Who’s half-inched my motor?

We have a saying here in Japan, don’t count your cherry blossoms until the fat lady sings. That has certainly never been more true than on Monday morning. Saturday was a day full of glorious sunshine. A group of us had a picnic in a friend’s garden, everyone trying to get some colour back into their translucent winter skin. After a few sandwiches and cakes, conversation got around to speculation about when the cherry trees would blossom this year. Cherry trees blossom (the blossom is called sakura in Japanese) in early spring, but only for about two weeks or so. In Japan this heralds the start of spring and the end of months of snow. We have had a run of good weather for the last few of weeks, and the many mounds of snow around the village have started to disappear, albeit at a glacial pace.
On Saturday, the clever money seemed to on April 10th for the first sight of sakura. Some contested this and said it would be on the 9th. Those who suggested the 8th were laughed out of the village and instructed never to return. How they can be so precise about when the buds will open? Hundreds of years of viewing sakura must give you a good feel for that kind of thing, I guess. The Japanese word hanami means flower viewing, and the two weeks that the sakura are in bloom are referred to as hanami. When it will happen is always a big talking point, but even more so this year as the winter brought the most snow Itakura has had for over 20 years. The debate continues…
Sunday was a miserable day weather wise, so I didn’t venture far, or indeed out of my apartment for that matter. You can imagine my surprise when I walked out of my apartment on Monday morning. After a preliminary glance at the car park, I couldn’t see my car – I asked myself whether I had parked it up by the school as I sometimes do when we have a lot of snow. That wasn’t the case, however. My car was there, outside my apartment, it was just under half a metre of snow!
I just walk over the road to get to school, so most days I don’t have to use my car, but on Monday I had a meeting at the City Office, so I was forced to dig it out. Not only was it in 50cm of snow, but it was 5m from the road and each of those metres was 50cm deep too. I make that around 4 cubic metres of snow between me and my meeting (if you haven’t got to grips with metric yet, that’s about 14 fluid miles in old money). Back in Scotland, you wouldn’t have seen me for a week, and during that week I would have been reliant on survival packages heli-droped in by the Army (beer, curry and things of that sort). Unfortunately for me, things don’t stop for snow in Japan…
My Suzuki Alto has 4wd and it’s extremely light, so you’d be amazed at what this thing can get through. Foolishly, I tried to use it as a snowplough, which has worked quite well in the past. Although I made fabulous progress for the first seven or eight centimetres, I soon came to screeching, wheel-spinning halt. I had managed to place my car on top of the 50cm of snow, rather than push through it. The next 40 minutes were spent trying to chip away at the snow under the car, in the hope that my tyres might make contact with something a little more solid than fluffy white snow. It was a lesson learnt, shall we say.
The top photo is of my car on Monday morning. The second picture is a warning about what could happen if you don't clear the snow off your roof - and I thought I had a bad start to my day!

The class of 2006

The school year in Japan runs to a slightly different timetable that the one we are used to in the UK. The school year draws to a close in the last week of March and the new year commences in the first week of April. Without sounding like too much of a tree-hugger, spring seems to me like a good time for the school year to begin, being the season of new life and, erm things. The students have about a week or so between one grade and the next, so they haven’t got time to forget how to write or anything like that – I remember going to school after an interminable amount of time only to find writing to be a real struggle. The principal holiday comes in August and all students, even the littlest ones, have homework to do. Children in northern prefectures like Hokkaido get shorter summer holidays and longer winter ones, as the immense snow can force schools to close at the height of winter. Even though there was almost 3m (10ft) of snow in Itakura, not one school day was cancelled due to snow. When you know you will get such a volume of snow every winter, you create ways to live through it. I will certainly never look at snow in the same way again!
My third grade students from Junior High School had their graduation ceremony on Monday. The Japanese have their own unique style for doing even the most mundane of things (tea ceremony, for example), so I didn’t know what to expect from a Junior High School graduation. The Japanesey-ness of the day was kicked off with the female third grade teachers all wearing kimono. From what I understand, putting a kimono on makes putting a kilt on seem like a walk in the park. Being incredibly tight and involving many layers, Miura Sensei told me that she was up at 5.30am to get the whole kit and caboodle in place. I, on the other hand, pealed myself off my futon at 7.30am and threw a suit on. I reiterate once more, it’s great being a bloke.
One thing I was expecting from the day was that it would be chilly in the gym hall. Only classrooms and the staff room are heated in Japanese schools, so it gets a bit nippy elsewhere. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the school had acquired what seemed to be four jet engines for the purpose of heating the hall. Get too close to these mammoth beasts and expect all your clothes and body hair to disintegrate in a puff. Anyway, with these beauties growling away in the corner, things were toasty enough.
So, to the proceedings. First and second grade, along with staff and parents were sat awaiting the arrival of the graduates-to-be. This period gave ample opportunity to practice saying ohayougozaimasu (good morning) nice and loudly, and also to make sure that the level of clapping was suitably frantic. That done, the third graders were clapped into the hall. At this point the heaters were turned off to preserve the silence and reflective aspect of the moments to come. Once the students were seated (boys with hands in a fist on top of their knees and girls with hands clasped on their lap), the principal got up to say a few words. Following this, it was straight into the graduating. A line of students was formed, with five marked stages between their seats and the stage where they would receive their certificates. That way the students knew where they ought to be standing at each given moment. As names where called, students replied with a vigorous “Hai!” They then walked up to the principal who held their certificate outstretched. Bow, right hand, left hand, receive certificate, side-step right (or left, depending on what side of the hall you are seated on), new student takes your place, you and the new student bow together (I think this was to reduce to amount of bowing the principal had to do, he’s getting old you see). There was no clapping during this part of the ceremony, but it was done to the music to the Hamlet cigar adverts (one for the UK readers).
Next, a very old man got up to say something and then the head of the Parent-Teacher Association said something – I’d love to fill you in on finer points of what was said, but it was all in Japanese. It was then over to the students to give their thoughts. Obviously it was a very emotional time, but it was multiplied ten-fold for the students thanks to the accompaniment of very slow, let’s-slit-our-wrists style piano music. The first girl to speak got about half way through her speech, but broke down while recalling her second grade school trip to Kyoto. This opened the floodgates and soon most of the females present were sobbing. I was able to remain emotionally neutral thanks to not being able to understand what the girl was saying, a cunning ploy of mine.
Next the students sang the school song for the last time and then another song that seemed to be specifically designed to make as many of the students cry as possible. This worked like a treat and many of the students left in tears. A line was made outside the school and the third graders were given a rapturous send off.
The staff was then treated to a sushi lunch. Luckily, Suzuki Sensei had given me a heads up on this and I managed to avoid the octopus, fish eggs and eel, which decorated the plates of other staff. At 5.00pm, after an afternoon spent wrestling with the sandman, the staff took a bus to a hotel in the nearby village of Arai. Another feast was laid out and alcohol was flowing freely. I successfully searched out some pork and chicken and was tucking into some clear noodles when I asked the teacher next to me what style of noodle I was eating (they looked sort of fat and udon-like to me). “Sou da ne, hm… how do you say in English… ah, jellyfish!” I could not believe it and spent the next five minutes looking like a muppet whilst trying to get everyone to admit they were having me on. No, true enough, it was jellyfish – not the tentacles, but the head part (or body, if you look at it that way) sliced into strips. It had a jelly-like texture, but there was something hard that you had to crunch through if you wanted to chew it. The flavour was negligible at best, but Japanese food seems to be about texture over flavour a lot of the time. In Japan, westerners have a reputation for being culinary prudes, and I bear this out from time to time. When in the company of others though, it’s better to get the food down you and ask questions later! If the Japanese have been eating the stuff for eons, chances are that it won’t do you any harm.
The meal ended with some staff members giving their thoughts on the day and the previous year as a whole. After each speech, three rounds of “banzai!!” are called, much in the way we say “hip-hip hooray!”
A good night was had by all. Tuesday was equally as emotional as Monday, but for somewhat different reasons.
Note: as you can see, the girl in the centre of the top picture (one of my favourite students incidentally) is giving the "double-reverse-peace-sign." It doesn't carry the same significance here as it does in the UK...

It’s not just Rock, Paper, Scissors – it’s a way of life

As I creep into my seventh month in Japan, I am starting to have issues with very basic English. I don’t think I’m alone in this, but have you ever looked at a common word and for a moment been unsure about whether it’s spelt properly? For some reason or other it just looks weird. One of my students had written the sentence “Let’s read a books at my house.” Being the highly trained professional that I am, I quickly spotted this schoolboy (schoolgirl, in this case) error. No, the mistake wasn’t anything to do with the fact that Japanese people start most, if not all, of their sentences with the word “let’s,” (let’s snowboarding, let’s drinking party, let’s tea ceremony) it was in fact the a book / books chestnut. However, once this grammatical disaster was averted, I was left staring at the word “book” thinking “b-o-o-k?? that’s not right, is it?” Rather than saying anything to the student and thus making myself look like a prize plum, instead, I said firmly, “OK, very good” and strode purposefully on to the next punter. Anyway, this has nothing to do with the price of tofu, so I’ll move on to the main topic of today’s ramblings.
Far from being a Western phenomenon, the game rock, paper, scissors thrives in Japan, but under the name janken. Janken is the oil amongst the cogs of the Japanese machine. Say there is some desirable object that five people believe they have an equal right to, the last beer at a party, for example – how do we decide who gets it? Eeny, meenie miney mo? Perhaps. What we’d probably have a lengthy discussion and try and work out who should have it: John, you’ve drunk so much you can’t feel your feet, so you shouldn’t have it; Al, you only brought a half bottle of Buckie to this do, so you don’t deserve it; Bob, you earn loads of money, so you don’t need it; Steve, it’s your birthday on Tuesday, you can have it. Fair enough, a compromise was reached, but surely not to everyone’s satisfaction. Following this exchange, one or more members of the group might rightly be feeling hard done by. In Japan, any decision of this type is made through the medium of janken.
“Saishou gu, janken poi!!” is the call, at which point you display your gu (rock), pa (paper) or choki (scissors). If there’s a tie “iko deshou” (in English "the same, perhaps...?") is called and round two is done in a flash. The best part is that janken is law. No one argues with the result of janken, and no one moans about “best of threes.” Whatever the result of janken, it’s written in stone, end of.
Elementary school is the breeding ground of this cultural phenomenon. A game I play to practice new vocabulary with students is called karuta. Students sit in groups of five or so and flashcards of the new vocabulary (animals, fruit, sports, etc) are spread out on the floor in the middle of the group. Colin Sensei calls out a word and the first student to slap their hand down on that that card gets to keep it. Rinse and repeat. However, suppose two or more of the littl’uns put their hand on the winning card at the same time, how do you decide the winner? Janken, of course. Say all five kids slap their hands on the winning card at the same time. The teacher calls “Janken”. All the kids start their chant. Round one is over – nobody is out; round two is over – three kids are out and only two are left; round three is over and Yumi-chan has the elephant flashcard. How do they do janken with five people? I’ve no idea, it’s just a blur of hands to me, but kids as young as five can calculate who is in, who is out, whether they need to go to second round, etc, quicker than you can say “yeah, but my paper wraps around your scissors.”
The redeeming feature of janken is that it removes all the responsibility, pressure and potential bad feeling that comes from having to make a decision. This is not to say that the decisions made are better than the ones we make, but they are made in a no-one-can-feel-too-bitter type way. Does this have anything to do with the fact that Japanese people don’t like being confrontational? Well, that’s the chicken and the egg scenario – do they dislike confrontation because they do janken or do they do janken because they dislike confrontation? Although I am a fully qualified freelance psychologist, I couldn’t possibly comment – I might get deported.
A conservative estimate would be that your average Elementary schooler will janken between 30 and 50 times a day. Little Takumi, a primary two pupil does janken with me as we have lunch and he gets a kick out of it every time. He is genuinely thrilled every time he wins. I would go as far as to say that janken is a Japanese reflex – catch a kid off guard with “saishou gu, janken poi!!” and they’ll be finished before they realise that they’re not competing for anything!
Janken permeates through all levels of society. You might find yourself doing janken with a stranger for an empty seat on a bus. It is not inconceivable to me that some government policy is decided through janken. Koizumi: “Shall we send more troops to Iraq? I don’t know. Saishou gu, janken poi!!” “Shall we change the constitution to allow a female to ascend the thrown? Hm, not sure. Saishou gu, janken poi!!” As sure as kelp is kelp, some decisions are made this way.
Maybe other world leaders can learn from Japan. Who should have the disputed territories in the Middle East? “Saishou gu, janken poi!!” In an instant the decision is made and no one can feel bad, because no one actually decided - it was left in the lap of the Janken Gods.
On a side note, I did janken five times on Friday and won four. Not too shabby, I think you’ll find.
Oh, and winter’s back again. I walked out the front door Friday morning to find four inches sitting proudly on my car. This enabled to reach new levels of laziness. Rather than clear the snow properly, I scraped a letterbox-sized hole in the snow and drove the 300 yards to school whilst enjoying the same viewing capacity as a Challenger II tank. It felt like I was advancing over the Siberian wastelands deep into the Russian frontier. Well, that was my escapism for the day…

“Chocolate?! You should have!”

Ah, Valentine’s Day has swung by for another year, and again there seems to have been some awful mix-up at the post office and none of my cards arrived on time (or at all, in fact). I thought it was just a Royal Mail thing, but the problem seems to be prevalent in Japan too.
A country not renowned for it’s Catholicism, Japan has, however, embraced Saint Valentine – the Patron Saint of marketing. However, it’s not so much love that’s in the air, but obligation…
Japan has taken the concept of Valentine’s Day and wafu-ed it up a bit (wafu means “Japanese style” in Japanese). Guys, if you have had a hard time living up to your partner’s Valentine’s Day expectations (maybe your flowers weren’t dazzling enough, or the restaurant wasn’t fancy enough, or the weather in Rome wasn’t sunny enough), then come over to Japan, where the shoe is firmly on the other foot – well, for a month, at least.
February 14th is the day in the year when Japanese women show the men in their lives just how much they care, while the guys put their feet up and wait for the gifts to roll in. Chocolate is the customary gift, but it’s not only for your husband, partner or even that special someone you haven’t plucked up the courage to ask out yet… there is a special kind of chocolate for your boss and male co-workers, too.
Yes, Japan has successfully marketed the “giri-choco” or “obligation chocolate.” The giri-choco is big business here, and boxes can be found in all kinds of shops, all with “obligation chocolate” emblazoned on the front. Company Chiefs will receive dozens of boxes from female colleagues, which are then taken home and shared amongst the family. The female boss, though still a rarity in Japan, can provide a bit of a dilemma for male employees…
The exchanging of gifts is a crucial element in strengthening social relationships in Japan, and it is a very important part of one’s working life. O-miyage (the “honourable souvenir”) is used to keep maintain good working relations, so should you take a trip anywhere during company time, be sure to bring back a generous box of speciality cakes or treats from wherever you went for your colleagues to share. Shops specializing in o-miyage can be found at airports and train stations, so you needn’t go out of your way in order to meet your obligation.
The chaps don’t have it all their own way, however. Men must keep track of all women they have received chocolate from and return the favour on White Day, March 14th (a fried slice of marketing genius, I think you’ll agree). Originally known as Marshmallow Day, where the gift of choice was, you guessed it, marshmallow, chocolate manufacturers got in on the act and white chocolate is now the accepted gift (marshmallows and lingerie are also ok, but perhaps not together). Be careful though, you have to give chocolate to everyone who gave you chocolate in February, not just those whose feelings you reciprocate…

Going to town on the pearly whites

There are certain things that one takes for granted in Japan after a while. What may seem curious at best on first viewing is rapidly regarded as par for the course after the third or fourth encounter. Some examples include: buying ready-made peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts already lopped off (a possible reason for the lack of hairy chests in Japan); the wearing of a white medical mask if you are ill in order to prevent those around from becoming ill too; a special pair of toilet slippers to don for your trip to the porcelain throne; and who could forget the communal public baths where everything is left to hang out.
Today’s visit to Elementary School brought one such matter to mind – synchronised tooth brushing. I don’t brush after lunch – I’m a morning and night guy and all my teeth haven’t fallen out yet. I’m not suggesting that my dental habits are better than anyone else’s, but they have stood me in good stead and given me the winning smile I have today. My students all brush after lunch. At Junior High School this left to the students’ discretion, but at Elementary School they have a brush-in-time-to-the-music method.
After the post-lunch “gochisousamadeshita!” (it was a feast!) cry, the students reach for their brushes like a samurai would his trusty sword. Then, a designated kid hits play on the CD player and we’re off. Rest assured that it’s a suitably upbeat rhythm we dance to here, no room for slouches. The same kid who got the party started then dashes over to grab a massive cardboard arrow and wheels out an equally massive map (if you like) of a good, healthy set of nashers and guides everyone through the two minute drill, thrusting the arrow from molar to canine with the grace of a daddy longlegs. The kids don’t understand why Colin Sensei doesn’t join in with the fun, but I am here to add the “international” element to their school experience…

Winter on a plate

Oden (n) – a Japanese winter dish utterly devoid of flavour. However, if pushed, I would suggest that it tastes like a beach, if you can imagine what that would taste like if it were served up on a plate. If you’ve followed me this far, think specifically of Bayble Beach on the Isle of Lewis on a balmy Tuesday afternoon in November. Seconds anyone?? At school in Japan, no food is allowed to go to waste and every pupil is allocated the same amount of the same stuff – there’s no choice in the matter, you get your portion, end of... As a result, any food left over is put up as a prize in a “janken” contest (paper, scissors, stone to you and I). This works well on a good school lunch day, but today, the leftover oden was the booby prize, so the loser of janken “won” the right to the food, not the winner.
Oden comprises of, among other things, a hearty slice of Japanese giant radish (think rolling pin giant), potatoes, carrots, a boiled egg, konnyaku (“transparent yam starch cake” – get any thought of “cake” out of your head and think “tough, speckled jelly made from recycled cardboard” – if you ask me, there’s simply not enough triangular grey food), soggy fried tofu (which melts on your chop sticks long before it has a chance to melt in your mouth), seaweed in a comedy bowtie shape, and chikuwa (fish paste tubes – which resemble a cow colon with something unmentionable in the middle…).
Now, once you’ve assembled all of the above, throw it in a pot and simmer for an interminable length of time in a kelp-based stock. Accompany with white rice liberally sprinkled with seaweed flakes and mini-(but whole – head, tail, ears, the lot)-fish. Considering simply how much food is there, it’s amazing that there is next-to-no flavour. As a possible dessert, try a tangerine or a bag of lemons to wake up your dormant taste buds.
I don’t often rant on Japanese cuisine, but this is a winter treat that I wanted to share. Winter is a tough time over here and anything that’ll make you warm is a bonus. If you are really stuck I’ve found that you can boil a whole octopus, put it on your head and tie the tentacles under your chin. Also, chikuwa tubes can be worn on your fingers a la hula hoops…
Good luck and happy cooking!
Colin.

The Very Hungry Caterpillar

Wow, that's two days on the trot, check me out! If nobody else is going to big you up, don't be shy about bigging yourself up, that's my motto. Today was a spilt school day. I was at Ogata JHS until midday and then went to Kakizaki ES in the afternoon. Ogata was good. I'm new to the school and the kids only see me once a week, so they are quite shy, but they are coming around slowly. Two of my three classes are great and they really try, but the other class has a couple of bad apples in it, so that affects the other apples / students in the class. I'm working on it though. If I can find a bit of common ground with the rebels in the class then at least they might shut up when I tell them to, well that there's the theory...
Today's classes were about the "present progressive," or "...ing words," as I called them until last week. "What are you doing?" "I'm cooking / playing video games / listening to music," etc. Lots of miming and jumping about like an idiot a la elementary school, but it got the point across - even the bad apples learnt the grammar point, so maybe they aren't all that bad.
Lunch was udon noodles in a meat sauce, which I wolfed down. It was certainly one of the few Japanese meals that I've had where I could positively identify 100% of what I was putting in my mouth. A day to remember, I think you'll agree. Post lunch is always a bit of a circus, as ten minutes of manic teeth brushing ensues. Kids and teachers alike brush their teeth next to long trough-like sinks in the corridors. Watching people trying to talk to eachother during this is hilarious, as they resort to grunting and gesturing.
I have been replying to some letters that my JHS 2nd graders wrote to me last week. It's great practice for them as they can write about whatever they like and not just the grammar that we're trying to teach them. The letters are really sweet and the students seem to have taken a long time writing them, pictures and all.
On to Kakizaki for English Challenge Club. These kids are really good for their age. We read The Very Hungry Caterpillar today. Thanks to the Japanese katakana syllabary the kids can sound out English words, even if they can't understand what they are saying. The star of the class has to be little Moto. I was handing out the books at the start of the class and while the other students all said "thank you" as I handed them the book, Moto pipes up with "Japanese okaki!!" which is what they call the rice workers. He shouts that out at least ten times in each class. I'd love to know what happens to him as he gets older - there's no doubt he is switched on, but he's just completely mental.
Well, no rest for the wicked - I'm off to teach my adult conversation class.
Best,
Colin.

Elementary my dear Wat-san.

Happy new year. I've figured that little and often is the game, so rather than writing a review of the last 5 months, which I'm sure you would only read this first two paragraphs of, I will tell you about what I did today. What a novel concept that is!
So, today was an elementary school day. I go to three elementary schools in total. One day a week I go to either Hari or Miyajima (they alternate week by week) and I also teach the "English Challenge Club" at Kakizaki elementary school. Hari and Miyajima are right on my door step, but Kakizaki is about 40 minutes away, right next to the sea. The difference in weather is incredible. Hari has about 2.5m of snow, but Kakizaki barely has more than a few centimetres. While we're on the subject of schools, my base school is Itakura Junior High School, which I visit 3 or 4 days a week, and I also teach once a week at Ogata Junior High School, but only until April, which is the end of the school year.
Well, that paragraph told you nothing about what I did today except that I was at Hari ES. Sorry. I'll move onto the meat of this yarn now. At ES I generally teach 3 or 4 classes per day, either 1st grade to 3rd grade or 4th grade to 6th grade depending on the week. First graders are about 5 or 6 years old and 5th graders are about 10 or 11. I had the little'uns today. If you're in the right frame of mind, ES can be the most fun you'll have all week. The wee ones are genuinely excited to see you, and it's just a case of maintaining that excitement and not boring them with flashcards of fruit names. If you can do that, it's great, you leave school at 4pm thinking that you're rock star! The ES classroom is the place where you can forget that you are a grown-up. There is no room for inhibitions. You really have to get down to their level and mess about and be a kid. English-speaking kids that are 5 and 6 will lose interest in you in 10 seconds if you are boring; with kids who don't speak English I reckon you have about 3 or 4 seconds on a good day! Yes, jumping around like an idiot is how I spend my time at Elementary School... The kids are completely adorable, and you can't leave the class without 10 of them trying to climb on you or pull you in different directions.
Anyway, today... After 10 minutes reviewing the vocabulary that they have learnt over the last few weeks, I taught them how to tell the time and how to say "what time is it?" This, natuarally, was conveyed through the meduim of "what's the time Mr Colin?" more commonly known as "what's the time Mr Wolf?" Imagine how afraid/excited you would be if you're 5 years old and the biggest person you've ever seen in your life is chasing after you shouting "dinner time!!" in a language you don't understand. The game went down a storm, so much so that at lunch time I played it with all three classes together in the gym hall, much to the bemusement of the other teachers!
I have some of my best Japanese conversations with my ES kids. The teachers prefer us to only speak English at JHS, but that's not an option at ES. However, the ES kids assume you understand Japanese, as they've never met someone who doesn't. They rattle away at you at 100mph and then tilt their heads to one side when you look back at them blankly.
Monday and Tuesday this week involved the Niigata JET midyear conference up in Niigata City. The Monday morning drive to Kasagayama station in Joetsu had the most hazardous driving conditions I have ever seen. With the snow being blown off the ricefields and across the road, we had zero visibility in parts and just had to stop the car and wait for it to pass. Anyway, the conference... All the English teachers from across the prefecture get together to bang there heads together about various teaching-related topics. It was pretty useful all in all, and it was nice to get up to the big city for a couple of days.
Well, that's all for now. I'm going to do some prep for my visit to Ogata JHS tomorrow.
Best,
Colin.

Sweet Home Itakura

My tipsy little house has grown on me. Despite the harshness of the Japanese winters, the house doesn’t appear to be overly sturdy at first sight, but I have been reliably informed that it has withstood what nature has thrown at it so far – earthquakes and typhoons. The rain lashing down on the tin roof and the tin roofs of the nextdoor buildings has quite a relaxing affect when I’m curled up on my futon. When the wind starts to blow, there is always a good 20 minutes of fun to be had trying to shove paper between the shoji screens and windows to stop them rattling.
My apartment is on the small side, but this has its good and bad points. Whereas I’ll never have space to host a big party, I am able to heat my place in the fraction of the time it takes some people. I have one tatami room where I sleep, study, eat and relax in. Tatami is the tightly woven straw matting that is a commonly used in Japan. It’s a no shoes zone – socks or barefoot only please… It’s a much warmer surface than a wooden floor and easier to clean than a carpet. I have a decent sized kitchen, a bathroom and a fair bit of storage for all sorts of bits and bobs. The only furniture I have is a chair, a bookcase, a wardrobe and a low table called a kotatsu. It’s basic, but I don’t like having a lot of clutter around me, so it suits me fine.
The place is reasonably traditional. I’ve got the tatami floor, sliding doors and shoji screens (paper walls / blinds – I fully expect to drunkenly put my hand / foot / head / all of the above through it in the not too distant future, so I don’t count them as a permanent feature of my house…).
Aircon is a man’s best friend here. As there is no real insulation in the building, you seem to be either too hot or too cold, except for about four days in October when the temperature was perfect.
I got a wee car. It’s a four wheel drive… um, Suzuki Alto… It might not look it, but it’s a dream to drive, honest! Slightly concerned that I won’t be able to find it in the morning after a heavy night of snow. It’s a bit of golf cart really, but when the studded winter tyres are on her, then the true beast will be revealed! With a bit of persuasion I should be able to get it up to the slopes in winter. Driving around has helped me orientate myself. It’s also nice to have the freedom to just shoot off into the hills whenever I want.
There is not much in Joetsu to be honest, so I’m quite glad to be out in the sticks. I’m in the village of Itakura, which has a population of 2000 or so, but it is quite spread out. It’s far nicer to go for a run amongst the rice fields than down the streets of a rather non-descript town. Joetsu City reminds me of a sprawling US town that doesn’t really have a town centre.
The town is too sparse to just walk around and all the streets look the same. There aren’t an abundance of street signs, even in kanji, which makes it’s a tricky for those new to the place. There is an area called Takada, however, that is quite nice. There are a few nice shops there, a big park with castle and a massive lake covered in lotus flowers. There is also an area in town called Honcho, which has lots of shops – it should get quite Christmassy there soon, well, by Japanese standards at least…

Proper Crimbo (shopping)

Well I’d better try and get into the habit of the blog lark, so here are a few words on my trip to Tokyo this weekend – well, Saturday to be precise.
My home prefecture of Niigata is on the west coast of Honshu and sits next to the Sea of Japan. Tokyo is on t’other side of Honshu, but thanks to Shinky the Shinkansen you can get across to the capital relatively swiftly. We (Heather, Stacia and I – the three of us live in the same building in Itakura) left our sleepy mountain village before sun up in an attempt to cram in as much as we could in our brief visit to the city, the principal aim of which was Christmas shopping.
Squeezed into Stacia’s tiny Suzuki something or other, we weaved our way through the misty mountains and numerous tunnels on our way to Nagano City in the next prefecture – along the expressway it takes a little over an hour. We parked the car up at Nagano train station and head off for the Shinkansen line just as the sun sleepily lifted its head from behind the horizon.
If you are a kid in the UK and you say that you love trains, then people will think you are a geeky trainspotter. Not so here. Boys in Japan love trains, and rightfully so, because the Shinkansen is a very cool thing indeed for numerous reasons.
Firstly, they look like space shuttles more than trains; secondly, they travel at around 200mph; and thirdly, they are always on time. Your ticket has your seat and carriage number on it and indicated on the platform is where you should stand and wait for the train. The Shink then whispers its way up to the platform at precisely the scheduled minute and, as if by magic, the carriage door you want is tight in front of you. Once on board you have bags of legroom, plenty of space for your bags (and legs) and the ride is so quiet and smooth that you nod off within a few minutes – none of this screeching of wheel on tracks that cuts you right to the core. Anyway, enough of this waffle – the moral of the story is that the Shinkansen is quite cool. It takes about an hour and a half to get to Tokyo from Nagano.
Once in Tokyo it was time to see whether I still had all the city-slicker skills that I’d picked up in London. Not so, it seems, as I tripped coming off the train and had a close encounter with an elderly Japanese businessman. We took the metro from Tokyo Station to Shibuya, where some of the city’s best you-can-buy-it-all-here-and-more department stores are.
I had heard a lot about the outrageous dressing of the Tokyo youngsters (says he at all of 24), but I thought it was probably just a few alternatively-dressed kids and the whole thing had been hyped up. Not so, they are all over the place. If you can imagine Camden on a Saturday afternoon cranked up a little bit, but more cutesy and less Goth / rock, you're almost there. The guys have big coiffured hair soaked in so much hairspray that you fear walking too close to them as they might spontaneously combust, while the ladies are so scantily clad it would make you mother blush. It is definitely the place to be seen.
Our first port of call was Tokyu Hands, three sprawling multi-story towers of all sorts of Japanese randomness. Christmas isn’t a very important religious holiday in Japan, but they have embraced the spirit of Christmas – the commercial spirit that is.
Having looked through what Tokyu had to offer, we toddled along to Loft – more of the same basically, but more trendy. Back out on the streets we took in the atmosphere – a cup of coffee while standing by one of the busy crossings made you wonder where all of these people could possibly be going (I think I have been out in the sticks for too long).
Next stop was Asakusa, formerly Tokyo’s principal entertainment districts way back when. The main attraction for us was Nakamise-dori (top picture), a long shopping precinct that leads up to Senso-ji Temple. You can buy all manner of bits and bobs here and it’s a fascinating area to simply wander around. At night the street is wonderfully lit, which makes it very atmospheric. Senso-ji is not one of the most attractive temples I’ve seen since I’ve been in Japan, but to it’s left is a stunning five storey Pagoda. It too was rather atmospheric, all lit up and that…
Back on the tube and we scooted off to the Ginza district. Ginza is the posh shopping area in Tokyo; huge buildings pulsate with neon and the main aim seems to be to remove as much yen from your wallet as you can as quickly as possible. The most impressive building for me was by Dior (I don’t know if he designed it, but it had his name on it). It looked as though it was covered in diamonds.
In search of some non-Japanesey food – not something we have the luxury of in Joestu too often – ideally we would have stumbled upon a Mexican restaurant as soon as we exited the station, but it wasn’t to be. Instead we settled for a wee Irish pub down a side street. I didn’t catch the name, but O’Flannigan’s probably isn’t far off. A Guinness and a Shepherds Pie later and I was a happy bunny.
A hop, skip and a jump back to Tokyo Station and we were soon Shinking our way back Nagano.
Did I ever tell you how cool the Shinkansen is? Well, firstly…and sleep.

Why put off today what you can put off tomorrow?

Well I make that a solid month and a half since I wrote anything on this blog. Yes, like a small child, I picked up the concept of “the blog,” played with it for a wee while and then threw it away and moved onto something else. While that is part of what happened, another reason for my infrequent updates is that life in Japan started, and a little matter of learning how to teach English (and speak Japanese) came into focus.

Even as much as two months into being here the holiday atmosphere was still in full swing. The days were warm, the nights long, and everything was new and exciting. All the newbies here in Joetsu were frantically rushing here, there and everywhere to see all the different and unusual things that our new home had to offer. Needless to say, such a pace was not going to be kept up indefinitely. In my first nine or so weeks in Japan, only one weekend did not involve jumping in a car and heading out of town on some sort of adventure.

I must admit being rather impressed by what lies on our doorstep. Being in the central belt of the main island of Honshu, there are a lot of places within easy striking distance. Niigata itself comes into it’s own when the snow arrives (which, I have been promised, is imminent). The novel Snow Country by Kawabata Yasunari, which won the 1968 Nobel Prize for literature, was set in Niigata (but I don’t need to tell you that). The prefecture is famous for excellent rice, sake and skiing, and I’m happy with that.

I’m yet to explore the coastline, but I have been told that a few good beaches exist. South along the coast from Joetsu is the town of Kanazawa. Due to its lack of military targets it was spared the kind of destruction that many of the other major cities received in WWII (Kyoto also escaped in tact). Consequently, many of the cultural and historical sights still exist, including former samurai and geisha districts.

In the next door prefecture of Nagano are some of the most breathtaking mountains that the country has to offer; it is often referred to as “the roof of Japan.” It is also home to apples the size of grapefruits, which are a meal in their own right (Dave will attest to this). The prefecture’s main city, also called Nagano – really, what are the chances? – is only a short drive along the expressway from Joetsu. It’s a very modern and trendy city and got quite a boost thanks to it’s Winter Olympics in 1998.

One of it’s main attractions, piping Starbucks by a whisker, is Zenkoji Buddhist temple. Inside, next to the main alter, is a staircase that descends into a pitch-black tunnel that you can walk through – this symbolises death and re-birth, clever, eh? Within the dark, twisting tunnel you can find the key to eternal salvation. FYI – it’s about two-thirds of the way along on your right.
That’ll do as a wee chunk for now. I’ll update this as best I can, but I can’t guarantee there will be any coherence to things until we are up to speed. Things will just come to me over the coming days and weeks and I’ll be inspired to type in a few lines, so bear with me.

Fuji

Definitely one of the highlights of my first couple of weeks in Japan was my trip to Mount Fuji, or Fuji-san as the Japanese call it. At 3,776m it’s the tallest mountain in Japan by quite some way. However, as it’s the most sacred mountain in Japan, it’s also one of the most frequently climbed. So, if you head to Fuji during a holiday weekend in the height of the climbing season, don’t expect to have the place to yourself…
A group of the Joetsu ALTs set off in convoy early on Saturday morning in high spirits. The sun was shining and it was nice to leave our little town behind for a day or two. Three carloads set off from Sanko (the accommodation for one group of ALTs) at around 10am. However, the group soon split up/got lost. Japanese road maps in English aren’t easy to come by and they aren’t especially detailed either. Therefore, most of the journey involved confused mobile phone conversations trying to determine exactly where x and y have taken a wrong turning and why they’ve run out of expressway!
For my group everything was going fine until we stopped in a small town near the base of Fuji for some dinner. Having fuelled up on whatever stodge we could get our paws on, we then set off (in the dark) to drive up to the 5th station on Fuji. In the daytime, trying to find this road would be very straightforward – there’s the volcano, the roads probably between here and there somewhere. However, at night, the task is a little trickier. Two failed attempts and numerous u-turns later, we were crawling our way up Fuji to an altitude of 2,300m.
It is possible to climb Fuji from sea level, but it’s also possible to swim the Channel – but I choose not to. At 2,300m you are already much higher than the highest mountain in the UK, Ben Nevis at 1,344m, and you still have that height to climb again to get to the top of Fuji. I for one make a point of aiming for the line of least resistance.
At the 5th station we prepped ourselves for the ascent. Our aim was to climb at night and in order to see the sun rise (in the Land of the Rising Sun, clever, eh?). Due to the temperature difference between a clear night at altitude and the baking morning heat, we were all kitted-out like Arctic explorers setting off on a three-month reconnaissance of the East Siberian Sea quickly followed by a fortnight in Magaluf.
Rarely are the words “souvenir” and “practical” used in the same sentence, but the Fuji-san Walking Stick™ was just that. Providing a third foot on tricky inclines and offering some support to weary feet on the way down, most climbers opted for the walking stick. Tie a Japanese flag to the top and even the most tight-fisted of tourist couldn’t resist. As an added bonus, you can get various stamps burnt into your stick at the various stations you pass on the way up to the top. Needless to say these were all in kanji and I couldn’t read them, but I like to think that they are all very poetic, meaningful and full of Eastern wisdom. So, having picked up a few last minute monkeys and parrots, we set off at about 9.30pm, everyone suitably full of beans.
A few early jokes along the lines of “oh, this is a bit tough, ha ha!” soon turned into somewhat more serious concerns about exactly what had been taken on. As we were already at quite an altitude, some of the guys were puffing and panting quite early on, so the pace slowed to make sure that everyone stayed together – it was pitch black after all! The general terrain was coarse, volcanic gravel, which was quite frustrating to walk on – two steps forward, one step back… Some light relief was given through sections of vertical, rocky climbs using handily attached chains.
Along the way we came across various official stations and pseudo-stations. They all provided a place for a short rest, a shop to buy some basic food and drink, and an old weather-beaten man to burn the must-have stamp for that station onto your walking stick (for 200 yen of course).
As the night wore on we began to realize that this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park that we had hoped for and that we would actually be climbing through the night. At about 2pm tiredness was starting to take hold. Up until then the blood pumping through my body had done a great job of keeping me awake irrespective of the time. However, the stations were no longer for catching your breath, but for catching 40 precious winks. It’s very surreal to fall asleep, even for a moment, and awaken halfway up a volcano in Japan in the middle of the night…
At the 10th station I decided to make use of the “facilities.” I’m not a fan of the Asian loo; I’ve never claimed to be. Crouched in position with your trousers around your ankles, if you’re not crapping into back pocket, you’re peeing into your front pocket. The loos on Fuji were pretty primitive and generally just a hole in the floor of a wooden hut. Plenty of “misfires” ensured that the wooden floor around the hole was well soiled, and a pile of poo sat at the bottom like some kind of decaying pyramid. At almost 10,000 feet it’s pretty hard to hold your breath for very long. You enter the hut bravely, breath held, and desperately try and do what you have to do without inhaling. Inevitably you give up, start gasping and are left squatting there puffing in the most rancid of smells.
The penultimate station was reached at around 3am, and from there on it was a straightforward slog for the top. The last station had a tatami room where you could, for a fee, have a proper kip before the final assault on Fuji-san. As a result, when we passed that station we joined a queue of people pouring out onto the climbing path, all hoping to reach the top in time for sun rise. It became very slow going from this point on. What should have taken an hour to climb took a good two and half hours.
We were now in Indian file and had to stop for five to ten seconds every couple of steps. This is where standing still in the dark whilst incredibly tired started to play funny tricks on my mind. While standing waiting for the queue to inch forward I would doze off sleep apnea style – not the best thing to be doing when you could fall and roll all the way down the volcano you’ve been climbing for the last eight hours. During these little naps I would have sworn that I saw a little old Japanese lady dressed in white run though the queue selling bowls of steaming hot ramen. I have been assured that this was not the case…
It was now past 5am and there was a strong orange glow on the horizon. For a short moment you could see the stars in the night’s sky, the orange pre-sunrise glow on the horizon and the lights in the village below. Luckily we seemed to time our walk to perfection. We reached the summit (no sign of the old lady, hm…) just in time to get a good position for some photos before the sun burst out from behind the horizon. It was spectacular. There were gasps and shouts of “sugoi!!” (cool) and “o-hayo gozaimaaaaasu!!” (good morning). Naturally, all the tiredness was replaced with a combination of awe and a sense of achievement. As we were officially climbing out of season, we were very lucky to get the view that we did – it could very easily have been thick cloud, especially at 3,776m.
One final stamp and a peek into the crater and then we set off back down the mountain. There are two (and only two) good things about climbing Fuji at night. Firstly, you are entirely unaware that you are climbing what is in fact a very ugly mountain, close-up at least. Secondly, you can’t see how far you have to climb, beyond a faint line of head-torch lamps that zigzag above you. On the way down, however, you get to see the red, volcanic dust all around you and you can see precisely how far you have to go before you can take your boots off and have a beer. The early-morning sun turned into full-blown midday sun and jackets and fleeces were swapped for water bottles and sunscreen. At 11am we arrived back at the 5th station and treated ourselves to a well-earned burger and an ice cream. The best thing to do after such exertion is to relax in an onsen and we found a suitably relaxing onsen nearby. We slowly soaked our aching muscles before passing out on the communal tatami floor.

The opening gambit....

Well, I’m here…

I’ve been here about a month and I’ve decided to get the blog up and running. It’s gone by really quickly, but quite slowly at the same time. Lots done and my head has almost stopped spinning. I’ll try and bring you up to speed as quickly as possible…

Arrived in Tokyo in the 17th of August. Got off the plane and hit a wall of heat. Summer was in full swing and the humidity was intense. Luckily most of my time in Tokyo was spent in an air-conditioned hotel. We had a two-day orientation, which basically reviewed a lot of info that was already in our handbook, just to make sure everyone was “on the same page.” It was nice to meet some other new JETs and see how their last month had been. I had about four weeks notice to sort myself out, but some people only had two weeks! I can’t imagine how stressful that would have been.


The Tokyo Metropolitan Government Offices, opposite the hotel

We had the chance to go out and explore in the evenings. The streets were hot and humid – about 27C even at 10pm. I’ve never seen anything like Tokyo at night. It was like walking through a theme park, all flashing lights and strange writing. The streets were immaculately clean and not a spot of graffiti anywhere. I had to remind myself that I was actually there and that it wasn’t a dream. The whole experience just seemed very odd.


A tourist friendly menu outside a restaurant

We ended up in a little noodle shop on the first night, but on the second night we splashed out and went for drinks on the top floor of the Hyatt hotel (where Bill Murray did his drinking in Lost in Translation – a bit cheesy I know, but the views were incredible, the lights just went on and on). On the way back we popped into a pachinko parlour (basically a vertical pinball game). It’s hugely popular in Japan. Apparently the Yakuza (Japanese mafia) launder a lot of money through them – good to know.


If you like noise and flashing lights, Pachinko could be the thing for you

Headed off the next morning (Friday). A lady from the “Niigata Internationalisation Team” came to pick me up from the hotel. The Shinkansen (or bullet train) pulled into Tokyo Station and a squad of cleaners were waiting for it. They all bowed as the train went past. Once the passengers had gotten off the train they ran onto the train in a cleaning frenzy. To my delight, it was not just a bullet train, but a double-decker bullet train at that! I was mightily impressed; I didn’t even know they existed. The ride was very smooth and slept like a baby all the way to Nagaoka where I got off to meet the Japanese Teacher of English (JTE) for my school. He and his colleague were holding a sign saying “Welcome to Joetsu, Colin,” a lovely touch.

It was about another 40 minute drive to Joetsu City, where I met up with my supervisor and some of the other ALTs for the region, about 16 or so. They were all expecting me and I got a big round of applause when I arrived, which was a bit overwhelming. They are all really nice – a good mix of Brits and Americans (Brits have the edge in terms of numbers). We went out for dinner that evening and then I unpacked some of my things.

On Saturday morning we took the three-hour ferry out to Sadogashima. It wasn’t like the Stornoway ferry, there were no seats inside, just carpet (no shoes remember!). It was perfect for sleeping on and the three hours flew by! The kids on the ferry had a great time running around.


Not sure what this was about, but it was worth a snap

The reason for going out to the island was the Sado Island Earth Celebration festival. It’s a three-day music, dance and art festival. The Kodo drummers are the big draw. These guys tour the world eight months of the year, but they live in a compound just north of the port of Ogi on Sado. They have to adhere to a strict physical, mental and spiritual training regime. These guys are insanely fit. Try http://www.kodo.or.jp/ for more details.

From Ogi we got a bus out to a beach, the name of which escapes me, and we set up camp on the sand. Some volleyball and a swim was followed by a few beers and sake around a campfire. One of the Japanese blokes we had played volleyball with came over later in the evening and said, “fire, now” and walked off. We figured that he wanted us to join his campfire, so we followed him with a few beers to be polite. Oh how wrong we were! What he meant was that a couple of the fire dancers who would be performing at the festival on the Sunday night wanted to give us a show. It was truly awesome. There were about 15 of us watching it, so it was quite intimate. It worked so well with the pitch-black background of nighttime, the flames illuminating whatever they passed – a head, a leg, the sand. Some mad heat lightening over the sea topped off quite an interesting first full day in Niigata.


Awesome, in the old-fashoned sense of the word

The heat of the early morning sun woke me up at 6am. Myself and a few of the other guys went for a swim before we packed up our things and headed back into town. I then had my first onsen experience… It’s basically a mineral hot-spring spa and they seem to be just about everywhere in Japan. Get stripped off, have a good old wash and then slip into a big pool with lots of naked men you’ve never met before. Oh, and I’ve discovered that if you’re a little sunburnt then the water will feel hot enough to peel the skin off a rhino. Onsen veterans had their own “modesty towel,” but newbies such as myself have to settle for the old birthday suit. This onsen was really nice – perched on top of a hill overlooking a bay. It had several pools and a couple outside (suitably private of course). To top the whole thing off, a couple of eagles cruised past us only about 30m away. Had a rinse down and a shave before passing out in the communal tatami (tight woven matting) room for about two hours.

Back in town we bought our tickets for the Sunday night show. A Spanish chap called Carlos Nunez was on the bill – believe it or not, but he played Celtic music and it was the most amazing bagpipe playing that I’ve ever heard in my life! If Jimi Hendrix had played the bagpipes it would have been like that. The main event, however, was Kodo. The speed, timing and power of the drumming has to be seen to be believed. The drums are huge and they use drumsticks the size of rolling pins. A couple of guys had baseball-bat-sized drumsticks. Their part culminated with the big man being wheeled out to do his 20-minute solo on a massive drum. He was an absolute beast of a man. Even when he finished his solo, he just jumped down from his drum and got stuck in with 30 minutes more drumming with 5 other guys – and they don’t mess about!


The big-yin

Camped again that night and then got the 6.30am ferry back to Joetsu in time for our day of seminars with the Joetsu-shi elementary school teachers. The aim was to tell them how to use an us, the native English speakers, effectively. I got to meet my elementary school teachers – I’ll be teaching at Hari ES, Kakasaki ES, Miyajima ES, but will be based at Itakura JHS.

On Tuesday I finally went to my Junior High School – all of 100 yards from my house! I can here the band practising when I’m eating my breakfast. I met all the teachers. I had to give a brief introducion of myself, which was translated by the JTE. All of the teachers are very friendly and welcoming. Only my the principal and my JTE speak decent English, so trying to communicate with the other teachers is great fun – try doing a 9 – 5 though the medium of charades!! It’ll help my Japanese, but my eloquence in English might ware-off!

Itakura is the village I live and it’s tiny. The population is around 2,000 but that's spread over quite a large area. Stacia, an American ALT who lives in my building, went to the post office to collect a package that was delivered while she was out – all the staff excitedly ran out to greet her. They then lined up and introduced themselves to her. It is proper countryside here – just rice fields and mountains. There is a great panorama from the 3rd grade classroom. There’s also a 2500m mountain nearby called Myoko, which is a great backdrop. I’m about a 15 minute drive to the nearest big town, Joetsu-shi.

This is apparently one of the best areas in Japan to ski. I’m about 50km from Nagano where the Winter Olympics were held in 1998. There are other slopes about 20 minutes drive from my house. Snowboarding will be the way to go – apparently it’s pretty much the only thing to do in the winter… well, it could be worse. The weather just now is about 30C+ most days, but come November it will get much colder – they had 2m of snow at one point a few winters ago.

The food has been ok. Much less fat in the cuisine here, but I’ve realised that even the most inconspicuous bits of food can have fish in them. A couple of the veggie ALTs are having difficulties. Food shopping is a real treat here, especially if you can’t read kanji (characters taken from Chinese). My thinking is that if in doubt, it probably has fish in it. It’s is basically a bit of a lucky dip at the moment – although I have developed a bit of a penchant for their sticky rice, which you can buy in huge cement-sized-bags for £15. Interestingly, you can buy three squid for a quid (and I mean an entire squid, eyes and all); it’s probably three quid per squid in the UK…

My Japanese just now involves a few phrases that are needed to be polite, some very random vocab (acquired as necessary) and some basic phrase structures – do you have, I would like, what is this, etc.

Well, that's a summary of my first few days in Japan. I'll try and fill you in on the rest of the month when I get a chance.