TOKYO -- In another capital city half-way around the world, murder. Brutal political assassination. While I was sipping a gin-and-tonic with Maki and Yumi, a man shot former Pakistani prime minister Benazir Bhutto and then blew himself up, killing her and several others.
How is this acceptable to anyone as a means of settling a political dispute? I will never understand what extremists are thinking and feeling. Even if I could empathize with their views, their methods are not acceptable by any moral standard.
There are plenty of problems in the United States. Gun crime, for example. But much of the world is plagued by a sad, violent breed of instability. I can not understand it. I can only write a few words, baffled words, perhaps ignorant words, just words.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
So many escalators
Update: Heading out into Shinjuku for the second time today, this time steering clear of Department Store Hell and seeking out a big bookstore before a 7 p.m. meet-up with some friends.
Also seeking: a new topper.
More later.
Also seeking: a new topper.
More later.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Tokyo
The bus left Nagoya at 5 p.m. and I have just arrived in Tokyo's Shinjuku, where I'm staying in a hotel which is conveniently located right around the corner from the drop-off point. I may be just calling it a night but there is a small chance I'll be able to meet up briefly with one of the Japanese friends via OSU.
The plan, as usual, is that there is no plan, though I am trying to book different lines of friends on different nights so I have a chance to see everybody. Otherwise when I'm on my own I'll explore with the camera.
I had long planned to get up to Tokyo when I had a few days off but I went back and forth on this particular trip. I booked the hotel and bus here just two days ago after a last minute decision to put the trip back on. I still need to book a way home, but the bus service I wanted to use is full on the day I wanted to return. So some improvisation is due.
For now, enough of What I Would Be Doing If I Were At Home. At the very least I should take a walk around, maybe hit the McDonald's across the street. (At home, you see, the McDonald's is at least a 10-minute bike ride away. This is the life.)
Updates and photos will follow. Just as soon as something happens.
The plan, as usual, is that there is no plan, though I am trying to book different lines of friends on different nights so I have a chance to see everybody. Otherwise when I'm on my own I'll explore with the camera.
I had long planned to get up to Tokyo when I had a few days off but I went back and forth on this particular trip. I booked the hotel and bus here just two days ago after a last minute decision to put the trip back on. I still need to book a way home, but the bus service I wanted to use is full on the day I wanted to return. So some improvisation is due.
For now, enough of What I Would Be Doing If I Were At Home. At the very least I should take a walk around, maybe hit the McDonald's across the street. (At home, you see, the McDonald's is at least a 10-minute bike ride away. This is the life.)
Updates and photos will follow. Just as soon as something happens.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Ho Ho Ho
A lot happened since the last "what I've been doing" post so I'll try to fill in the gap here.
First, it's pretty common for foreigners here to be cast as Santa Clause this time of year, mainly for kids. Last weekend, after a long night of little sleep, I headed off to a friend's English school for kids, slipped undetected into a back room and prepared to don the garb of Old St. Nick.
It was the full outfit, beard and all. Before I went on, they fed me. Not milk and cookies, but close enough. In the room across the hall, an unsuspecting group of kindergarten kids munched on snacks and learned about Christmas.
I was busy checking myself in the tiny make-up mirror every few seconds to put my mind at ease over the beard issue. You see, the beard has straps, and I was doing everything I could to conceal them under the jolly red cap or behind the jolly white whiskers. I am a method-acting Santa, you see, and one little slip up could knock me out of sync with the North Pole.
But all went well. One by one they took a seat on my leg and attempted to communicate with the strange man in the red suit who may or may not have suspiciously smelled exactly like what they all just ate for lunch.
It was easy. A couple hours later I returned for another group, this one larger and somewhat more energetic. I walked away from the scene, in my street clothes, $30 richer. And the kids seemed happy, except for that one girl, who is more than likely still crying.
First, it's pretty common for foreigners here to be cast as Santa Clause this time of year, mainly for kids. Last weekend, after a long night of little sleep, I headed off to a friend's English school for kids, slipped undetected into a back room and prepared to don the garb of Old St. Nick.
It was the full outfit, beard and all. Before I went on, they fed me. Not milk and cookies, but close enough. In the room across the hall, an unsuspecting group of kindergarten kids munched on snacks and learned about Christmas.
I was busy checking myself in the tiny make-up mirror every few seconds to put my mind at ease over the beard issue. You see, the beard has straps, and I was doing everything I could to conceal them under the jolly red cap or behind the jolly white whiskers. I am a method-acting Santa, you see, and one little slip up could knock me out of sync with the North Pole.
But all went well. One by one they took a seat on my leg and attempted to communicate with the strange man in the red suit who may or may not have suspiciously smelled exactly like what they all just ate for lunch.
It was easy. A couple hours later I returned for another group, this one larger and somewhat more energetic. I walked away from the scene, in my street clothes, $30 richer. And the kids seemed happy, except for that one girl, who is more than likely still crying.
---
What else? We had our end-of-year party on Friday (stage one of my long night), which is not quite like your office Christmas parties back home. Instead of decorating the conference room and awkwardly forcing yourself to socialize for two hours, everyone shows up at a rented conference room at a hotel and awkwardly socializes for two hours. Except it's only awkward at first, and then the drinking starts.
First you drink only with the crew at your table, where you were randomly placed by lottery (I was with the head hanchos, the only ones whose names were attached to seats). Shortly after the drinks start flowing, people start roaming the room, from table to table, offering to refill drinks, be they sake, beer or tea.
This goes along with a key part of dining etiquette in Japan -- you do not pour your own beverage. Instead, an empty glass is a signal to others that you are ready for a re-fill (and usually, maintaining a full glass is the secret to avoiding a never-ending supply of booze, if anyone ever does this). In the party setting, people were so eager to socialize through the glass re-filling process that a full glass was no excuse to turn down an offer. Instead you be polite and take a sip, opening up a centimeter of space for your new friend to fill. It really gets the party moving.
The momentum from the glass re-filling circus carried right through into the trivia game, which began right as people were starting to get tipsy. Even Sam and I were made to play and we were covertly fed answers by Mr. Sato. I escaped the game uttering something in Japanese, but I have no idea what it was.
Japanese work parties are a different cup of tea. They can get wild. People can get quite drunk. Horribly inappropriate things could take place in the fog of booze and detachment from the real place of work. But then on Monday, it's all erased. It's not spoken of. Nothing wild and crazy happened at our work party, though, so I'm afraid I don't have any good stories in this department.
No do I have a good ending for this post, except to say that I'll be appearing again as Santa at Nanaimo's Christmas Eve party. There will be two Santas ... the other a tall, lanky Englishman who may or may not be dressing as Mrs. Claus. Stay tuned for a full report.
First you drink only with the crew at your table, where you were randomly placed by lottery (I was with the head hanchos, the only ones whose names were attached to seats). Shortly after the drinks start flowing, people start roaming the room, from table to table, offering to refill drinks, be they sake, beer or tea.
This goes along with a key part of dining etiquette in Japan -- you do not pour your own beverage. Instead, an empty glass is a signal to others that you are ready for a re-fill (and usually, maintaining a full glass is the secret to avoiding a never-ending supply of booze, if anyone ever does this). In the party setting, people were so eager to socialize through the glass re-filling process that a full glass was no excuse to turn down an offer. Instead you be polite and take a sip, opening up a centimeter of space for your new friend to fill. It really gets the party moving.
The momentum from the glass re-filling circus carried right through into the trivia game, which began right as people were starting to get tipsy. Even Sam and I were made to play and we were covertly fed answers by Mr. Sato. I escaped the game uttering something in Japanese, but I have no idea what it was.
Japanese work parties are a different cup of tea. They can get wild. People can get quite drunk. Horribly inappropriate things could take place in the fog of booze and detachment from the real place of work. But then on Monday, it's all erased. It's not spoken of. Nothing wild and crazy happened at our work party, though, so I'm afraid I don't have any good stories in this department.
No do I have a good ending for this post, except to say that I'll be appearing again as Santa at Nanaimo's Christmas Eve party. There will be two Santas ... the other a tall, lanky Englishman who may or may not be dressing as Mrs. Claus. Stay tuned for a full report.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Blow the Belt
Maureen Dowd of the New York Times imagines one last debate before Iowa votes. Good stuff.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Reality Land and Dirty Tricks
Dirty trick season is here. The Clinton camp's newest panic-mode effort is a sad strategy to put Barack Obama's admitted teen drug use back into the headlines. Obama wrote about his drug use in his own book, long before he was running for anything. He has talked openly about it on the campaign trail as recently as last week. Rival candidates have not made a fuss about it, as they shouldn't really, because it's highly irrelevant today.
But a Clinton adviser, in an interview with The Washington Post, said his past drug use should be an issue, pushing the story into headlines and making it an issue just before the voting starts in Iowa. Clinton's camp distanced itself from the remarks and the operative later said he shouldn't have made them. But this is classic dirty trickery at work.
What likely happened was that somewhere deep in the Clinton strategy center, probably a tense place right now as Mrs. Inevitable has slipped in the polls, it was decided that they needed a torpedo. But Clinton cannot just stand up and add a paragraph about cocaine to her stump speech. They pick a sacrificial operative to let the issue slip, then distance themselves from the remarks. Then the operative apologizes, and everyone live happily ever after.
But the job is done. Who benefits from this mistake? Obviously the Clinton camp. Most folks will buy the fairy tale that the operative wasn't speaking for the campaign and that no one planned this whole gig.
In Reality Land, this was almost certainly an orchestrated move. A brilliant, sad, well executed move.
But a Clinton adviser, in an interview with The Washington Post, said his past drug use should be an issue, pushing the story into headlines and making it an issue just before the voting starts in Iowa. Clinton's camp distanced itself from the remarks and the operative later said he shouldn't have made them. But this is classic dirty trickery at work.
What likely happened was that somewhere deep in the Clinton strategy center, probably a tense place right now as Mrs. Inevitable has slipped in the polls, it was decided that they needed a torpedo. But Clinton cannot just stand up and add a paragraph about cocaine to her stump speech. They pick a sacrificial operative to let the issue slip, then distance themselves from the remarks. Then the operative apologizes, and everyone live happily ever after.
But the job is done. Who benefits from this mistake? Obviously the Clinton camp. Most folks will buy the fairy tale that the operative wasn't speaking for the campaign and that no one planned this whole gig.
In Reality Land, this was almost certainly an orchestrated move. A brilliant, sad, well executed move.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
a post
My main room is now host to a sofa-bed. It's basically a thick futon-like mattress on a platform and one side clicks up into three different positions of sofa-ness in addition to the fully flat bed-like setting. At night I lay a futon over the sofa-bed to form my new upgraded sleeping area. This is warmer and more comfortable than the double-stacked tiny futon of yester-week.
So that's good.
The second term of the school year (my first) is winding down, which means final exams, which means nothing for me to do, which means reading books and surfing the net at school, which may lead to more blog posting, but we can't be sure.
I've been spending plenty of time at work in recent days trying to arrange details of my trip to Tokyo. I've already re-arranged things a bit -- instead of going over Christmas, I'm going after, staying in Ise to attend related parties.
I may or may not be appearing twice as Santa. I expect full compensation in the form of snacks and beverage, and if the big white beard plays well maybe I'll just keep it on over winter.
Back to Tokyo -- I'm in talks with friends about staying at their places for a day or two while I'm there. If that doesn't work I am looking into youth hostel options, which sound good except for silly curfew rules (be back at 12 when you're on vacation in Tokyo?).
And at this moment I'm debating whether or not to go off to Nanaimo for a 600 yen dinner. One of the veteran gaijin in Ise, Sean, eats at Nanaimo just about every night for dinner, simply asking the owner (and our friend) Kentaro for something to eat. He gets creative for Sean and everything I've seen looks delicious. Most of these dishes aren't on the menu. I'm not saying I want to eat at Nanaimo every night, but now and then it beats to ritual of heading to the grocery store and cooking in my tiny kitchen. So I'll decide within the hour if I'll get up and head out to Nanaimo or come up with a plan B for dinner. Since I currently have no groceries and would have to bike to the store anyway, there's a good chance I'll just go the extra mile (literally) to Nanaimo.
So then. Time to freshen up. Good day.
So that's good.
The second term of the school year (my first) is winding down, which means final exams, which means nothing for me to do, which means reading books and surfing the net at school, which may lead to more blog posting, but we can't be sure.
I've been spending plenty of time at work in recent days trying to arrange details of my trip to Tokyo. I've already re-arranged things a bit -- instead of going over Christmas, I'm going after, staying in Ise to attend related parties.
I may or may not be appearing twice as Santa. I expect full compensation in the form of snacks and beverage, and if the big white beard plays well maybe I'll just keep it on over winter.
Back to Tokyo -- I'm in talks with friends about staying at their places for a day or two while I'm there. If that doesn't work I am looking into youth hostel options, which sound good except for silly curfew rules (be back at 12 when you're on vacation in Tokyo?).
And at this moment I'm debating whether or not to go off to Nanaimo for a 600 yen dinner. One of the veteran gaijin in Ise, Sean, eats at Nanaimo just about every night for dinner, simply asking the owner (and our friend) Kentaro for something to eat. He gets creative for Sean and everything I've seen looks delicious. Most of these dishes aren't on the menu. I'm not saying I want to eat at Nanaimo every night, but now and then it beats to ritual of heading to the grocery store and cooking in my tiny kitchen. So I'll decide within the hour if I'll get up and head out to Nanaimo or come up with a plan B for dinner. Since I currently have no groceries and would have to bike to the store anyway, there's a good chance I'll just go the extra mile (literally) to Nanaimo.
So then. Time to freshen up. Good day.
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