingly, my favourite character so far is Ned Stark, who manages to give “honour” a <em>good</em> name for a change.  Other favourites are Tyrion, Arya, and Sansa.  I’m especially impressed with Martin’s writing of women.  Although set in a traditional, patriarchal society, the series features a large number of female characters.  More importantly, it contains a large <em>variety</em> of female characters who are developed as people in their own rights, and not simply as objects of male reverence or desire.</p> <br> <p>* “Shashin o totte mo ii desu ka?”: Japanese for “Is it okay to take a picture?”</p> Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-64339745413873319892013-08-16T13:41:00.001-07:002013-08-16T13:57:15.062-07:00Summer is Coming – October-November 2012<div align="center">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBLfcDvp8dfah-F-ovL5FZVM1wyTh0t-Ywf9F1Bwwfunbz6N5Rrn0uaWqAmqZigLVzGO4FSi0v5pag4wioqOaFBL8Y1zYzaSvj8sTX1XiNjLpXyatG8DKFvlJANlHJjQkLxZaGbhRk9mU/s1600-h/IMG_32603.jpg" rel="WLPP"><img alt="IMG_3260" border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKODmZvHPSZbnOf0sZ0m7-p79GAAw9nagvESY8OdT-rG-8NMp7oFQXwjTx7PrpXr73iYPfBWl1qHfV43iIYRgwi7Bx_axqTwxwwrDJTuNE9B9tpqI2EfOGzp37-Ar_GSOKT9XfvWHuMKHu/?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline;" title="IMG_3260" width="324" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>My life has settled into a routine that’s keeping me pretty busy. I have to be at work before 8:00 every day. I teach until 2:30, then spend my afternoon and much of my evening preparing for future classes. Since I don’t like teaching when tired, I’m also trying to get to bed at a decent time. The result is that I’m working eleven hours a day, sleeping nine hours a night, and not finding time for much else.<p/>
<br />
<p>Weekends have been largely devoted to shopping and cooking, but I’m trying to work some extra-curricular activities in too. In October I went to the “Mummy: Secrets of the Tomb” exhibit at the Queensland Museum. The exhibit was overpriced for its size; it certainly wasn’t the British Museum or Tutankhamen’s tomb. It was also dominated by a video presentation that took almost as much time as the artefacts did. It was nice in that it gave some context for what we would be seeing; unfortunately few of the articles on display were actually from the burial site discussed.<p/>
<br />
<p>In November I decided to find out if anyone in Brisbane plays Dungeons & Dragons, and discovered a group that meets on Sunday afternoons. They run different types of campaigns, not all of which are open, but I’ve been going to the ones I can. I’m still very much a novice, and it’s not always easy to keep up with the other players, but they’ve been understanding. It’s nice to be playing without a language barrier, and I find it makes role-playing in particular much easier. As a sign of my commitment to the game, I’ve even bought my own dice! They’re shiny and blue. So pretty…<p/>
<br />
<p>I’ve been to a few different churches now, but have mostly been frequenting the Lutheran church near my house and the Anglican cathedral down town. The former is smaller and friendlier, but the latter has a more familiar service style. I’ve also finally learned of a swing dancing group not far from where I work. I’m now trying to learn the lead’s part in Lindy-Hop, but I’m finding it very dizzying!<p/>
<br />
<p>The weather’s getting pretty hot here. It definitely feels like summer, and I can only imagine what it’ll be like when summer really arrives! We’ve also been getting a lot more rain than when I arrived. We’re heading into storm season now, and one weekend I was stunned to look outside and see what looked like a hurricane! It passed as quickly as it started, but it was pretty scary while it lasted! Fortunately, most of the rain we’ve gotten has been the safe kind that waters the plants and makes everything brighter. The grass is much greener now, and the trees have blossomed in a variety of colours, including purple jacaranda blooms.<p/>
<br />
<p>One morning I awoke to a strangely dusky light, as though the sun were on a dimmer. I recognised the effect from a few months earlier, and immediately realised that it was eclipse day in the southern hemisphere. The total version of this eclipse happened in northern Queensland, and if I’d had time or money to fly up to Cairns, I could have seen it. I’d been so caught up with work, however, that I didn’t even bother to go looking for eclipse glasses. I think it will have to go on my bucket list: before I die, I want to watch a solar eclipse happening.<p/>
<br />
<p>Despite taking up most of my time, work has been good. I like my students, my co-workers, and the movies I sometimes get to supervise during morning break. One of the other teachers showed me how to use the coffee maker, so now I can get my afternoon caffeine shot as needed. It’s not like the coffee machines I’m used to; apparently coffee in Australia only comes in swanky varieties. They give them funny names, too: “flat white”, “long black”, etc. So… which one is a latte???<p/>
<br />
<p>I’m not the only foreigner among the staff. I have co-workers with American, New Zealand, and even Scottish accents, leading to many geeky dissections of the pronunciation guide in our U.K.-produced textbooks. I’ve noticed that not even my Australian co-workers sound as Australian as one might expect. I had an idea in my head of what an Aussies should sound like – think Julia Gillard – but most of them don’t have accents nearly that thick. At least not in Brisbane.<p/>
<br />
<p>On the flip side, I’ve been amazed by how many people here have said to me “From your accent, I’m guessing you’re… Canadian?” Since my accent can’t be nearly that distinctive, I can only assume that Australians know we don’t like being mistaken for Americans, and are erring on the side of caution. I’m not big on the self-righteous distancing so many of my compatriots love to do, bit it’s nice to see foreigners showing some cultural sensitivity.<p/>
<br />
<p>In November my school celebrated Melbourne Cup day. That’s the day of a big horse race in Melbourne. Apparently horse racing is a thing here, and the students were encouraged to dress up, place bets, and cheer for their favourite horse. The most enjoyment I’ve ever gotten out of a horse race was watching the Ascot sequence in <u>My Fair Lady</u>, so I completely failed to inspire my students with this event, or even to explain it. It was a cultural experience as much for me as for them.<p/>
<br />
<p>I taught my class for ten weeks, and it’s been one of the best work experiences of my life so far. October was stressful, as I worked overtime to stretch four weeks’ worth of material out to six, but then I readjusted my schedule, and planning became much easier. I had some great students in my class, and I really feel that the effort I made as a teacher paid off in both learning and class enjoyment.<p/>
<br />
<p>Sadly, December will mean fewer classes, and I’m losing mine to another teacher. My bosses have given me positive reviews, and have promised to keep me on the sub-list, so a new position may well open up in the new year. For now, the timing is actually quite convenient; it means I’ll be free to travel and enjoy a long Christmas vacation.<p/>
<br />
<p>When I told my students I was leaving, they suggested a party, which we held on Friday afternoon. We had cake and snacks and drinks. We played music and took pictures. My students wrote me a “Thank You” card and even gave me presents, a gesture I found very touching. It’s nice to feel appreciated for a change, but it’s even more gratifying to feel that I really <em>have</em> been a good teacher, and have earned the respect and affection of my students.<p/>
<br />
<p>In the evening, they invited me along to a goodbye dinner for one of the Korean students. It was held in a mixed Asian restaurant by my favourite Korean, Japanese, and Taiwanese students. I was the only white person there, but I’m used to that, and the mix of nationalities meant that most people spoke in English. I’m glad I got a chance to hang out with them outside of school. I hope when I get back to Canada I can find a job that’s just as good with students who are just as awesome!<p/>
<br />
<p>I’ve had two interesting pieces of news from back home. Firstly, one of my buddies from Ottawa is engaged. She’s not getting married for another year and a half, though, by which time I should definitely be back in the country. Second-, and more excitingly, one of my friends is having a baby! E’s due in the spring, most likely before I get home, but since I plan to return shortly thereafter, I should get a chance to meet em fairly soon. And if I was having any doubts about returning home, this had definitely made up my mind: what better incentive could there be than a new baby?!!<p/>
<br />
<p>In the news this month, Hurricane Sandy slammed into the United States, doing massive damage to the eastern seaboard and especially to New York. A few of my co-workers expressed concern for me, asking whether any of my family were in the affected area. Fortunately it looks as though things haven’t been that bad in Ontario, and everyone I know is safe.<p/>
<br />
<p>Also out of the U.S., Barack Obama has been re-elected and will continue as president for another four years.<p/>
<br />
<p>Movies I’ve seen this season:<p/>
<br />
<p><u>Shall We Dance?</u> – An unusually sweet and down-to-earth movie about a middle-aged lawyer who recaptures his joie de vivre through ballroom dancing. It wasn’t till the credits that I remembered it was a remake of a Japanese movie, and with a single exception, the story makes the cultural transition quite successfully. Still, it does seem in retrospect like a tale far too charming to have been dreamed up by an American. I’ll have to see the original some time. (Three stars)<p/>
<br />
<p>Books I’ve read this season:<p/>
<br />
<p><u>Haroun and the Sea of Stories</u> by Salman Rushdie – I re-read this mostly so I could improve the <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Literature/HarounAndTheSeaOfStories" target="_blank">TV Tropes page</a>. Still enjoyed every bit of it!</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-49985677158769633332013-07-19T17:58:00.001-07:002013-07-20T06:30:31.052-07:00How Ya Goin’? – September 2012<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHmkrtOEVhjI2p8f6QjQLdquD4z7hidCBJHPWIAKlFCwozRtLIuLSAWIrVMJKJXsYrfR8Y9YDKlt2cPRuI-9B-af8bcVUCzIX9i7aHwqxsmaDAvfTCSA_lypKY9oJawaeEhEND20tiCtgr/s1600-h/IMG_30872.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_3087" border="0" alt="IMG_3087" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGBYP-YNkHDT1f2lEM3ldcsPNJfzY784CKFWIyg7VfKUhFve0CL7C9eSy294OfyRJP5Dx6GE4SZgVgqJLwD2f10xE2tLvvr7_jP5bEO6lgYrdJjqYKicsB8frkXDQdQhy1F2jt69di4gY/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> </p> <br /> <p>Getting settled in Brisbane has been a long and difficult process, but this month things started coming together.  First, my luggage finally arrived!  I mailed my suitcase from Japan at the end of July, on the understanding that it should take about a fortnight to reach Australia.  The fact that it took more than a month was a source of increasing distress to me, and I was overjoyed when a postal truck <em>finally</em> pulled up outside the front door and delivered my precious baggage.  Stuff!!!  How I missed you!</p> <br /> <p>After viewing about ten rooms in all corners of the city I finally settled on one at the beginning of the month and moved in a week later.  It’s a bit more than I wanted to spend – rent, like everything else, is expensive here – but it’s close to downtown with easy access to public transit, and I’m quite happy with it.  It’s in a traditional old house, with a patio and palm trees in the back yard.</p> <br /> <p>Lastly, I have a job!  This took quite a long time to find; I handed out résumés during my first two weeks here but got almost no response for a month.  Then, towards the end of September, two schools called me in for interviews that led almost directly to a place on the substitute teacher list.  Those in turn led to 6:00 a.m. calls for emergency relief work (“Of <em>course</em> I can be there in an hour and fifteen minutes; I’m practically out the door now!”), which led to near-simultaneous full-time employment offers.  I could only take one of them, of course, but this makes me feel a lot better about my desirability as a teacher, and I’m thrilled to be working again.</p> <br /> <p>Although I’ve done this kind of work before, it’s been a bit of an adjustment.  I’ve spent the last three years doing either co-teaching or tutoring, and I’m having to recall my training and experience from Vancouver.  On the plus side, my students are at a much higher level than I’m used to.  I’m teaching the pre-intermediate class, which is quite low, but it’s an unspeakable relief to be able to say a sentence like “Take out your textbooks and turn to page sixteen”, and have the students comply without needing it translated!  They also seem unusually studious and enthusiastic about learning.  Maybe it’s the visa system here; in Australia students legally have to show up for class or risk having their student visas revoked.  Either way, they seem quite motivated, and are in turn motivating me to be a better teacher!</p> <br /> <p>Now that I’m living on my own and working, I haven’t been getting out as much.  The most interesting event of the month was Mid-Autumn Festival, which was observed by the Chinese immigrant community despite it technically occurring in springtime.  I went with my Hong Kong acquaintance to a service at her Chinese-dominated church.  The event coincided with “River Fire”, a fireworks show over the Brisbane River.  We watched it from the shore and saw Story Bridge explode in coloured sparks.  It might not have been Sydney Harbour Bridge at the Olympics, but we were impressed nonetheless.</p> <br /> <p>Otherwise, life in Australia is becoming routine.  The novelty is starting to wear off, although the local quirks still catch me off guard.  One that I still haven’t adjusted to is the habit people have of asking “How ya goin’?”  Not “How ya <em>doin’</em>?”, or “How’s <em>it</em> goin’?”, but “How are <em>you</em> <em>going</em>.”  Another idiom is the expression “Y’alright.”  Not "Y'alright?" as in "Are you okay?", but "Y'alright" as a statement of fact.  The meaning seems to encompass “That's okay", "No problem", and "You're welcome."</p> <br /> <p>Apparently Australians count the seasons differently from us, because the first of the month was also the beginning of spring.  Not that that meant much to me, because it <em>felt</em> just like late summer.  In the middle of the month it finally rained for the first time since I’ve been here.  Much as I love uninterrupted sunshine, I’m looking forward to the grass turning green and hopefully the city starting to look a bit prettier.</p> <br /> <p>In news out of Japan, one of my Japanese acquaintances recently went to Canada to begin a month-long homestay in (of all places) Saskatoon!  Though it’s a fairly small city, and not one I know a lot about, I know it’ll provide her with a great immersion experience, and do a lot to improve her English.</p> <br /> <p>In the news this month, protests are taking place all over the world, including Australia, because of a video on YouTube that makes fun of the prophet Mohammed.  The protesters have called for the video to be removed and the maker prosecuted or even executed for breaking Muslim law and inciting hatred against Muslims.  Wanting to see for myself what all the fuss was about, I duly went on YouTube and watched the video.  Is it obnoxious?  Sure.  If I were a Muslim, would I be offended by it?  Definitely.  Does it promote hatred against Muslims?  Absolutely not.  It makes fun of Mohammed, but in no way advocates violence against his followers.  And it violates Muslim law by showing its prophet’s face.  So what?</p> <br /> <p>Dear protesters: Cheap YouTube videos do not encourage hatred of Muslims.  Muslims who protest cheap YouTube videos encourage hatred of Muslims.  The way to prove that you are peaceful is not to commit acts of violence; the way to promote tolerance is not to outlaw opposition; and calling for someone’s death is no way to win em over to your side.  And I sincerely hope that the offending video never ever gets taken down.  It’s called free speech.  Deal with it.</p> <br /> <p>Books I’ve read this month:</p> <br /> <p><u>The Shack</u> by William Paul Young – Modern-day fable about a grieving father’s weekend in the woods with God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.  Never having dealt with bereavement myself, I find it hard for say whether I find this tale of forgiveness and reconciliation plausible, but I appreciate the down-to-earth tone and agree with most of the author’s thoughts on man’s relationship with God.</p> <br /> <p><u>A Game of Thrones</u> by George R. R. Martin – More than a decade ago, I started watching a new T.V. show that blew my mind.  I’d heard lots of good things about it, and knew that it had received much critical acclaim, but until I saw it, I couldn’t understand how special it really was.  For the first time I was watching a show that didn’t treat its audience like children; that explored moral grey areas without being pedantic; that made loathsome characters loveable without trying to mitigate their crimes.  That show was <u>The Sopranos</u>, and I still consider it the best series I’ve even seen.</p> <br /> <p>I felt the same kind of awe reading the first book in <u>A Song of Ice and Fire</u>: this is high fantasy for <em>adults</em>.  Despite owing a lot to the high fantasy genre, including the work of J. R. R. Tolkien, it tells a very different kind of story.  While it’s technically a fantasy, the fantastic elements are so restrained that it feels more like historical fiction.  Instead of Free Peoples battling an Army of Darkness, it has morally complex humans in conflict with other morally complex humans.  And while some of the principal characters are key players, they also include the helpless, the marginalised, and the victims who can only watch the horrific events unfold.</p> <br /> <p>The writing is extremely disciplined: each chapter is told from the perspective of a single character, and Martin never doubles back and replays events from a different perspective.  The style is competent, though geared more towards readability than poetics.  The chapters are numerous but short, and since each one advances the plot a tiny bit, there’s little opportunity to get bored.  Martin also rotates between the different perspectives often enough that by the time I’ve started to miss one character it’s usually time for eir re-appearance.</p> <br /> <p>This is the book I wish I’d written: a morally complex story with a diverse cast of characters and the perfect balance of cynicism and idealism.  I could never write a book like this though.  I’m just glad <em>somebody</em> did!</p> Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-61516704994312703142013-06-21T17:44:00.001-07:002013-07-20T06:31:48.339-07:00Not in Kansas Anymore – August 2012<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6zTbczVzQA1J6TUuQB7hj-dpUBaH8yHdf5EDylQAg8NbETUA-hxH4690dF6dD4XTsFIHcu21rWL1QyzsvMrWal88yxRK9LftTX0aJB94VGixdO0v0t1wwnQQ1FrMwCwE4MDUMjYYMmUl/s1600-h/IMG_29662.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2966" border="0" alt="IMG_2966" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgin9vtkseYDg2_8_YoJjaeOoeXUmSBMKSq2W0-iHug1rXzvPwcrayQYCdAe8bBg_Q59oSCCxLr3UYutH2mvm2z_nOEqpfPmcgoe_9UaYDJaBEIM3YoAIxJZv7zsLGfgHF5Y_8xj3sDwk1G/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <br /> <p>“G’day!  Welcome to Brisbane.”</p> <br /> <p>So says the sign over the gangway as I disembark from my overnight flight and take my first steps on Australian soil.  Aussies clearly aren’t shy about conforming to their own stereotypes.</p> <br /> <p>Having been led to expect some of the most rigorous screening in the world, I’m surprised to be whisked through customs without a single search, X-ray, or body scan.  I’m also somewhat dismayed to find that having an electronic visa means I’m admitted without getting a piece of paper or even a stamp in my passport.  Sooo… I have a visa, I just don’t… <em>have</em> it.  This better not cause me problems later on.</p> <br /> <p>I have only one acquaintance here, a buddy from my church in Hong Kong.  She’s generously invited me to come and stay while I find my feet, and I’m happy to have somewhere to go.  She meets me at Arrivals and drives me back to her place, where I get settled into her spare bedroom.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSyZIPAraZjF9hVF28N-C2PNvRpdveNcsjioW52eiMq2RY0VX-0SVUyOBhn3B7RJ2pdaqQFWS404ovYXWX5GNGFlFiIazW77HbHxcVgWKY-Tt8ET88LbKQgjFLDt8gJwjd2038zKLC4TMb/s1600-h/IMG_2949a2.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2949a" border="0" alt="IMG_2949a" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsrYUEcfzxE-Xe4-wSJHslD_Zy6FoPo5Fw_i5Tv0UqDwSjjBFoNqTksaS19KJobW8O2g1DqHehwpSqlBv0zW4pnp7xUIy5F57P0nTUvN3pEuIpoSP4_pM_ybz5viL3T5n5TOh_c240o2B/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <br /> <p>This is my first time ever in Australia, home to marsupials, <u>Finding Nemo</u>, and Peter Weir.  I’m a bit better informed about it than most foreigners.  I know the name of the prime minister (Julia Gillard), the capital (Canberra), and how to pronounce “Brisbane” (rhymes with “fizbin”).  With a bit of prompting I can even name all six states, two territories, and their capital cities.</p> <br /> <p>All the same, I arrived here not knowing quite what to expect from the place.  Some of my earliest impressions of the continent came from <u>A Town Like Alice</u>: big, hot, dry, full of redneck cowboys and poisonous animals.  Over the years they continued to be informed by the media that trickled into North American society: the Chamberlain case gave us dingoes; <u>Gallipoli</u> gave us ANZAC; and Steve Irwin gave us crocodiles.  Then the Sydney Olympics happened, with its stylised representations of Australian history and its affirmation of Australian modernity.  There was also the Opera House, Ayers Rock (now preferentially knows as “Uluru”), and the Great Barrier Reef, and, of course, those Aborigines with their body paint, boomerangs, and didgeridoos.  In other words, my impressions were variegated and cartoony, and all over-laid with a general notion that Australia really isn’t that different from Canada.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9IvXFVeIQnQCL3tocIUcS6SKrfgBmY2TmO1hdK3nT71Zh8KjZ39oVaR619aK3StwUj1i3cbBikHXw6Pg1_qGHi74cnD_7MVGdptp4sfJALvzCt8cCjsLp1rI0pyAq_ZVjvT0dBtXoBAc/s1600-h/IMG_29132.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2913" border="0" alt="IMG_2913" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbx9fSVbxokMGSDyfqCnZ0jbGG4X-9Nu50o-12HO55mLvOJgCZYMTDPDbfNpNB3cfBVirZxmNQFd-SDOQ0WlHQDidvwsuBaUEqrSQpToT2KZLTWcFQzJiZcJLb7OukevT2XJe-mtsxGdID/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <br /> <p>So far my last guess doesn’t seem too far wrong.  In terms of day-to-day life, Australia is a bit like Japan (driving on the left); a bit like Canada (the spelling of “colour”, “centre”, and “grey”); and a bit different from both (the first floor is <em>not</em> the ground floor).  But <em>most</em> of the things that have taken me by surprise so far have involved not differences from my native land, but from my most recent country of residence.  When I arrived, I couldn’t get over how <em>big</em> everything was!  Imagine: four-lane highways with barely any traffic on them!  A two-story house for only two people!  A fridge as tall as I am!  Boxes of cereal that might last more than four days!  And <em>1 kilo</em> tubs of yogurt!!!</p> <br /> <p>Most of the changes are nice.  I’m thrilled by the novelty of actually being able to go up to the cashier in a store or stop someone on the street and <em>talk</em> to them!  I’m also amazed that the cash points here work 24/7 without charging for overtime, and that drivers will actually yield to pedestrians!  But I’m finding it hard to unlearn some of my Japanese habits; I have to restrain myself from bowing at everyone!</p> <br /> <p>I’ve been coping with so much <em>reverse</em> culture shock that culture shock has barely stood a chance, but I have also noticed the odd peculiarity.  I embarrassed my Hong Kong buddy on my very first day by taking a picture of the grocery store shelf containing every form and size of Vegemite you could imagine!  I was even more shocked to learn that there is, in fact, such a thing as a Vegemite sandwich, and that it’s actually really tasty!  Other culinary discoveries I’ve made are that fish and chips shops are almost as common here as they are in England; Burger King is called “Hungry Jack’s”; and kangaroo is a popular meat, valued for its low fat content.</p> <br /> <p>I was dumbfounded at the size of the money.  There’s a coin here that’s roughly the size of a quarter; you know how much it’s worth?  <em>Ten cents!</em>  The twenty is the size of a twoonie, and there may or may not be a fifty-cent coin that’s larger still!  The smallest coin is the five cent; Australia did away with pennies sometime before we did, though that doesn’t stop cashiers from ringing up your total and telling you that you owe $19.98.  (Am I going to get change from a $20??  No???  Then don’t tell me I owe 2¢ less than I do!!!)  Most baffling are the $2 coins, which for some reason are <em>smaller</em> than the $1 ones.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIeM2ctLcwEHJCMoe4A2yKtBECNwpDZ9nKJ7ej5YqrRkWQ1osvbeQHzOS2Bwqs1-a9YNiqWaPSnUfHwKHgvaBai30gUHzZeWeoL_QOgacNwYKrVrWHag8qMY5t3QUsYkbGTJp96g41whVP/s1600-h/IMG_30692.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_3069" border="0" alt="IMG_3069" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKRYkpAHndkk__ZenhvNZr2s0P0yxYOFfovjBNESErOqpyfDMZU9EL2NVCcOSMlsXtCL22dUGP1_hbFWApdcqiQwFeoDPMtn-1JQURoqiLg9y2v7Z0BGTsPM8EtCqk3HfFvAU23sMcDe4/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <br /> <p>When debating the relative merits of Brisbane and Melbourne, the two came up about evenly, but in the end a number of small considerations tipped the balance in favour of Brisbane: it’s slightly closer, it’s slightly warmer, and it’s slightly cheaper.  It’s also the one major Australian city that didn’t make it into Bill Bryson’s book, so the only way I’ll ever learn about it is to discover it for myself!</p> <br /> <p>My Hong Kong acquaintance and her husband have been helping me to find my bearings and showing me around.  They’ve taken me out to the Gold Coast (famous for its beautiful beaches and surfing) and Mt Tamborine (famous for its rainforest walks and cute cafés).  They’ve also helped me with practical matters, like figuring out the public transit system, opening a bank account, and shopping.</p> <br /> <p>Between dropping off résumés, I’ve been exploring the down town a lot.  It’s an easy place to navigate: all the streets are named after people, with the female streets running one way and the male streets running perpendicular.  It’s most notable feature is ANZAC Square, where are commemorated Australia’s military loses in various conflicts, including (much to my surprise) Vietnam.  There’s also a botanical garden and several big old churches.</p> <br /> <p>Maybe it’s because I’ve spent the last two years living in a Japanese backwater, but Brisbane’s a lot cooler than I was expecting.  It’s not too big, and not too small either, the perfect size for someone who grew up in Ottawa.  It’s nice to be back in a city with beautiful buildings, be they historical, like the train station, or modern, like the library.  A lot of the city is waterfront, and the ferry service that runs up and down the river is a convenient and scenic way of getting around.  It reminds me a bit of Vancouver.</p> <br /> <p>The best feature so far has been the weather.  August in the Southern Hemisphere is theoretically the dead of winter, but it feels much more like spring to me!  The days here see temperatures in the teens and low twenties, and are almost all sunny.  I’ve been here for almost a month now, and I haven’t seen it rain <em>once</em>!!  Combine that with the size of everything, the high prices, the general cleanliness, and the abundance of subtropical flora and I feel a bit like I’m living in Beverly Hills!</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKmCbAAOZGjaxTPri8EhNrclSvN5J2FE9XgelZQ2KJRrVfjtLTfHQcpiosOEU646DhMkFn-YYkh-NNhjAPNVrJ2-ic7ASPv_fzDZ5DikpOE7y7DKxWy_BjYl64KosG26_B_B66Ne2mOeV/s1600-h/IMG_30972.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_3097" border="0" alt="IMG_3097" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLs5fi6_Bzoze9fvmZIX2E5pG_68PFzwlJlH81R2A7TR-Paf5__xyGp9LHlDeJ8zJcXALdPcY3iesbfGDyGkQTDL1V5MXi5VCYZLZXtGPxgDF7Iwsck2zBtUzuNIVsPqS13Vg61R2DJ278/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> </p> <br /> <p>In my leisure time I’ve been enjoying the Olympics in London, which has put on a show to rival Australia’s own.  As my location has changed, the focus of the coverage has shifted from Japan to China and ended up on Australia.  I’ve gotten to know the green and gold team uniforms, and even the names of some Aussie athletes.  Needless to say, I have no idea what my compatriots have been up to.</p> <br /> <p>I enjoyed both the opening and closing ceremonies, the former of which paid wonderful tribute to my favourite movie (a certain 1981 British flick featuring a lot of synthesised music but surprisingly few incandescent carriages), and the latter of which celebrated the country’s great musicians (my personal favourite part was seeing the Spice Girls reunited!)  I saw some of the rhythmic gymnastics.  I also watched the BMX racing, an entertaining new addition to the Olympic programme.  But the big focus, as always, was track.  In that category the big stars were Usain Bolt and his fellow Jamaicans, but the most impressive moment for me was when South Africa’s Caster Semenya came out of nowhere to steal silver in the women’s 800 m.</p> <br /> <p>The Olympic spirit did not dissipate with the closing ceremonies, but remained strong through the succeeding Paralympic games.  This was my first year paying any attention to the Olympics’ younger sibling, thanks largely to the strong advertising push put behind it by the U.K.  Although I didn’t watch as much of it, I was very impressed by what I saw of the opening ceremonies.  I found time for some of the swimming and running.  And I feel I can say with some conviction that wheelchair basketball is a lot more fun to watch than the regular kind.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2DHb9V7uBh4nJOKA7oOXWwG5bsrKXBZF-DhZ4pMphjjSv_5_CPa5nV5vycwbINqYVObffh-r4jNdzGf8zts0KqPuGma7Kb86YNY7-5FNwmBp-C2QgScLI1eFFZkuxdlzwUoJmI6dH3-I/s1600-h/IMG_29592.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2959" border="0" alt="IMG_2959" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfoG2lnXLKEM5QFb72qrRg-N5z9eidLdJkihkbelRQdgwGs7DpVL1Z6eq1-zVUY1aaq7GbZE3_1rlGDbzVTzBxVih8z5G4A80dwkV-isiPqh80pc7iHb8UWes9DABho9nSiaMKtLHJpktp/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> </p> <br /> <p>In the news this month, Australia has decided to re-open the Nauru refugee detention centre.  Opened under John Howard in 2001 and closed by Kevin Rudd in 2007, the centre is a dumping ground for refugees, who are kept in off-shore camps rather than being allowed to stay in Australia while their claims are being processed.  The fact that this controversial policy has been re-instated under the same party that saw it dismantled has made some noise in the international community, and quite a bit in the country itself.  It’s been interesting to see the Australian perspective on this change, which seems to be almost as unpopular here as elsewhere.</p> <br /> <p>Also in the news, American cyclist Lance Armstrong has been found guilty of using performance-enhancing drugs and stripped of his Tour de France titles.  I don’t pay any attention to cycling, but even I know that Lance Armstrong is a hero to a lot of people, and I grieve for them.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbZm_s5qP5mg_He_7L72drEd9WP5hXrvWvvp5R-KMU0PaPNeyBrF6ggBiKn-eNjO2HIXRc7CWMKy6PJ-mmMb8H1DWFZFavNmuGuzZdWU5nbi_C3uUjEXzvTKgVi5DF1Gqv2sJTDGgBQR3/s1600-h/IMG_29122.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2912" border="0" alt="IMG_2912" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhak5lqpSlkTuSRSIjIE0V2San3gfQaIem69LShBvlw2tt0Gzf1ILrPJgWAa-4f1KDJF8GBJo0Ur9D643HDAB-289PpJgl6t5RAVK1SEvoicWuXsmRo-JlUdFAiM5NZhviGkDVV6TTEOxkY/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> </p> <br /> <p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p> <br /> <p><u>Bran Nue Dae</u> – Weird, irreverent musical-comedy about an Aboriginal boy’s Odyssey through Western Australia.  It wasn’t always to my taste, but definitely interesting as my first ever Aborigine-made movie.  (Three stars)</p> <br /> <p><u>The Sapphires</u> – A much more accessible Aboriginal story about four cousins who travel to Vietnam to sing Motown.  Sweet, fluffy, and entertaining, it’s worth watching mostly for its insight into Aboriginal history and affirmation of Aboriginal identity.  (Three and a half stars)</p> <br /> <p>Plays I’ve seen this month:</p> <br /> <p><u>Henry V</u> – Part of the local Shakespeare festival, this was surprisingly good quality for free theatre.  The costumes and sets were minimalist, but compensated for by the quality acting.  Prior to this I’d only seen the Kenneth Branagh movie version; seeing it performed live has improved my opinion of it.</p> Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-69072715544062547352013-04-29T02:01:00.001-07:002013-05-25T02:18:04.889-07:00Pilgrimages - July-August 2012<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1wVT8SI7V9A9TdxUQZ70es873wx_1UOmNNKj2NxrMQQ08ArecFPdcK9ELkZK4v0hvdetzDxh_0qi-H7Gl_sFRkL-l-7hoX75xgric38klGQUmVR0KmVjjctzsgKmlDEE2DcUs9aP_27Dy/s1600-h/IMG_27531.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2753" border="0" alt="IMG_2753" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHPtz5awfQlxmB3xMX1s7ZJqW4LYN_Ok71P_tjCOIHtqMakTwE5vFE6Qvf2Bq0MAOp3p61Sr6GdYiH3VJWTsbM39tneqow3UWWB5VikuP6QpnjMzdD7e5SQmh3NIN3O5bXhbaWWmXiTCYA/?imgmax=800" width="324" height="184" /></a></p> <br /> <p>My tea lady came by to pick me up in the afternoon and took me to her place.  She had offered to let me spend my last few days in Sendai with her, and loath as I was to impose on her, I was also glad of the opportunity it would give me to spend a little more time with her and her family.  That evening she had a little dinner party for me and some of the other staff from my school, giving me an opportunity for some extra goodbyes.  The next day I went to a festival with her, where we helped make yakisoba (“fried noodles”) at one of the food stalls.  Then we went out to see some summer fireworks.</p> <br /> <p>A few days later, she drove me downtown and I caught my bus to Fukushima.  I spent one day there, visiting my ALT buddy, then went on for my final trip to Tokyo.  I didn’t do much with my time there, other than meeting up with an acquaintance and running some errands.  But there was one thing I thought I should fit in.  Do you realise that I’ve been in Japan for two years, and never once seen Mt Fuji???</p> <br /> <p>Well, now I have.  I took a bus out of the city to a place called Lake Kawaguchiko.  It wasn’t close enough for someone wanting to climb the mountain, and I didn’t have time or energy for that anyway.  But it was close enough for a good, if slightly cloud-covered, view of it.  I took a bus to the far side of the lake, took my photographs, and enjoyed a leisurely stroll back.  It was a nice area; if I ever get the chance, I should go back there.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-P0ZMuIa8FlKAuzOCxAqeKSm58W4aRQ5Br1_KVOWb3X4uuK5BwatsC0iPrwqGQrF8vuLzFTxP4RXRTTv6FVQ_HJR6JOLgAiKnaIX_e1AHZ-xh583f1Vp6LyJs99GPJU3Fty5DwgYvxusC/s1600-h/IMG_28642.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2864" border="0" alt="IMG_2864" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXvvFpHsJ6cD_sCqiHs9pfNW-d-FtPlNK8_BRmKBhS1qbCBTAQ4yldr77TRQB2B7NL_fTfpFLWLVJjB8mR-vKAB9uqlAsRAJVTdQBdsH5GpQ0FowUH3SZ0PV5I5Ta0GOMyI3JoZrqQwCO_/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <br /> <p>I always assumed that if I got into the JET Programme, I would have to make a trip to Hong Kong at some point.  As it turned out, I spent two whole years without leaving the country once.  But my flight to Australia gave me the perfect opportunity for a stopover.  And so it was that I spent five days getting re-acquainted with the sights, sounds, smog, and – most of all – the smells of Hong Kong.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQzUEMkcxsiQLtg46wlRDYuFacnNH-HrMX6cb-zZq_7Fo8MK_ttoypOExa7VwgNaL61qBz4UWtgr_-hoTpm2Yy2Z5utFAIP6Dj_PqS7PTwvzdhB0xqg4ueaFVXsY0FkRzWeBswktJ_mkb/s1600-h/IMG_28622.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2862" border="0" alt="IMG_2862" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUegEm_MyVurqLIjJGS8NXqPdFA0kPT69RD4G5_-Id1JFyzzNLxMdKBjPjK438CeulvgGWGw1fi-9nXGOVbUL57t8C1pASCMaEFIPhqID7E7VufSx6VjyFyFidNJ2fM_XQ_eCYoAJ4OIT/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a></p> <br /> <p>On another ALT’s recommendation, I’d booked a room at a hostel in Tsim Sha Tsui near the museums.  It was a nice place; I had a private room with my own television and en suite bathroom.  The bathroom was the one feature I’d been nervous about; in classic Hong Kong style, it was the compact kind where the entire room turns into a shower.  But it actually worked out surprisingly well, and the toilet paper did <em>not</em> get wet, as I’d assumed it would.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxEpKuGur0a7pkDuHX2t32Ds5Cafiyz4PobgVdOp6xBMm_nJhM_9pTT8Fv8OtAPCtPP3B6JcM0-r-UcFFieVNGK7ZGBJEBV-7FZd7my8v36OleVPVKq20O0udcJQr6-bBHsPZri1mj9_6W/s1600-h/IMG_28105.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2810" border="0" alt="IMG_2810" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJch-U7_GqRi7fxkBeZYr63wbxPt776dxX5ygmpqQ9lCDZ44MdBhERpHLo3pa6nsBuA_1V80tb8dAVOQRb1Ht61j7_rTs7EIcD9dKFsJD9Td0vyHMrbwB9abrmebJ1RcwUPLLPtLWSZrOI/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <br /> <p>Having done most of the touristy activities on my last visit, I made my priority spending time with people.  As soon as I arrived, I called up my best buddy from when I’d lived there, and we arranged to meet for dinner.  We spent time together almost every day I was there.  Together we visited some of my favourite old haunts, such as Victoria Harbour, the Central Library, Victoria Park, and, of course, my old church.  Sadly, all my old acquaintances from there have moved on.  Such is the peril of living in the most cosmopolitan city in the world.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkt1oF11YckkX_uK04OF1QF1y-u4qay2u7IDhRPvWigTZEwAoWhbsnQ0aBq4pJubpLunT79DAY-MDQUQ4YQ1b39WgwK_LH5ZPB22DziuWClTITS6MvsWKvWImf_C9Ev_18cfQ8sQmQtycP/s1600-h/IMG_28492.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2849" border="0" alt="IMG_2849" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBfs9Sm8mH752Nne3UeIfkGdRFXWeP4ofB5FD-SVv6DBGOrhEAhontrvqwdRMMDW2LZNdXRyGFAkmQGovXu6ZxuByjmSFkQ3PEd808_p5_Zd-EB0oV6DRyrfSZ2OWIjjdkMkZCdWtjdgxc/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <br /> <p>I also got in touch with a buddy of mine from university, and with my two favourite students from my old school.  My university buddy was nice enough to treat me to dinner in the Mid-Levels, so I paid the favour forward by treating my students to a meal each.  I was a bit nervous about reconnecting with them after so long away.  Four years is, after all, a very long time in the life of a teenager.  But it actually went really well.  They’re not much different from how I remember them, except perhaps a bit less gawky and shy.  And they didn’t seem to feel the least bit weird about seeing their old English teacher again.</p> <br /> <p>I met one of them in T.S.T., and he took me to see 1881 Heritage, historically the Marine Police Headquarters, which had recently been turned into a hotel.  Built in the 1880s and renovated in the past five years, it’s a charming specimen of colonial-era architecture combined with modern design.  My favourite features were the historical time ball tower (used to signal the time to passing ships), and the mock schooner standing in the middle of the courtyard.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw3GQxWY3jYpmWH_fjanCkaEnb5C56fOkW7gTbe-cXyeBGthvkMNxDMe6jg4pEPvkz_dnhkqC_wqMGgI2hAX1fGerZsqOj6RKrT1VOJQwGd_RQon9wqXr0Y7r2b2XtIPz1U1WCjsjpr7yV/s1600-h/IMG_28532.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2853" border="0" alt="IMG_2853" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSp3oK_-b6WA00dLTTuabLFCWONLjtpiCyQJZZV_E_WCwxSGDuCMBaUFIb1D9ueilzQiZW90D220Yonx3_8iqgHN1Z9eQYtA5R4W2K52I8IIZxOp8pP9ibQvQvKUmLfQimaJdQRHEnP4F3/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a></p> <br /> <p>My other priority in Hong Kong was <em>food</em>!  As I mentioned <a href="http://blueiceteaslogbook.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/and-still-i-havent-clue-june-2012_30.html" target="_blank">before</a>, I’ve sorely missed Hong Kong cha siu (barbecued pork).  So I made a point of having at least one really good cha siu meal.  My buddy and I also went out for yum cha (dim sum and tea), where I was able to have a cha siu bao (barbecued pork bun).  It was as good as I’d dreamed it would be!</p> <br /> <p>I also had a couple of egg tarts, another Hong Kong specialty, and, of course, milk tea.  Sadly, I didn’t manage to make it to any dessert restaurants, interesting little places where you can have surprisingly tasty dishes made with such unlikely sounding ingredients as tofu, black sesame paste, lotus seeds, and sago.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1EdbE7oHsCxxz1tA8HdTKzZXKvmcirtoPnCvwIc2mr4moWXhOG26DPUqH2eEM9yYSpGFHSlhnX53xwmfHMMf7EPk84jemRwGIR3oztonf5HpwuiSdkKIminjjWK5ms6OEgIs5SNkpfOV/s1600-h/IMG_28098.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2809" border="0" alt="IMG_2809" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6OVp93hugK37yfXmCp6NVDzdSb5UgiJDI3315AGFemQIq-MHgRDak1XrKP7Qp8L9_hgZlWsVytuciCZ2hFdQdBzum09vgpCsG-2SVTyOouKI2s-pMiKUuSOjUwJijXq7sWez4bbq4jDJE/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <br /> <p>During the small amount of time I spent alone, I visited the Science Museum.  As I remembered, the museum’s permanent exhibit is skippable, but it often has excellent special exhibits.  Such was the case with “Creatures of the Abyss”, an exposé of deep-sea ocean life that came all the way from… Canada!  I had a blast inspecting the model of the colossal squid, experiencing simulated underwater conditions, and learning what happens to whales when they die.  I would have liked to visit the history museum, too, but the one day I had free was the day it was closed.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTw6MOpJMTuGYASl5oXB_PYpx5-_dk-SKDzV1VljKBISckU-gHtg7ODZJFSWds5BBL2HSZF-Hj8-0xGR41OiFp9KpnaSNUTPTq6FU_UfuELwU5Kl2g6ap5S2kODzF1oEudGnqDbfAK0kA/s1600-h/IMG_27772.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2777" border="0" alt="IMG_2777" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxKKA62jrYbaGPPhZK762QwDFBRMPCznp3Dki1ijwCWq0swfrQIqv56qJCSU1BpjEjjAI5RnMbOvPCq11L9V1jVzgpyj7228yS2Ojr76q3n_Cfhyphenhyphenjv3orMPaBjSyvPnmBzpMWGmJ0cIFf/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <br /> <p>I took advantage of Hong Kong’s ridiculously cheap postal service to mail home some last-minute souvenirs I’d been given.  I also took advantage of a visit to North Point to visit my old hairdresser’s for an excellent haircut!  I visited the bank to see if my old account was still active, but learned that the small amount of money I’d left in it had been eaten up in bank fees years ago.</p> <br /> <p>At the suggestion of my students, I went back to my old school to see if anyone I knew was there.  I’d forgotten that in Hong Kong, unlike Japan, summer break is a break for the <em>teachers</em>, not just the students.  So there was no one there who remembered me.  I did go in and take a walk around for old times’ sake.</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHh6f0hn3CJziDphKDA9RfanRv7SJ3sie67r99GYdY6PZSAq1d3VAcQ1xvE1P_0JZi6RR8ZupsJXV5mqSLmBtUKKzbtHZkGez8Mn-E2csylZkkunjnm2FyVUvjHpcDaElqxXmADpLMLBI/s1600-h/IMG_2792.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2792" border="0" alt="IMG_2792" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja9r-0H0Xs8MVLod35zR4hoftM6if0-G6rKJ27Ha1-V1GrRh2cLb_Y1U8TcpDUiB1mY1A-1XnBijyE-jqtJ78tXv0tIlMCPfCrz9FBD_J2B45I4zVbOmkXZAH291_aSR9a-3qSKkREJih8/?imgmax=800" width="324" height="184" /></a></p> <br /> <p align="left">For the sake of nostalgia it was nice to be in the city again, although if anything its biggest effect was to remind me of why I’d <em>never</em> want to live there.  Yes, it has some of the tallest buildings in the world.  Yes, the harbour’s beautiful, especially at night.  Yes, the MTR (“Mass Transit Railway”) system is awesome.  Yes, there’s great local cuisine, as well as every kind of foreign food to choose from.  And yes, everything (except housing) is <em>cheap</em>.</p> <br /> <p>But the city is also crowded and humid and dirty.  It’s home to the most distinctive – and repulsive – smells I’ve ever encountered.  The pollution is so thick you can see it, and every evening you come home with a patina of smog stuck to your skin.  And the economic inequality is massive.  While it might seem cheap to someone earning a foreigner’s salary, it’s hard going if you’re living on the pitiful wages of the working class.</p> <br /> <p>So instead I think I’ll treasure my memories, and seek out good Cantonese restaurants!</p> <br /> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhl6v9I0mObizQWqQJ6Wa5iKGTWbxojR2oClUUlSPLD-zwQMHxBk1yO_gfYAf9YZ0Xe64JSdUHc3Z4dE9pYN189MiXUM5OQwenWqSt81CPqeVxxhEeoIui0EG43upzyymr1t7kloebJl2/s1600-h/IMG_28331.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2833" border="0" alt="IMG_2833" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJjkgRCKnh-BkgbHPjQPJ1IhFYOb100dPhpBjs-tNBKyQWNazfI6399-WcHroNqBSB2dnPicX6UCAZ-7r0AdjgR141tZK8YSOQnkwhWUD5pbBNm2SGd6ENkMFYAvtJvbUBRd0GvrUBYGJK/?imgmax=800" width="324" height="184" /></a></p> <br /> <p>Books I’ve read this week:</p> <br /> <p><u>Sabriel</u> by Garth Nix – Fantasy novel about a young girl and her burgeoning career as a necromancer.  Definitely an interesting story with some engaging characters (I’m especially fond of the cat!), it still frustrates by leaving a <em>lot</em> of stuff vague and unexplained.</p> <br /> <p><u>Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?</u> by Beverly Daniel Tatum – You can guess why I bought this book.  It’s a question I’d asked myself many times in the past, and I wanted to learn the answer.  What is it?  Read the darn book yourself!  It provides an enlightening view of race relations in the United States as seen through the eyes of black people, and I was fascinated to learn about the perspective.  Unfortunately, I found the book less helpful when it came to white people and the steps they can take to combat racism.  Speaking as a white person, I often feel we talk about racism too <em>much</em> not too little.  Certainly I don’t think it made me a more socially intelligent person that the earliest information I got about black people was, “These people used to be oppressed.  Be a good girl and don’t oppress them!”</p> Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-67891595471119869382013-04-12T01:29:00.001-07:002013-04-15T20:06:35.832-07:00’Cause Our Time Is Short - July 2012<blockquote> <p>“Now I have taken my worst wound in this parting…” <br />  - <u>The Lord of the Rings</u>, Book 2, “Farewell to Lórien”</p> </blockquote><br> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGtnJA3Wbo02UxUKzhqCrUDJkym0blPXVeI33Ohm8fZJ7a5S7tzsHrLA69UAyqy4hPXuY9OQwdfQCY2Au6GfD-Mv2hQyfqQRmHl3MdU01EO9v9l4f3h19yQHXxmECuR1pKXxvITumNACd/s1600-h/IMG_26732.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2673" border="0" alt="IMG_2673" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOGAMGoV7jpHuchzRGH6NSMJihDm0t3u9yis3t0cTpPmXY3FEMKYic_eTOc0AuUECRSLOWErdL8mKk7RVP9LX2GsRo_oDREhNiDTz4qkC7kqOniF0w01leq_v_0IuvZh3xUD2qJB2AhNIx/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p><br> <p>I came to Japan with many motives and many plans.  I wanted to gain job experience and self-reliance.  I wanted to expose myself to a new culture, and learn a new language.  I wanted to experience “real life”.  Most of all, I wanted the adventure of throwing myself into a foreign country and learning to swim it.</p><br> <p>In the two years since, I’ve had wonderful and unique experiences I probably never would have had otherwise.  I learned to like miso soup, dislike natto, and make okonomiyaki.  I went to a hot spring, honed my karaoke skills, and got a yukata.  I absorbed enough Japanese to have a simple conversation.  I lived through an earthquake, played Dungeons & Dragons, and lost my heart to a brony.</p><br> <p>And now comes the hard part.</p><br> <p>I spent Canada Day writing the J.L.P.T. (Japanese Language Proficiency Test).  The test is the standard measure of Japanese language skill.  Most people take it because they need the credentials for school or work.  I took it for interest; after two years in Japan, I wanted to see what kind of level my Japanese was at.  I did the easiest of the five levels, figuring it would be more satisfying to do well at an easy test than badly at a hard one.  I think the level was suitable for me.  Most of the questions were within my capability, but I took longer to do them than the allotted time allowed for.  The listening section was easy, as were the reading questions.  The grammar was a lot harder, though, and I didn’t finish the vocabulary section.  Over all I predict a low pass or a high fail as my result, but I’ll have to wait for months to find out.</p><br> <p>Early in the month we had our last monthly meeting and official leaving ceremony.  We listened to some speeches in Japanese (most of which I still didn’t understand), made some short speeches of our own (I kept mine simple), and received our certificates of participation and a souvenir shopping bag from the City of Sendai.  In the evening we had our Leavers’ Party, which was the last official chance for all the ALTs to hang out together.</p><br> <p>The following day was my school’s annual “Chorus Contest”, which featured a surprise performer: me!  I was as surprised as anyone; the idea actually came from the parent I was teaching swing dancing to, and she didn’t have a chance to explain it until the day of the contest.  She invited me to join her and some of the other parents in singing a Japanese song called “Wa ni Natte Odorou” (“Let’s Dance in a Circle”).  Then, half way through the song, she and I broke off from the group and I started leading her in a dance!  Right there, on stage, in front of all my students and teachers!  I was very nervous about the whole thing, especially since I didn’t know the words to the song and hadn’t danced for several months.  But it was a good memory to take away with me, and my students had nice things to say afterwards.</p><br> <p>One of my elementary schools did special activities for my last visit.  These were similar to what we did back in <a href="http://blueiceteaslogbook.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/the-half-way-point-february-2012.html" target="_blank">February</a>, though on a smaller scale.  Once class asked me questions, two did a dance, one gave me a recorder performance and a box of paper cranes, and one class almost brought me to tears singing a Japanese pop song called “Arigatou” (“Thank You”).  Nothing special happened at the other school except that each class gave me a “thank you” card, and the volunteer translators each gave me a small Japanese souvenir.  They were only the first of many.</p><br> <p>I meant to plan an awesome last lesson for all my junior high classes, but ended up being too busy.  Paradoxically, the emotional stress of leaving created a vicious circle of inactivity and anxiety where I procrastinated over everything, accomplished less, and thus had even more to stress about!  There were a couple of weeks there where I was barely holding it together, desperately trying to put on a brave face for my students and not to cast a shadow on anyone else.</p><br> <p>In the end I resorted to an old favourite activity of mine that’s simple but fun.  Since I’d spent months opening each class by asking the students questions about themselves, I opened the last class by having them ask me questions, handing out Canadian stickers as prizes to those who did well.  Then I told them a bit about their next ALT, and made them practise writing by writing down questions for him.  I hope they remember to ask them when he arrives!</p><br> <p>I know little about my successor, but what I do know I’m thrilled about.  The last four ALTs at my school have all been female and my predecessor was from the United States.  So I requested a male from outside North America, and they gave me an Irish guy!  I bet everyone’s going to struggle to work their way around his accent, but hopefully it will help them improve their listening skills.  And my hope is that a man will be able to bond and interact with the students in ways that I didn’t.</p><br> <p>All of the classes gave me goodbye cards, even the second-years!  I will especially treasure the ones from the first-years.  At the end of class I told them, in all sincerity, that they were wonderful, that they were the best group of students I’d ever worked with, and that I would miss them all.  I hope they’re just as enthusiastic for the new ALT.</p><br> <p>The pre-break assembly included a little goodbye ceremony for me, where I received flowers and other gifts.  I wrote and delivered a goodbye speech in Japanese.  I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes, and that the students understood my pronunciation!  I also attended my last work party, which was partly a goodbye for me, though not exclusively held in my honour.  There I received yet more presents, for which I gave a thank you speech, this time in English.</p><br> <p>My church also had a special farewell lunch for me.  The English teacher organised a “maru/batsu” (“true/false”) quiz about me, with the congregants guessing and me supplying the correct answers.  Two of the girls presented me with drawings of myself; the pastor’s wife gave me a framed calligraphy of one of my favourite Bible verses in Japanese; and everyone collaborated to make a video of goodbye wishes.  I gave a speech telling them how great they had all been and how much I was going to miss them, and then we took loads of pictures together.  It was sweet and sad, but there was a silver lining: lots of hugs!</p><br> <p>At my last Dungeons & Dragons encounter, the Dungeon Master made me a gift of the dwarf figurine I’d been playing with.  With that and my character sheet, I can take the character anywhere in the world and use her if I ever want to play D&D again.  Other players gave me gifts which I think correspond to spells or powers or something.  It was nice of them, anyway.</p><br> <p>You know what fiction cliché I’ve never understood?  The Surprise Birthday Party.  How can you possibly surprise someone with a birthday party <em>on their birthday</em>???  Are they so absent-minded they forget their own birthday?  When you say to them, “Hey, let’s do something on [the day that just happens to be their birthday]!”, does it not occur to them that you have something celebratory in mind?  The whole thing seems absurd.</p><br> <p>For <em>my</em> birthday this year (to change the subject entirely) I planned to do nothing special.  I was far too busy for extra socialising, and so stressed I wouldn’t have been good company anyway.  I didn’t mention it to anyone, and those who already knew about it seemed implicitly to understand.  I spent the morning running errands at the post office, the bank, and my local ward office.  I’d taken the morning off, not planning to get to school till after 1:00, but one of the teachers called asking me to come in for the lunch hour.  Anxious as always to oblige, I was dismayed at 11:30 to find that I’d just missed the bus, and that there wouldn’t be another one that could get me to school for more than an hour.  So I did the only other thing left to me in that situation: I walked.  Forty minutes, up hill, in the blazing summer heat, with all my unfinished tasks still weighing on my mind, just so I could satisfy some teacher’s flight of whimsy.  Half way there, I reflected wryly that this was the oddest, least-festive birthday I’d ever had…</p><br> <p>…and suddenly wondered <em>why</em> my co-worker wanted me at school early…</p><br> <p>So when I finally did get to school, sweaty and tired and feeling dreadfully unprofessional, I had an inkling of what was likely to happen.  And when my co-workers brought out the birthday cake (for me!) and started singing “Happy Birthday” (to me!), it wasn’t a <em>complete</em> surprise.  But it nearly was.  So yes, despite my scepticism, despite the fact that I never thought it could possibly happen, this year I had my very own Surprise Birthday Party.  Some of the teachers gave me cards and souvenirs, and the second-year English teacher wished me well and played his guitar for me.  I cried.</p><br> <p>At the end of the month I finished cleaning my apartment, gathered my bags together, threw out the last of my rubbish, and mailed the last of my boxes.  Then my head teacher and accountant came by to officially check me out.  When everything was done, my head teacher gave me a hug and they drove off.  And thus officially ended my life in Japan.</p><br> <p>Final thoughts…</p><br> <p>Things I’ll miss: <br />- Bumps on the sidewalk to assist blind people: I’ve mentioned these <a href="http://blueiceteaslogbook.blogspot.com.au/2010/11/japanese-tourists-august-1-5-2010.html" target="_blank">before</a>, and though I have no need of them myself, I think they’re great! <br />- Free tissues: How do Japanese advertisers make sure you take the flyers they’re handing out?  They attach them to packets of facial tissues.  Nobody needs more scraps of paper, but everyone needs to blow their nose!  I didn’t have to buy tissues <em>once</em> when I was in Japan! <br />- Red miso: I used to rather dislike miso soup.  Then I discovered two things.  1) Miso soup is usually made with fish stock.  Leave the fish stock out for much less fishy tasting soup!  2) Miso soup in North America is made with white miso, which has a mild and uninteresting flavour.  <em>Red</em> miso is a lot more flavourful and tastes ten times better!  I’ve grown to really enjoy a good bowl of homemade miso soup with tofu, seaweed, and <em>no</em> fish flavour, and I’ve also enjoyed red miso used in other recipes.  I’m going to be really sad if I can’t find it when I get home.  I may have to get some shipped to me! <br /> <p>- The counters in the supermarkets for packing groceries: I always find it impossible when I bring my own shopping bag to bag all of my groceries <em>and</em> pay for them in the short time it takes the cashier to process the transaction.  In Sendai, you don’t have to bag your groceries at the cash: you put them back in your shopping cart, wheel them to special counters, and bag them at your leisure! <br />- Cheap D.V.D. rentals: Maybe if North American video stores rented D.V.D.s at 50¢-$2 a disc (instead of $5+) , they wouldn’t be going out of business.  All I know is that I watched a <em>lot</em> more legally rented film and T.V. here than I do in Canada! <br />- Cash society: Here’s a whacky idea: if you want me to pay for something, how about you don’t ask for a bank card?  How about you don’t make me write a cheque, or reveal my credit card number over your questionably-secure phone lines.  How about you let me pay you the old-fashioned way, with, you know, <em>cash</em>!  Like, pieces of paper and metal with a pre-assigned value!  I was consistently amazed in Japan by how many places would accept physical money where North American businesses would have insisted on plastic.  It was done in sensible situations, like accepting cash-on-delivery for online purchases.  (Are you listening, Amazon Canada?  <em>This</em> is how you get my business!)  It was even done in situations where there was a risk to the merchant: I never had to provide credit card details to secure a hostel reservation; I paid when I arrived!  I’m going to miss things like that bitterly when I’m back in less civilised countries. <br />- Karaoke: As you may already know, Japanese karaoke is different from the kind normally done in North America.  In the west it’s usually only found in bars and clubs, with a single person standing at the front and serenading the other patrons to their delight, amusement, or – most commonly – annoyance.  In Japan, karaoke is sung in a private room with a bunch of friends.  The emphasis is on the communal aspect of singing, not on the quality of the singers’ voices.  It’s a lot less embarrassing and a lot more fun!</p><br> <p>Things I <em>won’t</em> miss: <br /> - No express lines in supermarkets: The downside to Japanese grocery stores is that there are no special lines for customers buying twelve items and fewer.  Everyone, whether they have a shopping cart full of stuff or a litre of milk, lines up the same way. <br />- The humidity: When you’re not doing anything more strenuous than sitting down and your clothes are still soaked with sweat at the end of the day, you know it’s too humid! <br /> <p>- Two-hole punches: They make the paper sit less stably and rip more easily, and they’re difficult to align.  We really need to bring three-hole punches to the rest of the world! <br />- Bread: The Japanese seem to have only the vaguest idea of what bread is supposed to be.  You might be able to find a loaf of white, but rye? sour dough? whole wheat?  Forget it!  Most of the bread has sugar in it, and a lot of it has… other things.  Like cheese.  Or chocolate.  Or red beans paste. <br />- Smoking: I’m told the rules <em>are</em> getting tougher, but you can still smoke a lot more places in Japan than you can in Canada.  Be prepared to come home from the bar smelling like you’ve spent a month living on the street.  Also, be prepared to seek out the non-smoking section of restaurants.  And internet cafés. <br />- No central heating: I’ve no doubt that someone who’s <em>actually</em> spent a winter living in a cardboard box would tell me differently, but in the winter time my apartment walls felt like so much paper between me and the cold, and if I wasn’t sitting under my kotatsu, lying in bed, or taking a hot shower, I was shivering in my sweaters and thermal underwear. <br />- Expensive public transport: The average trip in Sendai costs $2.  And if, as my journey from school to the Education Center did, your route causes you to travel by bus, train, subway, and bus again, you have to pay for <em>each</em> of those trips separately.  That’s right, $8.  One way.  Good thing we got our transport supplemented! <br />- Expensive sunscreen: A newbie once asked me where the best place to buy sunscreen was.  “Your home country,” I replied.  Unless you want to pay 20¢/mL for it. <br />- Expensive peanut butter: I counted myself lucky when I found 340 g jars on sale for $4, but I still wanted to yell at someone, “Do you know that in my country I buy this for $3 a <em>kilogram</em>?!!!” <br />- No daylight savings: What’s to be gained by having sunrise at 4:30 a.m., I do not know.  I mean, it gets hot quickly enough as it is; could we not enjoy a little early-morning coolness on our commute to work?  And what’s the harm in having a little extra sunlight in the evenings?  You know, when we might actually <em>appreciate</em> it???</p><br> <p>Things I learned: <br />1) Japanese hair colour does not come in nearly as many varieties as Japanese people like to imagine. <br />2) Japanese people believe that <em>anything</em> can be eaten with chopsticks.  Spaghetti, pea soup, yogurt, anything. <br />3) Quick and Dirty Tips for Speaking Japanese: <br />a) Pronunciation – You know how when you gave oral presentations in school, you were encouraged to <em>move</em> your <em>lips</em> and e-<em>nun</em>-ci-ate <em>clear</em>-ly?  Don’t do that.  In Japanese, the trick is to move your mouth as little as possible.  Learn how to say a “W” without rounding your lips, and an “F” without using your teeth.  When you’ve gotten to the point when lip-reading is impossible, you’ve probably mastered the language! <br />b) Syntax – Word order is commonly flipped around from what it is in English.  When constructing a sentence, if you think of it as English said backwards, you’re half-way there.  If you think of it as French said backwards, you’re three-quarters of the way there! <br />c) Grammar – Remember in high school when they taught you how to write a proper sentence?  Drilled you about nouns and verbs, articles and prepositions, and where to use them?  Yeah… forget all that.  If you want to understand Japanese grammar, think instead of the language you’d use to write headlines or jot notes.  Subject?  Guess!  Verbs?  Who needs them?!  Articles?  What are they???  It’s all about economy.</p><br> <p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br> <p><u>The Amazing Spiderman</u> – I was pretty sceptical when I heard this movie was in production.  Didn’t they <em>just</em> finish making a Spiderman trilogy???  But I was actually really impressed with it.  To be fair, I’d never seen any of the Tobey Maguire films, and in a way, I’m glad.  Without them as a base of comparison, I will say that the story was reasonably interesting, the hero was engagingly likeable, the heroine was surprisingly useful, and the villain was refreshingly sympathetic.  I didn’t know any of the actors (except for Martin Sheen and Sally Field as the obligatorily venerable old folks) but I thought they all did a good job.  This is also the first 3D film I’ve seen where the effect actually felt worthwhile.  I’m not saying it wouldn’t have been good in 2D, but swinging through buildings that look like they’re coming right at you is genuinely fun!  (Three and a half stars)</p><br> <p><u>Swing Girls</u> – Second-rate Japanese movie about a group of schoolgirls who decide to start their own swing band.  Sometimes cute, with some quintessentially Japanese moments, but also cheesy and annoying in places.  (Two and a half stars)</p><br> <p><u>Scott Pilgrim vs. the World</u> – Um, this movie’s, like, really weird, but… it’s also kind of cool.  Like, the plot’s kind of stupid and, the hero is really, annoying.  But the fight sequences are, like really inventive and the humour is all… self-referential.  Or something.  Like… it doesn’t make sense, but it’s like, not <em>trying</em> to make sense.  Which is cool, you know?  (Three and a half stars)</p><br> <p><u>Akira</u> – Quite possibly the most famous animated Japanese movie of all time, and I’ve finally seen it!  Now if only I <em>understood</em> it…  (Three stars)</p><br> <p><u>The Dark Knight Rises</u> – Remember <u>The Dark Knight</u>?  Remember how awesome it was, with its intelligent storyline, interesting heroes, intriguing villains, and gripping action?  Remember how it was the superhero movie that was going to change superhero movies forever?  I suppose the sequel always had a lot to live up to, and though I went into it with high expectations, I also knew that it might well be disappointing.  What I didn’t expect was for it to be so – there really is no other word for it – <em>boring</em>!  Much as I wanted to care about this new story and the people involved, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  Joseph Gordon-Levitt spends the entire film being set up to play a major character, without ever actually getting there.  Anne Hathaway’s character is arguably the most entertaining and fun, but feels utterly out of place in this bleak, sombre universe.  The returnees seem to have lost all enthusiasm for their parts.  And the villain is just irritating!  Whether it’s that that makes the plot-holes so hard for me to excuse, or the fact that there are so many of them, I don’t know, but the story made little sense to me.  Even the action sequences didn’t capture my interest!  All in all, it was three hours of my life I will never get back, and I resent Christopher Nolan for putting me through it.  Especially when I know he can do so much better.  (Two and a half stars)</p><br> <p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br> <p><u>The Hobbit</u> by J. R. R. Tolkien – I re-read <u>The Lord of the Rings</u> last year, yet somehow didn’t get around to this one.  Figured I’d better do it one more time before Peter Jackson goes and ruins – er – "adapts” it.</p><br> <p><u>Things Fall Apart</u> by Chinua Achebe – Not what I was expecting, this novel focuses mainly on the life and times of a wealthy African man, with the invading white colonisers only appearing in the last third of the book.  The meandering plot is more an exposé of life in tribal Africa than a unified story. But perhaps it makes sense given the novel's ending.</p><br> <p><u>Fullmetal Alchemist</u> (Volumes 1-3) by Arakawa Hiromu – I watched parts of the anime in university, and remember it as one of the few that didn’t completely suck.  So when I found English translations of the first three volumes at a used book store, I thought they’d be worth buying.  This was my first manga-reading experience, and I quite enjoyed it.  I’d love to get the rest of the series some time.  Not at $13 a volume, though.</p><br> <p><u>Smashing Saxons</u> by Terry Deary – Part of the <u>Horrible Histories</u> series, which presents history in a humorous format.  It was an interesting read, but I probably would have gotten more out of it had I been familiar with the <em>dry</em> version of Saxon history before hand.</p><br> <p><u>Death Masks</u> by Jim Butcher – My favourite “Dresden Files” book so far!  The story is typically silly, but at least the plot mostly holds together, and I enjoyed the new characters we’re introduced to.</p> Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-66267453970645654152013-03-30T19:52:00.001-07:002013-03-30T20:02:50.510-07:00…And Still I Haven’t a Clue - June 2012<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdY2VfWvbhn1FinEMZhEzyw-4Ww7jYvUH7-CzDzg9OgCvCFFh7lmhyhd-C-m9IAcfkUD8j-Lqygtw8Q0AA1ZrpU5Drrs7tv2mMi6W-COpbba1aAA_UDpW66a49uDpqBYHAVE-DCocW7fQ/s1600-h/IMG_26082.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2608" border="0" alt="IMG_2608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkcBX7MB41u1-SfOJ3AviZ5tbb3Obisl4bM7PJML15MUCbTuLM2zp4QNG0WqPoMRJPAO1kLYCxXt-LL_nI86RSDxrtq4894SMh4vFvJimawOO5iYaPqMn-3DF49PfN-xdm7k2OAXWsU5O2/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p><br/> <p>Ten years ago, my life as I knew it ended.  I lost almost everyone I cared about.  I lost the place that had been my second home for five years.  I lost work, play, and society.  I no longer had the right to free education; getting a job became an expectation rather than a suggestion; and learning became a means rather than an end.</p><br/> <p>Ten years ago, I graduated high school.</p><br/> <p>In the years since, I’ve gotten a university degree.  I’ve worked at a dozen different jobs, travelled abroad, and learned how to live on my own.  I’ve made acquaintances from all over the world and even a couple of friends.  In the last year or so I’ve even begun to think of myself as an adult.  I can look back at my teenaged self and see how limited my understanding was, and how many mistakes I made.  Yet, in many ways, I’m not that far removed from the the depressed, lonely, <u>Hamlet</u>-reading, Marvin-quoting kid I used to be.  I’m still not sure what to do with my life.  All I’ve ever wanted was a nice home, a loving family, and some form of employment that was both gainful and meaningful; yet somehow I find myself perennially hopping from country to country, like an inverse George Bailey.  I never learned to do things that most people take for granted, like drink, date, or dress stylishly; nor did I pick up the knack all adults seem to have of forming relationships easily and dropping them just as blithely.  And if I had to go back to grade thirteen and do it all over again, I’m not sure I wouldn’t make all the same mistakes.  It’s ten years later…</p><br/> <p>Okay, maybe I have a few clues, but it’s still not easy.</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlT77MN7D3W7Jj7DLHdOQGk1FGwlyvVP2iGi2Psxfjr9RVXVkEtGRaSozV7gT0I1pLZbWscUOlIye16A5lMalgb4QsodXqckLAmZKmUYz-cTgzNFxaGtkKduseKBErt_mTGJwSTB9RXHgc/s1600-h/IMG_25942.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2594" border="0" alt="IMG_2594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYbh5NpMjD3sDX_nFH2SEcgYEOZgbhB4XkwzNLGwGZh8rJWz62HrhCZywn0iAR5kK7vOSYB5M2rIcpDgihoEpLN2utSWQjNiP5cfCFCsvtOEOLpcodq_ybz1q5-XpqM2fR20lLeofv3wL/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p><br/> <p>I got to see more of this spring’s sports competitions than any of the previous events.  On Saturday I was lucky enough that the volleyball was being held at my school.  I watched my team beat another in a nail-biting match, and cheered my lungs out as they faced their next competitor.  Sadly, it was not to be, and despite putting on a really good game, they were squarely defeated.  On Sunday I attended the baseball semi-finals.  This was a lot less exciting, but my team did manage to win the game, meaning that they got to play the finals the next day.  I turned up on Monday prepared to show as much enthusiasm for my baseball boys as I had for my volleyball girls, but the game ended up being incredibly dull.  Neither team scored a single run until the end of the last inning, and when they finally did I was so relieved that I barely cared that it was the other team!  At least they cancelled class for the rest of the day, so I had an excuse to go home early.</p><br/> <p>To make up for our weekend of sport we got a holiday on Thursday and Friday, which allowed me one more short trip: a weekend in Yokohama with my tea lady!  We took the bus down to Tokyo on Friday, and spent the afternoon seeing the sights.  We went to the Skytree first, Tokyo’s new tallest building.  It had been under construction for a while, and visible on all of my previous visits to the city.  It was finally open, but tickets to go up it were already sold out for weeks to come, so we only got to see it from the bottom.  We also paid a visit to the Tokyo Tower (now dwarfed by the Skytree, at only half its height), Shinjuku, and Kappabashi-dori.  The latter is famed for its plastic food stores.  No, I don’t mean food that <em>tastes</em> like plastic, like those cheap waxy Easter eggs, tasteless hot dog wieners, or gosh-awful processed cheese slices.  I mean food <em>made</em> of plastic, usually displayed in restaurant windows.  I’ve been a fan of plastic food ever since I first encountered it in Hong Kong and spent months believing it was the real thing!  I would have loved to buy some as a souvenir of my time in Asia, but even something as simple as an ice-cream would have cost me around $40, so in the end I settled for a miniature okonomiyaki fridge magnet.</p><br/> <p>When you think about it, Yokohama is probably the first Japanese city I ever heard of, and the Great Buddha of Kamakura one of the first Japanese icons.  So I was quite chuffed to be making the city the location of my last Japanese holiday, and the statue the destination of my first excursion in that city.  My tea lady and I went out to see it on Saturday, and in spite of the rain we visited many of the surrounding temples, window shopped the souvenir stores, and got some decent pictures of the Buddha itself.  In the evening we went out to Yokohama’s Chinatown, famous for being the largest in Japan.  It was nice to be surrounded by Chinese things again, and the place really did remind me of Hong Kong, but I was still woefully disappointed by the barbecued pork bun I tried.  Why do the Japanese have to fail at making Chinese-style barbecued pork buns??!!</p><br/> <p>Other than that this month’s been mostly about routines and leaving preparations.  I’ve finally booked my flight, which means I now know when I’ll be leaving Japan and when arriving in Australia.  I’ve started to sort through my stuff, deciding which things to take, which to leave, which to send home, and which to put in the bin.  Meanwhile, I still have singing practice one night a week, and Dungeons & Dragons another night.  I’m paying weekly visits to all the first- and third-year classes and to my elementary schools, and eating lunch with my students five days a week.  It’s busy and stressful, and as I enter my final month, it’s only going to get more so.</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_L3rkcHMq_ul_ZG2aD1vmrgknrrXUQvVLEfppccszzZunfZItcXu5mgPA_14lUN9ecIDO5M2FuDsH_fDhJEQAkxqW2b0IZHwk7Yc8MWzbYP1CBURKZH-i4B3ydLcv3ZI5ZzLHJ73jpR_/s1600-h/IMG_25552.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2555" border="0" alt="IMG_2555" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwY79VrC_3cnHYL1jOAEM7WAsCiu-t86HFkLluRC0UYXuSy4uvLDxdH4D3IxAokcigFT-0vy03tSmmavY2d3B_161GZPAVvmTbASUPcml_h_Yi-30IGu7h5MJj6NzQDjqWLDNOPM8d4tI5/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p><br/> <p>In the news this month, an especially gruesome story has been added to Canada’s surprisingly long list of grisly murders.  It started back in May, when the Conservative Party of Canada received a package containing a human foot.  Yes, that’s right, a <em>foot</em>!  This was followed by three more packages (addressed to the Liberal Party and two schools in Vancouver), a human torso in a suitcase, an apartment full of blood, an internet snuff video, and an international manhunt that ended with the arrest of the killer in Germany.  This is a level of disturbing that I don’t really think the words “WTF???” are adequate to deal with, so I’ll just say that I’m glad I’m not the person who opened any of those packages.  Or, obviously, the victim.</p><br/> <p>In other news, science fiction writer Ray Bradbury has died.  I know him as the author of <u>Fahrenheit 451</u> and numerous short stories, and though far from an expert on him, I enjoyed and respected his work.  In Japan, the last fugitive members of Aum Shrinrikyo have finally been captured.  Aum (which is actually the Sanskrit word “om”, pronounced “ōmu” in Japanese) was the organisation that released Sarin gas in the Tokyo subway system in 1995; the arrests mean the end of a seventeen-year manhunt.  And in Australia, an inquest has definitively ruled that the 1980 death of Lindy Chamberlain’s baby was the result of a dingo attack, and not because of her or any other human’s interference.  I know nothing about this case other than what was in the movie <u>A Cry in the Dark</u>, but I gather it’s a big deal in Australia and that people there are glad to have this issue resolved.</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAxOXLx3fs3cgtG4dKI3Q9EqUuDGuLS5q27D0_zlxkv_1EIvgn-cC1nASCH1-dbIgKEI_pcxFYIPbxls19QGizZ_7aiCL8lLUmma8b9B-CNNylaMTGqgt5IvFstlulmezolXPv5CK7z4E/s1600-h/IMG_25832.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2583" border="0" alt="IMG_2583" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDCbw50Aw177EnbzT7bDOceEWb04EXXS7Fh9z77QGY3P3rw_i-ItDXizZgNoGlxu7y9I7FJJmOB78VbTNFAIqCfVjsDjcmBUBkh7T1B82cGIF4NV1L_3AQBTRfzAsxXZr5Ksmd6cWlIdQ/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> </p><br/> <p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br/> <p><u>Rajio no Jikan</u> – Clever Japanese comedy about the production of a radio drama and the impromptu revisions that get made in the process of airing it.  Full of bright humour and sharp satire, this is one movie that any fan of films about the media has to watch!  (Three and a half stars)</p><br/> <p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br/> <p><u>A Wizard of Earthsea</u> by Ursula K. Le Guin – My first time re-reading this book since I was a child.  I had mixed feelings about it back then, and I’m still not sure what I think of it.  I respect the ways in which it deviates from standard fantasy motifs, but, while I enjoy some of the more horrifying elements, it seemed unnecessarily dark.  Oddly, I <em>thought</em> I understood the story, but now I’m not so sure, and I came away from my second reading even more confused than I went into it.  Might be a good idea to re-read the rest of the trilogy and check out the other Earthsea books too.</p><br/> <p><u>Stardust</u> by Neil Gaiman – My first Neil Gaiman book, a kind of modern fairy tale about the intersection of Faerie and Victorian-era England.  Not an outstanding work of fantasy, but entertaining and good enough to make me consider reading more of Gaiman.</p><br/> <p><u>The Last Unicorn</u> by Peter S. Beagle – That’s right, I read it again!  It’s that good!  And it’s going on my list of favourite books of all time!</p> Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-8904798303978884192013-03-06T17:46:00.001-08:002013-03-06T18:03:14.299-08:00Embracing My Inner Geek - May 2012<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLx9T9Nn17l8xvMwcVMsxTXpPEu-yNbitOObD-YD_NdcLewsyeCbk-KjdqVbqMX0uUNu5E24Vgj0mKI7Pgx3QzWVbo8dPPzb7R3ZgN49Z2dVK9uQKABnOKffkCQeZMEpN-MoN0VRdyXfi3/s1600-h/IMG_27022.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2702" border="0" alt="IMG_2702" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlV-wH3Gsft7I5vgDf-Dzpro7mO6AiQTN7vAZuiKtbKxboratNsuppwl8z2V84GPqMFQzektz4tjmmbV8xp_499OiHZFZbuGjj1wEdjy-oawXVDO20nU3NXBlSjsq7MabFGgBwhb77iQ54/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p><br/> <p>I have three precious months left in Japan, and I’m making the most of them.  At school, I’m determined to enjoy my students while I still have them – particularly the first years!  To that end, I’ve enacted a plan I considered and dismissed many times in the past.  Instead of eating lunch in the principal’s office with my co-workers, I’ve started eating with my first-year students, going to a different class every day of the week.  Even though I’ll be leaving soon, the timing feels right: I ate lunch with these students last year when they were in elementary school; I’m just continuing the practice.  And with my tea lady gone, the principal’s office isn’t as inviting a place as it once was.</p><br/> <p>As I mentioned, the new textbook places <em>slightly</em> more emphasis on phonics than the previous ones.  To pick up on that, I’ve resolved to make it a daily feature of my lessons.  Sadly, Japanese schools do not pay much attention to phonics; the best most students learn is a kind of Romanised syllabary, which is useful for sounding out a word like “koala”, but doesn’t help much with “change”, and implies that “stretch” be rendered “sutoretochi”.  But these new kids are bright, and I’m convinced that their reading and pronunciation will <em>both</em> improve if I teach them proper phonics as anglophone children learn them.</p><br/> <p>I’m starting with the very basics: the alphabet.  I’ve made a set of cards featuring each letter and an “anchor word” drawn from the textbook.  Anchor words begin with the letter in question and typically model its most common pronunciation.  I’ve started drilling these words, kindergarten style: “A says ‘a’, ‘a’, ‘apple’.”  “B says ‘bh’, ‘bh’, ‘boat’.”  Etc.  I might not seem like much, but I’m planning a whole regimen to build on it: next I plan to teach start sounds, then end sounds, then vowels.  If the kids are as smart as I think they are, by the time I leave I’ll have them reading and spelling three letter words based on how they sound!  The big challenge will be to keep it fun, but so far the students seem to be enjoying the drills, and I plan to practise using Bingo and other games.</p><br/> <p>Unfortunately I won’t have time to tackle the interesting stuff: “Magic E”, diagraphs, blends.  All I can hope is that the teacher and/or my successor is inspired to pick up where I left off, or that, at the very least, I plant a seed in my students’ heads that inspires them to pursue a better understanding of English phonology.</p><br/> <p>In my third-year classes, I’ve been trying to make better use of an ALT-produced magazine.  The magazine, created and written by members of the ALT community, uses language specifically tailored to students, and aims to encourage English reading.  Since the textbook is rather short on reading material, and since students rarely read anything unless explicitly told to do so, I’ve been designing activities around the articles in the magazine.  Doing each activity forces the students to think about the content of the article, hopefully guiding them to an understanding of it, rather than simply an ability to listen and repeat it.  And it also gives me an excuse to hand out the magazine in class, where there’s at least an outside chance the students might glance at it.</p><br/> <p>The weather has finally gotten nice, and the leaves have started to return to the trees around my apartment.  May also means the first of our split monthly meetings.  From now on, there will be one ALT meeting for those of us staying in Sendai, and another for the ones going home.  They’ll be helping us through the myriad things we need to do in preparation for leaving the country.</p><br/> <p>Oddly enough, the tail end of my time in Japan is seeing me pick up some new hobbies.  Since March the singing group has reformed and has been practising a new set of songs.  Our aim is to perform them at a special ceremony where we present the money we raised to a support programme for orphans.  So far no one’s sure when this ceremony will be; for my part, I don’t care.  I’m happy just to have an excuse to sing!</p><br/> <p>The leader of our singing group is a teacher who works at the international school.  Recently, he’s managed to get me involved in another activity.  One night I heard him talking to another ALT about a game he was playing, something involving “halflings” and “paladins” and “encounters” and “alignments”.  It all sounded suspiciously familiar, so I asked him about it, and he explained that he was trying to recruit some gaijin for his Dungeons & Dragons group.  Like everyone else, I’ve heard of Dungeons & Dragons, and I even knew people who played it in high school, but I’d never played it myself.  “Want to join?” he asked.</p><br/> <p>So for the past couple of weeks I’ve been discovering the weird, fantastic, and highly derivative world of D&D.  It’s a steep learning curve for me.  I’ve never played anything like it, and it’s taking me a while to figure out all the different skills and moves and which dice to roll in which situation.  All the same, it’s been kind of fun.  I decided as a newbie I should play a character who was good at fighting and wouldn’t have to do a lot of thinking or decision making.  So I’ve made myself a female dwarf fighter with a battle axe, a throwing hammer, and a chip on her shoulder.  She’s an expert in smashing things, and she’s also built like a tank, so she’s happiest in the thick of the action.  The other players seem to like her, and as long as there are bad guys to kill, I quite enjoy playing her.</p><br/> <p>Only one other gaijin has joined the group so far, one of the South African ALTs.  He in turn has been introducing me to another geeky subculture: bronies.  A “brony” is an adult fan of the T.V. show <u>My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic</u>.  I of course remember <u>My Little Pony</u> from my childhood; at one time I owned several Little Ponies myself.  But until he told me about it I’d been all but unaware of the new T.V. show based on the franchise, and completely unaware of the adult fan following it has attracted.  He’s given me several of the episodes, and I’ve been watching through them, but so far I’m afraid his attempt at indoctrination has failed.  The show is cute and harmless enough, and I’d certainly let my children watch it if I had any.  But why it should generate so much enthusiasm among thirty-year-old males remains a mystery to me.</p><br/> <p>My tea lady invited me to a concert put on by one of Sendai’s more artistically-focused high schools.  It was really impressive; my students can play well enough, but I’ve never seen them march, dance, and play brass instruments all at the same time!  I also attended the international school’s annual musical at the invitation of our singing instructor.  Being put on by children aged between six and seventeen years, it wasn’t great, but as free entertainment goes it was quite satisfactory.</p><br/> <p>In the news, this month the world was treated to that most portentous of celestial phenomena: a solar eclipse.  I was particularly excited about it, as the event was clearly visible in Japan on Monday morning, at just about the time I was heading for work.  The eclipse was total in Tokyo, and while Sendai is a few degrees of latitude north of there, we were still close enough to witness the partial version.</p><br/> <p>Contrary to my expectations, a partial eclipse does <em>not</em> present itself as a disc of blackness visibly passing across the face of the sun.  For that, I would have needed the special glasses, and I was unable to find any.  Instead, what I noticed on my walk to work was a curious dimness, as though the sun, though clearly visible in the sky, was shining at only half power.  The effect lasted a surprisingly long time: an hour or more from start to finish.  Towards its end, just before the start of class, one of the science teachers lent me her eclipse glasses, and I was finally able to look directly at the sun and see the huge bite taken out of it.  Next time I’ll have to buy my own pair, so I can watch the whole thing properly.</p><br/> <p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br/> <p><u>Men in Black 3</u> – A completely unnecessary sequel to <u>Men in Black</u>.  Josh Brolin does a decent turn playing a young Tommy Lee Jones, and Will Smith irritates me far less than he used to.  I was also rather fond of the trans-dimensional alien character.  But the plot is unoriginal and full of holes and loose ends; the villain is more annoying than threatening; and the special effects are remarkably poor.  (Two stars)</p><br/> <p><u>Men in Black II</u> – I decided I should probably round out my knowledge of this trilogy, and found part two much like part three: mildly entertaining at times, but on the whole forgettable.  (Two stars)</p><br/> <p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br/> <p><u>The Neverending Story</u> by Michael Ende – While I’m on my children’s classics kick, I decided I was past due to re-read my favourite novel of all time.  One of the most surprising things about doing so was how <em>short</em> it seems, and how <em>quickly</em> I can get through it now that I’m all grown up.  It’s still a brilliantly rich and imaginative story.  And the last few chapters hit me just as hard as when I was a teenager; it was all I could do to keep from crying several times.</p><br/> <p><u>The Last Unicorn</u> by Peter S. Beagle – A remarkably sombre and sorrowful fantasy tale utterly unsuitable for adaptation as a children’s film.  I’ve been familiar with the plot since early childhood, thanks to the cartoon version, but I was still blown away by the story and the writing.  To my surprise I enjoyed the second half of the book far more than the first, and was impressed with how real the characters felt in a world that is in other respects gleefully fantastic.  I think I may have to read it again!</p><br/> <p><u>Summer Knight</u> by Jim Butcher – I think the Dresden Files may be past its prime.  Harry’s latest adventure has a plot that is almost incomprehensible and villains who are stupefyingly powerful in theory yet prove absurdly incompetent in practice.  There are too many characters that aren’t sufficiently developed, too many twists that aren’t adequately explained, too many intrigues that don’t make sense.  I’m also starting to notice cracks and inconsistencies in the mythology.  Butcher needs to reign in his style a bit, and focus more on writing <em>well</em> than writing a lot.</p><br/> <p><u>The Girl who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest</u> by Stieg Larsson – The unintended conclusion to the inadvertently foreshortened Millennium series, this book nonetheless wraps up all the major story elements in a more or less satisfying way.  Over all, I’d say the Millennium trilogy is a worthwhile read, primarily thanks to its heroine.  I have to say, however, that I think Larsson goes overboard in his use of rape and misogyny as marks of villainy.  I was already an un-fan of the <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/StrawMisogynist">Straw Misogynist</a> trope when Joss Whedon was abusing it, and its rise in popularity isn’t making me dislike it any less.</p> Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-50210465180667912292013-02-21T21:40:00.001-08:002013-02-24T21:39:19.073-08:00Nice to Meet You, Too - April 2012<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwd2AxPgT5G7pqb68-8T8oPHGp8rrIOlBQXAm0yKi19KLqYJgiIOFqijfAM-CAAxgJdqddUD_zwVhKsDYzX7m9VvsMFqKZwR38MESaa7gI2ufqNDtfeZCd7EsukKpF4f3iSXnDORLpQX1P/s1600-h/IMG_24912.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2491" border="0" alt="IMG_2491" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGN6q_jTh3Bz4hOTyXD2d9CBOWaA49HoU_AgCt2yvqZQvdkgEqtbzrMCk6e2VL84p95HJvBP692uSSSDsl4-owVS57h5FuHZT3Yu_i0QJ1DYe2LQmgZ0HGc-Ydg3d-Gmdwpd0hS8-T6gj/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p><br/> <p>After all the shuffling around that had occurred last year, it was a bit of a shock to walk into the staffroom on my first day back and find my desk in the exact same place as I left it.  There are very few new faces on the staff, and the only change in the seating plan is that the first-year teachers (who are now second-year teachers) have collectively swapped spots with the third-year teachers (now first-year teachers).  There’s a new principal, but as I didn’t spend much time talking to the last one, the change doesn’t affect me much.  All the English teachers are the same.</p><br/> <p>There is, however, one change that I’m taking hard: the loss of my tea lady.  I miss being greeted with a warm “Ohayo, Aisu-Tii!” every morning, her bright smile, the opportunity to wander into the accounting office and strike up a conversation with her whenever I feel bored.  I feel exactly like Bertie Wooster without Jeeves: a helpless baby who can barely tie his own necktie without assistance!  The new tea lady seems quite nice, and I plan to be as friendly with her as the language barrier allows.  But she lacks her predecessor’s linguistic adventurousness, and though we may get along, there’s no way we’ll ever have the same kind of relationship.</p><br/> <p>My consolation is the prospect of a new school year, with new students and a new curriculum.  You may recall from an earlier post how chuffed I was about some of my elementary school students last year.  Well, many of those elementary school students are now my first-years!  I’m looking forward to teaching them: they’re so smart and enthusiastic, and they already have a solid English foundation from last year.  I’m sure with proper instruction they’ll easily outstrip their sempais* in no time.</p><br/> <p>One change, or rather non-change, that’s disappointed me is that all the teachers are staying with the same classes.  Not the same <em>grades</em>; the same <em>classes</em>, i.e. the same groups of students.  This means that all the English teachers have moved up a grade with their students or, in the case of the third year teacher, seen off the graduates and taken on the new arrivals.  I find this system ludicrous for a couple of reasons.  One is that it just makes sense to me to rotate teachers among different students, since not all teachers are equally good, and not every teaching style is suited to every student.</p><br/> <p>The other is that I’m aware of my teachers’ particular strengths and weaknesses, and they seem ill-suited to the grades they are now teaching.  The new third-year teacher has a lot of experience and a good understanding of the grammar she has to teach, but she also has by far the weakest English of the bunch.  Her students have had her for two years already, meaning that they’ve never had an English teacher who can speak more than what’s necessary to teach the curriculum.  The new second-year teacher rarely brought me to class last year, and I don’t expect him to bring me to class this year either, meaning that his students will have precious little ALT time during their junior high school days.</p><br/> <p>The silver lining is that the strongest English-speaker will be taking on the new class.  To me, putting her with the weakest class seems like a waste, but it does mean yet another advantage to those fabulous newbies.  Since she’s also pretty good about using my ideas, I’m also looking forward to collaborating with her on this new group.</p><br/> <p>This year sees the introduction of new textbooks.  In junior high school, we have an updated edition of the same textbook that is slightly accelerated and more challenging.  I’m particularly pleased to see that the first-year book includes a few pages on phonics, something that’s been sadly lacking in previous years.  In elementary school, there is a brand new textbook, which I’m told is slightly more advanced, although it looks similar to the previous one.</p><br/> <p>Another change in one of my elementary schools is that there’s now a designated English room and teacher to whom the students all go for their English lessons.  In theory I really like this idea, as it associates English with a specific space and teacher, and allows the students to be taught by an expert rather than their usual teacher.  In practice, the “expert” speaks almost no English; indeed, one of the third-year teachers speaks much better English than he does!  The new set-up has also led to some confusion about teaching roles in the classroom.  The new guy seems to think that <em>I</em> should be delivering most of the content, and that his job is to act as a facilitator.  I, on the other hand, am used to the local teacher taking the lead, and to assisting only with technical matters like vocabulary and pronunciation.  I have no wish to change the system now, especially so close to my time for leaving, so I’m insisting that he run the class and give me specific instructions when he wants my participation.</p><br/> <p>I’ve decided I’m not going to try starting up the swing dancing club again this year.  The only person who’s come to classes at all of late is the mother of a student, and it seems farcical to keep the club running just for her.  A part of me is tempted to try it out just to see if some of my wonderful freshmen can be enticed to join.  But I’ve been too discouraged by previous years’ experiences, and anyway, I’m only going to be around for four more months.</p><br/> <p>The weather stayed fairly cold in April, but as the month drew to a close it became more springy, and the cherry blossoms have started to appear.  I was determined to enjoy them properly this year, so I and the Singaporean ALT went down to Ogawara, which we’d heard was a prime viewing location.  The river there was lined with cherry trees, and we took a leisurely late-afternoon stroll along the waterfront, admiring the blooms overhead and the petals which had carpeted the ground.  I was also able to see more at Nishigaoka park, where I went with some of the church youth and was able to take some better pictures.</p><br/> <p>For Golden Week I mostly stayed home and did spring cleaning, but I did also make it out to a nice yakiniku restaurant with the Singaporean ALT and my tea lady!  It’s nice to be able to spend time with her even thought I no longer see her every day.</p><br/> <p>In the news this month, Canada has decided to discontinue the penny.  This came as a slightly unpleasant shock to me, as it will mean the sudden worthlessness of my penny collection, and I’m rather fond of the penny, with its maple leaves and its bright coppery redness.  But in other respects I guess this seems like a sensible decision.  I asked my mom if she could mail some of my pennies to me, thinking that they’d make a nice collectible souvenir for my students.  But it turned out the cost would have been too much or the time too long for it to be practical.  I still plan to put some aside, though.  Perhaps they’ll be worth something later on.</p><br/> <p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br/> <p><u>Cars</u> – A cute premise realised in a formulaic and unoriginal story.  Not Disney’s best work.  (Two and a half stars)</p><br/> <p>* “sempai”: Japanese for “upperclassman”, a schoolmate in a higher grade.</p> Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-35676402203590510602013-01-30T00:34:00.001-08:002013-02-24T21:39:15.447-08:00Kyoto - March-April 2012<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaBX-q-sDo28ctyDElAw4YnzBYZBTkWqGF_yfw3IOtGVbHrViOrZ7zZzJ-8HPnZMbCSeoR9-XD4iWW6x6ne0V3nYdBnT_yu8nY9ZXye6pFRhP2DOWinPSPWapBuX2htH85DfkrboTsTlE/s1600-h/IMG_19412.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_1941" border="0" alt="IMG_1941" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfSUpKoP38Tf5kPr-qv5WhKruzaOSZdWQnI2hTOu3M3NcTr-LPAoS3iK61T4nbozF2uv67jqLRCwO4ZR7sgoQxgg7BUbFRTrrCSQh6_720S2Iko7IcHqemOLEIGPBvgIqHhYtnYcIxGrZu/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a>  </p><br/> <p>If there was one city, other than Tokyo, I always knew I would have to visit before I left Japan, it was Kyoto.  I’d considered going there for Golden Week last year, but had been forced to re-think my plans after the earthquake.  So for my last spring break and my last big trip in Japan, I decided to devote an entire week to Japan’s historic capital city.</p><br/> <p>Due to poor planning on my part, I ran into some difficulty on the way there, and ended up having to get a night bus to the city, arriving early Sunday morning, rather than Saturday night as expected.  I’d booked myself eight nights in a “capsule hotel”, something I’d heard of before but never experienced.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it turned out to be a very nice place.  The bunks were sarcophagus-sized and stacked width-wise, with a curtain for privacy and locker space underneath.  Other than that it was much like any other hostel I’ve stayed at.  I checked in, took a long nap, and got up in the early afternoon to begin exploring the city.</p><br/> <p>Sunday was overcast and rainy, which was unfortunately characteristic of the weather while I was there.  I started with a walk down the street, which took me past Kyoto City Hall, where some kind of parade was happening.  Then I went to Kyoto Imperial Park for a look at the Imperial Palace and a walk around the grounds.  Sadly another unfortunate feature of the weather was that it was not yet sufficiently warm for spring to have begun.  I’d hoped to arrive in “hanami” season, with the cherry trees in bloom, but with the exception of a few plum trees, the city still looked wintry and lifeless.</p><br/> <p>I couldn’t actually get into the Imperial Palace, but after a peaceful but uninteresting walk I found myself at the Kongo Noh Theater.  I was just in time for the last of three plays being performed that day, and since it isn’t every day one gets to see a Noh production, I bought a ticket.  Obviously I couldn’t understand the dialogue, but the programme included a plot summary, which allowed me to follow along with the story.  This was fairly minimalist; the play seemed to be built on monologues and dance sequences more than on plot.  Though I found the singing style strange, it grew on me after a while, and I started to think that it made a very good device for communicating the grief of the characters.  On the other hand, the characters also used the same style when they should have been communicating more positive emotions, so perhaps it’s just a stylistic device that I as a foreigner don’t understand.</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOtPtbPxYGr_45i5ME9nytuWD4v0GuQqINb-NsmAkOXvZ2tXdYjAANQ5K5gkBxgfEE5uoTFNKpAMeWHlT7ix74Yfto9DgiBLonSbVujnZB0ByM7alOjWfU5Rkjodx3Ad0f0D6SF66NMwt/s1600-h/IMG_19222.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_1922" border="0" alt="IMG_1922" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgui1Kg6sCKGahF_9A_E7nj1__zzOfuIAKR70V9e_7eJ08WVNubAsmN9Jn1FLVZvb2uo4ThD2gqxgwBvVc7wF1J4x7i8ROvD4BOVcYrWgabjotgLXb9h3W12BOtDoa3-0PG0A5RaxqNLNGZ/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="139" /></a> </p><br/> <p>On Monday I went to Nijo Castle, which was rather more interesting than the Imperial Palace.  The grounds could also have benefited from more greenery, but were pleasant to walk around nonetheless.  The building itself was quite interesting.  The “nightingale floor” was deliberately designed to squeak when walked on, in order to prevent sneak attacks.  Walking on it, it really did seem as though there must be birds hidden in the rafters.  The interior artwork was also worth seeing.  Unfortunately, we weren’t able to take pictures inside.  I went to see Toji temple in the afternoon.</p><br/> <p>Tuesday was one of the nicer days of my visit, and I spent it visiting Kiyomizu-dera.  The building, whose name means “Clear-Water Temple”, is one of Kyoto’s most famous sites.  As interesting as the temple itself, however, is the walk up the Higashiyama (“eastern mountain”) to it, which takes one up several interesting streets lined with artisan shops selling jewellery, pottery, snacks, tea, sake, and all kinds of souvenirs.  I took several hours over the climb, picking up lots of presents for friends and family members, and even a couple of things for myself.</p><br/> <p>By the time I reached the temple itself, I was pretty tired.  I can’t say I found the place singularly thrilling, and without leaves the view over the tree tops wasn’t that interesting, either.  Still, it was a famous Kyoto site I could say I’d been to, and the trip afforded a great shopping experience, if nothing else.</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvRmOBRj0hUhQzq1a6DrUaz9tcTe_alNS1CO73tRAGu5udRtp3qQePRvD4-4ggFcxff4r_Kn_hVyz_zgzy4agnRAqg6_ax8y8hMt87zyW00bxtZvOiSxtD492V4Kn9vovP9suvDwAke-wu/s1600-h/IMG_20725.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2072" border="0" alt="IMG_2072" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBuL8Tpv0s80-cUDGHGyfHgIngA0NtuvfqHB1XSRyjwIoWKZwPqv0nTSnYovQebkQTPeNSrpsWaWBoHRN89VY5aj9XIxjR87tjpXMwA-Nj48QIgW4geEVGvZAp_oys3AQeAszY2w-_SpZ/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p><br/> <p>I made Wednesday my Philosopher’s Walk day.  The Philosopher’s Walk is a walking route along a canal that became famous for being the favourite of a local professor.  The canal was unimpressive, and, as already noted, the cherry blossoms that would have made the route lovely had yet to appear.  The walk was notable mostly for intersecting a number of temples.  I started at the southern end with Nanzen-ji temple.  It looked much like other Japanese temples, but had one surprising feature – a red-brick, western-style, Meiji-era aqueduct!  I spent several giddy minutes walking under and over and around it.  It’s not every day one sees an aqueduct, especially in Japan!</p><br/> <p>I saw several other temples along the route, my favourite of which was the peaceful and secluded Honen-in.  Eventually I came to the highlight of the route: Ginkaku-ji, the silver pavilion.  This building is, rather disappointingly, <em>not</em> coated in silver.  It was originally meant to be, but the plans were never realised.  I’m not sure that was a bad thing, as the building would most likely have turned black without constant polishing.  At any rate, the bare wooden structure was nice enough to look at, and the grounds pleasant to walk around, in spite of the rain.  It would have been nicer with fewer other tourists, though.</p><br/> <p>In the afternoon I took the bus down town and visited the Higashi-Hongan-ji and Nishi-Hongan-ji (the East and West Hongan Temples).</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0W1lt1lasJhkynQoHOgyDCJbobLkTPnvvJyOb1AnJ2Ckh1EftEv9OO52S3pMWkPUXf-4fLzT7CZNEZcixnt1Nya0YSpcq3VLEg7ARuFl1JAMWdPJjT7APLkiSFEh1oMgByOSJVeUUxnn/s1600-h/IMG_21242.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2124" border="0" alt="IMG_2124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk52tBUEYDCY_40byzi4PSTBi6s-g7jFYFYOhHaFSLJnb6-LhMteKLHa35NJnOE3Jc7OY0HWi8AVpWMGkOvbtVRlVz-hBRwLrYMG3ksM5ZKRS4l2ECDVaQxe0UMED3PPGLkTptkdO-CQEx/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> </p><br/> <p>Thursday was the only other day with a good forecast, and so the day I chose to visit Nara.  Nara was briefly the capital of Japan, and home to some of the oldest temples in the country.  It’s also famous for deer, which seem to get almost as much promotion as the buildings!  As I explored the temple district, I saw the animals all over the place, as well as signs warning us to be mindful of the deer, and carts selling deer crackers.</p><br/> <p>I started at Kofuku-ji temple, looking around the buildings and the attached museum.  Then I went and saw the Nara National Museum’s collection of religious statues.  The main destination of my visit was Todaiji temple, home to one of the largest bronze statues of Buddha.  It was indeed the most impressive sight I saw that day, though also the most crowded.  I took my time walking around the temple and admiring the bronze statue from different angles, then took a walk down to the quieter and more out-of-the-way Kasuga Taisha shrine.</p><br/> <p>Only on my way back to the station did I finally succumb and purchase some “shika-sembei”, special crackers made just for the deer.  As soon as I started passing them out, the deer, which up until then had been content to ignore me, started crowding around me, nuzzling, head-butting, and pushing each other aside in order to get at the treats.  I think I liked them better when they didn’t know I existed, but I suppose feeding the deer in Nara is one of those things you just <em>have</em> to do.</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxuUpj54XtK5wODcN8oS2OK0L8uCm5PpDS3FHRmFp4URuaj0QTwgynECkdmiGdjdxHzB50nxJTnebewTUlzgzOHhJySVP0Y48Slw6a28_MfeM1-qBrnWP7pRtNC3tqG5U_V0mPf3T9-RQQ/s1600-h/IMG_22801.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2280" border="0" alt="IMG_2280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1d2dDwSo_qClVTjI-6jxfyJk7jN8V-NkAH9puvWWITukG86Wg_SW28xhcJjq_72pzHNBejSNUMq8evtlZz3DtozGrx33EVrUG8JgeFw7RmCacfZG8J1SeNdevvHep0-e_bSN8ZVEgOohq/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p><br/> <p>Although my visit to Kyoto was mostly devoted to temples and other historical sites, I did manage to make time for one slightly more fun location: Toei Uzumasa Studio Park.  This one wasn’t in my guidebook; it had been recommended to me by another ALT who had visited Kyoto previously.  The place was a bit expensive and difficult to find, but it made a nice break from routine.  It wasn’t a traditional theme-park with rides and cotton candy; it was an outdoor film set designed to look like a Meiji-era town, complete with houses, pubs, shops, and even a red light district.  Apparently it’s the kind of set they use to film period T.V. shows, though whether or not actual filming went on there I wasn’t sure.  There were, however, actors walking around the place dressed as geishas and samurais, and having duels with the visiting children.</p><br/> <p>It was all wonderfully kitschy, especially the motorised plastic sea monster that would awkwardly elevate its head from the town pond, spout a little steam, then just as awkwardly re-submerge itself.  But it was also fairly interesting, and I took my time wandering from building to building.  The local theatre was showing some kind of play about ninjas.  I didn’t understand any of the dialogue in it, nor could I discern good guys from bad guys, but there was lots of fighting, and that part was fun!  Another interesting performance was a demonstration of fight choreography used in T.V. dramas.  That was fairly easy to follow, as they simply showed the techniques used to make stage fighting look real.</p><br/> <p>Perhaps the oddest attraction in the park was a gallery displaying prints of all of the Forty-Six Views of Mt. Fuji.  These woodblock prints portray Mt. Fuji at different angles, distances, and times of year, and the most famous of them, The Great Wave off Kanagawa, is one of Japan’s most recognisable images.  I’d seen several of the pictures before, but this was my first opportunity to view them all together.</p><br/> <p>There were lots of other attractions at the park, like a little anime museum and the Japanese movie archives.  When I had finally seen all I wanted, I took a bus up to the northern end of the city for the last must-see location on my Kyoto sight-seeing itinerary: Kinkaku-ji, the golden pavilion.  This one actually <em>is</em> covered in gold leaf, and in the mid-afternoon sunlight it’s quite a sight – even to someone who’s been all over Japan and seen all number of temples.  It is, however, one of those sights that’s more to be consumed than experienced.  You wait in a long line, jostle to the front for a good view, snap your pictures, and then wander off to the souvenir store.  At least we were able to wander <em>around</em> the pavilion and see it from different angles, although the first one was still the best.</p><br/> <p>On my way home, I was surprised in the metro station to come across a troupe of folk musicians playing beautiful music with a traditional northern-European sound.  I was so enraptured that I bought their CD right there on the spot!</p><br/> <p align="center"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIvFKW0d7zPsnJJ-r5jWPSaiwfUnS-D753qqM_GtQfcu_dBnA6RSornsYZna0yVAYEMqt7BGhE7E3hmeN02JpE46IqtVew7oNtwN2Z6YEg63rMLj284ZOLc5wBXMRl_0w5tZmwl78pS7_E/s1600-h/IMG_20902.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2090" border="0" alt="IMG_2090" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzp23IB4WyojNCUDpNmMf6x3sPXdjT-3qz8-_A2A3VSiE7dd7e1tvV_u-8dtm-EnqMPI6P1iialo20UbdQttftLr2qqb8SOKBZVLVueKeKiGpzizs0OQX6yv8qx8qEfrvtgaoG5iEpBi0p/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p><br/> <p>My last day in Kyoto was rainy again, so I set it aside for indoor activities.  First, I tried to go to the Kyoto National Museum, but it was closed for renovations.  Instead, I crossed the street and visited the Sanjūsangen-dō temple, famed for housing one thousand and one statues of Thousand-Armed Kannon.  I kept dry for forty-five minutes, walking up one side of the hall and down the other.  Then, unable to think of anything else to do, I retired to my bunk for the rest of the afternoon.  In the evening I returned to the Higashiyama for the evening light-up of the temples and view of the city.</p><br/> <p>And so my time in Kyoto came to an end.  The most famously beautiful of Japanese cities did not charm me the way I hoped it would, though I’m willing to chalk that up to time of year and circumstances rather than deficiencies in the city itself.  I left on Sunday morning, richer in souvenirs and poorer in yen.  But I did not return directly to Sendai, because first I had to make another pilgrimage that I’d been promising myself for the last year.  Before I left Japan, I had to return to the city I’d visited on my way home from Osaka and that had, in less than twenty-four hours, stolen my heart: Kanazawa.</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtNuAH9Z4p8p0Qs9Qp3i8eBmkawUGnsC4kCm9h-9Gpq3uairuMkEKjRtaKaZf2ZFwGJ7zlr-5Ld53_7_uJbDj2lkmZWNRO9MEdrd5UvjzQS8ZUZ10GZ0tloZ6w-JmuU7IYT9v4r4lZv7y7/s1600-h/IMG_20185.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2018" border="0" alt="IMG_2018" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2vAxX7a37Usxweo3pjcYuZxCIS7-8zfM0pWZVJw7RphRvYg6-r2AmI_4-zv1CUZix6MokeLpYalGqaT4owlqriELMDZ7tXZlkF90ZXoQEdDOUFmZyxGszb7SNIXdEcF4lQk3zbxnJ64-C/?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> </p><br/> <p>Why I love Kanazawa: I get asked this question a lot, and am always at a loss for a good answer, but here are a few factors that spring to mind.</p><br/> <p>1. Waterways – The interesting part of the city lies between two rivers, and is criss-crossed by canals, meaning that if you enjoy a leisurely stroll along the waterfront there are plenty of routes to oblige you. <br />2. Old buildings – As I mentioned on my previous visit, Kanazawa sustained much less damage in the Second World War than bigger Japanese cities, so you see a lot more old-fashioned architecture around. <br />3. It’s <em>tiny</em>! – Kanazawa is a medium-sized city, but the touristy area is only about four kilometres across, meaning that from Kanazawa Station there’s virtually nowhere you might want to go that you can’t walk to in under half an hour.</p><br/> <p>I’ll admit that explanation sounds a bit lame, even to me.  I’m met with scepticism whenever I deliver my Kanazawa pitch, and often I feel it myself.  As I walked from the train station to my ryōkan (“guest house”, the same converted kimono shop I’d stayed at last time), I asked myself what on earth I was doing there.  But then I walked from the ryōkan through the samurai district, and I suddenly remembered the answer: Kanazawa is lovely!</p><br/> <p>I stayed in the city for only three nights, enough, I felt, to see the it properly without getting bored of it.  On the afternoon of my arrival, I walked through the local neighbourhood, admiring the traditional houses once occupied by the samurai class, and toured one of the nicer ones with a particularly striking garden.  Then I took myself out for some of the best okonomiyaki I’ve ever had!</p><br/> <p>Since Kanazawa is such a small city with so many waterways, I thought the perfect way to explore it would be by bicycle; and, as luck would have it, I could rent one for only $4.00 at my guest house.  So the next morning, after some embarrassing difficulty with the lock and a pit-stop for snacks, I set out bravely for my third bike-riding adventure in almost a decade!</p><br/> <p>It actually went quite well.  Though I may not have been as fast as expert cyclists, the bike certainly got me around quicker than my feet would.  I kept to the sidewalks, hugged the kerbs, and walked the dangerous-looking bits, and in that way I managed to get myself around without mishap or injury.  Well, sort of.  I actually took a tumble <em>walking</em> through the Nishi Chaya district when I put my foot in a gutter that was missing part of its grating.  I pitched forward onto my face, tearing my jeans, skinning my palms, and cutting my knee.  I sat by the side of the road for five minutes sobbing like a child and trying to mop up the blood with a wet wipe before a friendly worker at the local deaf-people’s centre took pity on me and ran out to help.  By the time she’d gotten me cleaned up and bandaged I was ready to continue my adventure.</p><br/> <p>And you know what?  It didn’t ruin my day the tiniest bit!  Because Kanazawa is lovely and the weather was perfect.  So I saw the Nishi Chaya (“west tea-house”) district and the temples along Tera-Machi-dori.  Then I cycled across town to the Higashi Chaya (“east tea-house”) district.  I enjoyed a relaxing ride along the river, taking pictures of some of the more interesting bridges; walked around the tea-house district and took a tour of one of the tea-houses; and somehow ended up drinking tea and eating sweets at a temple with the caretaker and his wife.  In the evening I went to a recommended restaurant for my first ever Tongan meal, which again proved quite enjoyable.</p><br/> <p>Rather than let next day’s rain spoil my mood, I devoted it to museums, visiting first the Museum of Contemporary Art, and then the Museum for Traditional Products and Crafts.  The former unsurprisingly failed to grip me, but the latter was full of beautiful goods traditionally made in the area.  I spent my last evening at the ryōkan, hiding from the rain and sharing Japanese take-away dinners with the other patrons.  I’m deeply grateful I got the chance to visit Kanazawa for a second time, and I am now officially putting it at the top of my list of Favourite Japanese Cities.</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqFTwjvBYVCp_N-hpaCTQ0xRk-bH3o2F6QoIkhl3QqIoyYTSDBME5HenjsX1Qocbe2-zupEmIscWaNxNAng0DB3_p-QmIU31u5B3QthnnCpXBJwFp4YrBcXrD0X15gKuW4GYXGFv1eAHxL/s1600-h/IMG_20972.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2097" border="0" alt="IMG_2097" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWk4Qeg2U-weySJ7U5s0ymdmV7UACm9ZE_8EOnJ2Pch_gLiKKI39-DDs-4GCTK_mW0UwrH7g1y-AEvsGHW8KyiDsCNfOM__EukhISF9UAVv_DlY28GAVbD-ZD1MsDG9Pczb5ww_7JEC_Q/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p><br/> <p>My return trip was much better planned than my outbound one, but proved as much an adventure as my post-earthquake journey to Osaka!  When I got to the train station, I found that the strong winds from the previous night had delayed the trains, and there was no telling when I might be able to get to Niigata.  I swallowed my panic, having committed to working the following day, and tried to find an alternative.  It seemed the only bus directly from Kanazawa to Sendai was a night bus, and there were no seats available until the <em>following</em> night.  (Can I just take this opportunity to point out that if you’re only going to run one bus between two cities, it seems unnecessarily sadistic to run it at such a time as to deprive your helpless vacationer of a night’s sleep?!)  Upon making further enquiries, I ascertained that there would be <em>no</em> buses or trains from Kanazawa to <em>any</em> of the stops on my planned route, at least until the trains started running again.  So, rather than submit to a seemingly inevitable fourth night in Kanazawa, I cashed in my ticket and boarded a bus to Toyama in search of better luck.</p><br/> <p>I’ll spare you the details of my journey.  Suffice it to say that fifteen hours, two buses, three trains, and five cities later, I finally pulled into my own proper station.  I’d never been so happy to see Sendai in my life!  I felt stupefyingly lucky to have made it back within the day, and not a little proud of my own resourcefulness.  I felt even luckier after talking to my Singaporean buddy, who was coming back from Hiroshima on the same day and endured a nightmare journey including an unscheduled stopover in Tokyo.  We both agreed that, as long as we’re calling it “home”, there’s no place like Sendai!</p><br/> <p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYiZoXTFtioAKNJtk8Wrwxgf6MtBVmXKXdgPCMpiNkpAblZO8dXOvuvOQwuYAbdSKyueE0pkhFj4ybRPmQaEcNf98Ma-2j7rQepeN0RoxV5Z2Im-2edb6vPHkWKz-SyYkxiuTKYMtyKxw/s1600-h/IMG_20422.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2042" border="0" alt="IMG_2042" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaOTa_uc_EG6BYIN8qVt4AW23fiUStd9kUQQiIIoL-JG4sMFmo7FRDYhes4gDBjW4Lin8zYYdQv1YyhmrFuaukZLtpTonY_PCIhjZ9SubCPRR5MxazAlkORqQLDb7kSeZANkR4ol51DnU/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p><br/> <p>Books I’ve read this fortnight:</p><br/> <p><u>Winnie-the-Pooh</u> and <u>The House at Pooh Corner</u> by A. A. Milne – Okay, so technically I listened to the unabridged audio-books rather than reading them.  But if you’re going to be pedantic about these things you could also say that I didn’t read <u>The Lord of the Rings</u> until I was eighteen, and never read <em>any</em> of the Shannara books – only listened to my father read them.  In any case, it had been too long since I’d read these books, and I was happy for them to keep me company on my trans-island journey.  They are, just as I remembered, delightful books, full of humour, wisdom, and some of the most loveable characters in children’s literature.  I enjoyed every chapter, and found myself getting tearful at the last one.</p><br/> <p><u>The Girl who Played with Fire</u> by Stieg Larsson – The much-improved sequel to <u>The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo</u> – and incidentally the only novel of the Millennium Trilogy with the same name in Swedish and English!  Like its predecessor, it takes a while to get interesting, but it has an intriguing story and spends much more time on its title character.  Lisbeth Salander is definitely an engaging protagonist, with a good share of both exceptional abilities and character flaws, and an eccentric yet intelligible personality.</p> Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-23558062485720042872013-01-11T00:22:00.000-08:002013-02-24T21:42:39.187-08:00Not Nearly as Interesting as Last March - March 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jiuld1c6i_TMFFjt4QexFmoP9avv33D7gL3gyrtEwoypLXpphPdp-7dCQlg6xGPI27uI6Xg169ki-3lF2TMo60O3_TXnxChp073Vv_q9N17Oc9bae-WDhiDA35HkW8VNbEDfdjM4md6g/s1600/IMG_2683_thumb" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" eea="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jiuld1c6i_TMFFjt4QexFmoP9avv33D7gL3gyrtEwoypLXpphPdp-7dCQlg6xGPI27uI6Xg169ki-3lF2TMo60O3_TXnxChp073Vv_q9N17Oc9bae-WDhiDA35HkW8VNbEDfdjM4md6g/s200/IMG_2683_thumb" width="150" /></a></div><br />
<p>The past seven months have been a continuous déjà vu for me. Novel experiences from my first year in Japan have, on the reliving, become familiar, better, or less interesting. Every event in the school calendar is greeted with recognition: Ah! It’s School Festival time again! Can I attend any of the sporting events this time? How am I going to spend <em>this</em> Christmas? What? You mean I have to <em>do</em> something for the skills-development conference this year? So, of course, as we progress through the month of March I keep looking back to the previous one for cues on what to expect. And about half-way through the month the system breaks down as I try to remember the last two weeks of the school year.<br />
<br />
That’s funny, I think. What happened at graduation last year? Why can’t I remember the end-of-year party? And what <em>did</em> I do for the last two weeks of class? And then it comes back to me: Rice balls. Sleeping on the floor. Quiet desperation. Earthquake.<br />
<br />
My brain, seduced by the routine, finds itself anticipating disaster: looking forward to power-outages and emergency rations with the same inevitability as staff shuffles and spring break. I wonder how my co-workers can avoid this trap, but then this is only my second year in Japan; everyone else is used to routines that <em>don’t</em> involve earthquakes. The Friday before graduation I half expected an earthquake to happen, but 3:00 came and went and the ground stayed put. And so I had yet another first-time experience in Japan: the experience of a normal March.<br />
<br />
We had a lot of parties this March. There was one for the “fourth year” teachers that was held at a miso-themed restaurant. It made me appreciate how much I’ve grown to like miso during my time here, and how much I’m going to miss it. We had another one the night of the graduation ceremony, and my tea lady organised one for some of her teacher friends. We had karaoke again after that one. I tried my vocal chords at “Ue o Muite Arukou” (a famous Japanese song known inexplicably to the English-speaking world as “Sukiyaki”), and freaked everybody out by screaming in the middle of the second verse of “Comfortably Numb” (What??? It was <em>right there</em> in the lyrics!!!)<br />
<br />
I also met up a couple of times with the Australian ALT who’d been here last year. She came back to Sendai to visit friends and participate in the earthquake anniversary observances. Surprisingly, these weren’t nearly as big a deal in Sendai as I would have expected. Perhaps it’s partly because I don’t speak the language, but it didn’t seem to me that the people around me were planning on doing nearly as much commemorating as one would have expected. When I asked my co-workers they talked about staying home or maybe doing some shopping. It seemed odd to me that people <em>from Japan</em> – i.e. those I’d expected to take the earthquake anniversary most seriously – seemed least interested in observing it. Perhaps Japanese people just deal with things differently from Americans.<br />
<br />
There <em>were</em> commemorative events happening, however, and I was sure to go to them. On Sunday, March 11, a memorial service was held at the International Center. It was attended by the mayor, the prime minister (the new one, not the one who’d been in office when the disaster happened), the emperor, and his wife. It was all in Japanese, of course, which made me feel a bit excluded; still, I was glad to be there, and when we observed the moment of silence, I hoped that I was engaged in a process of collective grieving that transcended language and nationality.<br />
<br />
Students in schools around Sendai made banners with messages of encouragement on them. After the memorial service we went for a walk in the arcade and looked at them. One of the ALTs who’d left last year also published an <a href="http://pepironalds.com/buy/" target="_blank">essay</a> about the experience.<br />
<br />
There was also an event the weekend before the anniversary. The Tohoku Kibō no Saiten (Celebration of Hope) was a worship event featuring gospel artists from different countries and American evangelist Franklin Graham. The event ran for three days, but I only made it to one of them. I enjoyed some of the music. The line-up included Tsutomu Aragaki, whom I knew of through my second-year textbook. I quite enjoyed his singing, as well as Alfie Silas, the Tommy Cooms band, and 3rd Wave, a Korean group who sang in English and actually <em>didn’t</em> butcher the language!<br />
<br />
I was less impressed with the sermon. I’d heard Franklin Graham’s father Billy Graham speak in Ottawa back when I was in high school. I seem to remember that I liked him at the time, though I was much younger and the situation was very different. At any rate, Franklin Graham’s sermon was not what I was expecting. It wasn’t subtle, or sensitive, or even particularly interesting. It was one long alter call, relying heavily on repetition and shouting, and leaving very little room for genuine persuasion or argument. The earthquake itself, supposedly the reason for the event, only came up once in the sermon – when he warned that anyone who left the stadium unsaved because of timidity or reluctance could have their lives snuffed out as quickly as the tsunami victims did, and lose their chance at salvation. I was reminded inescapably of the “Death Comes Unexpectedly!!!” sermon in <u>Pollyanna</u>, and expected it to be equally effective. For a long time it looked like no one was going to respond to the call, but eventually people started coming forward in a trickle, and then a rush. Which I guess was a good thing, otherwise Mr Graham would have looked pretty silly. For my part, I went away feeling disappointed and not a little insulted.<br />
<br />
I decided to eat normally for Lent this year, instead forgoing entertainment for seven weeks. I’ve given up some of my favourite web sites, which have of late been making too many demands on my time, as well as all movie and music rentals, purchases, and downloads. Not books, though! I thought it would be a big sacrifice, but I’m actually coping pretty well, and pleased that I now have more time for other things.<br />
<br />
I didn’t do anything special with my graduating students. One of the third-year classes, my favourite, gave me a “thank you” card, which was unexpected and sweet. The five students who had written replies to the Canadian children I gifted with the Canadians’ original letters. The rest I’ll probably have to leave with my supervisor when I go. One of the girls actually got a reply from Canada! I didn’t get a chance to see it, but it’s nice to know that some meaningful communication was able to happen between children on opposite sides of the world.<br />
<br />
The graduation was much as I remembered, except that this year it ran as scheduled. Also, the female teachers of the graduating classes all showed up wearing kimonos! This is apparently an annual tradition, but it was a shock to me, as they’d forgone the practice at the austerity ceremony.<br />
<br />
The end of the school year has brought one more change: staff shuffles. These were announced on the last day of school before spring break. There are actually very few teachers leaving my school this year. We’re losing our principal, but all of the English teachers are staying. I knew a lot of that already, as teachers are told in advance whether they’ll be changing schools. But there’s one group of people who <em>aren’t</em> told in advance, who have to wait for the very end of the year to learn where they will be in April: the support staff. And as it turned out my accountant was staying, my nurse was staying, but my favourite person on the entire staff was leaving us. That’s right: my tea lady. My wonderful wonderful tea lady, who’s been my mother and aunt and big sister, my friend and tour-guide and teacher for as long as I’ve been in Japan. I’m devastated. I can’t imagine what the school’s going to be like without her. True, we’ll probably keep in touch; true, I’ll have lot’s of chances to see her again. But it won’t be the same.<br />
<br />
I’m particularly annoyed that she’s being transferred to an elementary school. At a junior high school she’d at least have an ALT, but at an elementary school the best she can hope for is one to visit once a week. If she was getting a new ALT at least I could be philosophical about it and comfort myself with the knowledge that someone else could benefit from knowing her. In my opinion, anyone so friendly, so helpful, and so skilled in the art of gaijin-go* is really wasted on a school with no foreigners. Unfortunately, there’s nothing at all I can do about it.<br />
<br />
In the news this month, Mexico had an earthquake. This caused me some brief concern, as my sister is currently visiting the country, but she’s fine. The Canadian government is enacting new “tough on crime” legislation. The legislation involves things like tougher mandatory minimums for some crimes. I’ve been listening to some of the debate around it, and it sounds like it has the same problem as a lot of similar legislation: it isn’t so much “tough on crime” as “tough on <em>criminals”</em>. Which seems like a pretty poor substitute, if you ask me. Dear Mr Harper, if I am ever the victim of a crime I expect it <em>might</em> give me a modicum of comfort to know that the perpetrator will serve ten years rather than five, but you know what I would find a thousand times <em>more</em> comforting? <em>Not</em> being the victim of a crime in the first place!!! With that in mind, how about you take the money you want to spend incarcerating prisoners for longer, and instead spend it on measures to <em>reduce</em> crime? It may not sound as exciting, but I think we’ll <em>all</em> be happier in the long run!<br />
<br />
Books I’ve read this month:<br />
<br />
<u>Grave Peril</u> by Jim Butcher – I had the same problems with the third “Dresden Files” book as I did with the second. I like Michael, the new character we’re introduced to, and I enjoy the mix of urban fantasy, medieval mythology, and film noir themes. But I wish Butcher would let up on the violence a bit!<br />
<br />
<u>The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo</u> by Stieg Larsson – A pedestrian, run-of-the-mill crime thriller, notable mostly for being quite long and taking a good while to get interesting. I liked the title character and wished the book included more of her, but despite being a putative central character, she actually receives surprisingly little page-time. The novel’s original Swedish title, <u>Men Who Hate Women</u>, gives a much more accurate picture of what the novel is about.<br />
<br />
* “Gaijin-go”: A term I made up meaning “foreigner language” or “the way a foreigner talks”. Basically, Japanese simplified for non Japanese-speakers.Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-58967703310791234282012-08-06T08:14:00.001-07:002012-08-06T08:23:36.876-07:00The Half-Way Point - February 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWX2D8Ediozb_IU35cDmYfz2ko1z3gCm7ClhAkGDuK_Tnw_tTgxil4da-eaIlYlV0CJ5aw-vY5xFH8f06a3sszeJD6VqFZp1_npXSJ8hYuqJHRv1bWUWUxQWfSVAEpVeHJrUOjvBTOIJ6Y/s1600/IMG_1851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWX2D8Ediozb_IU35cDmYfz2ko1z3gCm7ClhAkGDuK_Tnw_tTgxil4da-eaIlYlV0CJ5aw-vY5xFH8f06a3sszeJD6VqFZp1_npXSJ8hYuqJHRv1bWUWUxQWfSVAEpVeHJrUOjvBTOIJ6Y/s200/IMG_1851.JPG" /></a></div>
<br/>
<p>February is the beginning of my last six months in Japan.  I anticipate it being a stressful and busy time, similar to my first six months, as I transition from my time on the JET Programme to the next stage of my life.  It’s a good thing I stayed two years, and not just the one!  But now I’m half-way through my second year, which feels at once like a short and a long time.  On the one hand, I’m far closer to leaving Japan than to arriving, and I only have a few months left to experience the country.  But as things are currently shaping up, it looks like I’m still only half-way through my time abroad.  You see…</p><br/>
<p>I’M GOING TO AUSTRALIA!!!</p><br/>
<p>It actually only took me a few days to hear back from the Australian embassy with the news that my visa application had been accepted.  In the event, it seems that all talk about having to send in my passport to get the visa attached was bunk; Australia has embraced the computer age and is issuing its visas electronically.  Now I have to start making other preparations, such as picking a point of entry, booking a plane ticket, and perhaps looking for a job.  Since I know very little about Australia, I don’t have much preference for which city I go to, but I have an acquaintance in Brisbane and another in Melbourne, and I think it would be sensible to start in a place where I have at least one contact.  Looking at a map of Australia, I found that the two cities mark off the country’s comparatively urbanised south-eastern coastline, with Sydney pretty much smack in the middle.  At first I thought that would make travel between them fairly easy, rather like travelling between Ottawa and Toronto, or Sendai and Tokyo.  Then I remembered that Australia is a <em>continent</em>.  Ha!  I’ve been spoiled by living in a small country.  It turns out it’s more like the distance between Ottawa and <em>Fredericton</em> or Sendai and <em>Osaka</em>!  And that’s just between Sydney and one of the other two.  That means that wherever I go, I’m unlikely to be making any weekend trips to other cities, so I’d better pick somewhere nice.</p><br/>
<p>How long I’m going to stay is still a matter of some uncertainty.  My visa will last for a year from the moment I enter the country, but whether I actually stay that long will depend on my ability to find work.  There is also a possibility of staying longer, since the visa can be renewed once, but at this point I don’t anticipate wanting to do that.  The most likely scenario, therefore, is that I’ll be in the country for a year, bringing my time away from home to a total of three years, or thirty-six months.  Eighteen down…</p><br/>
<p>Apart from my weekend in Tokyo, the only excursion I made this month was to Zao in Yamagata.  I went there to see the Juhyo, which I had missed out on last year.  Juhyo, or “Snow Monsters”, are trees covered with snow and ice.  That doesn’t sound too special in and of itself, but apparently there are unique conditions on Zao’s ski slopes that cause the snow and ice to form in unusual shapes, creating the illusion of limbs and faces.  Think “snow-Ents”, and you’ll have a pretty good idea of the result.</p><br/>
<p>It was my first time in Zao in the winter.  We got there in the early afternoon, and enjoyed a soak in the sulphurous hot-spring before venturing up the mountain.  Temperatures at the resort were about average for winter here: minus single digits.  I’d been warned, however, that temperatures on the slopes were very cold, and bundled up accordingly.  It’s a good think I did!  The temperature at the top of the mountain was apparently -15°C, but it felt more like -30.  I’d forgotten what a proper wind-chill was like.  We’re talking physically painful exposed-skin-will-freeze-within-two-minutes kind of cold!  I was dressed for it, but just barely, and I only stayed outside for a few minutes before running indoors again to thaw my face and defrost my fingers.</p><br/>
<p>Actually, indoors proved to be a much better place to take pictures from, though the change in temperature was so dramatic that my camera lens fogged up and I had to hold it next to a heater for several minutes before it was clear again.  In the end I was able to get some good shots, though.  It's hard to say whether the monsters were really worth the time and expense that went into seeing them, but they were pretty unique, and did indeed look as spooky, monstrous, and goblin-like as one could hope.</p><br/>
<p>The school year will be ending soon, and I’ve already paid my last visit of the year to one of my elementary schools.  I haven’t talked about elementary school this year, so I’m going to do so now.  This year has been marked by an increased emphasis on English education at the primary school level, especially in grades five and six.  That means that, whereas last year I divided up my visits between all the different grades, this year most of my time has been spent with the fifth- and sixth-year students, with only occasional visits to the lower grades.  I much prefer this new arrangement for a couple of reasons.  Firstly, visiting the same classes consistently has allowed me to get to know one group of students well, and develop rapport with them and their teachers.  It means that I’ve been working with a graduated curriculum where the students study several different topics over the course of the year.  And because the students are getting regular English exposure, they’re able to absorb more complex language than simply practising the same “How are you?” greetings week in and week out.</p><br/>
<p>The second reason is much more remarkable: I like the students!  If you remember grades five and six, you probably remember it as the age when kids were at their most obnoxious, rebellious, and disrespectful; when they made life hell for their teachers and classmates; when they’d figured out that adults weren’t infallible, but hadn’t yet realised that <em>they</em> weren’t either.  Japanese kids go through the same phase.  I’ve heard horror stories from other ALTs about how unruly their students are, and it sounds exactly like how I would expect kids their age to act.  But here’s the amazing thing: my kids aren’t like that!  I don’t know why.  I can’t explain it.  It’s most unnatural.  But they’re lovely.  Attentive, disciplined, good at absorbing information.  But not in the mindless, robotic way (unfairly) associated with Japanese schools.  They’re genuinely enthusiastic, cheerful, and eager to learn.  Teaching them over the past year has been a real pleasure, and now that our time together is finally ending, I find I’m really going to miss them.</p><br/>
<p>It’s a mark of how much time I spent with those kids that the teachers apparently thought it would be good to plan special activities for my last day.  In all of my fifth-year classes, therefore, the students put together a special programme.  In two of them they ran games, and I participated.  But in the class before lunch, they went all-out.  That class is my favourite – for which I give full credit to the teacher.  He’s a really fun guy who clearly has a good relationship with his students and has created a relaxed atmosphere in his classroom.  The result is the most enthusiastic class of English learners I’ve ever encountered.  Because every lesson is a game, the kids aren’t nervous about using English; they even seem to enjoy it.  But the class isn’t utterly frivolous, either.  The teacher drills his students, and makes sure they get things right.  He regularly sets aside time at the beginning of each lesson for the students to ask me questions (which I like partly because it gratifies my ego, but also because it’s a chance for the students to have meaningful interaction with someone from another culture), and defers to me when questions of grammar and pronunciation come up.  I even know the students’ names – or, at least, ten of them, but that’s still ten more than in any of my other classes!</p><br/>
<p>For the farewell class the students put on a talent-show.  There was piano-playing, a recorder performance, dancing, and even magic tricks.  Then the students and I asked each other questions.  They asked me in Japanese, of course, and I did my best to understand without translation, though for their sake as well as mine I answered in English.  Some of the questions: “What music do you like?” (One boy told me he liked Aerosmith and the Spice Girls.  I told him, truthfully, that I <em>love</em> Aerosmith, and suggested that we do karaoke some time.); “Have you eaten pizza?” (Yes, I’ve eaten pizza many times, <em>but</em> I’ve never eaten <em>Japanese</em> pizza.); “What’s your favourite Japanese phrase?” (“Sooo desu ka…?”  I had to say it twice before they got that <em>that</em> was the answer.)</p><br/>
<p>In the sixth-year classes, we finished up with “The Big Turnip”, now my favourite lesson from the elementary school textbook.  It’s a simple story of a group of people working together to pull a turnip out of the ground.  At my other elementary school they just had the students listen to the story and say the accompanying chant, but at this school they actually had them perform the dialogue as a play.  As I watched them rehearse it over a period of weeks, I came to realise that it was a really good play for English learners.  Firstly, it got the students pushing their personal boundaries by forcing them to get up and act silly in front of each other.  I’ve been told that the main goal of foreign language elementary school education is not to teach language but interpersonal skills, and I can see how performing a play together could be the logical culmination of that curriculum.  It also gives the students a lot of practice with simple vocabulary and language structures, hopefully with the effect of ingraining it in their brains for future use.</p><br/>
<p>In one of the classes, only a few groups performed, but in the last class of the day (my favourite of the two) every group performed a part of the play, and I judged the best one.  Then I took a picture with all the students.  During the standard greeting, when they asked me how I was, I pretended to cry and answered, truthfully, “I’m sad.”  Then they told me that all but two of them would be going to my junior high school next year, and that cheered me right up!</p><br/>
<p>In the news this month, singer Whitney Houston has died.  I only knew her for a few songs and a couple of movies, but I remember her having a great voice, and I’m sorry to see her go so young.</p><br/>
<p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br/>
<p><u>In a Sunburned Country</u> by Bill Bryson – Known outside North America as <u>Down Under</u>, this tale of the author’s travels in Australia was of particular interest to me as I hope to make it my next destination.  As in <u>A Walk in the Woods</u>, Bryson is mostly concerned with what’s out to kill you – in this case, everything, though he’s particularly focused on crocodiles.  I found it a somewhat useful introduction to the continent, and hope to retain some of the information in it for future use.  I was disappointed, however, that he never made it to Brisbane.</p><br/>
<p><u>Fool Moon</u> by Jim Butcher – Book two of the “Dresden Files”.  So far I’ve got mixed feelings about this series.  On the one hand, I like the author’s sense of humour and the self-deprecating tone and mix of cultural references with which his hero narrates.  I also like the fact that the magic is actually explained in a way that makes sense.  I couldn’t help thinking that if there <em>were</em> real wizards in the world, <em>this</em> is how they would operate.  On the other hand, I found the relentlessness of the action wearisome.  I don’t think a good story needs quite so much violence, and I wonder, if there’s this much blood-shed and trauma so early in the series, what are things going to be like in the later books!</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-53874165208128430032012-06-02T03:11:00.001-07:002012-06-04T03:12:49.670-07:00Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimasu!* - January 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQFtFaRhDAOKJzp97XVVYNn9LOCQ-oAFKV6gom9qKV5ADc13H3vpmee76g3x_stqgM6uldJgi6940V8wI9pNTi9wsqKS1Nptu9HW4qiiDUMZToF1pq0xO3WQHRV_16hPAXxteWEWuyi2o/s1600/IMG_1816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQFtFaRhDAOKJzp97XVVYNn9LOCQ-oAFKV6gom9qKV5ADc13H3vpmee76g3x_stqgM6uldJgi6940V8wI9pNTi9wsqKS1Nptu9HW4qiiDUMZToF1pq0xO3WQHRV_16hPAXxteWEWuyi2o/s200/IMG_1816.JPG" /></a></div>
<br/>
<p>You know what I hate?  Visa applications.  As I approach the middle of my last year in Japan, I’ve had to make a decision about what I want to do next year.  I’ve had it in my head for a long time that I’d like to see more of the Pacific rim before I go home, particularly Australia and New Zealand.  After all, it’s unlikely that I’ll be visiting this region again any time soon, nor be this footloose when I’m older.  And it doesn’t make much sense in terms of time, money, or environmentalism to travel all the way home and all the way back.  I’m kind of homesick, but I think I could stand another year abroad, and I’ve saved enough money that I think I can afford some travelling.</p><br/>
<p>So I’ve decided to apply for an Australian working holiday visa, which allows one to live and work in Australia for up to one year.  If I get it, I’ll be travelling there in the summer and staying till the visa expires or I run out of money.  I’ve had to obtain work visas for foreign countries before, but on previous occasions the process was handled by an employer or agency.  This is my first time applying for a visa on my own, and so far I’m not enjoying it.  First of all, there are all those questions that aren’t answered in the instructions, for which you have to call the Australian Embassy, which is conveniently open from 9:00-noon, Monday to Friday.  (I knew there had to be an up-side to getting influenza!)  The good news is that I can lodge my application through the embassy in Tokyo; I was terrified that they’d force me to do everything via my home country.  Asking about payment methods was a bit more complicated.</p><br/>
<p>Me: “How do I pay the fee if I file a paper application?” <br />Friendly Representative of the Australian Government: ”Oh, you don’t need to file a paper application.  You can file on line and pay by credit card.” <br />Me: ”But I don’t want to file on line.” <br />FRAG: ”But the on-line application is much easier and quicker than the paper one.” <br />Me: ”No, <em>really</em>.  I prefer to do the paper one.  So how do I pay for it?” <br />FRAG: ”Well, if you do it on line you can pay by credit card.” <br />Me: ”But I don’t <em>have</em> a credit card.” <br /><em>Awkward silence.</em></p><br/>
<p>Okay, first of all, you have to love – and by “love”, I mean “be infuriated by” – the helpless confusion that sets in when you tell people you don’t have a credit card.  Admittedly I <em>do</em> have a credit card, and my frequent claims to the contrary are largely about being contrary, but for me it’s a point of principle.  It’s a pet peeve of mine how many services these days are only available by credit card.  What about all the people in the world who <em>don’t</em> have credit cards and can’t get them because they’re poor, homeless, or unemployed, or simply have lousy credit history?  How are they supposed to pay for things?  Are they to be denied access to airline tickets, video store memberships, and the contents of the Amazon catalogue just because of their socio-economic status?!</p><br/>
<p>I admit that I’m ranting, and that this is an issue about which I know almost nothing.  But it just bugs me on an intuitive level.  Not to mention that there are all sorts of other downsides to credit cards.  I mean, seriously, you’d think in this day and age we’d have come up with a better way of paying for things than by punching in a sixteen-digit number (which can be stolen by a good enough computer hacker or anyone who gets a glance inside your purse) linked to a line of credit (which may have a limit <em>way</em> beyond anything you’d actually want to spend) that you then have to pay off every month (you know, with <em>real</em> money that you actually <em>have</em>) or risk paying compound interest on (‘cause debt is everyone’s favourite gift with purchase!)  I’m just saying…</p><br/>
<p>Me: <em>(Some time later.)</em> “Oh, you mean you do still accept post at the Australian Embassy?  And you’ll know what to do with a money order if you get one?  Sweet.  Guess I might be coming to visit your country after all!”</p><br/>
<p>Completing the application itself wasn’t actually such a big deal, but I ran into problems again when I realised that I needed to include a certified copy of my passport.  The web site didn’t give me any more helpful information on how to do this than to say that it would depend on the country I was in.  Great!  So, supposing I was in Japan…  I tried asking around about where I could find a notary public or someone else qualified to certify a photocopy, but no one seemed able to help me.  So I was back to calling the embassy again.</p><br/>
<p>Me: “Where can I get a photocopy of my passport certified?” <br />Helpful Representative of the Australian Government: “You can get it certified at any of our offices.” <br />Me: “Wait, you mean I have to take the photocopy to the embassy to get it certified?” <br />HRAG: “Yes.” <br />Me: “I can’t get it stamped by a lawyer or something?” <br />HRAG: “No.” <br />Me: “Well where are your offices?” <br />HRAG: “We have offices in Sapporo, Tokyo, Osaka, and Fukuoka.” <br />Me: “None in Sendai?” <br />HRAG: “I’m afraid not.” <br />Me: “So, let me get this straight.  To complete this application I’m going to have to travel five hours to Tokyo and five hours back, arriving sometime during embassy working hours, so that you can look at my passport and make a photocopy of it?” <br />HRAG: “Or you could mail us the original.” <br />Me: “Mail you the original.” <br />HRAG: “Yes.” <br />Me: “You want me to mail you my <em>passport</em>.” <br />HRAG: “Yes.” <br />Me: “For an <em>application</em>.” <br />HRAG: “Yes.” <br /><em>Long, awkward silence. <br /></em>Me: “Are those the only options?” <br />HRAG: “I’m afraid so.  Well, unless you want to send us a clear photocopy of every page of your passport.  We’ll have to see the original eventually, though.” <br />Me: “I can do that?” <br />HRAG: “Yes.” <br />Me: “Just a regular photocopy?” <br />HRAG: “Of every page.” <br />Me: “And you didn’t think it would be worthwhile to supply this information at any earlier point in the conversation?” <br />HRAG: “If your application is accepted you will have to send us your original passport so we can affix the visa to it.” <br />Me: “Thanks.  I have <em>actually</em> travelled to foreign countries before.  Would you believe I’m doing it as we speak?”</p><br/>
<p>I’d been told that the application process typically took about two months, so I was surprised when, less than a week after mailing the form in, I received an e-mail telling me that to complete the application I’d have to undergo a medical assessment.  As usual, this couldn’t be done just anywhere; it had to be at an embassy-approved travel clinic, the nearest of which was in Tokyo.  And it had to be done within twenty-eight days – not exactly the most convenient time frame for scheduling a doctor’s appointment in Tokyo when you a) live in Sendai, b) have a job, and c) are female.  Fortunately they weren’t too anal about it; I wrote back asking for an extension, and they readily granted me one.</p><br/>
<p>Actually, I would have made the deadline anyway.  I scheduled my appointment for the first weekend in February, taking a bus there on Friday night and getting another one home on Sunday.  I could have made the visit shorter, but as long as I was going all that way I figured I might as well make the most of the trip.</p><br/>
<p>My appointment was early Saturday morning, and took less than half an hour, leaving me the rest of the day for exploring Tokyo.  First I decided to walk around and look at some embassies.  Living in Ottawa, I’ve made an occasional hobby of embassy-spotting, but I’d yet to try it out in the Japanese capital.  I found the German, French, and Chinese embassies, and completely failed to locate the Korean one.  However I soon realised that the biggest embassies tended to be obscured by high walls, and that the most interesting and photogenic ones were the smaller buildings that weren’t too fussed about security.</p><br/>
<p>After lunch I returned to Ueno for yet another visit to the Science Museum.  It took me three trips, but I’ve finally been able to complete my tour of the exhibit!  If you’re ever in Tokyo, I recommend it.  It’s quite good and has interactive guides in English, Chinese, and Korean.  Afterwards, I checked out Ameyoko (a popular shopping street), which wasn’t very interesting, and went to Harajuku to look for cosplayers (I only saw a couple).  I got the bus home the next morning.</p><br/>
<p>Now it’s just a matter of seeing how my medical results turn out.  The cost of my visa application so far?  $220 for the application itself, $210 for the medical exam, $70 for a return bus ticket to Tokyo, and $30 for one night in a hostel (the other one was elective) comes to $530.  And that’s assuming one-hundred yen to the dollar.  The truth is Japan’s currency is actually worth rather more than that; putting the true cost at closer to $700.  Australia had better be worth it, is all I can say!</p><br/>
<p>You know what else I hate?  The skills-development conference.  That’s what they’re calling the annual ALT conference this year; last year it was the mid-year conference.  Whatever you want to call it, I hate it.  Or rather, what I hated was having to prepare for it.  Last year I was a first-year ALT and didn’t have to do anything but attend and bring a poster.  This year I’m a veteran, which means I had to present about something.  In theory I was supposed to do the presentation along with my head teacher.  In practice, she deferred to me for most of the planning and decision-making.  I don’t think she would have contributed anything at all if I hadn’t specifically drawn up an outline designating time for her to talk and specifying what I wanted her to talk about.  That accounted for about five minutes; it was up to me to fill the other sixty-five.</p><br/>
<p>Okay, here’s <em>why</em> I hated the skills-development conference.  It wasn’t just the question of having to do work (which is reasonable), nor of having to become an expert in some element of English education (which is a bit more intimidating).  It was the lack of support we got throughout the whole process.  There was no information session, no instructions on how to structure our presentation, no suggestions of topics they wanted covered.  All the information I got was delivered in Japanese, and came to me via my head teacher, who expected <em>me</em> to explain it to <em>her</em>.  The work of assigning topics was carried out by having each ALT pick their three favourites out of five broad categories, and then assign one to each of them.  Within that category, we were allowed to present on anything we wanted, ideally sharing as much (or as little) as we knew.</p><br/>
<p>I chose to present on technical aspects of English, with an eye to focusing on pronunciation.  It was one of the few elements of English I could claim to know something about, having spent a good part of last year learning the the I.P.A. and trying to teach myself various British accents.  (What?  I have a lot of time on my hands.)  Afraid that wouldn’t be enough, I threw everything I had into the presentation that had to do with pronunciation, reading, listening, and language-arts, only to discover that it would have taken me twice the allotted time to present it all.  Feeling a lot better, I trimmed it down, made a slide-show and a handout to go with it, and got it into a state that was more or less presentable.</p><br/>
<p>In the event the presentation went really well.  I assigned several blocks of time for group discussion, which seemed reasonably productive.  My audience was polite, asked good questions, volunteered answers to my questions, and even gave me good feedback at the end.</p><br/>
<p>The rest of the conference was a mixed bag.  One consequence of all the disorganisation was that we had effectively no say in which seminars we attended.  We’d been given a form to fill out, with the names of all the proposed seminars but no details on their content.  I filled it out, but I could discern no correlation between my choices and what I actually ended up attending.  For instance I somehow ended up in a seminar on elective English classes.  But my school doesn’t have an elective English programme…</p><br/>
<p>There is one good thing about the skills-development conference: it’s <em>over</em>.  And since I’ve already made up my mind that this is going to be my last year in Japan, I know I’ll never have to do it ever again!</p><br/>
<p>Back at work, five of my students ended up writing reply letters to the students from Canada.  There were others who’d expressed interest but never got around to doing it.  The ones who did finish, however, put a lot of effort in.  Not only were the letters so long that I was sure they must have gotten help with them, but most of them wrote them on nice paper and decorated them with pictures.  They brought rough drafts (often themselves very nice-looking) for me to check, and I corrected them only enough to ensure that the recipients would understand them.  I sent them all off in a big envelope along with a letter of my own and a picture of the School Festival display I’d made.  I know I’m sending them ten months after the original earthquake, and that the Canadian students will all have moved up a grade in the mean time.  I also don’t expect I’ll ever hear back from them or learn how the letters were received.  But hopefully a late reply will be better than none.  Especially when it’s coming all the way from Japan.</p><br/>
<p>I mentioned that this fall didn’t seem a cold as last year’s but the temperature seems finally to have dropped, and I’m once more miserable in my apartment.  I’m coping by practically living under my kotatsu, from which I barely move all evening.</p><br/>
<p>In the middle of the month there was a festival called Dontosai, which is apparently a Miyagi specialty.  It includes a half-naked pilgrimage, where the participants run through the streets wearing only shorts, a headband, and sandals (plus a vest for the girls).  I have enough trouble dealing with freezing cold on a regular basis; getting naked in it really isn’t my thing.  So I didn’t participate in it last year or this year.  I did go out with my tea lady to see it, though.  We ate some festival food, saw the big bonfire for ritual burning, and even ran into the group of ALTs who were participating <em>and</em> my school principal, who was also doing the pilgrimage.  They looked cold but brave, and I respected them for it, but I wouldn’t want to be them!</p><br/>
<p>* “Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimasu!”: Japanese for “Happy New Year!”</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-70440514126845469082012-04-29T21:12:00.001-07:002012-04-29T21:32:28.488-07:00Mix and Mingle - December 2011<p>December was a busy month again this year, thanks largely to the reestablishment of the ALT carolling group.  We met for weekly rehearsals throughout October and November, and began performing at the beginning of December.  Our first performance was for sick children at a hospital, which we actually got permission to take time off work for.  When we did our signature number, “The Twelve Days of Christmas” with actions, we got the kids to join in with us.  Afterwards, we joined them for a card-making activity.  We did another performance as part of a YMCA Christmas party.</p><br/>
<p>One of our bigger events was a weekend trip to Kesenuma, one of the tsunami-hit towns.  We visited temporary housing camps for people who had lost their homes, most of them established on school grounds.  One of the ALTs had gotten donations for Christmas presents, and he dressed in a Santa Claus outfit and handed them out to the children there.  We did six performances in all, with better turnout for some than for others, but the people who came seemed to enjoy them, and some of them even joined in with the singing and gestures.</p><br/>
<p>Our singing instructor works at Sendai’s international school, and at the end of the month we joined him for his school concert.  It’s a marker of how small Sendai’s international community is that I ran into several people I knew at the concert, including some of my former classmates from Japanese class, and the missionary family from my church.  At the invitation of one of our members, we went to sing for some orphans, and some of us (though not me) also sang at Donald McDonald (sic, don’t ask) House for Sick Kids.  Finally, we sang and collected donations in the Ichi-ban Chou.  This year the money is going to go to the tsunami victims.</p><br/>
<p>I had a lot of fun with all the events.  It reminded me of being back in my high school choir.  It’s one element of school life I really miss.</p><br/>
<p>The ALT Christmas party was held at the same Indian restaurant as last time, and my school’s end-of-year party was once again held at a hotel.  At school I did the same Christmas lessons as last year, plus a lesson for my special needs class.  All my lessons went as well as or better than last year.  The only disappointing things was that I was unable to deliver the second-year students’ Christmas cards to them personally, because I spent the last three days of the year out with the flu.</p><br/>
<p>I swear, every year I start out with all sorts of good intentions about getting the flu shot, and every year I completely fail to do it.  Usually I manage to avoid it anyway, but eventually my luck had to run out, especially given the line of work I’m in.</p><br/>
<p>It started over the weekend with a sore throat and the loss of my singing voice.  On Monday I went to school feeling lousy, and stumbled through three periods before finally begging for time off to go see the doctor.  He berated me for not getting vaccinated (I was <em>meaning</em> to do it, honest!  I’ve just been busy…) then gave me a flu test.  Have you ever been tested for the flu?  It’s not pleasant; you lean back and they stick a swab up your nose till it almost touches your brain!  The test came back positive, so he gave me some medication and told me I’d have to stay home for the rest of the week.  So that, effectively, was the start of my Christmas vacation.</p><br/>
<p>The medicine must have worked, because I felt much better the next day and my temperature had returned to normal.  I still had to stay home to avoid infecting anyone else, though.  That evening my tea lady came over with loads of food, evidently worried that I wouldn’t be able to get out to do any grocery shopping.  I’d actually stocked up the previous day, but her concern touched me, and made me feel even guiltier than I was already about spending the entire day under my kotatsu reading Television Without Pity recaps.</p><br/>
<p>I had a very relaxed Christmas holiday, though I did shape up and start doing slightly more useful things, like working on my blog.  I went to the Christmas Eve service at my church, and afterwards joined the youth in some door-to-door carolling.  Since Christmas Day was a Sunday, I went to the morning service and also stayed for the Christmas lunch and youth party, where we had chocolate fondue.</p><br/>
<p>I didn’t get up to much for the rest of the holiday, until New Year’s, which my tea lady invited me to spend at her place.  I went on New Year’s Eve and stayed for two days.  Her elder sister was visiting with her two sons and daughter – who are considerably cuter than her younger sister’s kids (the ones I’ve been tutoring).  She also had an uncle there, and with her and her parents it was quite a crowd.  She and her sister spoke only a little English, and everyone else spoke almost none.  In spite of that, I had a surprisingly warm and friendly time there.  It was nice to be spending the holiday with family, even if the family wasn’t mine.</p><br/>
<p>On New Year’s Eve we watched the New Year show on T.V. and ate traditional foods, like soba.  As a “thank you” for the food she had given me, I gifted her family with what <em>I</em> consider to be traditional western holiday snacks: cheese and crackers, mixed nuts, shortbread, and a big Toblerone bar.  On New Year’s Day we tried to go to Jogi-san, but there was so much traffic on the road that we forewent the traditional New Year’s temple visit in favour of an onsen.  We did go to a smaller temple the next day, and then spent the afternoon doing “hatsu-uri” (New Year’s shopping).</p><br/>
<p>In the news this month, to the dismay of millions and the surprise of no one, Canada announced its intention to withdraw from the Kyoto Protocol.  You know, when I was growing up (still not such a very long time ago) we were taught that Canada’s commitment to environmentalism was a source of national pride.  So I can’t say I’m exactly thrilled to have one fewer reason to be proud of my country.  In international news, everyone’s favourite North Korean dictator, Kim Jong-Il, is dead.  I’d say this was good news if I thought things were going to improve under his successor, but losing one Big Brother figure doesn’t mean anything if he’s simply replaced with another.</p><br/>
<p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br/>
<p><u>Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire</u> – Wow!  The Harry Potter films have finally grown up!  Obviously this is the point at which the books start getting more adult, but it’s more than that: this is the first film of the series that works as a movie in its own right, and not just as a dramatisation of the novel.  At the same time, it remains largely faithful to the source material.  Remarkably, given the length of the book, it manages to get all the major plot elements in without feeling rushed.  Several subplots had to be trimmed, of course, but the cuts are so seamless I barely noticed them.  The child actors have even grown into their roles and stopped grating on my nerves.  As for the adults, I was rather amused by the number of familiar faces among the new cast; I had to keep reminding myself that the movie came out <em>before</em> the <u>Twilight</u> series or the second season of <u>Doctor Who</u>.  Ralph Fiennes without hair or a nose is a bit of a novelty, but so far I’m willing to buy him as Lord Voldemort.  The only sour note for me was Dumbledore, who comes off as oddly grouchy and ineffectual – quite unlike his portrayal in the book.  (Four stars)</p><br/>
<p><u>Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix</u> – This one was more of a disappointment.  To be fair it <em>is</em> based on my favourite book of the series, and thus had more to live up to.  Much like <u>Prisoner of Azkaban</u>, it feels like so much exposition has been left out that the story barely makes sense.  I also didn’t feel it did justice to the nastiest moments in the story.  Umbridge wasn’t how I pictured her, nor did I like her as much as her literary incarnation, which was especially sad for me as she’s my favourite villain by far.  On the bright side I’m still liking the younger actors and I thought Luna was well-cast.  (Three stars)</p><br/>
<p><u>Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince</u> – Only the second film of the series that feels like it can stand on its own.  The story had to be compressed and isn’t as well-developed as that of the book, but it still makes sense, and I was impressed by how many quiet, character-focused scenes the film made room for.  Unfortunately the film has the same weaknesses as the book, in that it is merely set-up for the conclusion., and leaves many storylines unresolved.  (Three and a half stars)</p><br/>
<p>T.V. shows I’ve seen this month:</p><br/>
<p><u>Being Erica</u> (Season 2) – I didn’t like this season quite as much as the previous one, although I’m not sure whether that was due to changes in the show itself, or simply the premise feeling less fresh and original than it once did.  There seem to be a lot more episodes focusing on sex and romance this season, at the expense of other kinds of stories.  I did end up liking one of the major sub-arcs involving a new character, which didn’t go in the direction I was dreading it would.  I also liked the episodes focusing on Dr Tom.</p><br/>
<p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br/>
<p><u>The Girl in the Picture</u> by Denise Chong – Biography of Vietnamese napalm-victim Kim Phuc.  Now I remember why my Political Science teacher told us to read biographies: I think I learned more about the Vietnam war from this one book than from everything I’d read or seen about it previously.  Also, war is disgusting.</p><br/>
<p><u>Storm Front</u> by Jim Butcher – The first book in the “Dresden Files” series of pulp urban fantasy novels.  Not a great story, but interesting for the way it presents magic and the interaction between the fantastic and mundane worlds.</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-46611627000874987232012-04-15T21:58:00.001-07:002012-04-15T22:12:27.319-07:00And Nobody Knows (Tiddely Pom) - November 2011<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-69XTkSG_ipXVwMdRaPVZ6ufSlDCeeBCxHmk3u9BF0z4yhgoiUpH1F00fhfC3lJHKNqfzQB1On3lXSXX8nk0AB1zvFAbtUH50tSdk-pquwjbL3KU-aC6jXAUeTHaS9GnBtUlxYzpb27M/s1600/IMG_1675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-69XTkSG_ipXVwMdRaPVZ6ufSlDCeeBCxHmk3u9BF0z4yhgoiUpH1F00fhfC3lJHKNqfzQB1On3lXSXX8nk0AB1zvFAbtUH50tSdk-pquwjbL3KU-aC6jXAUeTHaS9GnBtUlxYzpb27M/s200/IMG_1675.JPG" /></a></div>
<br/>
<p>This month I was finally able to share the letters from Canada with my students.  The third-year teacher generously let me devote an entire class to them.  First I showed the students some Canadian maps demonstrating where the school was.  Then I told them that the kids at the school had heard about the earthquake and tsunami and had felt moved to write letters to Japan.  I read them the cover letter that the Canadian teacher had written, and my teacher translated it for them.  Then I put them in groups and gave each group two letters to share.  Each student got a question sheet and a glossary.  The former was to give their reading some direction; the latter was to help them with difficult words and phrases.</p><br/>
<p>For the most part, I was impressed with the response.  Not all of the students took an interest in the letters, but a surprising number did.  Even students who struggled with the regular class readings worked hard to understand them and find the answers.  It was a welcome change to see them actually engaging with a reading, rather than simply doing the mindless repetition and translation work they’ve been trained in.  I think they appreciated that they were holding real letters written by real people, and that made them much more meaningful.  Most gratifying of all, a few of the students even asked if they could write responses.  Of course I told them they could, and offered to give them any help they needed.</p><br/>
<p>In my second-year classes, the teacher has finally started implementing her idea about having the students do short English speeches.  So far the the students have complied reluctantly, and most of them have been doing only the bare minimum, but my hope is that they will warm up to the idea once they get used to it.</p><br/>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyrnXJN0UlhIEKnGIX7_90i2_Wnyx_UnMyATjhRZy3YlsAcOzCZ6AAWv4oGGpdKgg4-Pr9nl5h3aGFYTXFaiAsVKpCCy15GiBIcRuErVN3F6djV6QI164mfYcbBLIw20Xv2_tbrUN5rxvi/s1600/IMG_1647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyrnXJN0UlhIEKnGIX7_90i2_Wnyx_UnMyATjhRZy3YlsAcOzCZ6AAWv4oGGpdKgg4-Pr9nl5h3aGFYTXFaiAsVKpCCy15GiBIcRuErVN3F6djV6QI164mfYcbBLIw20Xv2_tbrUN5rxvi/s200/IMG_1647.JPG" /></a></div>
<br/>
<p>Fall is officially underway here.  The trees have changed colour and the temperature has dropped.  I seem to be dealing with the cold better this year than last, though I’m not sure whether that’s because I’m acclimatised or because this November is simply milder.  One thing that’s certain is that my toes are freezing!  Cold digits are a fact of life for me, and in past years I haven’t worried too much about frozen toes – after all, I can think of way worse things than <em>not</em> being able to feel part of your body.  But last year I actually got an infection that took weeks and a lot of medication to cure.  I want to avoid that happening again this year, so I’ve been wearing warm socks and also bundling up, drinking hot beverages, and making liberal use of my kotatsu.  Still, it’s hard to keep my extremities warm when I’m outdoors, and with no central heating indoors can be pretty cold, too.  I wish I lived in Korea; I hear they have heated floors!</p><br/>
<p>At the beginning of the month the English teacher at my church put on a “harvest party” to share some traditional American cooking with the locals.  I went and brought my tea lady along with me.  The traditional dishes we ate were chilli and cornbread.  I was especially fond of the latter; I haven’t had cornbread in ages!  The event was the closest I came to celebrating Thanksgiving this year.</p><br/>
<p>The fall colours haven’t been as brilliant in my area as I remember them being last year, but I have been making the most of them with a few different excursions.  My tea lady and school nurse invited me to go with them to Matsushima to see the evening light-up of the trees.  I went with my church to an onsen in Akiu, where we got to admire the leaves.  I also finally made my own trip to Yama-dera, which my buddy from Korea had visited the previous month.  Yama-dera (literally “mountain temple”) is built into a mountainside, and it’s a steep climb to get to the top.  From there we had a nice view of the surrounding countryside with its multi-coloured hills.</p><br/>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpj-2VdK4xFi9k88cpazptumNA-044gCZH0iFuwftg0CHCSyGgD9cZAPYMQ_eJv_9pFx67sP98cyh9jYgA30HjZn5IqP_NjpYkUiqxBWzWPEK3l3DKQZbb15_TTatYQX90JZkzbiwBvFV/s1600/IMG_1707.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpj-2VdK4xFi9k88cpazptumNA-044gCZH0iFuwftg0CHCSyGgD9cZAPYMQ_eJv_9pFx67sP98cyh9jYgA30HjZn5IqP_NjpYkUiqxBWzWPEK3l3DKQZbb15_TTatYQX90JZkzbiwBvFV/s200/IMG_1707.JPG" /></a></div>
<br/>
<p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br/>
<p><u>Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone</u> – The only adaptation of the Harry Potter books I’d previously seen.  It succeeds in covering most of the plot of the novel, but does so in such a flat and unimaginative way that it hardly seems worth the effort.  Part of the problem is that it there is so much exposition and it feels rushed and charmless.  The biggest fun to be had is from seeing which actors are playing which characters.  Maggie Smith seems well-cast as McGonagall; I’m less sanguine about Alan Rickman as Snape.  More important to the film are the child actors playing the main characters.  Sadly, none of them has the talent needed to carry a whole movie.  Of the pint-sized cast the one I found myself warming to the most was Draco Malfoy.  (Two and a half stars)</p><br/>
<p><u>Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets</u> – This film holds together better than the previous one, having less exposition to get through and more time to focus on the plot.  Unfortunately, I had all the same problems with it that I did with the book: the adults are useless, the kids are dumb, and I can’t stand Dobby.  Kenneth Branagh feels reasonably fitting, if a bit wasted, as Gilderoy Lockhart.  I’m still not big on the child actors.  (Three stars)</p><br/>
<p><u>Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban</u> (Three stars) – In contrast to the slavish fidelity of the first two films, this one is willing to get a bit creative with some plot elements.  The result is a somewhat more enjoyable movie; I especially liked the climactic sequences.  On the down side, a <em>lot</em> of exposition gets left out, to the extent that the story wouldn’t make sense to anyone who hasn’t read the book.  (Notably, one could get through the entire film without a clue that the Marauders ever got up to anything besides map-making.)  Lupin isn’t how I pictured him, but I think I like him, and Gary Oldman seems to work as Sirius, though he doesn’t get much screen time.  (Three stars)</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-53398922657560929882012-03-23T02:21:00.001-07:002014-01-13T10:08:15.017-08:00Yoku Naru yo* - October 2011<blockquote> <p>Peter: Hey, it gets better!<br>
Claire: What?<br>
Peter: Life after high school.  It gets a lot better.<br />
  - <u>Heroes</u>, “Homecoming”</p> </blockquote><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRB5aQiZtfLhYjh9nkpi-PEdu7HtV1o0rQIEB4nz5gv6duu98Me6_xHJ36w5nMbkkqVMOTxfDpUFJVihjatJUN6qOIxJSJbfjFNtovEkJt5AKD9-dNGXlLW230CxNo6lmncQJscxd-JnXe/s1600/IMG_1322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRB5aQiZtfLhYjh9nkpi-PEdu7HtV1o0rQIEB4nz5gv6duu98Me6_xHJ36w5nMbkkqVMOTxfDpUFJVihjatJUN6qOIxJSJbfjFNtovEkJt5AKD9-dNGXlLW230CxNo6lmncQJscxd-JnXe/s200/IMG_1322.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>This year I decided to be proactive about the city-wide sports competitions.  Since nobody told me what was going on or invited me to any of the events, I took matters into my own hands and actually asked which competitions I could attend.  The teachers seemed surprised at this, as though they couldn’t imagine why I would want to watch my students play sports when I could spend the whole weekend sitting at my desk twiddling my thumbs.  They asked me what events I was interested in, and I suggested volleyball, which turned out to be at a school just a few train stops east of me.</p><br />
<p>My students played well, and I enjoyed watching them a lot.  Unfortunately, they got beaten hard in the first match, and even though they rallied well late in the second match they still lost that one too and were unable to advance in the competition.  I stuck around and watched some of the other games, but they weren’t as much fun without someone to root for.  I asked about going to see some of the other sports, but there weren’t any others I could get to easily, so I spent the rest of the weekend bored at school.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsjjPcYvZcrsdvbohLVrDOatvJJBuDxqyMvoh2lpmnWKi-HlyfHpE1NkN6UT6rflsgceYb2rL6YxXohOpQOUhfnOeoMFHrCho6nOGofvkwsUfoJTW8qTt-AddM9CjkUxakZz7_PVdKu_L/s1600/IMG_1314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsjjPcYvZcrsdvbohLVrDOatvJJBuDxqyMvoh2lpmnWKi-HlyfHpE1NkN6UT6rflsgceYb2rL6YxXohOpQOUhfnOeoMFHrCho6nOGofvkwsUfoJTW8qTt-AddM9CjkUxakZz7_PVdKu_L/s200/IMG_1314.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>In the middle of the month a buddy of mine from university came to visit me.  She’s been teaching English in Korea for the last couple of years, and since we were comparatively close to each other, we thought it would be a good opportunity to hook up.  As with my sister in June, I decided the best course of action would be to meet in Tokyo, spend a few days there, and then go back to Sendai together.  So on Saturday morning I got an early bus for my third trip to the world’s largest city.</p><br />
<p>I arrived in the early afternoon and checked into the hostel, where my buddy had arrived a few hours earlier.  It was my first time seeing her since graduation five years earlier.  We’d been reasonably good about maintaining e-mail contact, but hadn’t met since the fall of 2006.  I was afraid reconnecting would be awkward, but we were actually able to pick up quite naturally, and had a very nice holiday together.  It helped that she came with her own travel guide and loads of suggestions for things we could do in the city.  That took some of the pressure off me as tour guide, though I was still the language expert.</p><br />
<p>We caught up over lunch at the okonomiyaki place, trading notes on life in Japan versus Korea.  The first sight we went to see was the Tokyo Tower.  Built as an orange and white version of the Eiffel Tower, it’s one of Tokyo’s most recognisable buildings.  It was my first time to visit it.  We contemplated going up to the top viewing level and also visiting the aquarium we’d heard was inside, but the queue to get to the top was too long, and the aquarium was closed.  Instead we took the elevator half-way up the tower for our night view of Tokyo.  Then we went to visit some of the other attractions inside the tower.  One was a wax museum with likenesses of various famous people and characters.  I recognised many of them, but I wouldn’t say they were very good.  The other was a gallery of optical illusions where we had good fun taking silly photographs.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRqYI4t3e84GB5Y0QXQrG8-F0IgaPuaaMuIcwtVC2bwjQpKlvAfOSTR4xh9WRXxmVxRMf8lYlv4pKT1RNQLb4Bfy_n8kjcOL2O61eDcGXZD8z6hQs-9_pDvCzoSjc6vEZHqkewokafa2D/s1600/IMG_1393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRqYI4t3e84GB5Y0QXQrG8-F0IgaPuaaMuIcwtVC2bwjQpKlvAfOSTR4xh9WRXxmVxRMf8lYlv4pKT1RNQLb4Bfy_n8kjcOL2O61eDcGXZD8z6hQs-9_pDvCzoSjc6vEZHqkewokafa2D/s200/IMG_1393.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>My buddy had heard that on Sundays one could go cycling around the Imperial Palace, so the next morning we went and did just that.  The bikes were being lent out for free and the streets were blocked off for cyclists, although the route didn’t extend all the way around the grounds.  As I’ve already mentioned, last month was my first bike-riding experience in years.  I was slightly steadier this time, though grateful to have a multi-lane road to practise in.  I’ll have to try to find more opportunities to do that.</p><br />
<p>After the bike ride we took a walk around the East Garden and then explored Ginza.  We tried to go to a baseball game at the Tokyo Dome, but when we got there the tickets were sold out, so we settled for an unspectacular ride on the Ferris wheel.  The trip wasn’t a total waste, though, because there were lots of young people in costumes hanging around the stadium, affording us a much better view of Japanese cosplay than we had at any other point during the trip.</p><br />
<p>In the evening we went to dinner at a “Ninja” restaurant in Akasaka.  It was gimmicky in a quintessentially Japanese fashion.  When we arrived a man in a ninja costume escorted us through a series of dark tunnels to our table.  The dining area was fashioned after an Edo-era street with each party dining in a separate room.  Everything was black: black houses, black tables, black chairs, black chopsticks – heck, my drink even came with a black skewer in it.  All the staff were “ninjas”, and were of course dressed in black, though the ominousness of the effect was rather offset by our waitress’s friendly attitude and Hello Kitty pen.  The bathrooms were subterranean caves.</p><br />
<p>The meal was expensive.  We tried to save money by ordering things à la carte and sharing, but we still ended up dropping about $60 each.  The place wasn’t over-priced, though; the food was genuinely good.  The portions may have been smaller than we could have wished, but we couldn’t complain of the quality.  There was also the added thrill of live entertainment.  Our waitress prepared a couple of the dishes right in front of our eyes, and at the end of the meal another “ninja” came to show us some “ninja magic” – basically your run-of-the-mill magic tricks, but still entertaining.  If you’ve got a good sense of fun, a willingness to suspend your disbelief, and up to $100 to blow, I heartily recommend the place.  It would make an especially good date restaurant.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiE5f0QMb8yGG11pGkY4spMVZe6uQw6FrbsCGbRVZIxDzUxhu8XuapAy2mMqKbpF_XBF-kmoj0SszJNClkbM4uKdKByrC26ybeZVBEIjy6TwsYI6JQ18MQMghJ-kyFu5P1eMCdY6tRwp6/s1600/IMG_1321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiE5f0QMb8yGG11pGkY4spMVZe6uQw6FrbsCGbRVZIxDzUxhu8XuapAy2mMqKbpF_XBF-kmoj0SszJNClkbM4uKdKByrC26ybeZVBEIjy6TwsYI6JQ18MQMghJ-kyFu5P1eMCdY6tRwp6/s200/IMG_1321.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>On Monday I took my buddy to see the Meiji Shrine.  We took our time walking around Yoyogi Park, including a visit to the Treasure House Annex, where the exhibit had changed from kimonos to scrolls.  I got us hopelessly lost walking around the Harajuku district, but we found our way back to our train station eventually, and went up to Shinjuku for some architectural exploration.  According to my buddy’s guidebook, Shinjuku was the inspiration for Ridley Scott’s designs for the movie <u>Bladerunner</u>.  I wasn’t the least bit surprised, although upon reflection I realised that most of the buildings we were looking at must have been built <em>after</em> that movie came out.  We went to the top of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building for the view, but Tokyo at dusk is not nearly as impressive as Tokyo by night.  We also went inside some of the buildings, discovering that they had interesting internal architecture, too.</p><br />
<p>In the evening we went to Ikebukuro to visit the Aquarium at the top of the Sunshine 60 building.  I like aquaria as a rule, but this was one of the least impressive ones I’ve seen.  I thought the bird habitats were especially disappointing; they looked really small and I couldn’t help thinking that the birds must feel awfully cramped in them.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjLt3TV37s2VSuPmQx6IJTdrF3cBxoyY9BOwz18PUoSkwDVK4Zfj6X-m0PsKfE7IK_EKycmGu97OB31_nnpwbByZVvZBkEH3vOjy86BP6mvHwqCq_EqOOg9hF5nDSQgPVD1qSOx1hycWe-/s1600/IMG_1325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjLt3TV37s2VSuPmQx6IJTdrF3cBxoyY9BOwz18PUoSkwDVK4Zfj6X-m0PsKfE7IK_EKycmGu97OB31_nnpwbByZVvZBkEH3vOjy86BP6mvHwqCq_EqOOg9hF5nDSQgPVD1qSOx1hycWe-/s200/IMG_1325.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>On Tuesday we went to the Tokyo National Museum.  It was a repeat for me, but some of the exhibits had changed, so the trip was worthwhile.  We also stopped in at the National Museum of Western Art, which contains a good collection of renaissance and later painting as well as several bronzes by Rodin.  In the evening we went to Akihabara.  First we checked out an “anime museum”, which was disappointing; then we went to a maid café.  If you haven’t heard of maid cafés, they’re places where all the waitresses are dressed up in cute maid costumes.  It seemed like one of those odd and uniquely Japanese things we should check out at least once.  The place was very cute, decorated with bright colours and stuffed animals.  Despite the premise, it didn’t feel sleazy so much as gimmicky and over-priced.  We did notice that there weren’t a lot of other female customers, though.  We had dessert and my buddy got her picture taken with a maid.  We spent the last part of the evening walking around Akihabara.</p><br />
<p>On our last morning we went back to Ueno Park to see some more of the park itself, and then to Shinjuku for our bus home.  We got into Sendai in the early evening, and stopped there for a gyu-tan dinner before heading back to my place.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0kM-gBL8FbOmjARbq54hF5LAGuff_Wg6Kh3eTPk7XWBaRHu-Y20P32V_NH3xZKVpg7rVyMV3EOaECbKYmHFjn77I705ji9vYWoH74PYyOsROdpMtTjn2yYHT9GmiLDrE_lno_dPGbhRt/s1600/IMG_1555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0kM-gBL8FbOmjARbq54hF5LAGuff_Wg6Kh3eTPk7XWBaRHu-Y20P32V_NH3xZKVpg7rVyMV3EOaECbKYmHFjn77I705ji9vYWoH74PYyOsROdpMtTjn2yYHT9GmiLDrE_lno_dPGbhRt/s200/IMG_1555.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>I had to work on Thursday and Friday.  They’re my elementary school days, and I didn’t think I could ask in good conscience for more time off from them than I’d already taken that year.  My buddy was thus left to amuse herself for two days, which she did pretty well.  On Thursday one of my Japanese neighbours took her to Yama-dera, a nearby temple.  In the evening we went over to her house for tempura and fun bilingual conversation.  On Friday she made her own way up to Matsushima.  Then we met up with a Japanese acquaintance from church who took us to a yakiniku restaurant and then a karaoke place.  We were an oddly disparate singing group.  Not only did the Japanese girl not know many of the songs we sang and sing a lot of Japanese songs that we in turn didn’t know, but even my Canadian buddy and I found ourselves drawn to different kinds of music.  It didn’t help that we have different vocal ranges, though we tried to make that work for us on some of the duets.  Still, it was a fitting conclusion to a Japanese adventure.</p><br />
<p>We only had one noticeable earthquake during our time in Sendai.  It was in the early morning hours when we were still in bed, and I just ignored it, but she was impressed.  Despite its proximity, Korea apparently doesn’t get many earthquakes.</p><br />
<p>Since I’ve now been there three times, it might be a good time for another unsolicited advertisement.  Every time I’ve visited Tokyo I’ve stayed at the <a href="http://www.sakura-hostel.co.jp/" target="_blank">Sakura Hostel</a> in Asakusa.  It’s clean, friendly, and convenient.  It’s located right next to Senso-ji Temple, and a few subway stops down from Ueno.  The prices are generally good, though they vary with the time of year.  My only complaints are that there isn’t wireless internet in the rooms (There are computers and wi-fi available in the lounge, but that tends to get really crowded in the evenings); and the breakfast isn’t very good (Unless you like making a meal of white toast.  Here’s a tip: bring your own peanut butter!)  I can’t compare it to other hostels in Tokyo, not having stayed at any, but I’ll happily recommend it.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZumK_TC_YEIJigmvJ5S-da2x5S9OMiDqraY9ag10W4EmrkUSsAkGYeZMKf6qN86HaJUWAlm73e3GnuRTbiR4vJZHIeSSIkJytcjckUCOP8OGJF_3Pbx06bV5_GbHhCwDRgAHHBjfTM37k/s1600/IMG_1000.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZumK_TC_YEIJigmvJ5S-da2x5S9OMiDqraY9ag10W4EmrkUSsAkGYeZMKf6qN86HaJUWAlm73e3GnuRTbiR4vJZHIeSSIkJytcjckUCOP8OGJF_3Pbx06bV5_GbHhCwDRgAHHBjfTM37k/s200/IMG_1000.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>After seeing my buddy off I met up with some of my co-workers for a day trip to Yamagata.  We were going with a tour group that took us first to a rusk cookie factory.  Rusk cookies seem to be really popular here, though to me they just taste like stale bread with a sprinkling of sugar – a silly thing to pay for.  Then we had lunch at a konnyaku place.  Konnyaku is a tasteless jelly-like substance made from devil’s tongue, and at the restaurant we had an entire meal made almost entirely out of it.  They’d made it into imitation sushi, imitation yakitori, imitation soba, etc.  It was certainly a novel experience, but given that konnyaku is an almost calorie-free food, it wasn’t very satisfying.  I’ve also had <em>much</em> better imitation meat in Hong Kong.  They’d promised us a temple and a foot spa in the afternoon, but they got cancelled because of the rain, so the rest of the day was a bust.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_Cx-zvBFOroSO84MyPTwXAD5UYRGCNv0UC6qnYjy2C5DwhHvd64ymtk33ErLbclL0Lqeo_OetxScvEIn7fgmFmMWROlznETNnL8EGPBuIN_eb1b0FZ11eq9F4n346Fs5OPCh-ewo-Oni/s1600/IMG_1594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_Cx-zvBFOroSO84MyPTwXAD5UYRGCNv0UC6qnYjy2C5DwhHvd64ymtk33ErLbclL0Lqeo_OetxScvEIn7fgmFmMWROlznETNnL8EGPBuIN_eb1b0FZ11eq9F4n346Fs5OPCh-ewo-Oni/s200/IMG_1594.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>In the news this month, Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi is dead.  It’s unfortunate that he wasn’t captured alive and can’t be put on trial, but at least his dictatorial rule is now definitively over.  The country also has a new flag, replacing the old uniformly green number.  Steve Jobs, founder of Apple, is also dead.  The Commonwealth has agreed to change the rules governing who can accede to the throne of England: succession will now be decided solely by birth order, regardless of gender.  People around the United States and Canada are participating in something called the “Occupy” movement.  It started in New York, with “Occupy Wall Street”, and spread from there.  Evidently the people involved are fed up with the current financial system, but beyond that I’m not sure what their purpose is.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYnQk2T52mCQC7gA1STSNVVNH9qAqeyoLQcHql5seg6_wBePu86cr6EdR-yd_IFKu7DR8qW9afArtTnNmi3mqnomH7ggNBLkMAck4mFi6tkyS8nay_lDs26aAeOn5b7J8Sr3xWM3nLJ2TA/s1600/IMG_1592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYnQk2T52mCQC7gA1STSNVVNH9qAqeyoLQcHql5seg6_wBePu86cr6EdR-yd_IFKu7DR8qW9afArtTnNmi3mqnomH7ggNBLkMAck4mFi6tkyS8nay_lDs26aAeOn5b7J8Sr3xWM3nLJ2TA/s200/IMG_1592.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>There have also been several stories recently (at least on the news I listen to) about bullying and teen suicide, especially of gay kids.  For some reason these stories have gotten under my skin, probably because I got teased a lot growing up.  One thing that’s come up a lot in the stories is the <a href="http://www.itgetsbetter.org/" target="_blank">“It Gets Better” Project</a>, a video project intended to encourage gay youth and prevent gay teen suicide.  Its message: life may suck now, and people may bully you, but hang in there; once you leave school life is going to get better and people are going to get nicer to you.  I first heard about the project a year ago, when I saw <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7IcVyvg2Qlo" target="_blank">Dan Savage</a>’s original “It Gets Better” video.  The video touched me because, as I knew from first-hand experience, its message was true.</p><br />
<p>My life in elementary school <em>sucked</em>.  I <a href="http://blueiceteaslogbook.blogspot.com/2010/11/story-so-far.html" target="_blank">have gone so far</a> as to describe it as hell.  On the plus side, I didn’t get beaten up or suffer much in the way of physical abuse.  On the down side <em>nobody</em> was nice to me, I had <em>no</em> friends, and I got teased every day.  It was an incredibly lonely way to spend seven years.</p><br />
<p>I never knew why I got picked on.  I went to four elementary schools, and with each change the problem seemed to get worse.  Clearly I inspired the same kind of antipathy everywhere, though whether it was because I was dislikeable or simply made a convenient target I couldn’t say.  In retrospect, much of it may have been my fault; I probably said and did a lot of things that put people off, and I didn’t know how to stand up for myself.  The one thing I’m certain of is that it had little to do with discrimination.  I don’t belong to any minority demographics, and I didn’t see a lot of kids expressing prejudiced attitudes in any case.  I got picked on for being me, not for belonging to a group.</p><br />
<p>I got called “fag” or “faggot” a lot when I was twelve, but I didn’t even know what the word meant, and I suspect the kids who used it probably didn’t either.  I mean, I also got called “paedophile” a lot.  When I was twelve.  At other times it was “Chinese”, “lesbian”, “retard”, or my personal un-favourite, “loser”.  The words weren’t hurtful because I resented the meaning.  They were hurtful because they were <em>meant</em> to be hurtful.  Heck, one of the most enduring ones was to simply call me by my initials.  There’s nothing wrong with initialising someone’s name, but to this day I dread to hear it done to my own.  Kids have a way of throwing around whatever words they can to hurt each other, and the actual meaning doesn’t matter half so much as the malicious intention behind them.</p><br />
<p>For me, things got better when I entered high school.  Maybe my high school was just exceptionally good (I’ve been told repeatedly that it was), but most of the students there seemed to have matured out of the bullying phase.  There was <em>one</em> student in grade nine who made a profession out of being obnoxious to people, and <em>nobody</em> liked him.  While still lonely, I was at least spared the constant barrage of name-calling I’d grown used to.  I went through some rough periods and endured a lot of heartache, but it was still an improvement, and since graduating my life has been on a steady up-swing.</p><br />
<p>Looking back on my childhood, I remember believing that I was doomed to misery for life.  I would love to be able to go back and tell that child the truth: that from a low point around grade five or six, my life gradually got better.  That’s why the “It Gets Better” Project speaks to me.  In fact, if I have one issue with the project, it’s that its focus is too narrow.  It’s not that I don’t see the need to target gay teenagers, but life gets better whether you’re bullied for being gay or for other reasons.</p><br />
<p>It’s hard for me to know, not being LGB or T myself, but just as the world has become a friendlier place the older I get, so I think it’s also become a more gay-tolerant place.  I’m pretty sure my high school was a comparatively queer-friendly environment.  I didn’t see a lot of gay-bashing going on, and I knew lots of people who were openly gay or bisexual.  I can only recall one homophobic incident in my entire time there, and I think it was the exception that proved the rule.  A male acquaintance of mine had a picture up in his locker of two male anime characters in a suggestive pose.  Another student saw the picture and started attacking it as sick and disgusting.  Now, I wasn’t in total disagreement with him.  I didn’t like the picture and I didn’t think it was appropriate for a school.  But the way he pointed it out wasn’t diplomatic; it felt like a personal attack.  And then he got nasty.</p><br />
<p>“You’re gay!” he said.</p><br />
<p>And I thought (but did not say): “Yeah, and your point would be…?”</p><br />
<p>It was the only time I can recall from my high school days hearing the word used as a personal insult.  And although it was an unfortunate incident, its uniqueness underscores the fact that the school was, by and large, a fairly open and un-homophobic place.  Most of the students I knew didn’t throw around words like that, and I bet everyone who heard it was thinking the same thing: <em>So what if he is gay.  What’s it to you?</em></p><br />
<p>Since graduating high school I’ve seen almost none of that kind of thing.  Adults, whatever their personal beliefs may be, tend to know better than to insult people to their faces.  In the real world homophobia is considered highly un-cool, and nobody likes a bully.  You still meet jerks sometimes, but you can usually walk away from them, and the older you get the less you care what other people do.  That’s the message the “It Gets Better” videos are trying to get across.</p><br />
<p>A lot of celebrities have been jumping onto the bandwagon.  Lady Gaga’s been especially vocal about the issue.  <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1OvtBa2FK8" target="_blank">Rick Mercer</a> made a video calling on gay public figures to out themselves so that gay kids could have more role models to look up to.  In the same spirit, I read that actor Zachary Quinto recently decided to come out.  That surprised me, not because I wouldn’t have thought Zachary Quinto was gay, but because I couldn’t imagine why an actor of his calibre (this is the guy who’s best known for playing a serial killer with a brain fetish and a half-alien space-traveller) would have felt the need to be in the closet in the first place.  Apparently it wasn’t so much that he was in the closet before as that he didn’t think it was anyone’s business.  Which I completely sympathise with.  We could all stand to know less about our favourite celebrities’ dating-lives.  I guess in a perfect world no one would care about a celebrity’s sexuality except as a point of curiosity, and people would feel free to talk about their orientation or not as they chose.  But we’re not quite there yet.  Incidentally, I also learned that Rick Mercer is gay.  Don’t know if I didn’t know that because it wasn’t common knowledge, or because I’m just ignorant.</p><br />
<p>There are plenty of other celebrity videos out there, made by gay and straight people alike.  Heck, even the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzcAR6yQhF8" target="_blank">president of the United States</a> made one.  (Nice work, Mr Obama!)  I’ve seen a few, but I think the more interesting ones are probably the ones made by ordinary people, chronicling personal stories of hardship.</p><br />
<p>That isn’t to say that I don’t have some reservations about the project and some of the other ideas floating around.  Sharing experiences of bullying and personal growth may be cathartic for the adults who make the videos and others who watch them, but I do wonder how effective they are in practice.  After all, when I was a child I heard the same message.  As early as grade one I remember my teacher telling me about how she was teased as a child.  I found it incredible that any well-adjusted and normal-looking adult could ever have suffered the kind of cruelty I did at the hands of my classmates.  For the rest of my elementary school life I heard similar messages: lots of kids get bullied; it’s a normal part of school life; many of the adults who seem so happy today were bullied as children; this too shall pass.  I always met these reassurances with the same juvenile scepticism.  Other kids might be the victims of teasing, but even the kids who got teased teased me!  The adults who talked about being bullied in the past couldn’t possibly have had it as bad as I did.  And what kind of reassurance is it, when you’re ten, to be told that a decade from now your life will be happy and good?  Do you know how <em>long</em> a decade is from the perspective of a ten year old?!</p><br />
<p>I also can’t help wondering if giving so much media attention to the issue of teen suicide might actually be backfiring and having the opposite effect from the one intended.  What if covering these suicides and giving names and faces to the kids involved actually makes other children more likely to do the same thing?  What if kids who think they have no reason to live decide to kill themselves in the hope of becoming martyrs?  I’ve heard that theory proposed for the rash of school shootings that happened back in the nineties, and it seems like the same could be true of suicide.  After all, the impression I get is that there’s been an upsurge in the teen suicide rate lately, and that <em>can’t</em> be because of increased levels of bullying or homophobia.  Bullying has been a problem from time immemorial, and homophobia should, if anything be on the decline.  So while I think it’s important to acknowledge the problem and reach out to teenagers, I’d be careful not to crucify them.  We don’t need any more dead kids.</p><br />
<p>Another thing I’m concerned about is the response to bullying.  In their desire to put an end to it, I’ve heard adults advocate tougher anti-bullying laws and harsher punishments for bullies.  Bullying should definitely be taken seriously, and acts of violence disciplined.  But focusing too much on punishment might well end up doing more harm than good.  As we know from real life, stiffer penalties aren’t terribly effective at reducing crime, and sending people to prison often just makes them into more hardened criminals.  Moreover, kids do stupid things.  How many times have you looked back on your childhood and thought, <em>Did really do that?</em>, <em>Was I really that dumb?</em>, or, <em>I sure was an obnoxious brat, wasn’t I?</em>  I’ve no doubt that a lot of bullies go through the same thing.  Sure, some of them probably turn into obnoxious adults, but most of them grow up to become, well, grown ups.</p><br />
<p>A while back I was on Facebook and I saw some people I used to know having a discussion about this topic.  Interestingly, one of the people involved was my former elementary school classmate.  It was strange but heartening to see one of the kids who used to torment me as a child acknowledging the problem of bullying.  At one point he mentioned using homophobic insults as a child, and I thought, <em>Yeah, I was one of the people you used them against!</em>  I had a mini-catharsis realising that both of us had come a long way from those miserable elementary school days, that we’re both now very different people from our childhood selves, and that any animosity we may have once felt for each other is now buried in the past.</p><br />
<p>As a child I could be unkind too.  I’ve said hurtful things to others that I regret and wish I could take back.  I’ll never have the chance to apologise for most of them, but I hope anyone I hurt has forgiven me.  In the same way I forgive everyone who was mean to me in my childhood.  I know they were only children too, doing stupid things as children do.  I don’t hate them or want to see them punished.  The worst I hope is that they now regret their childish behaviour, and have grown into thoughtful and compassionate adults who do their best to instil their children with a degree of empathy.</p><br />
<p>Bullying is a problem as much for its perpetrators as its victims.  It’s a sickness, and needs treatment more than punishment.  Kids don’t just bully each other because they’re bad.  They do it because they feel insecure, because they’ve been bullied themselves, have abusive parents, want to impress their friends, or have low self-esteem.  Punishing their behaviour alone isn’t going to solve those problems.  And criminalising it may simply turn relatively normal kids into criminals.  It isn’t enough to treat bullying symptomatically; the root causes have to be addressed.  And it isn’t enough to say that bullying is bad; kids have to learn positive alternatives.</p><br />
<p>One concrete suggestion has been legislation to protect gay student rights and target homophobia specifically.  Protecting gay students and eliminating their systematic bullying is a worthy goal.  However, as an anti-bullying strategy I don’t think it’s terribly well-directed.  It may take some of the pressure off gay students, but it does nothing to address the problem of bullying per se.  The reasoning behind it seems to go like this: Some kids bully others with homophobic insults; if we eliminate homophobia, we can eliminate bullying.  Which is nonsense.  Homophobia isn’t the reason for bullying, it’s an excuse; and bullies don’t bully gay kids because they are homophobic, they bully them because they are bullies!</p><br />
<p>You don’t have to be gay to get bullied.  You don’t have to be gay to get bullied for <em>being</em> gay.  Nor is being gay the only reason gay kids get bullied, nor a guarantee that someone won’t himself bully others.  All different kinds of kids are bullies, and all different kinds are victims: gay kids, straight kids, black kids, white kids, religious, non-religious, pretty, ugly, fat, skinny, able-bodied, disabled, mentally average, mentally handicapped.  Some kids just like to pick on people, and they’ll target anyone they and their friends can agree is “other”.</p><br />
<p>I was pondering all this over lunch one day when my tea lady snapped me out of my stupor to ask me what I was thinking about.  “Ee… muzukashii desu…”, “Uh… it’s difficult…”, I tried to explain.  Like, seriously, what’s the Japanese for “gay teen suicide”?  Fortunately Wikipedia <em>does</em> have a Japanese entry on the “It Gets Better” Project, and between that and Google Translate I was able to explain the situation to her.  It was nice to be able to talk to someone about it.</p><br />
<p>I don’t have much optimism that bullying can ever be eliminated.  The targets may shift, the means vary, but I think it will always be a part of school life.  There’ll always be the kid who gets picked on, teased, beaten up, ostracised.  Who has his shoes stolen or his glasses broken or his lip split.  Who gets called a “fag”, “retard”, “loser”, or worse.</p><br />
<p>But it gets better.  It really does.</p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgpI3jYq523S6enyK4oPGyBV0SZfS6IKEjirqv0TGvxsz6cfmAZZ6UdvhXlaqfKuD8GjsjDLzjOxSFyV8yxk5kmgfgq5iO_K6EJgxDXkhMI0wJT0zfGrG8ABpJ7TDIjAOsPd6CfzcbuHJz/s1600/IMG_1415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgpI3jYq523S6enyK4oPGyBV0SZfS6IKEjirqv0TGvxsz6cfmAZZ6UdvhXlaqfKuD8GjsjDLzjOxSFyV8yxk5kmgfgq5iO_K6EJgxDXkhMI0wJT0zfGrG8ABpJ7TDIjAOsPd6CfzcbuHJz/s200/IMG_1415.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br />
<p><u>Mamma Mia!</u> – Ostensibly about a girl’s search for her “real” father, this silly musical comedy is really just an excuse to string a bunch of Abba songs together.  The results are mixed, but the movie’s almost worth it for the fun of seeing respectable actors like Meryl Streep, Pierce Brosnan, and Colin Firth dancing around and behaving like teenagers.  (Three stars)</p><br />
<p>T.V. shows I’ve seen this month:</p><br />
<p><u>Heroes</u> (Season 1) – I freely admit that this is a deeply goofy show.  It has insufferable narration (“You do not choose your destiny; it chooses you.”), idiot characters (Um, Peter, you think you might want to pick a shorter building to test your “I’m telling you, I think I can fly!” hypothesis?), bizarre plot-twists (<em>How</em> many times a day does Claire die?), and absurd coincidences (What are the chances that of all the patrons at the Fly By Night Diner, the only one who notices the man landing in the parking lot is the one who can “bendo space ando time”?)  The climax to the last episode makes no sense to me.  And did I mention that the villain is a cute, affable, nerdy, whingeing, creepy, megalomaniacal, vicious, brain-eating sociopath?</p><br />
<p>I wanted to say that as a sort of disclaimer before I make the following rather embarrassing confession: I <em>love</em> <u>Heroes</u>!  As I’ve said before, about 50% of its charm comes from sheer campiness.  How can you <em>not</em> love a show with characters whose nicknames include “Man with Horned-Rimmed Glasses”, “Mystery Sock”, “Flying Man”, and “Super Hiro”; dialogue like “Save the cheerleader, save the world”, “Future-me scares me”, “This is usually the part when people start screaming”, or “Yatta!!!”; <u>Star Trek</u> references every other  episode; or a season finale entitled “How to Stop an Exploding Man”???</p><br />
<p>But there is another 50% that’s actually genuinely good.  This isn’t a show that was slapped together one episode at a time; the season has a well-constructed, intriguing, and unified story-line.  Or rather, several, for it weaves its story together from many disparate threads.  Watching these threads gradually come together is a big part of the fun.  The characters come from a variety of backgrounds and lifestyles, and struggle in interesting ways to integrate their new-found powers.  Many of them are actually relatively well-developed and surprisingly well-acted (considering that half the cast look like they were pulled from hair-care ads).  Most of them are sympathetic, making the conflicts between them that much more interesting.  And there are always fresh surprises to keep things engaging.</p><br />
<p>There’s a part of me that’s seriously tempted to go and rent Season 2 now.  Having fallen in love with the series, I want to see where it goes next.  But the overwhelming consensus seems to be that the subsequent seasons all suck.  And I really don’t need to add to my list of once brilliant T.V. shows I’ve watched descend into garbage.  I’ve done it too many times already; I don’t need the pain.  So although I’d love to learn more about the characters and the shadowy forces controlling their lives, I think I’m better off leaving the show where it is, remembering the good parts and sparing myself the bad parts.</p><br />
<p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br />
<p><u>Mother Tongue</u> by Bill Bryson – That’s it!  When I grow up, I want to be Bill Bryson.  Not only does the guy get paid for going on backpacking trips, but he also writes books about fascinating topics like, in this case, the English language.  The result is one of those painfully interesting books that make me long to go back to school and study its subject in real depth.  Given that I’m on the road to making English my career anyway, I may just end up doing that!</p><br />
<p><u>Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows</u> by J. K. Rowling – The final book in the Harry Potter saga.  Both the story and characters have clearly matured.  I like a lot of the themes that get brought in, such as death, loss, and regret, and I don’t think I’ve ever come closer to liking Harry as a character.  On the down side, the book has some boring bits and isn’t as unified as one could wish.  Much of the story builds on the previous books, but there are some new elements that feel contrived.  The ending is surprisingly sudden.  For a series with a huge cast of characters and numerous sub-plots, and in contrast to all of the previous books, it contains very little dénouement.  It’s almost as though Rowling was trying to avoid the long drawn out conclusion of a book like <em>The Lord of the Rings</em>, and ended up swinging too far in the other direction.  I’m not seriously bothered by all the lose ends, but that may change once I’ve had a chance to think about the series more.  The climactic sequence is reasonably exciting, though I wish to Elbereth that Rowling had killed one or two fewer characters in the process.  The main storylines are resolved in more-or-less satisfying ways, and she even vindicates the vain hope I was holding out at the end of the previous book.  Over all it makes for a decent conclusion, and I’ve decided that I do indeed like the Harry Potter series.</p><br />
<p>* “Yoku Naru yo”: Japanese for “It gets better.”</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-2729906943046254562012-03-12T01:50:00.001-07:002012-03-12T02:00:52.463-07:00Karaoke, Bike-Riding, and Other Discoveries - September 2011<p>By a strange coincidence, September 11, 2011 was the anniversary of the two most personally significant news events of my life.  Firstly, it was the ten-year anniversary of the World Trade Center attacks in New York City.  While the attacks and their aftermath didn’t affect my life directly, their global ramifications were so sweeping that I can’t help but think of them as among the most important events I’ve lived through.  From the first time I heard of them (one week into grade thirteen, walking into my law classroom and seeing an image of smoking towers on the television screen), I knew that I was witnessing a major story that would change the world as we knew it.  Ten years later the world is still dealing with the fallout from that day.</p><br />
<p>The other event had much less global impact but affected me much more directly.  September 11 was also the six-month anniversary of what has become known as the Great East Japan Earthquake.  I’ve already <a href="http://blueiceteaslogbook.blogspot.com/2011/09/big-one-march-2011.html" target="_blank">written</a> at great length about that experience.  Six months on you can barely see any damage from the earthquake itself, but the clean-up from the tsunami feels like a never-ending task.  The story has faded from the international news and the aftershocks have more or less ceased (the current level of seismic activity is pretty much what it was this time last year), but there is still a massive amount of rebuilding to be done and the newspapers continue to print daily updates on the numbers of dead and missing.</p><br />
<p>Oddly I didn’t do anything to commemorate either of those events.  I suspect that had I been in North America the World Trade Center attacks would have been spotlighted, but they received much less attention here in Japan.  Nor was I aware of any special events to commemorate the earthquake.  So the date passed mostly unhallowed by me, though not unnoticed.</p><br />
<p>Classes resumed at the end of August.  I’ve made a new English board for the teacher profiles, and I’ve been adding them at a rate of one per day.  That should get me through the whole staff in just over a month.  Back in the classroom, I’ve noticed that my first-year teacher hasn’t been bringing me to class very often.  To some extent I don’t mind very much, since I much prefer teaching the higher grades, but I do worry that the students are missing out.  On the plus side, from what I’ve seen so far, the first-year teacher is pretty good.  He has a good relationship with his students, and they in turn seem more relaxed and comfortable using English than the other classes I work with.  Still, at the least I’m losing some important bonding time with them.</p><br />
<p>School Festival was at the beginning of the month.  My contribution to it largely consisted of spending a lot of time in the accountant’s office cutting half-inch pieces of origami paper.  The students were all making mosaics, and, hey, those little coloured squares have to come from <em>somewhere</em>.  But the event also gave me my first opportunity to do something with the letters I’d received from the JET Programme.  I made a big bulletin-board display about them.  It included all the letters, an explanation in Japanese and English, definitions of difficult words, a map showing the town the letters came from, and even some <a href="http://www.wordle.net/" target="_blank">Wordle</a> word art.  I doubt many of the students got to look at it, but I hope that the parents who came saw it and got something out of it.</p><br />
<p>After the festival we had an after-party, and after that a group of us went out to karaoke together.  It was only my second time at karaoke since coming to Japan, and my first time going with my co-workers.  Clearly I was at a bit of a disadvantage because I couldn’t sing along with any of the Japanese songs, but on the plus side I was invited to join in every time a teacher chose an English song to sing.  So I lent my questionable singing talent and unquestionable English expertise to such songs as “This Love”, “Without You”, and “Bring It All Back”.  When it was my turn to pick I chose “Shine” by Collective Soul, which I think I did a decent job on.  I also invited one of the male teachers to a duet of “All I Wanna Do” by Sheryl Crow, which ended up largely turning into a solo for me.  In retrospect I chose a pretty difficult song, but we still had fun with it.  Just before I left, the art teacher led us all in singing the <em>Totoro</em> theme, the one Japanese song I could at least join in on the chorus of.  It was a really good time; I wish we did that sort of thing more often.  At $30 each I could see it being an expensive hobby, though.</p><br />
<p>The biggest priority for me at the start of the new term was to get my kids ready for the speech competition.  I didn’t actually see as much of them as I’d hoped to over the summer holiday, but when they came back to school it was clear they’d put a lot of work into their speeches.  One of them wrote her speech; the other did a recitation of a short story.  I wasn’t a fan of the story she chose, but her delivery was excellent, so I think it was a good choice for her.  As last year, I much preferred listening to the students’ own speeches than to the recitations.  I was surprised (though in retrospect I don’t know why) by how many students talked about the earthquake this year.  Even speeches ostensibly about other things worked their way around to it eventually, as though the students felt obliged to mention it.  I can see that it was an important event in the lives of the students, but after about a dozen speeches the theme got old, and every time I heard the words, “On March 11, Japan suffered a terrible earthquake,” I found myself thinking: <em>Yeah, I know.  We all know.  We were there.</em>  I was very glad that my student was one of the very few who didn’t mention it at all.  Unfortunately, she didn’t win anything.  The student who did the recitation got third prize, not enough to advance to the prefectural level.  So that’s it for speech competitions this year.</p><br />
<p>There’s been a surprising development with my putative swing dancing club: one day, the mother of one of my students called the school and asked if she might join.  Since I barely had any students anyway I figured there was no harm in letting her come for what turned out to be a private lesson.  She’s now become my one regular club member, and has even brought friends along.  At first I was reluctant to hold the class only for adults; after all, the whole idea of the club was to do something fun with the <em>students</em>, not their parents.  But the thing is, I enjoy it; it’s the only opportunity I ever have to dance, and I’ve realised I’m not too bad at the teaching, either.  So I suppose I’ll keep it going for as long as I can with whoever wants to come.</p><br />
<p>The ALT fellowship group hasn’t met again, but I did learn from some of the members about a church they go to down town, and I decided one Sunday to check it out.  Unlike my church, the congregation is at least half made up of English-speaking foreigners, including ALTs and other English teachers from a private school.  I really enjoyed going to church in an anglophone-friendly environment, and I’d like to go back there, but at the same time I like the church that I have.  I’ll probably keep going to my regular church, but I may also visit the new one from time to time.</p><br />
<p>Another thing that came out of the fellowship group was a suggestion by one of the ALTs that we go up to Ishinomaki for the weekend to do some volunteer work.  As it turned out, we weren’t able to get organised for a weekend trip, so instead a couple of us joined a local group and spent a day volunteering in one of Sendai’s coastal neighbourhoods.  We met at a church downtown and rode bicycles out to the work location.  It was my first time riding a bicycle in <em>years</em>.  I know they say you never forget how, but there’s a big gap between being able to stay upright on a bike and actually being able to ride it well.  On the plus side, I really liked the bikes we had.  They were quite comfortable and easy to ride, and came with a motor attached.  I’d never ridden a bike with a motor before.  I set mine to “echo” mode, which means that the motor only kicks in when the rider is actually pedalling.</p><br />
<p>I was pretty unsteady at first, weaving back and forth in my attempts to remain stable.  One of my pet peeves since getting here has been the fact that cyclists ride on the sidewalk rather than the street – especially annoying if you live in a neighbourhood like mine where the “sidewalk” is a two-foot wide covered gutter – but I was grateful for it now, because I would have gotten myself killed riding in traffic.  I steadied out a bit after a while, and as the muscle memory started to return I discovered that I actually enjoyed it.  I did reasonably well for speed; I kept the motor off most of the time, and only turned it on for help going uphill.  I still had wobbly moments, though, and found starting and stopping difficult.  Shortly before we reached our destination – and just as I started to think I was getting the hang of it – some of the other volunteers pulled up in a van and said they’d drive me the rest of the way.  And so my cycling experiment was brought to a sudden end.</p><br />
<p>As I settle into my second year in Japan, I’ve made a surprising and gratifying discovery: I speak Japanese!  Not well, admittedly.  Or fluently.  Or intelligently.  Actually, I probably have the grammatical level of a two-year-old, and a vocabulary somewhat worse than that.  But I have reached the point where I can at least carry on a low-level conversation with a Japanese person.  And since that was one of my goals when I arrived here, I feel pretty good about that.  I’m still hopeless at a lot of things, but now, where I used to just shake my head and smile helplessly, I ask people to repeat things and reach for my dictionary, and sometimes I can even figure out what they’re saying!</p><br />
<p>The point has been brought home to me by my recent interactions with other teachers.  When doing the staff interviews I noticed that it was much easier this time around.  The Japanese phrases I’d had to memorise last year now came much more naturally to me, and I understood the responses better.  I also noticed improvement at the School Festival after-party.  Whereas last year I was seated between two of the English-speaking teachers and spent most of my time talking to them, this year I was happy to sit at a table with mostly Japanese speakers and muddle through conversation as best I could.  I was quite successful, too, managing lengthy conversations with the teachers to my left and right, neither of whom spoke more than a few words of English.  I may not have been the most scintillating conversationalist there (Am I ever?) but I could hold my own, and I felt good about that.</p><br />
<p>This achievement is especially important to me because this month my Japanese language classes came to an end.  There aren’t any higher-level courses offered in the evenings, so this will probably be the end of my formal Japanese study.  I’m going to look into getting a tutor, though.  While I get plenty of conversation practice at school and also outside of school (Special thanks goes to my tea lady for that!), I still have almost no reading ability.  I’d like to work on improving that for a while.</p><br />
<p>In the news this month, the U.S. has repealed its “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, allowing homosexuals to serve openly in the military.  Prior to “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”, gays were forbidden from serving in the military, period.  The policy liberalised the army somewhat, allowing gays to serve but only if they weren’t open about their sexuality.  Repealing it means that now gays and bisexuals can serve in the military <em>and</em> do so openly.  That sounds like progress to me.</p><br />
<p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br />
<p><u>The Martian Chronicles</u> by Ray Bradbury – Loosely connected series of short stories chronicling the settlement of Mars.  More intelligent than some sci-fi stories I’ve read.  The story called “Usher II” is especially good fun, if not great science fiction.</p><br />
<p><u>Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix</u> by J. K. Rowling – In the words of Xander Harris, “Stop this crazy whirligig of fun; I’m dizzy!”  Instalment five in the Harry Potter series is a downer from start to finish – which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  I like the fact that Rowling has started subverting some of her more obnoxious tropes.  And this book has the coolest villain so far; in fact, I think Dolores Umbridge is now my favourite character of the series!  Actually, I liked pretty much all of this book, except for the romantic sub-plot.  That made my skin crawl.  I’m still not sure how I feel about the ending.  I’d say it was good if I thought Harry was going to grow from the experience, but so far the only result of bad things happening to Harry seems to be to turn him into more of a jerk.  Which brings me to a chronic problem I seem to be having with this series: I don’t much like Harry Potter.  I don’t mean I <em>dis</em>like him, just that I don’t find him especially engaging.  I can only hope that he matures a bit before the end of the series.  And also that things lighten up at some point!</p><br />
<p><u>Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince</u> by J. K. Rowling – Thankfully this book does indeed hearken back a bit to the lighter tone of the earlier instalments – at least until the last few chapters.  Unfortunately, though the story is interesting, it isn’t resolved as satisfyingly as those of the other books.  Instead, it mostly serves as setup for the final novel.  As for the ending, I’m in denial about that.  Rowling’s done one of the things I was most hoping she wouldn’t do.  I’m still holding out hope that it will come out alright in the last book, but it’s hard to see how.</p><br />Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-46139116673216060192012-02-24T19:07:00.006-08:002012-03-12T01:58:33.435-07:00…And the Living’s Easy - August 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhse2azD176zcBazWju7_jLe1CEfk9RyjlebpAAhrzXa6tzFJGds_elJsRd_rzu1n9sAFvzdjdgdLVmsUcmKN4JPj_fi1xrhHm9DvesXk9CbquB-RoHazYEydguFXgAFEsk58XmF4lKSO-r/s1600/blue+flower.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhse2azD176zcBazWju7_jLe1CEfk9RyjlebpAAhrzXa6tzFJGds_elJsRd_rzu1n9sAFvzdjdgdLVmsUcmKN4JPj_fi1xrhHm9DvesXk9CbquB-RoHazYEydguFXgAFEsk58XmF4lKSO-r/s200/blue+flower.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712908771236625522" /></a><br /><p>My second year in Japan begins, as did my first, with a month of summer holiday, except that this time there is no orientation, just a holiday.  The heat is oppressive and there’s a steady drone from the cicadas.  Every so often a lone insect will start up a solo nearby.  Though you might not think it, a hundred cicadas going at once are fairly innocuous, but a single one just outside your window will kick up the most ungodly racket – especially if it’s doing it at five in the morning.  The spiders are also busy.  I see way more spiders here in Japan than I do back home.  Not indoors, fortunately, but outside they’re ubiquitous.  They’re much bigger than what I’m used to, and they’re constantly spinning their webs: in trees, against lamp posts, across sidewalks, and over my front door.  I’m always cautious when entering or exiting my flat, in case some spider decides to drop on my head.</p><br /><p>I’m really glad I decided to stay.  Now that I’m settled and not suffering culture shock any more, I feel I’m much better able to appreciate summer in Japan.  The trees are green; the rice paddies are yellow; my students wave at me when they see me on the street.  It’s things like that that could make you think life is worth living, and other such delusional notions.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1kYQifd1dvK62hoEYonXjMuFtHGrGu7XoTUr4q6REPtmSrai0KHWL_kftNouxd0Y9pUPM9hBbi4dSYdYEvMlyi3qEmEb9kUCfp5VPappQOrk-ewnHX0MMU2kmuEJeJRcQxgJrZR5T7-Tr/s1600/cicada.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1kYQifd1dvK62hoEYonXjMuFtHGrGu7XoTUr4q6REPtmSrai0KHWL_kftNouxd0Y9pUPM9hBbi4dSYdYEvMlyi3qEmEb9kUCfp5VPappQOrk-ewnHX0MMU2kmuEJeJRcQxgJrZR5T7-Tr/s200/cicada.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712910079294873506" /></a><br /><p>Since it’s the summer holiday now, work is slow and boring, but I’ve been able to break up my weeks with a few excursions.  In the first week of the month, a group from Taiwan came to visit my church.  They consisted of an American missionary who’s been living in Taiwan and a half-dozen American-born Chinese teenagers.  They came to volunteer in Ishinomaki, one of the coastal towns that had been hard-hit by the tsunami.  The group stayed at the church and drove up to the town every day, along with anyone else who wanted to volunteer.  Since I had plenty of free time and hadn’t been volunteering for a while, I figured it was a perfect opportunity for me.  Even better, my school let me take “volunteer leave”, meaning that I didn’t have to use up any of my annual vacation days on the trip.</p><br /><p>I actually only went on two days, Wednesday and Thursday.  It made a nice change to get away from my desk and do some physical labour.  It also made a <em>really</em> nice change to be hanging out with other Anglophones, even if they were teenagers.  On both days I helped work in a field that various people had apparently been working on for some weeks!  The field had been right next to a cell phone factory, and the tsunami had washed all sorts of cell phone parts and other débris into it.  Our task was to sift through it and remove all the parts and other garbage we could find.</p><br /><p>It was reasonably mindless and straightforward work, though unexpectedly taxing.  On the first day I neglected to warm up before hand, and in the evening discovered that my arm muscles <em>ached</em> quite painfully.  The next day I was much more conscientious about stretching.  Most of the junk we recovered was fairly uninteresting, but we did find a teapot and a couple of cups that may or may not have been salvageable.  On the second day I also hit on a mother-load of sludge (earth mixed with petrol), which all had to be dug up and carted away.  Clearly the person who owned the field needed a lot of help if he was to get it in shape for planting again.</p><br /><p>In the afternoon of the first day the person who’d brought me took me for a drive around the neighbourhood.  Although lots of people had been working on it for months, there was still a stunning amount of visible damage.  Some houses clearly hadn’t been touched since the tsunami.  There were still cars and the occasional boat piled up in strange places.  It was a sobering reminder of how many people have been affected by the disaster.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjyHHs7ZuBbYyr-kHpaF33p7QqckMmL3-I-dkZNap29z8UTQalOopEONfZGPY9BL60W9FzUEDcZW_7-65fyqJgvk7RRIwyrBtxPJXkp8J1T6hFIO80BDiTi0aqM7U51SwfPVhjNGyKSHJ/s1600/IMG_1208.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgjyHHs7ZuBbYyr-kHpaF33p7QqckMmL3-I-dkZNap29z8UTQalOopEONfZGPY9BL60W9FzUEDcZW_7-65fyqJgvk7RRIwyrBtxPJXkp8J1T6hFIO80BDiTi0aqM7U51SwfPVhjNGyKSHJ/s200/IMG_1208.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712909468476957778" /></a><br /><p>In the middle of the month I took my three days of summer vacation and used them to make a second trip to Tokyo.   This time I decided to save money by taking the bus.  The shinkansen may only take a couple of hours, but it costs a hundred dollars each way, whereas you can get a return bus ticket for about seventy.  I got the bus on Wednesday evening after work.  The trip took five hours, about the same as a bus ride between Ottawa and Toronto, and got me into Tokyo around 11:00 p.m.  I checked into the same hostel I’d stayed at in June, having liked it and seeing no reason to search for a different one.</p><br /><p>The next morning I met up with my acquaintance from Tokyo, the one who had come to visit me at Christmas.  He took me to O-Daiba, an island in Tokyo Bay.  First we went to the Museum of Maritime Science.  It was bigger than Osaka’s Maritime Museum, and rather entertainingly shaped like a giant ship, but I wasn’t quite as impressed with it somehow.  My favourite exhibit was the ships in the bay next to the museum, which one could walk around and have a look at.</p><br /><p>Next we went to the “Miraikan”, Japan’s National Museum of Emerging Science and Innovation.  This was evidently the place to see the latest in Japan’s famed advanced technology.  We arrived just at the end of the robot show, where Honda’s ASIMO was on display.  The rest of the museum dealt largely with science and technology in general, but there was an area specifically devoted to the latest technological advancements, and it was pretty interesting, even if I didn’t fully understand everything in it.</p><br /><p>We ended up at Decks Tokyo Beach, where we had dinner and window shopped a bit.  We bought ramune, a classic Japanese soft drink that I’d never tried before, and sat outside drinking it and looking out at Tokyo bay.  From where we were we could see the Rainbow Bridge leading back to the mainland and a replica Statue of Liberty adorning the shoreline.  That’s the second replica Statue of Liberty I’ve seen here in Japan; the other was the one in Ishinomaki.  I wonder what the fascination is.</p><br /><p>On Friday we went to the Science Museum, where I annoyed my companion by looking at everything and being fascinated by it.  The first section we visited was about the history of Japan and Japanese science, and from there we moved on to prehistoric mammals and hominids.  I could probably have stayed there all day, but we decided to take a break for lunch, after which we went to the Edo-Tokyo Museum.  This museum deals with Tokyo history.  Unlike the Tokyo National Museum, which consists mostly of artefacts in glass cases, this museum included reconstructed houses and neighbourhoods, allowing one to walk through historical Tokyo and see its evolution up to the present day.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEcifxSHJU5PWWjIHtmnmuajeSvSB89YciCi9KB3q0WXtQCjHXjoX4wPjcMjf4KQCWSRw4D1NoFVPXVyeg22g2pddsY_XkPIAa6TEQ17nfH17l3OgUhKGBFdHv_4T_fXred1-tqmGAr12/s1600/IMG_1204.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEcifxSHJU5PWWjIHtmnmuajeSvSB89YciCi9KB3q0WXtQCjHXjoX4wPjcMjf4KQCWSRw4D1NoFVPXVyeg22g2pddsY_XkPIAa6TEQ17nfH17l3OgUhKGBFdHv_4T_fXred1-tqmGAr12/s200/IMG_1204.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712909282796960082" /></a><br /><p>My Tokyo buddy left me on my own the next day, but I had unexpected company.  The ALT I know from Fukushima happened to be in the city, along with her uncle, who was visiting her from Canada.  She invited me to come along, so I spent the day hanging out with the two of them.  We walked around the Imperial Palace grounds, then went to Ikebukuro for dinner and some shopping.  We went up to the top of the Sunshine 60 building, and I saw Tokyo by night for only the second time since coming to Japan.  It’s quite a sight.  Admittedly, I don’t have many other night time city views to compare it to, but I found it breathtaking on both occasions.  It felt like looking down on a galaxy, the lights spread out in all directions like a sea of stars.  If you ever go to Tokyo, make a point of seeing it like that at least once.</p><br /><p>We got together again the next day for some browsing in the Senso-ji market, then lunch at the okonomiyaki place my sister and I had gone to.  I left them in the afternoon to meet my Japanese acquaintance.  He took me to see a temple and a church, then we wandered around west Shinjuku, where I took pictures of all the buildings that had fascinated me on my arrival in Japan.  Then he helped me fulfil one of my chief shopping goals: to purchase a Japanese copy of <u>The Hobbit</u>.  I collect the book in different languages, my sister and I buying copies when we visit foreign countries.  The Japanese edition brings the number of translations I own to five, the others being French, German, Italian, and traditional Chinese.  The book is far to difficult for me to read and understand, but being so familiar with it I can still pick out passages I like and see how they appear in translation.</p><br /><p>Though the heat was brutal, I enjoyed my second trip to Tokyo.  There’s a lot to see there, and much of it I still haven’t gotten to yet.  The subway system continued to frustrate me, but I’m beginning to understand it at least a bit better.  One complicating factor, I’ve realised, and the thing that gave me such a headache early on, is that there are very few hub stations.  Tokyo Metro alone has over a dozen lines, but even at the bigger stations no more than three of four will converge.  The one exception is Shinjuku, where <em>everything</em> converges, making it so huge it’s really best avoided if possible.  The city makes up for this by being quite thoroughly – even redundantly – interconnected.  No matter where you’re starting from, you can get to pretty much any place in downtown in just two train rides – though remarkably few in just one.  And in place of one big station, the busier areas are often serviced by multiple small station.  Case in point: if you want to go to Ginza, there are about five subway lines that will take you straight there.  These lines go to three different stations that, at their most proximate exits, are barely two blocks from each other.  As I mentioned in my last Tokyo post, I’ve had to do more walking than that <em>within</em> a station!  The prices are reasonable, as long as you stay within the Tokyo Metro system.  Unfortunately the most convenient line in the city, the Yamanote Line, is part of the JR system, which one pays separately for.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4vWu0WpVQCBnU8-7A_1Cy38z_yAWUWQW4SFu9-CyC6oQ-MKq1J_XrfI0IwHgm_rxUItZBzUsoXXb4XjScUzMZsafrbJll2z5me6-K-gI8ufvgmh-ra8El5TmovmBIc74RIpueBfQKIpgC/s1600/IMG_1278.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4vWu0WpVQCBnU8-7A_1Cy38z_yAWUWQW4SFu9-CyC6oQ-MKq1J_XrfI0IwHgm_rxUItZBzUsoXXb4XjScUzMZsafrbJll2z5me6-K-gI8ufvgmh-ra8El5TmovmBIc74RIpueBfQKIpgC/s200/IMG_1278.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712909985536119042" /></a><br /><p>Back at school, I’ve kept myself from going crazy by making a lot of work for myself.  One thing I’ve been working on is a project I started last summer but never completed.  I went around and interviewed each of the teachers with the intention of posting mini-profiles of them on my English board.  Unfortunately once the school year started most of the teachers were busy, and I never got around to finishing the interviews.  Since everyone has a lot of free time these days, I’ve started them up again.  The interviews are really simple, partly because my Japanese is so limited, and partly because I want the results to be easy enough for the students to understand.  I’ll try to start posting them next month.</p><br /><p>I got some sad news about one of my students.  Apparently a fifth-year girl at one of my elementary schools was killed in a car accident.  I know the class she was in; I’ve visited it many times.  I even saw a picture of her, but I still couldn’t place her or recall any memory attached to her.  It’s sad though, for her family and her classmates.  Oddly, I didn’t get the news from my school, but from the pastor’s wife at my church.  I don’t know why the school wouldn’t tell me something like that.  Maybe they thought I wouldn’t know how to react – to be fair, they’d be right.  I feel as though I should say something to the class when I see them next.  But then, what would I say?  It would be awkward enough trying to express condolences in English; in Japanese I think I’d just fumble the whole thing hopelessly.  So maybe it’s better that I not say anything.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZC60TUbr85t6xIXJe9NybrFTY7q8eL-QpOZW-WbChHgk6Q5I6dFI4J7xee-COVp8olT0EPVBK5_N934furNblVSnhqWd8oSn6HQ8v8EgiEXtI3DBsA8VMz9OAHiOsfGxfW69EZbgXcm1/s1600/IMG_1207.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZC60TUbr85t6xIXJe9NybrFTY7q8eL-QpOZW-WbChHgk6Q5I6dFI4J7xee-COVp8olT0EPVBK5_N934furNblVSnhqWd8oSn6HQ8v8EgiEXtI3DBsA8VMz9OAHiOsfGxfW69EZbgXcm1/s200/IMG_1207.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712909637628751074" /></a><br /><p>There seem to be a lot of festivals in Sendai during the summer, all of them involving fireworks.  I actually went out with my tea lady on three separate occasions to see them, which gave me an excuse to get some more use out of my new yukata.  There was also a big fireworks show in downtown Sendai that I’d missed last year but that I got to see this time around.  I’ve seen a <em>lot</em> of fireworks shows: in Hong Kong, in Vancouver, and in Ottawa.  But Japan can definitely hold its own in the fireworks department.</p><br /><p>One of the other ALTs is trying to start up a prayer/fellowship group for some of the Christians here.  She held the first meeting at the end of the month.  It was nice to hang out with some of the ALTs in a different kind of context and to share fellowship with English-speaking Christians for a change.  I don’t know when the next meeting will be, but I hope it becomes a regular thing.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKmvB3C9TgMESh9Fji1rdaUbluS5WL-74-Oy-vEr5YIpf38km1p3NdyN6VA3OBa1Dc3pE8UCUpb2lXSqC_4DBRdZZWNj8Dxm-2IhtMvtCLnX93roCjxdHhc50pl97djuYjpq-33I81s0L/s1600/IMG_1311.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKmvB3C9TgMESh9Fji1rdaUbluS5WL-74-Oy-vEr5YIpf38km1p3NdyN6VA3OBa1Dc3pE8UCUpb2lXSqC_4DBRdZZWNj8Dxm-2IhtMvtCLnX93roCjxdHhc50pl97djuYjpq-33I81s0L/s200/IMG_1311.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712910225226920242" /></a><br /><p>In the news this month, London has exploded in riots.  The United States is in a state of financial crisis and President Obama’s not having an easy time dealing with it.  Japan has a new prime minister.  His name is… hang on a second… Noda Yoshihiko.  I know I should take more of an interest, but given that Japan changes prime ministers as often as it changes calendars, it’s kind of a pain to keep up with them all.  The last P.M., Kan Naoto, was actually in office for over a year – since before I came to Japan.  I wonder if this one will still be in power when I leave, or if I’ll have to learn <em>another</em> name before I’m done here.</p><br /><p>Finally, Jack Layton, leader of Canada’s New Democratic Party, is dead.  It’s official: I hate 2011.  I was never exactly a fan of Jack Layton.  I’ve always found him a bit smug and obnoxious.  And I wouldn’t consider myself an N.D.P. supporter, any more than I’d align myself with any of Canada’s major parties.  But it’s still a sad loss.  The timing seems especially cruel.  He died less than four months after leading his party to its biggest victory ever, never getting a chance to assume his role as leader of the opposition, and leaving the party leaderless as it faces a whole set of new challenges.  Interestingly the other two major opposition parties are also going through leadership crises.  I guess the silver lining is that since our current government will probably be around for a while, they all have plenty of time to sort themselves out before the next election.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLB0VZoLjD6-YaYax9uMGIuTGPKijMvwzKHSFUNST0eVtfBGOoIHWcast4rE0P6okSA8rXGBhYjqJ1bh0oA13eoQ0QQ2q1gWBkNcaf2s1vsQutZESYfBlIQMJdvGjVLsEkQy07Fk4_D4-/s1600/IMG_1370.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLB0VZoLjD6-YaYax9uMGIuTGPKijMvwzKHSFUNST0eVtfBGOoIHWcast4rE0P6okSA8rXGBhYjqJ1bh0oA13eoQ0QQ2q1gWBkNcaf2s1vsQutZESYfBlIQMJdvGjVLsEkQy07Fk4_D4-/s200/IMG_1370.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712910387530412946" /></a><br /><p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br /><p><u>Up</u> – This movie has a fun premise (a grumpy old man uses helium balloons to turn his house into his own private zeppelin) and a heart-warming story (the relationship between said old man and a lonely young boy).  I liked the main characters and most of the supporting cast too.  But <em>man alive</em> does Disney need better villains!  (Three stars)</p><br /><p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br /><p><u>A Walk In The Woods</u> by Bill Bryson – My second Bill Bryson book, this one is set in his native U.S.A. and is about hiking the Appalachian trail.   It was nice to read a hiking book by someone who wasn’t an expert hiker – in other words, someone whose hiking experience would probably be similar to my own.  And I enjoyed the anecdotes with which Bryson supplements his story and the combination of awe, wonder, and horror with which he approaches the natural world.  As Dana Scully once said: “Respect Nature, ‘cause it has no respect for you.”</p><br /><p><u>Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire</u> by J. K. Rowling – It’s hard to say where the story is going for most of this book.  Most of it deals with a competition called the Triwizard Tournament – a frankly goofy-sounding event that Harry gets sucked into.  It all feels pretty inconsequential – until near the end when the plot suddenly takes a dramatic left-hand turn into Darker and Edgier territory.  Over all, I think Rowling handles this very well, even if it is necessary to follow it up with about a hundred pages of dénouement.   I do, however, wonder if the bad guys couldn’t have come up with simpler plan to achieve their evil ends.</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-54401509430445833052012-02-10T01:19:00.001-08:002012-03-12T01:58:55.497-07:00Atsui desu ne!* - July 2011<p>Summer’s back and so is the heat.  I already discussed it in last summer’s post; suffice it to say it’s <em>really</em> hot here, as my teachers are fond of pointing out repeatedly.  One of them asked me if Canada gets this hot.  I told her that yes, on occasion, we get some pretty hot summer days, but that’s why July is summer vacation.  Here the teachers and students are forced to sweat it out till the end of the month.</p><br /><p>At the end of June I agreed to go to another ALT’s school to help at his culture day.  Since it was so close to the beginning of July, I teamed up with another Canadian and we taught a lesson on Canada Day.  Our topic was food.  We taught the students the names of popular dishes and asked them to guess their countries of origin – because as everyone knows, we don’t have food in Canada; we just borrow everyone else’s.  I also talked a bit about Canada Day with my elementary school students, and handed out the Canadian flag stickers I’d gotten from my sister.  I realised it was my first ever Canada Day spent outside of the country, and I’m glad I got a chance to commemorate it even a little bit.  At church I was invited to talk about my favourite part of the summer and ended up going off into a long description of Canada Day and how I usually celebrate it.  One of the members said he’d never seen me get so animated about anything before!</p><br /><p>At my own school, the students had their “Chorus Contest”, in which each class sings a set of songs and a prize is awarded to the best class in each grade.  The students spent the better part of the last couple of months rehearsing and preparing for the competition, though from my perspective it was just a chance to get out of school for a day and enjoy some music.  The highlight of the competition was actually a half-time show where the new English teacher played his guitar for us.  He’s really good!  It was unlike any guitar playing I’d ever seen before, and I sat mesmerised through the whole thing.</p><br /><p>I’ve had some success recently introducing new ideas for activities into my classes.  I convinced the third-year teacher to let me do rebuses with the students, and despite the lack of language arts practice they usually get they handled them quite well.  I also filled up some of my free time making pronunciation trees for some of the minimal pairs Japanese speakers usually find difficult.  “R” vs “L”, “B” vs “V”, “A” vs “U”, “S” vs “Th”… the list is quite long, actually.  I’ve started using them in both my second- and third-year classes, and I think I’ve hit on the perfect activity to make me, the students, <em>and</em> the local teachers happy.  Pronunciation is something we can <em>all</em> agree is important; it’s practical in a really concrete way that’s easy for the teachers to understand; and it’s one of the elements of English that I, as a native speaker, am genuinely an expert on.  I’m probably going to make this activity a regular one throughout the rest of the year; we’ll see how many pairs I’m able to get through.</p><br /><p>Another activity came about when my second-year teacher asked me to do a special lesson with one of her classes.  I was as thrilled as I always am to be suddenly tasked with doing an entire lesson on my own (which is to say, not at all), but upon checking out my favourite websites I came upon the brilliant idea of doing a MASH game with my students.  Do you remember MASH?  It’s a game I remember playing as a pre-adolescent, the point of which is to try and predict what kind of a future you will have: whom you will marry, where you will live, what kind of job you will have, etc.  I quickly realised the game would be a great opportunity to give the students a lot of speaking practice while hopefully having fun.  The demonstration took a long time, but once the students understood the activity, they basically just ran it themselves.  For the most part they looked like they enjoyed it, and the teacher decided to do it with her other three classes as well.</p><br /><p>There’s one new activity idea that recently came to me all the way from Canada.  Back at the beginning of June I got an e-mail from someone in the JET Programme about a bunch of letters the Japanese Embassy in Canada had received.  The letters were from Canadian elementary school students expressing their condolences in the wake of the earthquake and tsunami.  The Embassy had apparently passed the letters on to the JET Programme, who in turn wondered if I would be interested in having some of them.  I was a bit hesitant to take them, given that few of my students had been seriously affected by the disaster, but I talked to my head teacher about it, and she seemed supportive of the idea, so eventually I accepted.</p><br /><p>The letters didn’t arrive until the end of July, just before the start of summer vacation, so I haven’t had a chance to do anything with them yet.  I have, however, read them and shown them to my teachers.  They’re quite touching.  There are twelve in all, written by grade three and four students from a small town in eastern Ontario.  The language is simpler than an adult would use, but still much more natural – and therefore challenging – than most of the reading material my students work with, besides being full of spelling and grammatical errors.  I don’t know how optimistic I should be about getting my students to read and understand them, but the teachers seem to agree that I should at least try to share them.  That’ll be something to work on in the fall.</p><br /><p>At the end of the month, my head teacher, who also teaches second-year English, came to me with the news that she was going to be giving a presentation on teaching practices.  As part of her brainstorming, she asked me what I thought of English education in Japan.</p><br /><p>I was like, <em>seriously?!</em></p><br /><p>I stalled for a couple of minutes as I desperately tried to think of something diplomatic to say.  I mean, I doubted that, “I think English education in Japan is a joke, why do you ask?” would go over too well.  Eventually I hit on the idea of framing everything as a comparison between the Japanese method of teaching English and the Canadian method of teaching French.  I stressed repeatedly that second language education in Japan was very… <em>different</em> from what I had grown up with.  Not wrong… just… <em>different</em>.  I tried to avoid giving the impression that I thought everything about French education in Canada was perfect – I don’t!  Indeed, I might have enjoyed French a lot more if it had been more like English in Japan.  But the comparison gave me a chance to air a lot of my pet peeves: the use of Japanese by English teachers; the emphasis on rote memorisation; the lack of authentic speaking practice.  More than once I touched on the fact that the focus in Japan is mostly on passing exams, with very little emphasis placed on practical English skills.  She seemed to agree with me on the last point, and asked me for suggestions on how this could be improved.</p><br /><p>I’m not very good at hedging, and I’m afraid that despite my best efforts I may have offended her.  I’m also afraid that I may have dug myself into a bit of a hole, because she probably thinks it’s my job to fix the problems I mentioned.  I kept trying to remind her that I’m not actually a trained teacher, and not in a position to say what would be best for the students.  After all, it’s very easy to find fault with someone else’s teaching style; it’s a lot harder to improve upon it.  And if the teachers here suffer from the disease of underestimating their students, I know I have the opposite problem.  I tend to make activities that are too challenging, forgetting what a struggle learning a foreign language can be.</p><br /><p>She listened very politely and seemed to take most of my points well.  An idea I stressed a few times was that the students would learn more if the English teachers spoke English in class.  Interestingly, she suggested that her poor English skills were a barrier to doing this, and I found myself contradicting her.  Her English <em>is</em> pretty poor, but it’s adequate for the class she’s teaching.  The problem is that she doesn’t use it enough.  She has the same lack of self-confidence that plagues her students and prevents them from improving their speaking skills.</p><br /><p>She latched onto the idea that students need more speaking practice, and actually made one suggestion I think has a lot of potential: every class, one student has to give a short speech about some topic.  I made the point that it could be a <em>very</em> short speech, as long as it got the students into the habit of talking about themselves in English.  We won’t be able to try out the idea till the resumption of classes in the fall, but I’m looking forward to seeing how it goes.</p><br /><p>One other interesting thing happened at school.  My tea lady has adopted a baby sparrow.  Apparently it fell out of its nest and she brought it inside and put it in a box of paper shreds.  It’s currently living in a cage in our school office and I visit it sometimes to help feed it worms.  She’s named it Piko-chan.</p><br /><p>It’s the end of the JET contract year, and we had a “Leavers Party” to see off the departing ALTs.  Most of the ALTs I know are coming back next year, including the one from Singapore, but the Australian one’s going home.  I’ll miss her.  I guess I’ll have to go to Australia some time to visit her!</p><br /><p>The Singaporean ALT and I went to the park one evening to see the fireflies, which are supposed to be a famous summer attraction in Japan.  It was in fact my first time to see fireflies in action, and I have to admit they were very pretty to watch.</p><br /><p>Although the aftershocks have gotten pretty infrequent and mild now, we actually had a big one at the beginning of the month.  It measured 7.0 on the Richter scale, making it our biggest event since I was shaken out of bed at the beginning of April.  Fortunately it didn’t do much damage or even disrupt life in Sendai significantly.  But here’s the amazing thing: I completely failed to notice it!  When people mentioned it to me afterwards, I had no idea what they were talking about.  Turns out I was walking to church when it struck, and I guess I was so focused on getting there in a hurry that I didn’t feel the earth move under my feet.  To be fair, earthquakes are less noticeable when you’re outside, but I still find that remarkable.</p><br /><p>I got to celebrate my birthday a few different ways.  I went over to my tea lady’s house on Saturday and she had a little party for me and one of her nieces, whose birthday was around the same time.  I also went out to dinner with the Singaporean ALT, and got birthday cards and e-mails of well-wishes from my friends.  So over all it was a cheerful celebration away from home.</p><br /><p>I also received one really nice gift, though not a birthday present exactly.  As an anniversary present to celebrate the fact that we’d both been in Japan for a year, my church gave me and the English teacher each our very own yukata!  A yukata is a light summer kimono.  I’d been wanting one for a while, and thinking that it would make a very good souvenir of my time in Japan.  And now I have one!  I was surprised and thrilled by my church’s generosity.  I mean, I can understand that they’d want to give a thank-you gift to the teacher who <em>works there</em>, but to give one to me too seems extravagant.  It’s quite nice, too, and fits me fairly well despite my uncommonly tall stature.</p><br /><p>I got to wear the yukata that very day to a festival that was happening downtown.  It was actually a combination of several festivals; as part of the effort to improve post-earthquake morale, Sendai decided to host six festivals at the same time, one from each of the prefectures in Tohoku (north-eastern Japan).  I’ve had other opportunities to wear the yukata, too.  A lot of festivals take place over the summer, and my tea lady has taken me to see them with her family.</p><br /><p>One other thing happened this month to mark the passage of my time in Japan: my watch battery died.  Which meant that I had to go and get it replaced.  And when I did, I found that, naturally enough, the people at the watch counter had set my watch to the correct local time.  Up to then, it had been fixed on Eastern Daylight Time, regardless of my location or the time of year.  I thought of setting it back, but since it had been set for me, and since I intended to stay in Japan for at least another year, I figured I might as well leave it there.  So now, after almost a year in Japan, I am at last functioning on Japanese time.</p><br /><p>In the news this month, Japan won the Women’s World Cup in Germany.  Considering the rough times that Japan has been through recently, the victory has been something of a national morale-booster and a source of national pride.  In the United States, New York has legalised same-sex marriage.  And the world has a new country: South Sudan has seceded from the north to become its own sovereign state.</p><br /><p>In grimmer news, the normally peaceful country of Norway suffered two coordinated terrorist attacks, one a car bombing, the other a shooting at a youth camp, that have left over seventy people dead.  Have I mentioned how much the news this year sucks?</p><br /><p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br /><p><em>Super 8</em> – A sci-fi action-adventure told through the eyes of a group of adolescent filmmakers.  The film is almost worth watching for the kids, who are funny and engaging in a way that took me back to an early Spielberg movie.  Plus, it’s nice for a change to have teenaged characters actually played by teenaged actors.  The downside is that nothing else about the movie really works.  The story is confused, the ending doesn’t make sense, and the special effects threaten to overwhelm the film.  Oh, and cool though they may look on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, lens flares do <em>not</em> automatically make everything better.  (Two and a half stars)</p><br /><p><em>Inception</em> – I was really impressed with this movie, which is well worth all the hype it’s been getting.  I was expecting an action-packed special effects show, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it’s actually much more of an idea movie, as reminiscent of <em>Solaris</em> as it is of <em>The Matrix</em>.  The premise is fascinating, to a degree where I almost wish that there could be sequels or even a T.V. show based on it.  The story is basically that of a heist film, and is as fun as any other movie in that genre, with the twist that the fortress is someone’s mind, and the goal is to put something <em>in</em> rather than take it <em>out</em>.  Any ethical issues this presents are completely ignored by the characters, which is just as well, as there would be no way to justify them.  I’m not sure it all makes perfect sense; I have a suspicion that once I go back and re-watch it a few times I’ll start finding all sorts of plot holes.  But on first viewing it worked really well.  (Four stars)</p><br /><p><em>Lilo & Stitch</em> – A troubled orphan girl adopts a belligerent alien and teaches him the true meaning of family.  Quite unlike any other Disney movie, it’s set in the present, has protagonists with genuine flaws, and lacks a clear villain.  While these departures from the traditional formula could have made the movie weak, they actually create a fresh and interesting story that’s just a little bit gritty but still heart-warming.  I even liked the soundtrack, which might just turn me into an Elvis fan yet!  (Four stars)</p><br /><p><em>Ratatouille</em> – This Disney film was more disappointing.  The premise of the rat who becomes a master chef is cute, but the main characters were a little too annoying, and the plot took a few too many twists.  (Three stars)</p><br /><p><em>Grave of the Fireflies</em> – Tragic story of two young children struggling to survive in the decline of World War II.  It pulls on the heartstrings fairly unsubtly, and I couldn’t help wondering if it wasn’t over-doing it at times, but I’ve never had to live through wartime deprivation, so I probably shouldn’t judge.  (Three stars)</p><br /><p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br /><p><em>The Silver Chair</em> by C. S. Lewis – Still slowly re-working my way through the Narnia books.  This one has a tighter story than its predecessor.  It also contains some of the more blatantly didactic passages of the series.  As a child I think I liked the book less for that, though as an adult I find the religious allegories interesting.  I do have to say that I’m uncomfortable with the ending, which has always struck me as strange and I still don’t understand.</p><br /><p><em>Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone</em> by J. K. Rowling – Why did I ever think this book was badly written?  I guess it depends on what one’s comparing it to.  It’s not <em>The Lord of the Rings</em>, to be sure, but it’s not exactly <em>Eragon</em> either.  Reading it as an adult, obviously, I find the characters a little flat and the plot a little over-determined, but I’m sure it would make a perfectly enjoyable read for a child in the target demographic.  My only two major complaints are that the magic isn’t well explained, and the humour feels a trifle mean-spirited in places.</p><br /><p><em>Shame</em> by Salman Rushdie – Yet another abstract and satirical tale about the Indian subcontinent, this one focusing on Pakistan.  Unfortunately I don’t know much Pakistani history, and I think a lot of the allegory was lost on me for that reason.  It’s the kind of book that makes me wish I was back in school, because I’m sure it would be fascinating to deconstruct and discuss in a classroom context, but I found it a little hard to interpret on my own.  Vaguest of all for me was the title; the book is explicitly and self-referentially supposed to be about the damaging effects of shame, but I couldn’t see how that theme played out in the actual story.</p><br /><p><em>Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets</em> by J. K. Rowling – The second book in the Harry Potter series, and probably one of the weaker ones.  One point against it is the introduction of Dobby, a character whose sole function is to annoy.  Another is its reliance on the adults being useless.  One sort of gets the impression that the story could have been wrapped up within the first six months if the kids had only discussed what they knew with one of the teachers.</p><br /><p><em>Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban</em> by J. K. Rowling – My favourite of the Harry Potter books so far.  It’s considerably longer than its predecessors, with some interesting twists and a likeable new character in the person of Prof. Lupin.</p><br /><p>* “Atsui desu ne!”: Japanese for “It’s hot, eh?”</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-84098782307257651792012-01-20T23:06:00.002-08:002012-02-28T02:44:04.744-08:00Tokyo - June 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwPGs36ZDXNg6dDJln10Pz0xE-YT53SF106119Y3MoZHs-YJvE1DXmOEnlWXJ7puXKVp1hMuuZyBpPVHiVJ8o2zPgFiBViEh36tC0ImRM509rGpeqAX7qlhD1xxXK1d3PFoaK9c-VlEtuD/s1600/IMG_0967.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwPGs36ZDXNg6dDJln10Pz0xE-YT53SF106119Y3MoZHs-YJvE1DXmOEnlWXJ7puXKVp1hMuuZyBpPVHiVJ8o2zPgFiBViEh36tC0ImRM509rGpeqAX7qlhD1xxXK1d3PFoaK9c-VlEtuD/s200/IMG_0967.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699980484913137986" /></a><br /><p>Back in May, my acquaintance from Fukushima called me up and asked if I would be interested in joining her and her friends on a weekend trip to Tokyo to see the stage production of <em>The Lion King</em>. I accepted, naïvely assuming that a weekend trip meant that I wouldn’t have to miss any work. As it turned out, that weekend happened to be a sports day, meaning that I was expected to be at school. On the bright side, my head teacher told me I was free to take a holiday on those days; it just meant using up two days of paid leave.</p><br /><p>At the same time, my sister had floated the idea of coming to Japan to visit me. I was reluctant to encourage her, with the country recovering and aftershocks still a near-daily phenomenon. But she seemed to think it was safe enough, and with the situation improving weekly it was hard to contradict her. She’d mentioned June as a good time, and it struck me that if I was going to Tokyo anyway, it would be the perfect opportunity to meet up with her and have a proper Tokyo vacation.</p><br /><p>So I settled on the following plan. I used up the last of my vacation days to take a full week off work. On Saturday I would go down to Tokyo with the other ALTs. Then on Sunday my sister would fly in and I would meet up with her. We’d spend a few days in the city before going back to Sendai together.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJOaZtLuG8IkpU56Nl_YFbgttp5PWhuuOhfQ3HazkevSGL-OhkoboaO4q9Fk9f5ygNyiNXy1-N3ohjQoQ9pRnFfaLQgJoK6SeMGihgRQncWKi6pivWd-beOMSltjiCHYoUYVe46rRmWWZG/s1600/IMG_0906.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJOaZtLuG8IkpU56Nl_YFbgttp5PWhuuOhfQ3HazkevSGL-OhkoboaO4q9Fk9f5ygNyiNXy1-N3ohjQoQ9pRnFfaLQgJoK6SeMGihgRQncWKi6pivWd-beOMSltjiCHYoUYVe46rRmWWZG/s200/IMG_0906.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699987548805687842" /></a><br /><p>On Friday evening I went down to Fukushima by train and bus. The next morning we got the bullet train to Tokyo. The ALTs had booked us a room at an international hostel in Asakusa, in the north-eastern part of the city. The hostel was right next to Senso-ji Temple, which we had to walk through to get to the subway station, so that was one tourist attraction I saw quite a lot of.</p><br /><p>After lunch and some window-shopping in Ikebukuro, we headed down to the theatre for the show. I’d seen <em>The Lion King</em> once before in Toronto, but this production had the added novelty of being in Japanese! My Japanese skills are evidently still really poor, because I understood almost nothing of what the characters were saying. On the other hand, I’d seen the movie so many times I knew pretty much all the dialogue anyway. The theatre wasn’t as big as the one in Toronto, but in spite of that they managed to put on a spectacular performance that was well-worth seeing.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHpBiQZDCs8AUZWuEACfJXLs8sUe_bXSXyUeMCLE1DNVl258tO52e4MemNDqosoM-Lu3uSfUDOdah_4tY_Wek29tGQsLPYIuGVm-NtUKm06Ce2tzqHLOqNl-HEsdhWvlvSz58N3B-gTB2T/s1600/IMG_0885.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHpBiQZDCs8AUZWuEACfJXLs8sUe_bXSXyUeMCLE1DNVl258tO52e4MemNDqosoM-Lu3uSfUDOdah_4tY_Wek29tGQsLPYIuGVm-NtUKm06Ce2tzqHLOqNl-HEsdhWvlvSz58N3B-gTB2T/s200/IMG_0885.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699982112372500322" /></a><br /><p>The next day we checked out of our shared room and I checked into a private one. I killed time letting the Fukushima ALT show me Ueno Park and the Science Museum, then took the train down to the airport to collect my sister. We caught up a bit and she gave me the things I’d asked her to bring from Canada: Canada flag stickers (I thought I could use them for Canada Day), toothpaste (with fluoride!), and sunscreen (you don’t know how expensive it is here!) I expected her to have wicked jet lag but she manned-up remarkably well under the circumstances and we managed to make the most of our time together.</p><br /><p>My sister had never been to Japan – or indeed Asia – before, so it fell to me to play tour guide. It was my first time in Tokyo and even after almost a year my Japanese was barely enough for the most basic conversation, but I was still the “expert”. I started by pulling out my Japanese guide book and noting some of the locations of interest I’d bookmarked. Then I turned to the subway map to see if I could figure out how to get us there.</p><br /><p>If you’ve never been to Tokyo, the first thing you need to know about it is the metro system. It truly is a wonder. The only thing I know of that even compares to it is the London Underground. It’s not as though I’ve never lived in a city with an extensive railway system; it was my main mode of transportation in Hong Kong. But even for a city of seven million people, the Hong Kong MTR map is nothing like the bird’s nest that confronts the recent arrival to Tokyo. After a couple of minutes of staring at the map with the exact same puzzled expression on my face I realised I was still no closer to understanding it than when I’d started. I thought it would snap into place after a moment or two, but it obstinately remained a tangled mess, reminiscent of the wires inside some electronic device or Salman Rushdie’s Ocean of the Streams of Story.</p><br /><p>It doesn’t help that when travelling around Tokyo you’re actually dealing with not one system, but several. The biggest is Tokyo Metro, but there are also lines run by the Japan Railway Company (JR), and other smaller companies. Transferring between these systems involves paying separately for each. And even when you stay within a system, transferring between lines can involve long walks, even leaving a station by one entrance and re-entering it by another. I’ve done a transfer that involved walking “500 m” (that’s right; half a kilometre) outside to get from one platform to another of what was nominally the same station!</p><br /><p>The one piece of good news was that my Suica card would work for both the JR and Tokyo Metro systems. It’s the card I use to take the train in my own city, and after a false start trying to figure out day passes and such we decided the easiest thing would be for my sister to get one too.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AGMapmlLI_MkJk1Ye0eEPIIKn1VvwOesE1-YT6InpuFEVS5Nbg9x0mBvjwdWjcyvj2xYl30ssY2JrkzcnYH0wQYYtHTXatRh2CNw81h2EYJaSNlhB8sY-ZVy8QtgTJmErTz6GgJoYmlK/s1600/IMG_0895.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AGMapmlLI_MkJk1Ye0eEPIIKn1VvwOesE1-YT6InpuFEVS5Nbg9x0mBvjwdWjcyvj2xYl30ssY2JrkzcnYH0wQYYtHTXatRh2CNw81h2EYJaSNlhB8sY-ZVy8QtgTJmErTz6GgJoYmlK/s200/IMG_0895.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699979279296127714" /></a><br /><p>On Monday we started back at Ueno Park. It’s a large public park in the northern part of the city, within walking distance of our hostel. It’s notable mostly for how big it is and how much it contains. Besides being a public green space it has several shrines, museums, a zoo, and other cultural centres. We couldn’t go to any of the museums, which are closed on Mondays, but we saw some of the larger shrines. Then we headed up to Koishikawa Korakuen, a garden in north-central Tokyo. It was quite lovely there, and though there weren’t as many flowers out as there would have been in the spring, we did get to see a lot of irises. After lunch we strolled south towards the Imperial Palace and actually made it all the way to Tokyo Station, where we got the train back to Asakusa.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdU_M6VeBL86iqQck-x7Oo8D-i2Va8fhH0hd4qL4UerqZ5Y0heVaWC3zln6Q6ixkVaL_vgEL0xlerT6MAFDy-J4ZB1HzQ6J14XIvePF9DNOaQBT9m_uC-stPdgk3uce25nuoA7LJclU-T/s1600/IMG_0956.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdU_M6VeBL86iqQck-x7Oo8D-i2Va8fhH0hd4qL4UerqZ5Y0heVaWC3zln6Q6ixkVaL_vgEL0xlerT6MAFDy-J4ZB1HzQ6J14XIvePF9DNOaQBT9m_uC-stPdgk3uce25nuoA7LJclU-T/s200/IMG_0956.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699980206797421602" /></a><br /><p>On Tuesday we went back to the Imperial Palace, hoping this time to see it properly. Unfortunately the grounds are usually closed, so the only thing we were able to do was walk <em>around</em> the park and through the East Garden, which is the one section that is open to the public. We walked down to Ginza for lunch, where we found a ramen shop serving cheese ramen. That was… different. We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around Ginza. I was looking for a nice fan shop where I could buy my mom a souvenir, and eventually found one after stretching my Japanese skills asking several people for directions. We browsed for a bit, then picked up dinner at the local Mitsukoshi department store.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleinFNnl3l3DI8t8ayAYkZzk-BxdPYwZ3K3pkoZTDxy_eFC1vR3vOzp5RDFncSzH-AznEEARA9eWTtXVXv16AGiUsA_i-uE3HDg9wJt6FbcG0aD1QYmTRA8rA9zA68rnTj5MjJlluFTJp/s1600/IMG_0953.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleinFNnl3l3DI8t8ayAYkZzk-BxdPYwZ3K3pkoZTDxy_eFC1vR3vOzp5RDFncSzH-AznEEARA9eWTtXVXv16AGiUsA_i-uE3HDg9wJt6FbcG0aD1QYmTRA8rA9zA68rnTj5MjJlluFTJp/s200/IMG_0953.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699978836772493986" /></a><br /><p>We returned to Ueno the next day to visit the Tokyo National Museum. The main building of the museum is full of historical Japanese artefacts, and I spent a good long while there learning what I could about Japanese history. The museum also contains a second building for foreign artefacts, but its collection is small and we finished there quickly. Then we went across town to the Harajuku district. We spent half an hour looking for somewhere to eat that wasn’t either ramen (by our third day together we were already sick of the stuff) or faux Italian, and finally stumbled on a decent Thai place.</p><br /><p>After lunch we went to our main destination: the Meiji Shrine, historically the shrine of the imperial family. I guess that makes it like Westminster Abbey with more trees and fewer dead people. The shrine is found in Yoyogi Park, yet another one of Tokyo’s large green spaces. The park is lovely, and much more attractive in itself than the actual shrine. The entrance is marked by a massive torii (Shinto gate) made of wood. We passed under that to a long, tree-lined promenade that was surprisingly scenic and peaceful for being at the heart of a big city. The road eventually took us to the shrine, where we dutifully took some pictures and then headed back into the park. On our way out we stopped into the Meiji Treasure House Annex. This is a small gallery with rotating exhibits of artefacts from the imperial treasure house. Their current exhibit was of kimonos, and we got to look at some gorgeous and lavish-looking robes.</p><br /><p>For our last dinner in the city, we went to an okonomiyaki place near the hostel. I’d told my sister that if she had to try one food in Japan, it was okonomiyaki. Fortunately I think the one we had lived up to my hype, though I was less impressed with monjayaki, which we also decided to try. Afterwards we went to Shinjuku, where I was hoping to show my sister Tokyo by night, but we got there too late and the observation deck was closed, so we just looked at some buildings and went back.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_UXiOtjbBalNmFfuDrPbS-k5rVdkOmxhHxyVK3PKJzL70UE9YIIS3s7t_SEW8NBA1eiiiqMoJvBYRfFQ9smnGb7EkP3J3WoA95dJT8mQ3Ki8nyfVjN_EGxU_7R-TsMkWPJAqn-LVIHik/s1600/IMG_0998.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_UXiOtjbBalNmFfuDrPbS-k5rVdkOmxhHxyVK3PKJzL70UE9YIIS3s7t_SEW8NBA1eiiiqMoJvBYRfFQ9smnGb7EkP3J3WoA95dJT8mQ3Ki8nyfVjN_EGxU_7R-TsMkWPJAqn-LVIHik/s200/IMG_0998.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699987952596176322" /></a><br /><p>On the morning of our last day we checked out of our hostel, found a place to store our bags, and took the train east to a suburb called Mitaka. We went to visit the Ghibli Museum, tribute to Japan’s most beloved studio of children’s animated movies. I’m a fan of Ghibli films and even wrote a <a href="http://www.members.tripod.com/jen_algonquin/black/movies/miyazakihayao.htm" target="_blank">paper</a> about them in university, so it seemed like this was one of the places I should see while I had the chance. Access to the museum is tightly controlled. Only a limited number of tickets are sold for each day, and have to be purchased in advance from Lawson’s convenience store. You also have to specify an entrance time when you get your ticket. Despite this, the place was packed, mostly with tykes half my height. That shouldn’t be surprising, though; the place is clearly designed with children in mind. The unusual architecture, the instructive displays about the making of animated movies, the giant stuffed Catbus – they were all things that would grab the attention of an eight-year-old. But aside from getting my picture taken with a Laputan robot I didn’t find much to hold my attention. I still recommend it if you’re travelling with kids, though.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChRYXs0JIOPlxUhlpgku1KeU-Y10dQqe_1mY8PGV6UynvXL19H5FSlgCo5wecxw1lzbGzWp9wH4hpOyGxXmtggLnhwcBjpdi12U7FuXo5hZli61J-torc1Q1GK_EbiB4IL0zwcJiT8Ol8/s1600/IMG_1057.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChRYXs0JIOPlxUhlpgku1KeU-Y10dQqe_1mY8PGV6UynvXL19H5FSlgCo5wecxw1lzbGzWp9wH4hpOyGxXmtggLnhwcBjpdi12U7FuXo5hZli61J-torc1Q1GK_EbiB4IL0zwcJiT8Ol8/s200/IMG_1057.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699981323321765026" /></a><br /><p>We took the Shinkansen home, which got us back to Sendai in just over no time. I didn’t have much to show my sister in the city, but I figured I could at least take her around some of my common haunts. On Friday we went up to my school. It was a holiday so there were few people around, but I introduced her to a few of the teachers and what students had come in for club activities. Then we went downtown and took a walk along the Ichi-ban Chou looking for souvenirs. In the evening my Japanese neighbours had us over for dinner and were characteristically friendly and helpful with suggestions for things we could do.</p><br /><p>On Saturday we took a walk around my neighbourhood, looking at rice fields, green hills, and one temple. In the evening my tea lady had us over for dinner. My poor sister had to sit patiently through an English lesson between me and the nieces, but at the end we got dinner, and the food was really good. We had sashimi rice, yakitori, and sukiyaki, and my sister was even brave enough to try natto, which I took a pass on. There was a mild aftershock that evening, one of a couple we experienced that weekend, but none of them was serious enough to be really impressive.</p><br /><p>Our last day together was spent with my Japanese neighbours, who volunteered to drive us to Zao in Yamagata prefecture. It was my first time there, though I’d heard about it before. We stopped several places, starting with a lookout point that had partly fallen away after the earthquake, then a gorge flanked with a Martian-like landscape of red earth and rocks. Our main destination was a volcanic crater, which was pretty cool to look at and which I was unfortunately unable to do justice to with any of the pictures I took. We had a picnic lunch and drove around Yamagata city for a bit, stopping for ice-cream before driving back.</p><br /><p>I said goodbye to my sister on Monday morning, seeing her safely to the train station before catching the bus to work. Our time together was too short, especially considering that it’ll probably be at least a year or two before we see each other again. But it was really nice to be able to show her some of my life in Japan, and it also gave me an excuse to see Tokyo.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9H1pr6sgch5jmQeI1E0Wcw3-yYAZceu2Died_MGKUwAPJlaxhJGHH4GFGXvBAM0z3K2MXcmQGAmHEAOlScqR1_Q3dx43uXK1rgqvSjgs-hyAP0swWO9kdkjYVzsBQnZxcqY_1JJgnu_5a/s1600/IMG_1029.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9H1pr6sgch5jmQeI1E0Wcw3-yYAZceu2Died_MGKUwAPJlaxhJGHH4GFGXvBAM0z3K2MXcmQGAmHEAOlScqR1_Q3dx43uXK1rgqvSjgs-hyAP0swWO9kdkjYVzsBQnZxcqY_1JJgnu_5a/s200/IMG_1029.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699981808284082050" /></a><br /><p>I’m continuing with my Japanese night course, where of late we keep getting free stuff handed to us. Apparently organisations have been donating things to the “disaster victims”, which is to say us. So one night we all went home with boxes of cookies, which I can’t say I particularly needed, but which I certainly enjoyed. Much more usefully, we all got hand-crank-operated flashlight-radios, exactly the sort of thing one would be glad to have in an emergency situation. Unfortunately the radio’s range is limited to the lower frequencies used in Japan, and may not be much use in other countries, but I still plan to add it to my permanent stock of emergency supplies.</p><br /><p>In the news this month, the Vancouver Canucks lost the Stanley Cup, prompting riots in downtown Vancouver. I don’t even know what to do with that. The rioters have done nothing to make either their city or their compatriots proud of them. But mostly I’m amazed that anyone could take a hockey game that seriously while simultaneously showing such a complete lack of sportsmanship. Sometimes people disgust me.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcN0l9f1RLnnl_qKNSCNxcr7tmkRqCkiBHzQ_7YVXXcXs-R2ojA33QBrj1GHuFl7CraROKWNS9OQY8tQ0ZW9lsCCFVRdsQl4HtFFeCkya7xEHf1Ly_SDUlvFF4nUleNZKU5Sq1sGwJvFLk/s1600/IMG_0882.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcN0l9f1RLnnl_qKNSCNxcr7tmkRqCkiBHzQ_7YVXXcXs-R2ojA33QBrj1GHuFl7CraROKWNS9OQY8tQ0ZW9lsCCFVRdsQl4HtFFeCkya7xEHf1Ly_SDUlvFF4nUleNZKU5Sq1sGwJvFLk/s200/IMG_0882.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699979736098028850" /></a><br /><p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br /><p><em>Monsters, Inc.</em> – I’m finally going back and watching all the Disney films I missed over the past decade, since I got too old to go see animated movies. I’m continuing to be impressed with them. Here’s yet another one with a good premise and likeable characters that feels like it could appeal to both children and adults. I really liked the main characters and the relationship between them. My one complaint is that the film seems at a bit of a loss when it comes to its villain, shoehorning one of the more engaging supporting characters into the role late in the story. (Three and a half stars)</p><br /><p><em>The Incredibles</em> – The first of the new Disney films I’ve been disappointed in. The struggles of a superhero family to re-adjust to the superhero life sounds like a great premise, but the story was too confused and the villain to annoying to be engaging. (Two and a half stars)</p><br /><p><em>The Cat Returns</em> – Another Studio Ghibli film. Not exactly a sequel to <em>Whisper of the Heart</em>, but featuring one of the supporting characters. Although it has some nice ideas, the story’s kind of juvenile and disconnected. It would work well as a short-story by a junior high school student, but doesn’t make for much of a movie. (One and a half stars)</p><br /><p>Plays I’ve seen this month:</p><br /><p><em>The Lion King</em> – Man, I’d forgotten what a great story <em>The Lion King</em> was. The theatrical version also has the added virtue of including several musical numbers not found in the original. An all-round enjoyable and entertaining experience!</p><br /><p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br /><p><em>The Picture of Dorian Gray</em> by Oscar Wilde – Interesting piece of imaginative fiction about a young man who wishes that a painting should bear the mark of all his sins for him. I wasn’t sure what to make of the ending, and I think sometimes Wilde is so obsessed with being clever that it’s hard to know what he’s really trying to say, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.</p><br /><p><em>Holes</em> by Louis Sachar – I caught the movie on T.V. a few years ago and thought it seemed like an interesting story poorly executed. As it turns out, it works much better as a novel, with a whimsical yet moving story reminiscent of one of the Jacob Two-Two books. The ending leaves a lot of loose ends, which is frustrating, but it’s still a good piece of children’s fiction.</p><br /><p><em>I am a Cat</em> by Natsume Sōseki, translated by Aiko Itō and Graeme Wilson – A long, meandering, and, frankly, quite dull string of anecdotes supposedly told from the perspective of a family cat. Some of the cat’s adventures were entertaining to read about, and if the story had focused more on the animal and less on his owner it might have been a lot more enjoyable, but with a few exceptions the human side of the story consists of nothing but long-winded and absurdly pointless conversations. Maybe I’d find more humour in them if I read them in the original Japanese, or had a better understanding of the time period, but as it was I didn’t get much out of them.</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-32668263150127388542012-01-06T21:52:00.001-08:002012-02-15T02:41:00.066-08:00Semblance of Normality - May 2011<p>Life in Sendai is now more or less back to normal – or at least, a reasonable semblance thereof.  In the coastal areas and around the power plant there are still lots of destruction and displaced people.  But in my part of the city things look much as they did before the earthquake, and it’s easy to forget that just a few short miles away whole neighbourhoods have been wiped out and lives upended.</p><br /><p>May began with “Golden Week”, a week featuring three holidays in a row that is consequently a popular time for taking vacations.  I had originally thought of going somewhere for the holiday, but after the earthquake changed my spring break plans, I decided to stay home.  The only real activity I got up to was singing.  The ALTs who had done carolling back in December were invited to sing at a refuge area as part of their Children’s Day celebrations.  We sang a couple of pieces from our Christmas repertoire, as well as some other numbers that were easy to learn and that we hoped would appeal to our audience.  Given my lack of actual vocal talent, I was most fond of singing “Stand By Me”, where a group of us formed a bassline and spent the entire song singing the same four bars over and over again.  The most moving song, for me at least, was “Lean on Me”.  It’s one of those songs I’d heard many times before, but never really thought about the lyrics to.  Although I’d always liked it, the words took on new meaning for me in light of the situation, because so many people had lost everything and so many others had stepped up to donate their time and money to help.  I actually found myself getting choked up while singing it.</p><br /><p>Speaking of donating time, I went volunteering again, and this time got sent to clean the yard of a house.  The tsunami had rolled over the whole area, leaving a water-line four feet high.  The house itself needed a lot of work too, but our job was to go through the yard collecting all the little bits of garbage that had washed up.  I worked for hours with a rake and by the time we were done had sifted through an area maybe four metres square.  I kept coming across patches of heavy black earth, which I thought at first must be ash from something burnt, but eventually discovered was petroleum.</p><br /><p>It wasn’t until we were done working that I really took a look around me to see what other kinds of damage had been done in the area.  Right next to where I was working was a rice field that looked like a burgeoning landfill.  It would need some serious work before it was anywhere near ready for growing rice again.  The house across from us was also a mess.  Clearly no one had done anything in there either, because furniture and debris were still plied up every which way inside and the walls had holes in them.  It’s sights like those that make one appreciate the scale of work to be done.</p><br /><p>I’ve started making elementary school visits again.  This year it looks like I’ll be spending most of my time with the grade five and six classes, which I’m happy about, since those tend to be my favourites.  I’m going to my tea lady’s house for dinner again.  Her family all survived the earthquake and seem to be fine.  At church, the English teacher from the U.S. has finally returned and is re-starting the English programme there.  It’s good to see him again, and to hear his stories about the awareness work he was doing while back home.</p><br /><p>I was falling behind in my Japanese study even before the earthquake, and once it came it drove all thoughts of homework out of my head.  As a result, even though the JET Programme extended the deadline for submitting out tests, I regret to say that I failed to complete my correspondence Japanese course.  I wasn’t finding it very easy to stay motivated anyway, and hopefully I’ll be able to find other ways to study.  I’ve decided to sign up for another round of night classes.  I completed the beginner programme in the fall, so now I’m in the high beginner class.  I was worried my Japanese might not be good enough for it, and I’m certainly the weakest student in the class.  But clearly I have actually learned a few things over the last nine months: I find the class challenging, but I’m able to keep up with most of the material.</p><br /><p>I got the rest of the packages my mom sent me from home.  The first ones contained a lot of snack food: granola bars, raw almonds, dried fruit, etc.  Not that free food isn’t nice, but given how easy food is to obtain here, they seemed a bit extravagant.  Still, snacks were made to be eaten, and some of them are things I haven’t been able to find here, so I’ll enjoy them.  The later packages contained oatmeal, more milk, pasta, canned fish, and beans, lots of beans.  In other word, really practical <em>food</em> food, the kind of food you’d be really grateful to have in a famine situation.  And again, stuff I was in no need of.  As I counted the items off I almost wanted to cry, thinking of how useful the food could have been to some people back in March.  I felt deeply unworthy of it, and wished there was some more worthy cause I could give it to.  I thought about donating it somewhere, and even asked around about it, but I don’t think there’s a big demand any more for individual food donations, and I’m not sure Japanese people would be interested in a lot of those things anyway.  So some of it’s going to get squirreled away as emergency supplies, and the rest I’ll eat up myself.</p><br /><p>Since the beginning of April we haven’t had any really big aftershocks, and in fact they’ve died down so much that we can go whole days without feeling any.  I’m starting to relax my hyper-prepared mentality, and with the weather getting warmer I’ve decided I should drain my bathtub too.  I’ve still got my backpack packed, though, and I’ll probably keep it that way for the rest of my time here.  If there’s one lasting effect the earthquake seems set to have, it’s to keep me vigilant about natural disasters.  I wouldn’t be surprised if, even when I get back to Ottawa, I remain the person who’s always stocked-up and prepared against the next earthquake, hurricane, or triffid attack.</p><br /><p>In the news this month, Osama bin Laden is dead.  I know I <em>shouldn’t</em> feel happy about that.  But I have to admit to a pang of glee when I first heard the news.  I actually wanted to jump up and shout, “Yippee!”  My own enthusiasm surprised me; it’s not like the attacks on the World Trade Center or any of his other crimes affected me personally, and I was never a fan of the so-called “War on Terror”.  But I guess those things have dominated the public consciousness so much over the past decade that I got caught up in them more than I realised.</p><br /><p>Fortunately I had a chance to re-evaluate my attitude once the initial shock had worn off, and now my feelings are more circumspect.  Thankfully the international response has also been somewhat equivocal.  I think Stephen Harper summed it up nicely in his “sober satisfaction” speech, and I felt both gratified and humbled to hear a family member of one of the victims say that the death in no way made up for her loss.  Ultimately, this is only a reason to celebrate if it actually makes the world a safer place and prevents further loss of life in the future.  Only time will tell us that.</p><br /><p>In other news, Canada had an election.  I didn’t vote, initially because I had too many other things on my mind, and then because by the time I got around to looking at absentee voting procedures it was too late anyway.  I wasn’t too enthusiastic about having another election, and I wasn’t expecting it to change much.  Boy was I wrong!  Not only did the Conservatives go from minority to majority government, but the Liberals got creamed, the map of Québec went from blue to orange, the N.D.P. is our new official opposition, and the Greens have their <em>first elected member of parliament</em>!  It’s probably the most interesting election we’ve had since 1993!  And unless you’re a Liberal or a Bloquiste there’s something to be happy about.  Although there’s arguably a lot to be <em>un</em>happy about too.  On the plus side it’ll be nice to have a stable government for a change.  But I may not like all the policies it decides to enact.  I guess we’ll wait and see on that one.</p><br /><p>In yet more news, Manitoba has been hit by serious flooding.  While this isn’t as bad as some of the natural disasters that have made the news this year, I’m still sorry to think that people in my home country are suffering, and I’m not keen on the way this year is continuing to suck.</p><br /><p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br /><p><em>Toy Story 2</em> – Surprisingly for a sequel, I liked this quite a bit better than its predecessor.  The characters have grown out of some of their more obnoxious characteristics.  The story is also better, and surprisingly adult (in a good way).  (Three and a half stars)</p><br /><p><em>Toy Story 3</em> – Not quite as good as the previous movie, but still a satisfying conclusion to the <em>Toy Story</em> trilogy.  I was once again surprised at the adult nature of the story, which perhaps made it more accessible to me.  My only complaints are that the villain feels weak and unnecessary, and there are too many twists in the last half hour.  (Three stars)</p><br /><p><em>How to Train Your Dragon</em> – A young boy from a tribe of dragon-killers befriends a dragon and learns how to fly it.  <em>Really</em> good idea for a story – which makes the poor execution all the more disappointing.  The animation is okay, and some of the bonding sequences are really fun to watch.  But the last part of the movie doesn’t make much sense.  And somebody needs to tell DreamWorks that obnoxious teenagers are obnoxious; apparently they haven’t heard.  (Two and a half stars)</p><br /><p><em>Whisper of the Heart</em> – A Studio Ghibli film not directed my Miyazaki.  The story is simple and sweet.  I did wish some parts had been fleshed out more, and that they’d shown more of the story the protagonist writes.  The ending is a bit laughable too, but over-all I enjoyed it.  (Three stars)</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-39172166725992704832011-11-18T21:50:00.001-08:002012-01-06T22:04:54.853-08:00Land of 1000 Aftershocks* - April 2011<p>The new school year has begun, meaning that many of our old students have graduated, and many new ones have arrived.  It has also meant the loss of many of our teachers.  In Japan (or at least in Sendai) teachers, especially newer ones, only stay at a school for a year or two before being rotated to somewhere different.  We’ve gotten around eight new teachers at my school, including one new English teacher.  He’s replacing the younger two English teachers, who have both left us.</p><br /><p>Although I’m sorry to lose the older students, I’m also excited about the new ones.  Many of them come from the elementary schools I visit, so I already know them by sight.  From the classes I had with them last year, I have reason to believe that they have a better English base and much more enthusiasm than last year’s first years did.  I’m hoping that will stand them in good stead as they begin their formal English education, although a part of me is also afraid that as soon their classes start, they will suck all the energy out of them and turn them into mindless, parroting robots.  I’m going to have to work hard to keep that from happening.  I hope the first-year English teacher takes me to his classes a lot.</p><br /><p>One Saturday the school had a demonstration day, where parents got to come in and observe their children in class.  It was my first time teaching in a month and a half, and it felt <em>really</em> good to be back.  I’m also starting to make elementary school visits again.  I’ve taken down my colour board, but I haven’t felt motivated enough to replace it with anything.  I’ve also started up my dance club again, although attendance is still really poor.  Towards the end of the month the teachers finally started bringing me to class again.  It’s nice to be back, although I’d forgotten how much I <em>hate</em> dictating.  Clearly none of my teachers had any pedagogical epiphanies over he holiday.</p><br /><p>Near the end of the month I went to my first ALT meeting since January.  With only a couple of exceptions it was my first time to see any of the other ALTs since the earthquake.  It was really nice to be able to see people again and reconnect.  Almost all the Sendai ALTs were there; many had stayed in the city, and of those who had left, all but two had returned.  We commiserated with each other a lot, made jokes, and gave feedback about earthquake preparedness.  After the meeting I went out to dinner with the ALT from Singapore and one from Australia.  We spent hours exchanging stories, hashing and re-hashing the earthquake and its aftermath.  It was like group therapy; it gave me a chance to vent a lot of the emotions that had been bottled up inside for weeks.  And I think it was also a bit of a bonding experience.</p><br /><p>Now that things are finally a bit more normal, I’ve been looking into opportunities for volunteering in the areas that were hit by the tsunami.  A lot of the ALTs who stayed went to help out in the weeks after the earthquake.  As I was isolated from the rest of the city, I didn’t join in these excursions, but now that it’s easier to get around, I’m thinking I should go and help out some.  After all, when natural disasters strike it usually happens in foreign countries, and the most one can do to help out is to donate money.  It’s not every day one finds oneself right there in the disaster area, able to provide hands-on assistance.</p><br /><p>So one morning I dragged myself out to the government office of one of the neighbouring wards.  I missed the morning volunteer call, but in the late morning I was able to join a group that was going to help at a retirement home.  It was my first time venturing into the tsunami hit area.  It was strange: at first glance it didn’t look that bad.  It was only gazing at the landscape for an extended period that I started to notice things: piles of trash lying by the side of the road; a boat sitting forlornly in a field; rusty cars piled awkwardly on top of one another.</p><br /><p>Our job at the retirement home was to clear away the rubbish that had washed up against the side of the building.  Most of it seemed to have come from the home itself.  It included clothing, furniture, electronic devices, food, photo albums, and everything else you would expect to find.  Everything got indiscriminatingly thrown into garbage bags and hauled out to the kerb, where it got piled up like an improvised barricade.  Occasionally we did find things that looked like they might have been salvageable: an unopened package of diapers, somebody’s glasses still in their case.  But as far as I could tell none of it got saved; the focus was on getting rid of as much stuff as possible quickly.</p><br /><p>I only worked for a couple of hours.  I didn’t arrive until around noon, and the volunteer services have fairly strict rules about volunteers finishing up by about 3:00.  There were a lot of us, though, so we did actually manage to get most of the rubbish cleared away.  Now that I know how to get to the volunteer centre, I guess I should go back there more.</p><br /><p>The weather has turned a bit more spring-like, which has done a lot to make me feel more cheerful.  Things still look pretty grey over-all, but the flowers are starting to bloom, and the colour is beginning to come back to the hills around my apartment.  The cherry blossoms around here haven’t been as ubiquitous or impressive as they were in Vancouver, but I did try to get out and enjoy them a little, including going to a park for a “hanami” (flower-viewing) picnic.</p><br /><p>I didn’t get a holiday for Easter, but I did have a pretty good Easter Sunday nonetheless.  The nice weather helped.  Even better, it was one of the first days in a long time that I managed to get through without feeling a single aftershock, a sign that the seismic situation is finally improving!  After church I went out to tea with the Australian ALT and then we took a walk down by the river and looked at the cherry blossoms.</p><br /><p>My Easter was also brightened by the receiving of several care packages.  In the weeks immediately after the earthquake my mom bought a lot of food and mailed it to me, in case the food situation here failed to improve.  Of course, logically, if Sendai was functional enough to receive post it should have been functional enough to keep its grocery stores stocked, but I appreciated the sentiment, anyway.  Some of the things I was genuinely glad of, like the powdered milk.  I already had some, and the grocery stores are stocking milk again anyway, but radiation tainted milk is one of the bigger health concerns right now, and as long as I have powdered stuff it seems safer to drink that.  She also sent thyroid pills to protect against radioactive iodine.  Again, I’m not overly worried about radiation poisoning, but as long as I have the pills I’ll stay on the safe side and take them.</p><br /><p>The best thing about the packages was the chocolate!  I got some from my mom, of course, but in a much nicer surprise I also got <em>two</em> boxes of chocolates from my aunt in England!  I shared one with my church and kept the other to eat myself.  It’s nice to know so many people care.</p><br /><p>In the news this month, Prince William of England has gotten married.  Perhaps it’s because of recent events here, but I find it hard to get excited.  I mean, I guess he and his wife will be king and queen in about forty years or so, but in the mean time I can’t say I care much.</p><br /><p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br /><p><em>The Street Lawyer</em> by John Grisham – A young lawyer leaves a promising career at a big firm to begin working with street people.  I liked the parts of the book that dealt with the character’s new job.  I would have preferred it if there had been more of that and less of the main plot.</p><br /><p><em>The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy</em> by Douglas Adams – I thought it would be good to read this book again, since I hadn’t actually done so since high school.  It was nice to refresh my memory of it and recall the (very few) ways in which it differs from other incarnations of the story.</p><br /><p>* “Land of 1000 Aftershocks”: That’s not an exaggeration, by the way.  According to the <a href="http://www.japanquakemap.com/" target="_blank">Japan Quake Map</a>, Japan actually experienced a thousand aftershocks between March 11 and mid-April, 2011.  That’s roughly thirty a day, or one every forty-eight minutes.  In fairness, most of those aftershocks were pretty small.  As a general rule, an earthquake has to be at least 5.0 or centred really close to you to be noticeable.</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-66769049452835995562011-11-04T23:49:00.001-07:002012-04-15T22:13:02.047-07:00Osaka - March-April 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg688kEByS51bLNNZbO6RpfeCDtzqryMkFYh-WSpvbyAHkPOwkNrD4vG_URDY9jILR-DaPL3PDUghnbVt1BF2-TKF0XsxIVXf4qlDZoWXLUM5TbUI7oBpQcC2xcYtY_5s2xqhbU1CbysMUo/s1600/IMG_0318.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671404481917462754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg688kEByS51bLNNZbO6RpfeCDtzqryMkFYh-WSpvbyAHkPOwkNrD4vG_URDY9jILR-DaPL3PDUghnbVt1BF2-TKF0XsxIVXf4qlDZoWXLUM5TbUI7oBpQcC2xcYtY_5s2xqhbU1CbysMUo/s200/IMG_0318.JPG" /></a><br /><p>My Japanese neighbours helped me plan my travel route from Sendai to Osaka. The airport had been shut down after the tsunami, so flying from Sendai was out of the question. The standard land route would have been to go south along the east coast of Honshu by bus and train. But that would have taken me through Fukushima and Tokyo, two places I felt better avoiding. Instead, we worked out the following route: a bus west from Sendai to Yamagata; another bus from Yamagata to Niigata, on the west coast; and then a train down the western side of Japan to Osaka. It would have been cheaper to fly from Yamagata straight to Osaka, but I preferred to save money, and was in no particular hurry.</p><br /><p>Although I had this broad plan set in my head, I hadn’t worked out any of the details. I had reserved my hostel room for Monday night, but I hadn’t reserved any transportation or layovers along the way. I wasn’t even sure how long the trip would take; I gave myself two days to get there, and hoped that I’d be able to find hotels along the way.</p><br /><p>On Saturday I took a bus to downtown Sendai and got the coach to Yamagata. It was only a one-hour journey, and I got there in the early afternoon. I’d intended to press on, but when I got there I was told that I couldn’t get a bus to Niigata until 8:00 the following morning. I bought a ticket, then went searching for somewhere I could spend the night. Fortunately there was a hotel right across from the bus station advertising cheap rooms, so I went in, asked about vacancies, and reserved a room for the night. So that was easy.</p><br /><p>In fact, now might be as good a time as any to say that the whole trip went a lot better than I had hoped for. Considering I had no knowledge of that part of the country, and almost no language skills, I found it surprisingly easy to get around. Everywhere I went I muddled through as best I could with my limited Japanese. When people spoke a little English they would use as much as they could to communicate, but when they didn’t, they were usually patient with me until I could make myself understood.</p><br /><p>I spent the afternoon walking around downtown Yamagata City, which was pleasant enough, but not very exciting. The next morning I got up early and got my bus to Niigata, then a train to Toyama. I got to Toyama in the middle of the afternoon. I could have pressed on all the way to Osaka, but as it was still Sunday, and my room was reserved for Monday, I thought I’d be better off spending the night. I went to the information centre at the station and they pointed me towards a reasonable hotel within walking distance. The hotel was supposed to cost around $45 per night, but when I was registering I filled in my address as Sendai. In response to that (or, at least, I <em>think</em> it was in response to that) the clerk pointed to a sign that I couldn’t read, said something about “jishin” (earthquake), and told me my room would only be $30. Although I can’t be sure, it seemed that the hotel had implemented a reduced rate for people from the earthquake-affected area, which I thought was really nice.</p><br /><p>It might have been nice to explore Toyama, but by the time I got checked in it was getting dark and had also started to rain. So I went out to dinner, walked around the block a couple of times, and then turned in.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhokAA7WXh10Ga80DL2nH3W5vfacxBj21G57Y0b_dmmQToz9oXD6tl39XXNTcGDnuKcxAVra60uVgL7-kD3bgNDPEjlg-UeV-DqW9GSuwP8mNg38_WO_V7cHYVoaAdQoZAjyiPyQuE7ww4j/s1600/IMG_0291.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671404069902695298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhokAA7WXh10Ga80DL2nH3W5vfacxBj21G57Y0b_dmmQToz9oXD6tl39XXNTcGDnuKcxAVra60uVgL7-kD3bgNDPEjlg-UeV-DqW9GSuwP8mNg38_WO_V7cHYVoaAdQoZAjyiPyQuE7ww4j/s200/IMG_0291.JPG" /></a><br /><p>It had been about four hours from Niigata to Toyama, and was roughly another four to get from Toyama to Osaka. As soon as I got there, I could see the difference being in a big city made. Signs everywhere were not only in English, but also in Korean and Chinese. I approached the information centre expecting one again to have to ask for what I wanted in Japanese, but they answered me in tolerable English and gave me an English map of the city. I took the subway down to the south end of the city, found my hostel, and checked in. It was only early afternoon, so I went for a walk to see what was in the area. I was quite close to Shitennoji Temple, an (apparently) famous temple in the southern part of the city, so I walked around there for a while. Then I went to a stall and bought some takoyaki (fried octopus balls), an Osaka specialty, for dinner.</p><br /><p>I didn’t have any particular plans for my stay in Osaka. I figured if I needed to I could get a flight out of the city, but I preferred to stay in Japan and save my money. I tried to get in contact with the other ALTs who had come to the city, but they didn’t get back to me, so I spent the entire week exploring on my own. Every day I went through my guide book, chose a different set of tourist attractions to aim for, and then tried to hit as many as I could.</p><br /><p>On Tuesday I visited Osaka Castle Park. Osaka Castle is quite pretty, and the museum inside is relatively interesting. The park looked like it would have been nice at a better time of year, but at the end of March the trees were only just starting to blossom, and things still looked dull and grey. I also went to the Peace Center while I was there, a museum that deals with the effects of World War II on Osaka, and with international conflict in general.</p><br /><p>I tried to visit some other museums, but they were all closed. In the end I wound up at Shin-Umeda City’s Floating Garden Observatory, which was not at all worth seeing. You pay $7.00 for a great view of the city, but the city is nothing to look at, and there was too much smog to see very far anyway. When I was done on the top floor, I went down to the food court in the basement. The food court is actually pretty interesting. It’s designed to look like an old-fashioned Japanese street where you can choose from various public houses to eat in. I went to an Okonomiyaki place, since that is the specialty of Osaka. I was able to choose my own ingredients, so I got to have a vegetarian meal.</p><br /><p>On Wednesday I went to the Osaka Aquarium, or “Kaiyukan”. Like all aquaria, it was swarming with elementary-school aged children, but apart from that it was relatively enjoyable, and almost worth the $20 admission. This one had capybaras, a whale shark, and a finless porpoise (a kind of dolphin with no dorsal fin). My favourite was the manta ray. At least, I think it was a manta ray. Whatever it was, it was breathtaking!</p><br /><p>After the aquarium I went to the Maritime Museum for a lesson on shipping and Japanese history. The museum building itself is actually kind of interesting. It’s a geodesic dome sitting in Osaka bay. The entrance is on the mainland, and you reach the museum by going downstairs and walking down an under-water tunnel to get to the main building. Inside is a collection of boats, models, and diagrams on the subject of Japanese seafaring. There’s even a life-size ship you can go and walk around. I thought it was pretty cool.</p><br /><p>On Thursday I went back to the museums I couldn’t get into on Tuesday. The Museum of History was pretty cool, with lots of interesting displays, dioramas, and even a reconstruction of an early twentieth-century street. It was rather discouragingly lacking in English signage, though. After that I went to the Museum of Housing and Living, which was <em>awesome</em>. It contains a reproduction of an Edo-era neighbourhood, where you can investigate different shops and dwellings, and even try on a kimono. My final stop of the day was at the Human Rights Museum, where I was able to amuse myself for half an hour or so learning about Japan’s attempts to integrate minorities into its society. There were no English signs there, but the people working there were almost painfully eager to help and explain things to me.</p><br /><p>On Friday I took my one excursion out of the city, to Himeji Castle. This castle looks quite beautiful in the pictures. Unfortunately, they are doing renovations on the main keep until 2015, so the whole building was shrouded in a great tent. We were still allowed to see the inside though, and as it was my first time seeing the genuine insides of a Japanese castle, I quite enjoyed it. We were also free to walk around the other buildings in the complex. At only $4.00 admission, it was a very worth-while visit – though I suppose I should factor in $30.00 for the return train ticket as well.</p><br /><p>On Saturday I visited the last two museums on my sight-seeing list: the Art Museum and the Science Museum. The Art Museum barely held my attention for half an hour, but the Science Museum was – well, come on, are science museums ever <em>not</em> interesting?! Admittedly it would have been more so if I could read more of the signs inside, but fortunately science is fairly universal, so I was able to understand most of it fairly easily.</p><br /><p>Having exhausted my list of potential tourist destinations, I spent Sunday taking it easy and enjoying the lack of aftershocks. As I hadn’t heard any word about Sendai being less safe than when I left it, I prepared to head home.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjaHXdxp41sLXxBkv97Fokaa05k_9k4ixBOrUvEjQLpNcW5YO7wH4zbqzcQVYtYm8A40FF0_2eX0E3F8XkSxXr-heVF3N7d7VO3g4Dfa6gFLWVstJvKz3LzLSIcvhyphenhyphenUDtxh1wwo438uPWA/s1600/IMG_0335.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671404594566457906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjaHXdxp41sLXxBkv97Fokaa05k_9k4ixBOrUvEjQLpNcW5YO7wH4zbqzcQVYtYm8A40FF0_2eX0E3F8XkSxXr-heVF3N7d7VO3g4Dfa6gFLWVstJvKz3LzLSIcvhyphenhyphenUDtxh1wwo438uPWA/s200/IMG_0335.JPG" /></a><br /><p>My return trip was a bit better planned than my trip there. On my way from Toyama to Osaka, I’d passed through Kanazawa, one of the cities I’d bookmarked in my travel guide months ago. As it was on my way home, I decided this would be the perfect opportunity to visit, so I got an early train there, then started looking around for a place I could spend the night. Once again, I found the people at the information counter very helpful. They suggested a cheap guest house just down the street, so I went there and checked in.</p><br /><p>As it was still late morning, I left my bag at the guest house and went out to explore the city. Kanazawa was lovely! The weather was great, for a start: a clear, sunny day. There was also a distinct absence of the smog that had hung over Osaka. As I walked down the street towards the sight-seeing district, I was struck by how many old-fashioned buildings there were. They gave the city a sense of character I hadn’t found in either Sendai or Osaka. Apparently the reason is that Kanazawa was spared most of the bombings that razed the other big cities during the war.</p><br /><p>I spent the first part of the afternoon wandering around Kanazawa Castle Park. The castle itself was only mildly interesting, given that I’d already been inside a couple of castles recently, but I wasn’t too concerned about doing anything exciting. Having been on power-tourist mode for the last week, it was nice just to be able to walk around enjoying the sunshine and clean air. When I was done there I went across the street to Kenrokuen Garden, and then to Oyama Jinja Shrine.</p><br /><p>For dinner I went to the Omi-cho Market area. Someone at the guest house had recommended sushi, so I went to a sushi place. Then I popped into a foreign food store, intending only to have a look around, but ending up loading up on stuff: powdered milk, cornmeal, vegetable stock, cookies. I wasn’t sure if the trains would be running again by the time I got back to Sendai, meaning that getting down town to the foreign food stores might be difficult, so I figured I should stock up.</p><br /><p>I took a long, sunset walk along the canal that finally took me back to the guest house, where I stayed the rest of the evening. The guest house was an old wooden kimono shop that had been renovated quite comfortably. The place reeked of atmosphere, rather like the city itself, and the owner, who spoke relatively good English, was friendly. I spent a long time talking to him about this and that. It was nice to have someone to talk to for a change, although it wasn’t until afterwards that it occurred to me that it was my first conversation with anyone in a week and a half.</p><br /><p>My stay in Kanazawa was the best part of my trip, and over much too soon. I left early on Tuesday morning and took the train back to Niigata. If I’d wanted to retrace my steps exactly, I would have gone from there to Yamagata and thence back to Sendai, but once I got there I realised I could much more easily get a coach directly home. The trip was just over four hours, and got me back to Sendai Station in the early evening. And I had a nice surprise waiting for me: the trains were running again!</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB1Tvp7gVgOhUMhN9XiU1cX-OELZ9kLVhv8Gic8yKMSP77R3EAq-BjSdpVRMimtfYFnNH6NfxLOyKrtvhlcqtwcfPoT0u_dw-Ral-5EbGORF6V4XfvVina2LNYl9hmzfAIiShJf_jmEazK/s1600/IMG_0406.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671404949905907602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB1Tvp7gVgOhUMhN9XiU1cX-OELZ9kLVhv8Gic8yKMSP77R3EAq-BjSdpVRMimtfYFnNH6NfxLOyKrtvhlcqtwcfPoT0u_dw-Ral-5EbGORF6V4XfvVina2LNYl9hmzfAIiShJf_jmEazK/s200/IMG_0406.JPG" /></a><br /><p>Things definitely look better in Sendai. The restaurants in my neighbourhood are open again, and the grocery stores are running more or less normally. After I arrived back, I unpacked my bag and put it away, and prepared to return to something like a normal routine. But we had at least one big aftershock still to come.</p><br /><p>On Thursday night, the last night of my holiday, I was lying in bed at 11:30, just drifting off into dreamland, when my apartment started rattling, and then rocking. It was the worst earthquake I’d experienced in almost four weeks, and while it didn’t last as long as the Big One, it felt every bit as strong. I didn’t move: of all the options available at that moment, I honestly thought the best one was to stay put, so I did. When the earthquake was over, I found that I’d lost electricity again, and also that my apartment was once again in a mess.</p><br /><p>As soon as it was over I jumped out of bed, grabbed a flashlight, and assessed the situation. I tried using my phone, but it didn’t seem to be working. With no power I had no internet access, and no way of getting information on the quake. I prepared for the worst. I refilled my bathtub with water. I pulled out my knapsack again, and started re-packing.</p><br /><p>That was the worst. Seriously. Of all the seismic events I’d had to endure in my stay in Japan, that one was the most traumatising. When the Big One struck, I hadn’t really known what was going on, and only came to understand over time the scale of the damage caused. But now, with the benefit of experience to feed it, my imagination immediately started conjuring up worst-case scenarios. In the middle of packing, I suddenly stopped and thought:</p><br /><p>“I bet there’s been another tsunami. More people are probably dead.”</p><br /><p>I told myself not to think about it, and went on with my work.</p><br /><p>Evidently the phone network wasn’t that badly damaged, because I eventually got through to one of the other ALTs. She was the one who had gone home to Singapore, and she had only returned <em>that day</em> to the city. “Welcome home,” I thought. We both agreed that this recent shake had done nothing to improve our morale, or make us feel better about being in Sendai. At least we were able to console each other a bit.</p><br /><p>I went to bed around 2:00 and was up three hours later to finish my packing. If the situation was as bad as I feared, then I was going back to school and I was jolly well going to stay there! I packed everything I thought I might possibly want, and lugged my bag up to the bus stop with me. If the bus came, I supposed it would be a sign that things really weren’t that bad, but I cared more about being safe than anything.</p><br /><p>The bus did come, and when I got to the school I found that it still had electricity and that everything was running normally. Apparently some places had lost electricity, but there hadn’t been much serious damage. There had been no second tsunami, and only a couple of people had died. It was business as usual. I felt a bit silly showing up there with a 70 L bag on my back. But not that silly.</p><br /><p>I spent a perfectly miserable day sitting at my desk, reading the news, and otherwise killing time. I was bored and sleep-deprived and fed <em>up to my teeth</em> with seismic events. At no point in the last month had I more ardently wished to be home. Not to <em>go</em> home; the idea of <em>going</em> home filled me with dread. Bus to Tokyo, wait in a foreign airport, thirteen-hour flight, transfer in Toronto, another hour to Ottawa, and then <em>customs</em>? And then to do it all again when I wanted to come back? It would have been excruciating! But if there was a way I could have <em>been</em> home, instantaneously, hugged my friends, enjoyed some home-cooking, and gone to bed knowing there would be no aftershocks to interrupt my sleep, I would have taken it in a heartbeat.</p><br /><p>As it was, I toughed it out and went home early. When I got there I found that my apartment had electricity again, so things were back to normal there too. I didn’t unpack my bag though, or drain my bathtub, and I left my shoes by my bed that night. We may have seen the last of the big earthquakes, but just in case we haven’t I’m going to stay prepared. I sure hope we have seen the last of them, though; I don’t know how many more I can handle.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmyUJpgJYbjXN6ukC3FOYbNxeOkRu17ZYZwTuzcLR_tpqzBwfkCpnOPWPkGsB0A4qBJa5OtILloI3NQKOjuTwhA-Yu4NXl1eGNmJT0lSof0Zbsx_1JaypQ6_ohuxHF3aGauVqCF4Urzft/s1600/IMG_0810.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmyUJpgJYbjXN6ukC3FOYbNxeOkRu17ZYZwTuzcLR_tpqzBwfkCpnOPWPkGsB0A4qBJa5OtILloI3NQKOjuTwhA-Yu4NXl1eGNmJT0lSof0Zbsx_1JaypQ6_ohuxHF3aGauVqCF4Urzft/s200/IMG_0810.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671407071399442802" /></a><br /><p>Books I've read this week:</p><br /><p><em>Shiokari Pass</em> by Miura Ayako – English translation of a Japanese novel. It was odd, for a change, to see Christians portrayed as the despised minority, but then Christianity has had a much different history in Japan than in North America. This book felt like it was really two stories put together. I liked the first part, but I found it difficult to reconcile the awkward young man we’re originally introduced to with the deeply spiritual character he turns into in the later chapters.</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-82428107826133794122011-09-30T03:54:00.001-07:002012-01-06T22:04:54.854-08:00The Big One - March 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzPpdrXuq1SblI_buBWdjcdtnvPS6dvmFt_LoGNlmNwDU7uuseFyV1K_miF-eKdF8ZD5lXpsI3rTljPASR8PzEAewvxwRKIz_p6jy1psQeSpEAyt6eGgTGDIZRNu2GboKQVVCHvMhEpEE/s1600/IMG_0276.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzPpdrXuq1SblI_buBWdjcdtnvPS6dvmFt_LoGNlmNwDU7uuseFyV1K_miF-eKdF8ZD5lXpsI3rTljPASR8PzEAewvxwRKIz_p6jy1psQeSpEAyt6eGgTGDIZRNu2GboKQVVCHvMhEpEE/s200/IMG_0276.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658106693687435314" /></a><br /><p>Is it just me, or does the news this year suck more than usual?  In just the first two months alone we’ve had flooding in Australia, a shooting in the United States, and an earthquake in New Zealand.  Plus riots are breaking out all over the middle east and things don’t seem to be getting any better in Haiti.  I know the news is rarely good, but somehow the number of bad stories this year seems disproportionately high.  Maybe it’s just that, for a change, I actually know people in many of the affected areas.</p><br /><p>And so we come to March.</p><br /><p>Near the beginning of the month one of my Japanese neighbours took me to the nearby town of Akiu for Hina Matsuri.  “Hina Matsuri” means “doll festival”, and I’m still not clear on exactly how it works, but evidently it involves a lot of dolls, usually dressed up in formal wedding clothes.  Most of the dolls we saw came in pairs, a boy and a girl, and they were all in different shapes and media: glass dolls, clay dolls, embroidered dolls, egg dolls, rabbit dolls, and rice-ball-shaped candle dolls.  After taking in these attractions we went to an onsen (hot spring) which is what Akiu is famous for.</p><br /><p>I debated for some time what to give up for Lent this year.  There was no way I was repeating last year’s experiment of fasting during daylight, and it would be difficult to give up meat or any of my traditional items while still eating school lunch.  Indeed, there hardly seemed to be <em>anything</em> I could give up that would allow me to continue eating school lunch.  Which led, almost inevitably, to my eventual resolution: give up school lunch!  And every other lunch too, of course.  The difficult part was explaining the decision to my school without causing offence.  After running the idea by my supervisors, I printed off the Japanese version of the Wikipedia article on Lent, highlighted the relevant passages, and showed it to one of my junior English teachers.  She explained the situation to my head teacher (who is really nice, but whom it is a pain to try an explain anything in English to), who in turn explained to my vice principal and my tea lady.  None of them had ever heard of Lent before, but once they understood what I was asking for, they were quite accepting.  So from the beginning of March I stopped eating lunch.  In retrospect, it proved to be a remarkably good choice.</p><br /><p>During the first part of the month I volunteered some time to help promote Sendai’s St. Baldrick’s Day event.  St. Baldrick’s Day is an international event to raise money for childhood cancer research.  Many people shave their heads bald, and it takes place the day after St. Patrick’s Day, hence the name.  Many of the Sendai ALTs are usually involved, and I agreed to help out too.  I’d already helped a little by participating in the December carolling group.  In March I started doing volunteer shifts handing out fliers in the Ichi-ban Chou.  It wasn’t much fun, standing around for long periods in the cold, holding out fliers and saying “onegaishimasu”* to people, only about ten percent of whom actually took them.  I was looking forward to the event, though.</p><br /><p>Of course, since it was scheduled for March 18, the event never happened.</p><br /><p>On Friday, March 11, at 2:46 p.m. I was sitting at my desk finishing up an especially dull day.  The school year was winding down and the students into exam preparation, so I’d had very little to do all week, and each day of boredom had been progressively more excruciating.  At 10:30 a.m. I was so restless I actually went and asked my tea lady if I could help her, and she put me to work cleaning the glass in the principal’s office.  That occupied me for an hour at most, and then I was back to being bored.  Around noon I made the shocking discovery that there is no such phoneme in the English language as “rh”, and there never has been.  (It might not seem like much, but what a thing to spend twenty-eight years of your life <em>not</em> knowing!)  And if that had been the most traumatic event of my day, the world would be a much happier place.  I actually thought of posting something on Facebook about it when I got home.  But as it turned out, I never went home that night.</p><br /><p>So, as I say, I was sitting at my desk, just thinking that in less than an hour I could leave, when the school started shaking.  Now, there’s nothing very unusual about that.  Japan does sit at the convergence of three tectonic plates, and earthquakes are a common occurrence.  Since arriving here I’d experienced dozens of tremors, but all of them had been small, and none had caused any damage.  Just that Wednesday we’d had one slightly bigger than usual, but it still meant nothing more than some rattling windows and cups.  I mentioned the earthquake bus we got to ride in during our Sendai orientation back in August, but we hadn’t experienced anything remotely like the shaking we got there.  Still, we’d been warned that Sendai was overdue for a large earthquake, and that the Big One might happen any day.  So we all knew it was just a matter of time.</p><br /><p>It started out like any other tremor: a little trembling, a little rattling.  But instead of settling down after a few seconds, it got stronger, and the room started to shake violently!  Here at last was something along the lines of what we’d experienced in August.  This was no minor tremor; this was an <em>earthquake</em>.  My vice principal ran to the communications panel with a worried look on her face.  I couldn’t understand what she was saying, and there were few other teachers in the staff room, so I didn’t have much of a lead to follow.  I’d never been told exactly what to do if caught by an earthquake at school, but I understood that the recommended course of action was to hide under something, so I got down on the floor and wedged myself as best I could under my desk.</p><br /><p>Once under there, I felt pretty safe.  Short of the roof caving in, it was hard to see how anything could hurt me under there.  Outside my tiny hideout I could hear rattling and then smashing noises as cups slid off tables and out of cabinets and broke.  Papers and books slid off desks and carpeted the floor.  From where I was I could see my V.P. still standing at the com’ unit.  “Nagai, desu ne!” she kept saying.  “It’s lasting so long!”  And it was.  I always thought earthquakes were only supposed to last a few seconds, but this one went on for minutes!  It felt like I was under my desk for at least a good two minutes, all the time wondering how much longer it could possibly last, and whether the school was built to withstand this kind of shaking.</p><br /><p>Finally the shaking died down.  My V.P. beckoned me out from under the desk and indicated that we had to get out of the school.  I made a perfunctory attempt to clean up some of the papers around my desk, but she yelled at me, “Ato de!”  “Later!”  So I grabbed my keys, retrieved my coat from my locker, and ran out onto the muddy field, still wearing my indoor shoes.</p><br /><p>All the students and teachers filed out of the school and assembled in the field.  The students got into their class groups and waited, standing or squatting in the mud, most of them without coats despite the chilly March weather.  Teachers were trying their cell phones and finding many useless; the networks seemed to be down, although some people could still access the internet.  One of the English teachers had internet, and I asked her what she had heard.  It seemed that this wasn’t just a local earthquake, but had been felt over a wide area.  I asked her where it was centred, and she said that we were quite close to the epicentre.  Well that’s good, I thought.  At least if it was strongest here, it can’t have been much worse anywhere else.  But she told me that the quake had spawned a tsunami, which had hit the eastern coast of Japan.  And then I asked the obvious question, the one we ask when we want to distinguish the minor occurrences from the major disasters.</p><br /><p>“Is anyone dead?”</p><br /><p>“Um, yeah.” she said.  “Yeah, I think maybe a lot of people are dead.”</p><br /><p>Oh.</p><br /><p>I was surprised by how shaken I felt.  The earthquake itself hadn’t felt so bad, but the growing uncertainty was beginning to make me nervous.  Moreover, the shaking had not completely stopped.  We kept feeling aftershocks of the original earthquake.  Every time it seemed that things had calmed down and we could go back inside, another one would set the ground trembling and the windows rattling again.  My tea lady came up to me and asked me whether I kept shoes by my bed at home.  I gave her a funny look and told her, no, I didn’t keep shoes in my bedroom.  She made a gesture of entreaty, and I suddenly got it: if there was another big earthquake during the night, I would want to have my shoes at hand.</p><br /><p>After about an hour, we finally went back inside.  We’d lost electricity.  I got my purse, which I’d stupidly left behind, and tried to use my cell phone, but I couldn’t reach anyone.  The English teacher with the smart phone offered to let me use it to check my e-mail.  I debated whether to send a letter home or not.  I didn’t know if the quake had been big enough to make the international news, and if it wasn’t, I didn’t want to worry my mom unnecessarily.  But if it <em>did</em> make the news, I didn’t want her to think something had happened to me.  So I sent her a short message letting her know I was alright.  In the days that followed I was extremely glad I’d done that.</p><br /><p>The students were sent home.  The teachers held a meeting.  The school was a designated refuge area, which meant that people who felt unsafe in their houses would be coming there.  Therefore some of the teachers would have to stay to help out.  About a third stayed; the rest started to leave.  My head teacher asked me what I wanted to do.  In the first couple of hours after the quake, I had thought there was nothing I wanted so much as to get home to my apartment.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realised what a bad plan that would be.  The blackout had affected most of the city, meaning that my place had almost certainly lost power.  I wouldn’t have light or heat; I might not even have gas or running water.  And it was still winter.  The thought of being alone in my dark, freezing apartment filled me with dread.  And what would happen after that?  With no phone service or internet I wouldn’t be able to contact anyone, and with no buses or trains it would be difficult to get anywhere.  Here at least I would be with people, people I knew.  I’d have access to food and heat and information.  And if anyone was looking for me, this was the logical place for them to do it.  So I told my head teacher I was staying.</p><br /><p>I have to hand it to Japan: the response to the emergency was wonderfully efficient.  Not long after it got dark, a truck arrived with supplies: blankets, portable toilets, bottles of water, packets of crackers, and “Alpha Mai”.  Alpha Mai is a kind of instant rice (just add hot water and leave to sit for an hour) with wakame (a kind of seaweed), which became the staple of my diet for the next week.   Kerosene heaters were brought out for warmth, flashlights for light, and battery-powered radios for information.  When families started to arrive, we made a place for them in the budōkan, the gym the students use to practise kendo.  We cooked the Alpha Mai and portioned it out to the refugees along with improvised miso soup.  Then we sat in the staff room, huddled around the heater, trying to keep warm.  We talked, or rather they talked, and I listened to people conversing in a language I didn’t understand.  Eventually, I went to sleep at my desk, stretched uncomfortably across three swivel chairs, and shivering despite my puffy coat and blankets.  The aftershocks continued through the night.</p><br /><p>In the morning someone arrived with a newspaper.  For the first time we were able to see images from the coast, images of houses and cars being swept away by the ocean.  The quake had measured 8.9 on the Richter scale (later upgraded to 9.0).  It had been the fifth largest earthquake in the last century.  The tsunami had also hit a nuclear power plant in Fukushima, and there were worries about an explosion.  Using the school phone I called one of my supervisors to let her know my status.  She thanked me, and gave me the names of the other ALTs who had reported in.  It was good to know which people were safe, but the list was far from complete.  Later that day the phone lost batteries.  So did my cell phone.</p><br /><p>I did what I could to amuse myself during the day.  I helped out as much as I could with cleaning and distributing supplies, but there wasn’t a lot of work to do, and always a glut of helping hands whenever something did need doing.  It didn’t help that I didn’t speak the language, and that there was only one English teacher on hand who could translate for me.  I offered to help a lot, and followed the crowd every time there was a burst of activity, desperately trying to act like a member of the staff, and not like a glorified refugee, which was how I felt.  In the quieter moments, I took advantage of the daylight to write some long-hand letters home.  Not that I expected to be able to mail them any time soon, but at least they allowed me to feel like I was keeping in touch.</p><br /><p>I had assumed that the aftershocks would die down after a while, but they didn’t so much cease as become chronic.  Throughout the weekend few hours went by without us feeling at least one, and often more.  Some of them were big enough to be frightening, especially when they woke me up in the middle of the night.  But none of them were truly serious or caused any more damage.  I quickly grew very good at detecting even small ones, although in my paranoia I may actually have been imagining them.  Several times I thought I felt the beginning of a tremor; then my pulse would quicken and I would sit very still, wondering if the vibrations I was feeling were truly the earth moving, or merely the pounding of my own heart.  For the first few hours, I was terrified at the idea of another big earthquake hitting us, but by Saturday afternoon my attitude towards the aftershocks had mostly turned into annoyance.  “Just <em>shut up</em>, already!” I would think, rolling my eyes and wondering how much more of this we would have to endure.</p><br /><p>If you want to know what earthquakes are like, it depends on the magnitude involved.  The mildest ones give you the kind of shaking you would expect from a train or large truck going past.  I learned to ignore those really quickly.  If you’re indoors, you primarily notice the rattling, but outside there are fewer cues, and what you mostly notice is the sensation of rising and falling, as though one were on the back of a giant turtle that had decided to go for a walk.  If you ignore the danger, those ones can be almost fun.  The very worst ones feel as though someone had actually grabbed the building and started shaking it like a box of dice.  At that point all you can do is to find a safe corner and pray that the roof holds.</p><br /><p>There were many moments when I felt I was on the verge of tears.  I didn’t panic when the earthquake first happened, because I didn’t understand what was going on.  As time went on and the uncertainty mounted, so did the stress.  I could feel it building up inside, and it seemed like it was only a matter of time before it broke forth in a flood of weeping.  But it never did.  Maybe in the end it wasn’t all that bad.  Or maybe I just never had the opportunity.  If anyone had offered me a hug during the whole time I was at the school, I could easily have collapsed sobbing against their shoulder.  But whether it was my own personal relationship with my co-workers, or a product of the famous Japanese reserve, no one ever did.  In fairness, I didn’t see them hugging each other either, so I don’t think it was anything personal against me.  But it’s hard to collapse against someone’s shoulder when there’s no shoulder to collapse against.</p><br /><p>I spent Saturday night much like Friday, except that this time I slept a bit more comfortably on the budōkan floor.  I awoke the next morning to discover that we’d lost water.  Fortunately the school had a cistern, so we would still be able to drink, but it was not an encouraging development.  My mind started flashing to the post-apocalyptic novels I’d read recently and wondering how long it would be until we all started eating each other.</p><br /><p>That day a co-worker offered me a ride to my apartment.  I’d resisted going home up to that point because I didn’t want to be stranded there on my own, but she promised me a ride back in the evening, so I accepted.  My flat looked like… well, it <em>looked</em> like it had been hit by an earthquake!  I don’t know what I was expecting.  To put it in slightly more accessible terms, it looked like the Tasmanian Devil had been through.  My desk, fridge, and table had moved from their usual positions; food had fallen off the shelves; dishes had fallen off the counter; papers that I’d carelessly left lying around were all over the floor; and my T.V. was sitting flat on its face.  For all the mess, though, things were actually not that bad.  I didn’t have electricity, but I did have gas and running water.  Very few things had actually broken.  I had lost a bowl, and soy sauce had spilled onto the floor, but most of my dishes were still intact, and the television screen had not been damaged in its fall.</p><br /><p>I had eight hours, and I made the most of them.  I started by cleaning – no! packing – no! scavenging, and by jumping repeatedly between several different tasks managed to turn the visit into a respectable salvage operation.  I reached into my closet and pulled out my 70 L back-pack – if I hadn’t bought it for just such a situation, I don’t know what I’d bought it for!  I filled it with everything I thought I could use: my pillow, blankets, candles, flashlights, toiletries, and feminine hygiene products (you <em>really</em> don’t want to be caught without those!).  I boiled enough water to give myself a sponge bath and wash my hair, a luxury I knew I might not be able to enjoy again for several days, and changed into some cleaner, more practical clothes.</p><br /><p>I went to the local grocery store and stood in line for an hour.  The queue was long, but organised; everyone seemed to be making the best of a bad situation.  The store had brought their goods outside and was rationing them out; everyone was allowed to buy only one or two of any given product.  Everything was priced with nice round numbers, generally below what they would normally have been.  The products available were mostly limited to dry staples: drinks, instant noodles, tissues.  I bought a couple of bottles of water and some toilet paper.</p><br /><p>Back home I gathered up all the extra food I thought I could reasonably carry: cookies, peanut butter, salted nuts, cornmeal, brown sugar, an unopened carton of milk.  Other teachers had been bringing food to the school to supplement our wakame rice and miso soup diet, and I thought I should do my part.  Knowing that the stuff in the fridge couldn’t keep forever, I even cooked up some macaroni and cheese and brought it back with me!</p><br /><p>Sunday night was the worst.  We still didn’t have electricity, and we’d lost water.  The aftershocks were still going strong.  But it wasn’t my own situation that worried me.  On the contrary, given the opportunity, I would have reassured my friends and family that I was fine, that I was safe and well-fed, and convinced that things would only get better.  But I had no way to reassure my family or friends.  I was glad I’d at least sent that e-mail to my mom, but I couldn’t be sure she’d received it.  And even if she had, what sorts of images must she be seeing on the international news?  What scenes of devastation and death must people be associating with the place I lived?  “I’m okay,” I wanted to say.  “It’s fine, really.  Don’t worry about me!”  But I couldn’t.  Sunday night.  That meant Sunday morning in Canada.  My mom would be in church.  They’d be talking about me, and probably saying prayers for the country.  And here I was, miles away, sitting in the dark with people I couldn’t talk to.  I thought about how worried everyone must be, and I felt terrible.</p><br /><p>Monday morning the situation had not changed.  Someone started running a petrol generator, and teachers were using it to charge their phones.  My charger had been one of the things I’d picked up at my apartment, so I plugged it in, hoping that the networks might be working again.  It occurred to me that my church wasn’t so very far away from the school; I could probably walk there in under an hour.  It would give me a chance to get news on people, and goodness knew I had nothing better to do with my time.  I ran the idea past my head teacher, and she told me that because of the situation with the reactor, there were warnings about black rain that day.  Forget that!, I thought.  Radioactive precipitation really didn’t feel like the thing to brighten my day.  Feeling restless and frustrated, I spent my morning sweeping out one of the school entrances, into which a huge amount of mud had been tracked.</p><br /><p>Around noon, I was sitting at my desk starting work on another letter, when suddenly the lights went on and we started hearing the hum of idling machines.  We had electricity back!!!  We jumped up and down, laughing for joy.  Then I remembered my cell phone, which by that time was charged.  I turned it on, then stood looking at it for a moment, wondering whom I should call first.  My supervisor?  One of the other ALTs?  My church?  Or… hang on a minute…</p><br /><p>I called home.</p><br /><p>I don’t think I'd ever been happier to hear my mom’s voice, and I’m sure she was never happier to hear mine.  I reassured her that I was fine, and gave her a rundown of my situation.  I’d expected to start crying, but instead questions poured out of me.  She told me that she had indeed gotten my e-mail, as well as fourth-hand confirmation that I was alright, so at least she hadn’t worried <em>too</em> much.  She’d also been in touch with most of my friends and family, so they also knew I was okay.  We talked for over an hour.</p><br /><p>When I finally hung up, I started calling everyone else I could think of.  One ALT I got in touch with told me that <em>all</em> the ALTs in the city had been confirmed safe, so that was a relief.  I also called my church and got confirmation that all the members I knew were also fine.  Once we got the internet working again, I sent e-mails to everyone I could think of who might be wondering about me.  I went on Facebook, and though a firewall prevented me from posting anything, I was at least able to check up on people I knew.  I’d never been a fan of Facebook before, but I have to admit it was a wonderful tool for getting and disseminating information during the crisis.  It turns out that no one I knew was seriously hurt by the disaster; even my acquaintance from Fukushima was alright, though she had been forced to evacuate.</p><br /><p>I stayed at school for a total of six days, eating rice twice a day, supplemented with whatever food got donated to us, sleeping in the budōkan, and helping out whenever possible.  I checked up on the other ALTs as much as I could.  Many of them were feeling scared and uncertain, and most people had concerns about the situation at the reactor, which still wasn’t under control.  Our supervisors explained repeatedly that there was no danger, no chance of the reactor China-syndroming on us.  This was reassuring to an extent, but I couldn’t help feeling that our supervisors had a vested interest in encouraging us to stay.  Besides, their explanations all depended on the reactors behaving in a predictable fashion, but it was the <em>un</em>predictable situation that scared me.  ALTs with more access to transportation started talking about evacuating.  Over the next week a lot of them would get out of the city and either go home or take refuge in other parts of Japan.  I didn’t really consider that an option, though.  On the one hand, my apartment and school are both way out in the north-west corner of the city, which had suffered much less damage than places nearer the coast.  On the other hand, getting around was quite difficult.  Petrol was in short supply, which meant the buses were only running on a very limited basis.  Damage to Sendai Station had stopped both the local and the bullet trains.  And the tsunami had taken out Sendai Airport, so there was no getting a flight out of the city.  In other words, I didn’t feel much need to leave, and even if I’d wanted to, doing so would have been complicated.  I felt it would be better to wait out the situation and make the best of it.  I did start considering my getaway options, though, just in case.  And on my dad’s suggestion I quickly registered with the Canadian Consulate, something I’d neglected to do theretofore.</p><br /><p>I talked to some of the other teachers, and they agreed to unlock the library so we could get inside and have a look at it.  I’d expected a war zone, and was shocked to see everything in comparatively good condition.  A few books had fallen over or tumbled onto the floor, but most of them were still sitting neatly on their shelves.  It seemed impossible that they could have stayed that way through the big earthquake, but I couldn’t imagine who would have gone into the library and put <em>all</em> the books back <em>exactly</em> where they belonged in the past few days.  It was a mystery or a miracle, I guess.  We cleaned up what mess there was.  I liberated the Japanese translation of Book VI of <em>The Lord of the Rings</em> (oddly the only one of the six books the library had), and a colleague handed me a stack of Sazae-san comics which were in Japanese and English, so I had reading material.</p><br /><p>A day or two after I talked to my mom, I got a call from a reporter in Ottawa who was doing a story on the disaster.  I answered his questions as best I could, though I didn’t really feel qualified to talk about the situation.  I was pretty isolated from what was going on, and reading the same information on the internet as everyone else.  Soon after, my mom sent me the link to the story he had written.  It was weird seeing myself in print; I’d never been the subject of a news story before, and I didn’t think I liked it.  Although I couldn’t find anything in it that was inaccurate per se, I felt there was a disconnect between the intent behind my words, and how they got interpreted in the text.  I kept thinking, “Did I say that?  Really?!”</p><br /><p>As you may imagine, the situation got me interacting with my co-workers in new ways.  Even when you don’t speak the same language as someone, there’s a certain camaraderie that comes out of eating together, cleaning together, or standing around making rice balls together.  I stretched my limited Japanese skills as much as I could in order to communicate.  I wouldn’t say my Japanese got better while I was there, but I definitely got good speaking practice.  And I did add a couple of new expressions to my vocabulary.  One of these was “jishin”.  It means “earthquake”.  I picked that one up quickly.  The other was “Ki o tsukete,” which means “Take care.”  That became my standard parting salutation during the crisis.  Some of my co-workers also made an effort to talk to me.  I was surprised to discover that people I’d barely spoken to before the earthquake did in fact speak a little English, and were willing to use what they had to communicate.</p><br /><p>On Thursday morning, another co-worker offered me a ride home for the weekend.  I called my neighbours, and ascertained that gas and water were still functioning in my area, and that electricity seemed to be back too.  Now that the phones were working again, I didn’t feel so isolated, and I wanted to begin putting my life back together, so I accepted.  I packed up all my things and left with the promise of a ride back the following week.</p><br /><p>My flat did indeed have electricity back, and as I’d never lost water or gas, it was actually a pretty pleasant place to be.  At any rate, it was nice to sleep in my bed again.  As it was a long weekend, I stayed there for five days, cleaning up the mess and enjoying having internet without firewalls.  I re-packed my bag with everything I thought I might need in an emergency, filled my bathtub with water, and put my shoes and a flashlight next to my bed so I’d be ready for anything.  The trains were still down, so it was hard to get into downtown Sendai.  Fortunately I still had some food at home, and I was able to go shopping and buy a little more.  Most of the restaurants and convenience stores in my area were closed, but the grocery stores were still opening on a limited basis.  They no longer had long line-ups outside, but were allowing people inside to choose from the limited selection of items they were selling.  It was hard to tell whether their goods were being replenished or they were still rationing off what they’d had when the earthquake hit.  The tsunami having taken out the ports, a lot of shipments had probably been stopped, but they may have been getting stuff in by truck.  They had some produce, but perishables in general were short, and there was no milk.  It felt a bit like living through one of the World Wars – or at least as I imagine living through a World War must have been like.  There was the same sense of privation and of worry about a situation we knew could still get worse.  But there was also the sense of making the best of things, and learning to do without.  I spent the week living on white rice, miso soup, and cereal with water.  Yuck!</p><br /><p>I spent some time with my neighbours, glad to be able to reconnect with people.  I went over for dinner one night at my ALT neighbour’s place, and another night at my Japanese neighbour’s.  She was super earthquake-prepared, and told me to go to her any time I felt unsafe or in need of company, an offer I really appreciated.  On Sunday I went to my church, which had also become a refuge area.  The American English teacher who worked there had been sent home, but most of the others I knew were there.  The Japanese seminary student had even brought her family from Fukushima to stay there.</p><br /><p>I started getting calls from the Canadian Consulate about evacuation plans.  Few countries were doing organised evacuations in the days immediately following the earthquake, but as the week wore on, various embassies began to arrange buses and flights for their citizens, and eventually Canada jumped on the bandwagon.  As I’ve already said, I didn’t feel particularly unsafe, but at least now evacuating was an option for me, and one I had to seriously consider.  My mom urged me to get out of the city.  One of my closest ALT acquaintances took her embassy’s bus and went home to Singapore.  Some of the Canadians were sticking around, but others had fled to places like Osaka or Taiwan.  Although the danger seemed minimal, it did seem like it would be only prudent to avoid it as much as possible.  And although my cardboard box of an apartment had held up so far, I couldn’t help wondering at times how many little earthquakes it would take to do it the damage of one big one.</p><br /><p>That weekend was the worst.  Every time I got a call about a bus, I politely told them I wouldn’t be on it, but I was constantly second-guessing myself.  On Friday I was told that the last bus would leave the following morning.  I again declined the offer, knowing intellectually that it might be my last chance, but not really wanting to believe it.  I debated with myself all the rest of the day about it.  I was angry with the Canadian Consulate for not making the situation clearer.  When I asked naïvely if this was an “official” evacuation order, they told me it was as “official” as it was going to get.  In other words, they couldn’t tell us whether to leave or not, only give us the option to do so.  Having that option was all very well, but it begged the question, was there any actual danger?  Were they sending buses because they thought we <em>needed</em> buses, or because the Americans had sent them first?  And what if the situation really did get bad?  What if radiation actually made its way from Fukushima all the way to Sendai?  Were they going to send more buses <em>then</em>?  Were they going to be there when I actually <em>was</em> in fear for my life, and <em>wanted</em> to escape?</p><br /><p>On the one hand, the risk of staying seemed minimal.  I was nowhere near the ocean, so I wasn’t going to get hit by a tsunami, which was what had caused most of the damage in the first place.  We were unlikely to get hit by another big earthquake, and given how well my area had withstood the first one, I thought it would probably survive a second one too.  We were a hundred kilometres away from Fukushima, with no indication of increased radiation levels here.  And if things did get bad, there were always other options for getting out.</p><br /><p>On the other hand, even if the risk was minimal, why take it at all?  Why make my family worry unnecessarily, or stick it out in a disaster area when I could be safe and sound at home?  This was a time for caution and prudence, not for stoicism or machismo.</p><br /><p>In the end, the thing that tipped the balance was remembering why I’d come to Japan.  I came here because I wanted to break out of my routine, to broaden my experience, to challenge myself.  In short, I came to have an adventure.  And adventures aren’t always fun.  Tolkien described them as “nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things”, and living through the aftermath of an earthquake had been nothing if not disturbing and uncomfortable.  I’m not saying one should seek out discomfort, and if I’d seriously believed that my life was in danger, then of course I would have left.  But given that I was relatively safe – as I believed I was – then it was stupid to run away as soon as life got interesting.  And anyway, one doesn’t go home in the middle of an adventure.</p><br /><p>All the same, I began to think that it might be a nice time to plan a vacation.  Spring break was coming up.  I had intended to work through the holiday but natural disasters have a way of disrupting one’s plans.  Tokyo had been hit by the earthquake; instead, I settled on Osaka.  It would be an interesting vacation spot.  I knew some of the Canadian ALTs were there.  And if I had to, I could get a flight out of the country.  I used the internet to find a cheap hostel and book a room for a week.  One of the things I love about Japan is that few things require credit cards, so making the reservation was quite easy.</p><br /><p>On Tuesday, the last week of the school year began.  The petrol situation was starting to get better, but there still weren’t buses to my school, so a co-worker gave me a ride to work.  I actually packed my back pack full of stuff, intending to stay at the school for the rest of the week, but she was able to give me a ride home in the evening and every other day of the week.  The school had water again, so things had kind of returned to normal.</p><br /><p>On Wednesday we finally held the graduation ceremony that had originally been scheduled for March 12.  As I still had nothing to do, I spent an extremely dull rest of the week sitting at my desk reading the news.  Every so often there’d be another aftershock, often accompanied by someone’s phone alarm going off.  Or a phone alarm that would go off without the company of an aftershock.  Over the course of two weeks I grew to know and loathe those phone alarms.  I could never see the point of them.  If you’re in an earthquake, the last thing you need is an alarm to <em>tell</em> you you’re in an earthquake.  And if you’re not in an earthquake, then an electronic voice “fweep-fweep”-ing at you is just going to cause unnecessary stress, and we’d all had enough of <em>that</em>, thank you.</p><br /><p>I requested nine days of paid leave, almost half my yearly allowance.  I informed everyone of my travel plans.  Then on Friday afternoon I said goodbye to those co-workers that were still hanging around, and went home to prepare for my trip.</p><br /><p>In the news this month, Japan got hit by an earthquake.  Now, whom do I know in Japan …?</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzhNmVJWT89g1dM-rCAUj-urbagSToBEu02TrAO3GM2G-j1lDtp3eqauhIFQJUqByZxqqVX0jHcL3zQImr5-n2SUEXxjTcQYUfZabfAkRCHGJcWh2PhEPv3zkuOPBwfEiwvpw033UNvDQ/s1600/IMG_0079.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzhNmVJWT89g1dM-rCAUj-urbagSToBEu02TrAO3GM2G-j1lDtp3eqauhIFQJUqByZxqqVX0jHcL3zQImr5-n2SUEXxjTcQYUfZabfAkRCHGJcWh2PhEPv3zkuOPBwfEiwvpw033UNvDQ/s200/IMG_0079.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658104836437984898" /></a><br /><p>Movies I’ve seen this month:</p><br /><p><em>Kick-Ass</em> – Seriously messed-up movie about a whiny teenager who decides to become a superhero and a little girl whose father raises her to be a professional killer.  Nicholas Cage is delightfully hammy in places, but otherwise I thought this movie was a bad combination of annoyingly goofy and really disturbing.  (Two stars)</p><br /><p>Books I’ve read this month:</p><br /><p><em>The Lord of the Rings</em> by J. R. R. Tolkien – A few months ago I was feeling depressed and homesick, and decided it would be a good idea to read a book about a guy who goes on a journey, gets stabbed, stung, maimed, and soul-raped, comes back home traumatised to find that everything’s changed and no one appreciates him, and ends up saying goodbye to all his friends and travelling to a distant land beyond the Western ocean from which he will never return.  What was I thinking?</p><br /><p>All the same, I’m glad I took this opportunity to re-read <em>The Lord of the Rings</em>.  I thought for sure it would take me the better part of half a year, but I’m actually quite pleased with myself: I read the whole thing, appendices and all, in just over six weeks.  Having not read it in ten years, I was due.  This was also my first time to read the book since the release of the movies, and having gotten the film-version of events fairly deeply ingrained in my head, I was glad finally to go back and re-discover the source material.</p><br /><p>Book 1: I always liked the little side adventures in this book, and while it’s understandable that they were cut from the movies, it was nice to re-read them.  I realised I’d forgotten a lot about this book, including most of Chapter 3, and how creepy the Ring Wraiths are.  My favourite part is the scene on the Barrow-downs.  One complaint, though, is that all the characters seem flat.  I got to the end of the book and I still didn’t have a strong sense of who Frodo was or care much about him – not a situation one wants for a protagonist.</p><br /><p>Book 2: There are some great sequences in this book that didn’t translate well onto film, including the Council of Elrond, the stay in Lothlórien, and the wonderfully creepy way in which Tolkien re-introduces Gollum.  There were even some moments I’d completely forgotten about, like the vision at Amon Hen.  Frodo gets some character development, so that by the end of the book I liked him a lot better.  And this may seem like a strange thing to say, but I’d forgotten how utterly loveable Sam is!</p><br /><p>Book 3: This is without question my least favourite of the six books.  Although I question some of the choices made in the film version, I think it does a much better job of handling the characters and plot.  The one element that is much better in the book, though, is Treebeard and the Ents, who actually come off as wise and thoughtful, rather than just comical and stupid.</p><br /><p>Book 4: At the end of Book 3 I was beginning to have my doubts about whether the novel was really better than the movies, but this book turned me around.  I’d forgotten how much Sam got to do, and how much depth and character development Tolkien gives him.  Re-reading some of his scenes I felt that the films missed out on some of the greatest moments of the story.  Sure, the fight with the giant spider works better on film, but “The Choices of Master Samwise” is a beautiful sequence, and I’m really sad it got cut.  Also, although Gollum of the movie is a remarkable creation, I quite like the literary version too.</p><br /><p>Book 5: I liked this book better than Book 3, though, sadly, I will never be able to love book-Pippin the way I love movie-Pippin.  Most of the action sequences also, obviously, work better on film.  The one exception is Eowyn’s confrontation with the Witch King, which is much better in the book, but that’s because the scene is mostly dialogue-driven.</p><br /><p>Book 6: There are a lot more great scenes involving Sam that got cut out of the films and that I’d consequently forgotten about.  Does it seem like I’m harping on Sam?  Well, it’s because he’s always been my favourite character in the novel – and now I finally remember why!  I love the failings that Tolkien gives him, and the cheerful pessimism with which he and Frodo pursue the last leg of their quest.  I also quite enjoyed “The Scouring of the Shire”, and, of course, I wanted to cry at the end.</p><br /><p>Standing the book and the movies side by side my feelings are mixed.  In some cases, I was actually surprised by the similarities, such as the number of famous lines from the films that were actually taken from the book.  And there were many instances where I liked the film version better.  As a broad generalisation, I’d say that the book has a better story, while the movie has better characters.  But there are some notable exceptions to that: the story of Theoden and his family is better developed in the movies, while some major characters come of better in the book, notably Treebeard and Sam.  A safer generalisation would be that the movies have better action sequences, while the book has better writing.  Tolkien writes a very good story, and takes great pains to set it up well and make it internally consistent.  I like the way he uses humour to engage his reader.  I also enjoyed the creepier moments of the story.  Most of all, I think the book contains some profound moments that never made it into the movies.  Coming back to them again after so many years it felt like I was discovering them for the first time, and they made me realise why the book will always be superior to the film version.</p><br /><p>And I’ll always have a soft spot for Sam Gamgee now, because he kept me company after the earthquake.</p><br /><p>* “onegaishimasu.”: Japanese for “please”.</p>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286299725044493586.post-46409257279662220702011-09-04T02:34:00.001-07:002012-02-28T02:43:36.466-08:00Winter Wonderland - February 2011<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJUleH7ZEL6WuIEECjsxXwD4aFOpy6VGkVKhxc5i7vL-MwotwRpOzTMjUYn8uUoroZdQ_URbOMcMto6mcCWC70-sJlVR0pAU-nSMW87KZPu0duwu7RXXIkRulwKhwKyML5IBnlQGluj2L/s1600/IMG_0017.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648436164189022578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJUleH7ZEL6WuIEECjsxXwD4aFOpy6VGkVKhxc5i7vL-MwotwRpOzTMjUYn8uUoroZdQ_URbOMcMto6mcCWC70-sJlVR0pAU-nSMW87KZPu0duwu7RXXIkRulwKhwKyML5IBnlQGluj2L/s200/IMG_0017.JPG" /></a>
<br /><p>Since arriving in Sendai, I’d been looking forward to the famed ALT Yuki Matsuri trip. Yuki Matsuri (literally “snow festival”) is an event kind of like Winterlude that is held every February in Sapporo. Every year a group of ALTs go to Sapporo together to see the festival, and this year I was part of that group. We had a holiday and also took a few vacation days for an extra-long weekend. On Wednesday evening we took the ferry from Sendai to Hokkaido. I wasn’t a fan of the trip, which saved us money but also made me boat sick. We landed on Thursday morning and were checked into our hostel by early afternoon.</p>
<br /><p>The hostel was relatively nice for a cheap place. I shared a large tatami room with seven other people, where we slept on futons on the floor. The only downside was the showers; they didn’t have individual shower stalls, just one large public bath each for the men and the women. Excuse me if showering in front of total strangers isn’t my preferred way to start the day! I locked myself into the room on the second day so I could have it all to myself, but as that didn’t seem like a good long-term policy, I washed my hair in the sink and otherwise did without for the rest of my stay.</p>
<br /><p>Before the trip, it had occurred to me that I’d probably want to take pictures, and to that end I went out and bought myself a new camera. Up to now I’ve been taking pictures with my video camera, which isn’t very good, but now I should be able to take proper, nice-looking ones. The camera I found is a bit bigger than I’d like, but it has really good zoom and resolution, plus all the manual features I like, so I think it was a good purchase.</p>
<br /><p>It’s a good thing I got it, too, because Sapporo was gorgeous! We had great weather almost the whole time I was there. In Sendai I’d gotten to experience the wussy pathetic snow that falls, blankets everything for a day or two, and then melts again. In Sapporo I was reminded what a <em>real</em> winter is like. The streets were lined with four-foot snow banks – the neatest ones I’ve ever seen in my life! The weather hovered around the –10 °C mark, but it wasn’t the wet, miserable kind of cold that sinks into your bones and won’t let you stop shivering. It was the crisp, dry cold that makes you feel invigorated. We had bright, sunny days with clear blue skies, punctuated with just enough snowy patches to keep everything looking fresh and white.</p>
<br /><p>It felt like home.</p>
<br /><p>On our first night, we went for dinner at the Sapporo Beer Factory. Dinner was yaki-niku (“grilled meat”) tabehodai (“all you can eat”). We grilled lamb with vegetables on Hokkaido-shaped skillets. We were all warned before going that the stink of lamb would get into our clothes and stay there for a week, which is true, but it was worth it for the dinner. Besides, as I realised when I once again found myself taken aback at seeing people light up in a restaurant, the stink of lamb is nothing compared to the stink of cigarettes. I left early. During the meal it had started to snow, meaning that everything outside was looking particularly lovely. I laughed when I arrived at the restaurant to see a Christmas tree standing out front, but the effect it created with the new-fallen snow was truly magical. As I walked back to the hostel alone, I was overcome with the beauty around me, and it was all I could do to restrain myself from skipping down the street. Okay, I admit it: there were a couple of moments where I <em>didn’t</em> restrain myself!</p>
<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iNpr5g8RYYtx26kGvkivLbmz3CLE8u6WlVP2nqxnMgz8ems8v8srwHame7j9lMDn9eBDVQSJBTcuHgXpev8mGjm5Zv__pn_B2Xgth8raAKsAMxO6CqR8OPF2tEE_avHnr_NfbpAr0ewR/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648436808783800722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iNpr5g8RYYtx26kGvkivLbmz3CLE8u6WlVP2nqxnMgz8ems8v8srwHame7j9lMDn9eBDVQSJBTcuHgXpev8mGjm5Zv__pn_B2Xgth8raAKsAMxO6CqR8OPF2tEE_avHnr_NfbpAr0ewR/s200/IMG_0025.JPG" /></a>
<br /><p>I got up early the next morning and went to see the festival. It was a lovely clear day, and as we were relatively close to the festival site, I decided to walk. On my way there I stopped in at the former Hokkaido Government Office Building. Built in a western style and nicknamed “Red Brick”, this building has a garden outside and an exhibit inside, both free to the public. Eventually I made it down to Odori Park, where the festival was. Odori Park consists of a string of city blocks running east-west through downtown Sapporo. Think of a smaller version of the Mall in Washington D.C., and you’ll have the basic idea. The whole of this park was taken up with the festival.</p>
<br /><p>First I met up with an ALT from Fukushima who had been part of the group that left Ottawa with me. We hadn’t seen each other since Tokyo orientation, and it was nice to reconnect. We spent the afternoon walking around the park. There were lots of snow sculptures, some of them <em>really</em> impressive. There was also ski-jumping, and of course the usual selection of fast food and souvenirs for sale. In the evening we went down to the Nakajima area to see the ice carvings. They were nice too, but not nearly as impressive as the snow sculptures. Although it pains me to say it, I had to admit that Yuki Matsuri is about five times cooler than Winterlude! The only things missing were Canal skating and beavertails, but everything else was awesome!</p>
<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQy3lgcJz5YofqCGU56TJ9qjE-sGxQv-8XtcoSqtyv5OeZML-63VfeNKy9b56XB_dYWqHeYKUqPid1aTuS3FWxXP323_TfXhYNMqpiuoqQPkkOeg0o0i4vOLdKA64dp8vx1ED1ZSMoRPHd/s1600/IMG_0149.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648437021492113330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQy3lgcJz5YofqCGU56TJ9qjE-sGxQv-8XtcoSqtyv5OeZML-63VfeNKy9b56XB_dYWqHeYKUqPid1aTuS3FWxXP323_TfXhYNMqpiuoqQPkkOeg0o0i4vOLdKA64dp8vx1ED1ZSMoRPHd/s200/IMG_0149.JPG" /></a>
<br /><p>On Saturday I visited the Historical Village of Hokkaido. This is a large outdoor park where a selection of old buildings have been gathered together. Many of these are comparatively modern buildings in a western style, or combining western and Japanese elements. Hokkaido was only recently colonised by the Japanese, and when it was, a lot of North American experts were brought in with building and farming techniques suited to its boreal climate. That’s part of the reason downtown Sapporo looks so much more North American than other Japanese cities. I spent several hours wandering around, gravitating towards the more traditional and rural buildings. Highlights for me were an old school house, a fishing house, and various family residences.</p>
<br /><p>My ticket to the village also got me admission to the neighbouring Historical Museum of Hokkaido, so when I was done I spent an hour or so there, learning about Hokkaido history. In the evening I went back to Odori Park to see the snow sculptures by night. Many of them looked even better than they had by daylight, and I took lots of pictures of sculptures I’d photographed the day before. For dinner I ate festival food, including a crab and some of Hokkaido’s famous potatoes (which weren’t as good as Yukon gold, unfortunately).</p>
<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7tAauGIws0w5-XeaFii5mus-SkgjcBAL_OgWtJPB_SHHijWk1VgJ7MpfHsGwrp1O3dIBPmnTd55h2k3bGAEjv-mjAwwb2VaRmzpwgCllXgwAQda6PY7cdEOBQmjN9OBcPcU4e81yjtNo/s1600/IMG_0191.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648437178965985762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7tAauGIws0w5-XeaFii5mus-SkgjcBAL_OgWtJPB_SHHijWk1VgJ7MpfHsGwrp1O3dIBPmnTd55h2k3bGAEjv-mjAwwb2VaRmzpwgCllXgwAQda6PY7cdEOBQmjN9OBcPcU4e81yjtNo/s200/IMG_0191.JPG" /></a>
<br /><p>Having accomplished my main sight-seeing goals, I filled up my Sunday with sights of secondary interest. First I went to Shiroi Koibito Park. Shiroi Koibito (literally, “white lovers”) is a white chocolate cookie for which Sapporo is famous, and the park contains a factory-cum-museum where they are made. The place is wonderfully kitschy, from its mock-Tudor façade, to the “passports” they hand out at the door, to the fountain in the entrance. The chocolate factory aspect is not in itself particularly interesting. Shiroi Koibito are basically second-rate cookies glued together with second-rate white chocolate, nothing to get excited about. But the museum was worth it for its collections of antique hot chocolate cups, gramophones, and even vintage toys! If you’re ever travelling in Sapporo with children, this would definitely be the place to take them!</p>
<br /><p>After the chocolate factory, I paid short visit to the Chitosetsuru Sake Museum (really just a sake shop with a collection of cups and decanters) and the Sapporo Clock Tower. For dinner I went to a convenience store for yakitori, a Sapporo specialty my tea lady told me I <em>had</em> to try while I was there. “Yakitori” literally means “grilled bird”, and is usually chicken, but Sapporo yakitori is pork. It was pretty good.</p>
<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqZjCEyStMMwfFHj6yw_gc-Ubxg4upguFFmWdJCxwXc97c4yBVnNm91GyeLBPqw4I43p5c3E4q5FbDBS1uKxBrxsbuHYALC9IdzvV-0Yac3oqJXNRr6f7vncnXgFEglY-7-5eniJ_IRp1/s1600/IMG_0241.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648437479204850914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqZjCEyStMMwfFHj6yw_gc-Ubxg4upguFFmWdJCxwXc97c4yBVnNm91GyeLBPqw4I43p5c3E4q5FbDBS1uKxBrxsbuHYALC9IdzvV-0Yac3oqJXNRr6f7vncnXgFEglY-7-5eniJ_IRp1/s200/IMG_0241.JPG" /></a>
<br /><p>On Monday morning I got up early again and went out for a last look at Sapporo. We didn’t leave the city till the afternoon, so I had a few hours to kill. Yet more fresh snow had fallen, and everything was looking particularly dazzling. First I walked around Hokkaido University, which was right next to our hostel. Then I went down to the Botanical Garden. I’d heard that it contained a museum to Hokkaido’s Ainu people, an indigenous group that lived there before colonisation, and I’d made it one of my top tourist destinations. Unfortunately, that part of the garden was closed, so the only part I ended up seeing was the greenhouse. For lunch I walked down to Sapporo’s famous Ramen Alley, a narrow side street lined with ramen shops, and then found a place selling sakura ice-cream and bought one. That’s ice-cream flavoured like cherry <em>blossoms</em>. It wasn’t bad, although I think I would have preferred cherry.</p>
<br /><p>In the end I wound up at Nakajima park, in the south end of downtown. I’d passed by it many times before, but never had a chance to explore it. I spent my last hour tramping through the snow, marvelling at the beauty around me and enjoying the stillness. Then I rejoined my companions for the bus ride back to the ferry terminal. Having been sick on the trip over, I decided to go straight to bed and sleep right through the return journey. We arrived home on Tuesday morning.</p>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4LSfQFAA21hbV6bstWvZ4-0tLC-6Ka2TZeE88gD7hd3qmzM-YMw37oQwYw2WlZnG6X933XLJ8J1oQ1_FROklFTUa-SLOAqC4BHcy3oaP8lD6yDxSVQkWNGFZTW-k0IIZIGOqVhl-YFux/s1600/IMG_0843.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648438539600387314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4LSfQFAA21hbV6bstWvZ4-0tLC-6Ka2TZeE88gD7hd3qmzM-YMw37oQwYw2WlZnG6X933XLJ8J1oQ1_FROklFTUa-SLOAqC4BHcy3oaP8lD6yDxSVQkWNGFZTW-k0IIZIGOqVhl-YFux/s200/IMG_0843.JPG" /></a>
<br /><p>Back at school, I held my second swing dancing class. More students came than to the first one, but they had to leave early. I’ve put up a new English board about colour. At my elementary school, there’s been a kind of sequel to my “Canadian cooking” venture. All the grade two students, the ones I ate lunch with, wrote me thank-you letters, which were then bound together into two booklets and presented to me. I thought it was a really sweet gesture, despite the fact that I can’t actually read any of them. On the bright side, as they’re all written by seven-year-olds, the language in them is actually pretty simple, and they may prove useful down the road when my Japanese improves and I want some reading practice.</p>
<br /><p>In the news this month, there are uprisings in Egypt and Libya. Closer to home, an earthquake hit Christchurch, New Zealand, toppling buildings and killing dozens of people. I don’t know anyone in Christchurch, but there are ALTs here from the city. Fortunately none of their relatives were hurt.</p></div></div></div></div></div>Blue Ice-Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02752433505801501443noreply@blogger.com0