Saturday, March 1, 2008

Someone just emerged from what I thought to be a perpetually empty room in this house, cried, "Shitsureishimasu!" and then darted into the bathroom. I have no idea who this person is.

I really don't feel like writing in this blog any longer. There is either nothing to say, or alternatively, too much to say, at any given time. If you want to know how I'm doing, either on facebook or via email. If you want to know what Japan is like, it's probably best to wait until I get back to ask. Although, my answer will invariably be, "Good, but messed up".

Some of the Gaijin here find it be a paradise. One fellow who returned to America sent me a message saying that America is no longer his home, and that he awaits the day he can return to Japan so as to once again live his life. That isn't me at all. I enjoy studying here and learning all these things I'm learning about all these different things, and I am having fun and enjoying myself, but it's just that, study. There is no life to lead here, for a non Japanese, no matter how well you speak the language, and there isn't one for me personally.

I don't want to leave, but I'm looking forward to coming back.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

My Host Mother

My host mother's name is Suzuki Tomoko. We live in her two story house in Machida, near tsukimino station. Machida is a town outside of Tokyo, but it connects with the Tokyo train lines, so you could call it a suburb of Tokyo. She was a piano teacher for 25 years. The room that was used for teaching has three yamaha pianos and is now rented out to another piano teacher to be used for lessons. Recently she has joined a number of chorus groups in the Tokyo area. Her range is from an alto to a mezzo soprano. One of her choirs has a concert in February and she will be traveling to Germany this summer to participate in an invitation-only international chorus competition. She uses her piano room for practice when her friends come for their old japanese women chrus group.

Suzuki-san was born in China during World War II. When she was three, the war ended, and her father smuggled her onto a ship bound for Hayate (a port town in Kyushu) in a sack. The voyage lasted for a month. I asked her if she remembers anything about it, and she said that she remembers not having any food and seeing people dying.

Later, she married a man from Tokyo and they had three children. Her husband is now deceased. All of the pictures of him in the house show him with the same expression, quiet eyes and a drawn face with edges of his mouth upturned, like a serious man laughing at his own joke.Suzuki-san also has two sisters and a brother, of which I have only met her sister that lives in Tokyo, Hiromi. Hiromi is an artist and much of the artwork in the house is hers, surreal paintings of flowers. Her children are now grown and moved out of the house. The oldest son is a muscian (I went to one of his shows) and he is married to a woman that gets easily drunk. They have no children. Her oldest daughter is married and has two children, and Kai, 7, male, and Maki, 4. The boy is interested in animals and sports and sometimes we throw a ball around. The girl enjoys drawing and watching films, and she recently gave me one of her crayon drawings. I'm not really sure what I'm looking at. Her youngest son is unmarried, and he often comes to house and spends the night. He sleeps about as late as I do. One morning he spent time teaching me various Japanese sayings. He is a civil engineer, and travels a lot because of his job. He enjoys talking about the places he has gone and explaining what he did there. He gets drunk after drinking only one beer. When he is drunk, he plays the piano and tells jokes.

Suzuki-san is a great cook. My favorite dishes of hers are her curry and, even though it's not really a dish, toasted sandwiches. I recently asked her to teach me how to cook, and so far we have made ground beef and the aforementioned curry. She has also begun asking me to peel fruit, mostly for practice, but also because we both love fruit. Even though I have class at one thirty in the afternoon, from the beginning of my stay here, she has made me get up at nine for breakfast. Despite my history of over-sleeping and being hard to wake up, with a little help in the beginning, I have been able to keep up this schedule. Under this regiment, I have not been late or missed a class once.

She loves old movies especially Charlie Chaplin. I bought "the great dictator," and after watching it together once, she showed to her family when they came over for dinner, and then a third time by herself. I signed up for a movie rental membership and we have started watching movies together. She says she doesn't like weird movies or frightening movies, but I got her to watch "One flew over the cuckoos nest," and she really enjoyed it. We had a couple discussions about what the movie was trying to say and the motivations for the characters. She even printed out a Japanese review for the film she found online and made me translate it. She often gives me little assignments to do in order to improve my Japanese. Once, she made me translate a story in her English learning book into Japanese before I went to bed, despite the fact that it was almost midnight.

Suzuki-san is out-going, strong willed, and likes to talk. She is funny and appreciates making jokes. She is stubborn at times, but occasionally my own stubbornness wins out. She very much has Japanese sensibilities, but even so, does not really get upset if I miss the last train or am late to breakfast as long as I keep her informed and talk things out with her. I enjoy staying here with her.

Monday, January 14, 2008

The filaments are glow, they go unchecked from this color-spectral flow

I resent the accusation that my ability in the English language has in some way become impaired merely because of my childishly inept, yet comedic, defamation of In Rainbows! Can't you philistines appreciate ironic hyperbole? What? I can't repress these opinions, they shoot out like bullets from a gun named celibacy. See? I'm off the mother-fucking chain.

Jason and I went to Jim-BO-cho the other day. *Waits for laughter* This is the train stop that has books painted on the walls. Guess what this place's "thing" is?

Taxidermy.

No, it's books! It was pure torture! Imagine being at sea for months, having lost way your way as well as most of your crew and supplies in a vicious storm seemed conjured from the very barometric pressure of hell itself, water at it's last trickle as you watch the endless expanse of sea lap up against every side of your tiny, recently dilapidated vessel.

Yeah, it was like that.

But then we found a bookstore with english books, half of which were steinbeck's apparent lesser works. Although I did get invitation to a beheading and the old man the sea, two that i've been meaning to absorb. Jason's quest to read the the zoo story and once and for all solidify his opinion on albee once again bore no fruit.

Then we went to Shimokitazawa and saw some bands. Unbeknownst to myself at the time, if the bill has 5 or more bands, the thrifty concert goer can choose one band to see out of the many and save money. For me, however, with an aching to desire to see as many bands that I don't know as possible, an indie cluster-fuck, if you would so kindly follow my turn of phrase there, the question what band do you want to see conjured no response besides, "must one choose?"

The scene is what you would expect from this sort of venue, expect not from japan. But then, when does ones expectations of Japan ever resemble the reality? So true, so true...

The bands were pretty good. Jason and I both liked the first band, worst taste, which we only saw a couple minutes of, although Jason maintains we saw half of a set. I liked the second band, creepy pop, because of their animal like dual lead men, their bassist who never faced the stage and seemed to be behind the electronic effects, and the bad ass drummer that came on with a sick mask, yet started the set shirtless. I used my amazing Japanese skill to ask them what their band name was and also to tell them that they were skilled musicians. Riveting stuff, I know. The next band was sub par aside from the last song, which ended in the lead guitarist smashing his guitar. It had been acting up all set, so the rage shown towards it was believable. The guitar, man. Had it coming. Jason liked the next band, nemo, because he likes noise rock. Wasn't my cup of tea, but it wasn't bad. The next band sucked. Exactly the kind of band I don't like. Jason thought they would be tolerable as background music, and I think the only reason I stayed was because of how goofy the band members looked, but we both knew they sucked. I think I accidently promised the lead singer we would see their next show though, when I asked him what their name was (the band order was incredibly choatic, to the point that at one point I could only assume that the fist band whose name I asked was LYING TO ME ABOUT THEIR BAND NAME, which ended up being mere paranoia) and then mentioned that I had heard of the venue at which their next show was to be performed. Haha, awkward.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Been awhile

A pretty long while. A lot of stuff has been going on, so I feel pretty justified in not posting for so long. Long story short, my mom came for almost 2 weeks, we traveled around Japan, and then the day my mom was to leave I found out that Jason was coming to Japan, the very next day. It should go unsaid, but I'm fucking tired. Compounded with that, almost every spare moment I now have is taken up wining and dining with my host mother, which is actually AWESOME, but shes got this thing about me not sleeping late, which is going to kill me eventually. Shikata ga nai.

I'll post pictures eventually (or will I?) of the places my mom and I went. The list: Hakone (great views of fuji and this crazy ryokan (japanese style hotel) where we were literally waited on by these japanese maids and butlers during 8 course meals), Koya-san (a mountain upon which one may choose to stay in a buddhist monastaory and pray with the monks in the morning, also, home to a sprawling necropolis hidden in a forest), Hiroshima (where everything is closed on during the new Year's holiday except for chinese food restaurants) and Kagoshima (hanging out next to a relatively active volcano island... gets approval from the mad scientist in me). My mom and I got along surprisingly well during this trip. Meaning that we only hated each other 77% of the time. This whole thing was a whirlwind tour in the westernly direction of Japan, so traveling was quite hectic. This was one of the least planned trips I've ever done, with no thought given to travel times or train scedules, much less what attractions we actually wanted to see. Despite this, things went pretty well. I became a lot more confident in my Japanese, as I was responsible for the livelihood of two, and my mom's extensive knowledge of Japanese begins and ends with an extremely uncouth way of saying thank you. Contrary to what she may say, I can almost guarantee that no one knew what she was saying.

Interestingly (or depressingly, take your pick) Japan kind of all looks the same, at least everything aside from hokkaido. Of course, I've never been to hokkaido, so I have no clue if even that had any truth to it. I guess this is the point to reveal that my trip is put in the context of this book I'm reading, Dogs and Demons, which is a non-fiction account of why Japan is toilet. And by that I mean, why Japan is destroying it's natural ecosystem and culture in favor of a bureaucratically induced, unchecked, and seemingly mindless lust to modernize, or at least give off the impression of modernizing economically (I mean, truly, who cares about medical or environmental or architectural or safety advances appearing in other nations? As long as a country is constantly producing roads that go no where and dams that completely change the natural waterflow of japan and leave a homogeneous labyrinth of concrete embankments, doesn't that mean that a nation is on the path to success and harmony?) with no mechanisms in place to allow Japan to make the change from a modernizing to a modernized nation. But you know, enough about that.

Jason is currently in Kyoto now, for 2 days or so. It's great having him here, actually, so great that I wish each and every one of you could come visit me individually for a week or so. I've been a bit worried about changing so irrevocably on this study abroad that I will cease to be able to relate to my friends at home, who I value so immensely. But if anything, Jason being here reminds me what kind of person I want to be and what kinds of things I want to be doing, and how the way I've changed as more to do with how I interact with the world as a whole then my principles or self. I still latch onto the things I used to love, and the kind of people I would like back home, and mentally reject everything that doesn't fall into that frame. The real difference is that now I'll go out and do those things that I know won't satisfy me or that I'm uncomfortable with or even like. And in some ways, I've become more tolerant of other people, which, instead of making everyone the same in my perception, actually allows me to really appreciate the people that are spectacular even more. Of course, this all bullshit, and there are things I'm still uncomfortable doing, and I'm probably just clinging to the things I'm used to as opposed to truly embracing the new things. Yeah, ok. I'm having fun here, but I'm really looking forward to coming back.

I found what I was looking for. A place in tokyo that I can truly say is my place, the place I want to be on the weekend or after school or I want to take people to show them how cool it is. You won't find it in any guide book and a lot of people in tokyo have never heard of it (although, just like everything, now that I know about something, it seems like it's everywhere and everyone and their mom knew about it already). Shimokitazawa, friends, Shimokitazawa. It's the one place I've gone and, instead of being dissapointed and dejected, has surpassed my expectations.

See, the thing about Tokyo, or the majority of it, is that it has a lot going on and stuff, but a lot of it is stuff I could care less about, an overabundance of bars, expensive food, clothing boutiques, and pachislo (pachinko and slot). It is, in fact, the very opposite in Shimokitazawa. I even want to go into the stores, seeing as many of them are second hand clothing or junk stores (one crazy toy store with, of all things, retrogames and sesame street books). Also, a great used cd store, with things for as little as 3 bucks (most new cds in japan are a standard 30) and an awe-inspiring selection, with a feel of an indie cd store back home. Also, the people feel authentic. Wait, what? Sorry, i just confused myself. This is the one place I can talk to people on the street and not only do they not lie to me, but they are real people with open interests and insecurities, but want to interact with me on a real level, as oppossed to just practicing english or getting off on the fact that I am a white person. One of the wiaters at the burger place we went to actually personally walked us out of the restaurant with us and continued to wave at us until we were out of sight, after we had been talking to most of the wait staff for the majority of our time their and the rest of it was spent reading the book on American advertisements they had given us to read. And that was they guy who confided that he was anxious when we came in because he knew absolutely no english, and if we didn't speak japanese he wouldn't have known what to do. That has never happened to me in any restaurant before, ever, anywhere.

Also, I stumbled upon a short film cinema and an independent film cinema. Pardon? Yes, the very thing that I have a tremendous interest in back home and have had no outlet for in Japan, film, has been delivered to me with no more difficulty than walking around for maybe an hour. I was, and still am, ecstatic.

To back track a little, and go off on a tangent, playing in the cd store was this all female punk band (called the romanes, and is a ramones cover band, with all the songs in Japanese, we found out later). The Romanes were great, and Jason and I barely realized they were playing covers, but during the lull inbetween tracks, we were confronted with an unapetizing post-rock drone. What was it, we wondered, that was disturbing our enjoyment of this delightful Japanese punk? Guess what, it was a video display of radiohead's new album. For me, it was the last nail in the coffin. Radiohead's new album is a bunch of pee-pee doody. It sucks, and I never want to listen to it ever again. There. I'm done for now.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Someone from my college was doing sort of survey about people's expectations before coming to Japan and how those expectations were different from the reality. I started writing and then went a little nuts, so I thought I'd also post it here. Keep in mind that this was a thread on facebook and that I'm talking to a bunch of Japanese study abroad people and at points sort of commenting on what was previously said. I think it holds together though.

For me, the before was mostly that there would be crazy things happening at all times. It was along the lines of, some people were traditional and stern, but most people were just plain off the wall, but in a good way. In other words, I would constantly be bombarded with weird and interesting things and experiences.

The reality is, it's been just like anything else, good, bad, and in the middle. The people here are people, even if they do seem to conform more to the status quo. In that regard, actually, I was disappointed. I feel like there are weirder things going on in America, mostly because people feel a need to rebel against it. Without that, as feels to be the case here, the interesting objects and clothing and venues are just the thing of the moment or merely a fashion identity.

These people do things because it causes the least amount of strain on them. I find that if you show them you can speak their language, they are far more willing to interact with you. I think it's true that people who want to be your friends want something of you, either language or culture exchange, but isn't that what we want of them? As far as the man to woman thing goes, it's true in certain cases and not true in others. Have you guys tried picking up chicks in kabuki-cho, Tokyo? I've seen my American friends, both those that have no Japanese and those that could teach the class fall on their miserable faces almost every night that first month. It depends, I think.

That barrier that exists beyond language, that culture barrier, and the tatte mae, is indeed stronger than I was led to believe. But there are some weirdos here, that are harmless and perhaps even dorks or losers (but isn't that also us?), that we can be accepted by.

I met a male Japanese friend when he hooked up with my, also male, friend, and we didn't connect because he wanted to practice English, as his English is already exceptional. We slip in and out of both, and when he asked me whether or not it was easier to speak in Japanese and English, and I replied in Japanese that sometimes its hard to understand him, but I wanted practice, and he smiled and said, "ah, then it's Japanese!" While it's true that he does have a fascination with foreigners, don't we, as well? He loves European politics and history and economic theory. He reads Western literature. He has a strange fascination and an encyclopedic knowledge for American Presidents. He strives to understand himself by juxtaposing himself with items of stark contrast. Just like me.

The reason we became friends is because we all strange. Who are we to try to penetrate this dense culture, and yet we do try. Who is he to live in Canada, and to rebel against his Japanese traditions and live out his honne as much has he can? His difference is ours, the authentic interest in things not our own.

But that's the fallacy we came here with. We thought that because we were different, we could fit in somewhere else, a place we perceive as more strongly analogous with our tastes and ideals. But people are the same anywhere. Why would it be easier to make friends or talk to people here than in America? It should be harder, if anything, because of language. Beyond that, we'll only truly strike up with weirdos because that's what draws us in. On the surface, the Japanese are more bureaucratic, closed off, and conformist, but those are all generalities and mean nothing. Finding cool Japanese people as friends or as sexual partners or just to talk to on the street is as easy and hard as it is at home. Some people spurn you and some people are kind out of politeness, but some people truly want to help you and want for you to help them.

Monday, December 10, 2007

There are a couple reasons I haven't been posting. Here they are...SEMICOLON! No, it would go like this: Here they are; I promised last time to detail my trip to Nico and also to post more pictures. The very idea of doing either so filled me with anxiety that I neglected this blog as one would a red-headed stepchild. The tedious nature of both those actions was enough make me lose interest in blogging all together. But that isn't right to you, those of who you care about me, and by my not blogging, I neglect. So, easy, short version of things to catch up, and then new things, and then no pictures, yet.

Nico sort of sucked at first, but then got awesome. It was always beautiful, but not having a hotel for the first night was tiring, and the hotel we did get was only ok. We essentially couldn't do anything the first day because of how much time it took to get to the hotel, and then the hotel had a curfew(?). We got drunk and went to the onsen they had in the hotel. I sort of hated it. I know I'm supposed to like it but I don't, and being drunk in that situation only made it worse. It's not like I don't like being naked in front of other people, because the shower situation in my dorm makes it so I have to be in naked in front of people I don't know all the time. Something about it, I don't know. Later, Chris locked himself in out room and fell asleep. We thought he was gone, so we asked the people at the hotel to open our room, and they asked if he was asleep, but I said I didn't think so because the tv was on. The woman in the backroom said something like, I bet he's asleep because he's drunk. One of the guys opened our room for us, and looked inside and said, yappari, meaning, yeah, our friend was in their passed out wrapped in a blanket.

The next day was better because we found the hotel we had reservations for, The turtle inn, and it was sort of trying to be western style, which was adorable, just like the lady working there. When we asked about a curfew, she said, You can come and go whenever you like, but if you go out at night, please close the door to my house, with sort of a special emphasis on the words "my house", as though it were the name of the place. She would repeatedly say that, my house. This is about the time when tim arrived, and everything became awesome. It's not like I wasn't having fun, but the whole thing felt off, for some reason. I had been wowed by anything happening, and even though the scenery was amazing, I felt really distant from everything. Tim had gone to Nagano, and passed through a couple towns on the way, and the pictures he had revealed incredibly bizarre and interesting things. I was jealous, because that is what I had wanted.

We went to a korean restaurant where the owners loved foreigners and pictures of them tapped up everywhere. We chatted with the male owner for over an hour, mostly in japanese. We gave him some of the sake Tim got in nagano, and he informed us it was some of the most famous sake ina ll of japan. It was amazing, so it must have been true.

When we got back to the hotel, they went out to the baths and to the conbini, but I stayed back and fooled around with tim's ukelaly(sp?). When they got back, they had purchased all this porn. It was pretty interesting, because porn is everywhere in japan, and its sort censored in weird ways, like all genitals are censored, but also if a hand is near a genital, it is censored all the way to the elbow. Otherwise, it's the same, empty sex with flashes of humanity shining through every once in awhile.

The next day was great though. It was fun being with Tim and Josh and Chris all together and there was a good dynamic. We went to the Tokugawa tomb, which was incredible. We saw the famous sanzaru woodcuttings (the three monkeys, you know, see no evil, hear no evil, say no evil) and the architecture was great. The weather was clear and not too cold. After that, we went to a micro brewery, and while Josh, Chris and Elyssa kind of ran ahead, thinking we werent going to have enough time to catch our train, Tim and I hung back and walked leisurely. I really like Tim a lot. We connect on an interesting level, and often things that would be boring are interesting because he's around. We laugh pretty hard, as well. It's going to be a loss when he leaves in a few weeks.

Anyway, the micro brewery was great. The beer was amazing, and the owner came out and gave us apples to eat with the beer, saying after you drink the beer, the apples taste amazing, which was true. Probably the best beer I've had in japan. Afterwards, the owner gave us all a ride in his van back to our hotel, which is completely unheard of in the states. We got our stuff and went to the train. Afterwards, Josh and I realized that we had both irrevocably changed, yet we could not say how or why.

Wow, don't I look like a jack-ass. I said I didn't want to write about this, but here I actually wrote a lot.

Anyway, I got myself a host family. It's gonna be great. I actually sort of got used to the idea of not having on next semester because the people in the office acted like it wasn't happening, but then yesterday, they were all like, we need all this stuff from you to give to your host family, and I was like, so, does that mean I have one, and they were like, uh, yeah, i guess, as if they didn't really want to tell me for some reason.

Which brings to something that pisses me off about japanese people. I was sick yesterday, but I came to school anyway. However, at the end of the day I felt completely wasted, but I had a kind of interview oral, so I asked if I could take it tomorrow. The person in the office and the person who was administering the interview said it was ok, but some other person, I guess the lady who wrote out the schedule for the oral, had her panties in a twist. When I asked her, she said, well, its not like a test we can just hand to you, I'll have to reschedule you with someone. And was like, yeah..., so, is it ok? because I was really asking the question if it was ok, not telling her I was taking it tomorrow. But at that point she got fed up with me or something and just walked away, either because she thought I didn't understand her, or whatever. Someone tried to explain it to me in english, but it wasn't like I didn't understand what she said, I just didn't know what she wanted from me. I sort of realized later that by her telling me what an inconvenience it would be for her, I should naturally just not do it. Which is fucking bullshit. If someone isn't direct with me, I can never figure out what they want. Especially if it's a situation when I'm effectively asking for a favor.

I'm excited for my host family. It's only one person, no kids, which is what I wanted. A couple would have been cool, but this is also nice. I don't understand these people who spurn their host families by staying out late all the time. I feel like they are missing a chance to become close to a Japaneses person. Also, the meals, oh god, the meals they relate to me, it's enough to put me on edge. I've been literally counting calories backwards, my dear friends, to make sure I'm getting enough energy. I'm never sated here. But then there are these ten course meals for these ryugakusei, I just had to become apart of it.

I was depressed last week, about how impossible this language is. I feel better now, because I've accepted that i will make mistakes, and that it's ok. Like, there's always this culture that it's not ok to make mistakes in class, because then I get bad grades, and it reflects poorly. However, thats how I learn. I got a test back, and it was like, a 66. I looked at it for about 5 minutes, took a retake, and got a 96. I knew what I had done wrong, just by knowing that it was wrong. They don't correct your tests, just put a red mark where something is incorrect, and that's all I needed. The only way I ever learn is through my mistakes. The failure fills in the cracks. Almost always, when I'm speaking or writing, I figure out my mistake immediately after ive done it. Just this past weekend, I asked this couple for directions, and right after, I turned to my friend and said, shit, I just asked them in an unacceptably rude way, I should have said this, and I knew exactly what I should have said. This is my way. Having a host mother will be the thing that improves my japanese, more than this school. It's being here in the real world thats improving me. Not that the school isn't good, but it's nothing compared to the universe.

Monday, November 26, 2007

This past weekend a couple of friends and I took a trip to Nico (Nikko?). The name means sunlight, which is cool, I guess. This was one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. I'll detail the trip in words later mostly because I have to go to class now, but enjoy this sequential photo series from the first two days in the mean time.