My friend Mr. Nasu works in the town office. If I have not come into the office for a while he will say to me, “Sashi-buri” or “It has been after a long absence.” And so it has.
It’s beginning to look a lot like….
I thought, in a country with a Christian population at less than one percent, perhaps I would be able to avoid Jingle Bells and Santa for one season. Nope, lights are up everywhere and stores have big Christmas displays. So far however, there are no Chanukah, Ramadan or Quanza decorations to be found. In Elementary School the other day I helped my classes with the new English songs they are learning, “We wish you a Merry Christmas” and “Jingle Bells.” I have also helped the Jr. High chorus work on “Hail Holy Queen”. Christmas is big here. Business, government buildings and even homes are decked out with lights and trees. There are even a few places that would rival that crazy house off the Rt.22 overpass in Plainfield (reference for NJ readers).
Last weekend I attended three Christmas parties and I have another coming up on Friday. I asked some of my students what they do for Christmas. Everyone seems to have cake for the holiday and many people mentioned fried chicken (KFC) and French Fries (Fridu Potetu).
I showed my adult conversation class some Chanukah items and tried to explain the holiday. It just doesn’t register when I say that Jewish folks don’t celebrate Christmas. That is one cultural communication I will just have to let slide for now.
I feel the Earth move under my feet
As I was getting ready for bed one night last week, I heard the chickens outside get really noisy. As this is not totally unprecedented, I ignored their squawking. Within a moment or so, the room was shaking. Not violently or anything, but still shaking. It went on for a few seconds and then stopped. I asked a teacher if that had been an earthquake. She said that it had but only a very small one.
That kind of little shaking in the evening doesn’t really phase people in a country as natural-disaster prone as this one.
Last month, two of my junior high schools had “Bunkasis” or cultural festivals. The Bunkasi is a day long event that includes a play by each of the three grades, English speech recitations, choral works
by each class, Tyco drumming, the school orchestra and an art display. A teacher asked if we have anything like a Bunkasi in America. I told her that we do have art exhibits, school plays, orchestra and chorus recitals; just we don’t cram everything into one day.
Bunkasi — Giant paper crane and a recreation of Guernica in the background.
Bunkasi — Presentations (Menda)
One particularly poignant play was a student written piece about nurses and wounded soldiers in WWII. In the end two of the nurses who had been warned against it, surrendered to the US forces as a video projection showed footage of war images and the classes trip to Okinawa where they had laid 1000 paper cranes at a memorial to war dead from both sides. Other plays included traditional Japanese mythical stories, a play dealing with issues the students face and of course Romeo and Juliet-o. And for the record, the dialogue is in fact just as incomprehensible in Japanese as it is in English.
The schools are covered with student art work and booths the students run during breaks from the performances. The art ranges from massive origami cranes to a recreation of the Tower of Babel made by gluing 120,000 tiny squares of paper onto a giant grid (see photos on my blog).
The back to back Bunkasis were a natural opportunity for back to back teachers parties (and after- teacher parties) for those of us who work here. As always, this is a great way to enjoy time with my coworkers. Many of whom discover a latent ability to speak in English after a few cups of beverage.
The other day I opened a document folder where I keep all of my important papers like contracts and car registrations. A small mouse had somehow gotten into the not-quite impregnable plastic. He crawled out of a pocket over my finger, so I did what any relatively calm, masculine person does in such a situation. I dropped the folder and screeched like a nursery school child.
He landed on the floor dazed. By the time I had arrived with a dustpan, he was feebly walking around in circles. I put him outside in some bushes. This may be harsh, but he is a mouse and I’m just not that in to animals living with me.
I have now been to a few Mochi ceremonies. When a new house under construction has been framed out and has a roof, there is a custom to observe a religious / community ceremony involving Mochi. Mochi are a type of steamed, pulverized rice cakes. The mochi are quite chewy and remarkably bland save for a slight metallic taste (which Japanese people claim not to taste). The mochi are put into plastic bags and taken up to the roof of the house.
On the roof the carpenters and the home buyer say Shinto prayers, drink some Sho-chu and then throw the Mochi to the crowd of neighbors waiting below. In modern days Mochi is supplemented with candy, packaged snacks and money. Inside the plastic bag along with the Mochi are sometimes papers with numbers on them and coins. The papers correspond to wrapped presents which are handed out latter along with other food items.
I have learned that it is very important not to boil or cook the Mochi you receive from this ceremony, because then the house that is being built will burn down. Japanese people will know and respect this, but my participating in this ceremony as a neighbor prompted a number of people to break out their electronic English dictionaries and to ask me to please not cook the Mochi so the new house would not burn down.
No problem, after choking down one, I took the rest into my office and left them on the snack counter. The other prizes included a set of hand towels, some fruit and a bunch of candy. Definitely a cool ceremony, that serves to ingratiate yourself to your new neighbors.
I went climbing with my friend Masatoshi in the Kagoshima prefecture. We left early in the morning for a ninety minute drive to Mt. Takachiho. At the foot of the mountain, just past the pavement of the parking lot, we started out with a very small cup of Sho-Chu. We sipped a little then poured the rest over a tree. I believe this is a done for luck or a safe trip. Then we started the climb. The first bit is easy, its just a simple walk up some trails and rock steps. After about 20 minutes we were at the rock. Here we were going up a “path” that seems to be about 45 to 55 degrees up. We got to the top of a crater and walked around the edge to the actual mountain on the other side. The crater was supposedly formed as the result of a volcanic explosion that destroyed the mountain (volcano?) that had once stood there. The actual mountain was a little difficult, but well worth it once we reached the summit.
Takachiho — Model. We climbed from the yellow kangi around the crater to the top of the mountain on the right.
At the top Masatoshi san took a gas stove out of his backpack and started cooking fish and ramen noodles. I chatted with some other hikers at the top and enjoyed some beautiful views. From the top you can see Kagoshima city, an active volcano, the ocean and the crater.
Takachiho — Veiw from the top
Takachiho — Created by a volcanic eruption, note the steam.
Going down is as difficult as going up on this particular mountain. The rocks are relatively loose and the best way down is not the slow and steady, but rather gently jumping a few feet at a time and trying to avoid any solid rocks that would stop your momentum.
Takachiho — Peace yo.
(For more spectacular photos: http://cooperroad.org/Jbstoler/jbstoler/Japanblog/Takachihou/index.html)
At the supermarket the other day, some tents were set up outside and the supermarket staff were selling fruits and vegetables. I went to one stand and saw a bunch of about 20 bananas for 200 yen
(approximately $1.60). I told the vendor that it was a good priced as I paid for the fruit and some mushrooms. A few minutes later I was shopping inside the store. I try to listen to and understand as much of the in store announcements as I can. A man was talking about the produce; “Delicious Oranges, 150 yen, Try the delicious tomatoes…” I was impressed with my ability to catch a number of the words that were going by. Then I heard, “Delicious Bananas, Delicious Bananas 200 yen, the American English teacher said they are a good price…”
Some will tell you that it is a mix of paranoia and narcissism that leads foreigners to assume everyone is always talking about us. Then again, just because I may be paranoid doesn’t mean it isn’t true.
Oto Oto San
My brother David will be visiting me for 2 weeks starting this Saturday. We will be traveling around Kyushu and then Tokyo.
And Finally: Letters from two Vacuum Cleaners
My vacuum cleaner has been broken, and sitting in the BOE for the last 2 months. Recently the following message appeared on a card attached to the vacuum.
Hello, this is Sanyo-San the vacuum. I have been sick lately and need to see a doctor or vacuum repair man. I used to live in Ue, but have been living by this door in the Board of Education division
of the Asagiri Town Office.
One day I hope to return to Joshua’s house, so I may again be useful and keep the floors clean in his house. I am afraid there will be much work for me when I return.
Well thank you for taking the time to read this note, I would have written it in Japanese, but having lived in the ALT apartment for many years, I only learned the English Language.
Two days later there was an upright vacuum cleaner standing by my desk. It had the following message:
Hello. I am National-San. I had worked at Mr. Kawashima’s house, but since a new high-tech vacuum came to stay there I have been bored. I heard that my friend, Sanyo-san, is very sick. I decided to go to Joshua’s house since there is a lot of work to do at his house. I will try to get along with Joshua and do my best.
Asagiri, Kumamoto Prefecture