The blog has been quiet this week. A pretty normal week but one that I felt went by faster than most. Final week of regular classes for the first (of three) term. Next week: finals tests for the students, boredom for me.
This weekend: Quasi-camping. About 70 JETs from around Mie are converging on a "camping" area. We'll say in cabins and enjoy the environs. Not sure what will be found in said environs, but being environs, there should be features to enjoy, and, at the very least, nature.
The way veteran JETs talk about this event, the main feature is a bunch of foreigners drinking in one place. How is this different from last weekend in Osaka? Hard to tell. Let's take a look.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Short post
I went to Osaka. I ate Mexican food. It was tasty. I went to several bars. They were lively. I took a train home in the morning. It was calm. Now, I rest. This has been your short post.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Waiting for the Chimes
Early on, I wondered why teachers always waited for the chimes before even setting off to the classroom from their home-away-from-home in the teachers room.
My instinct as an instructor was to show up early, to take control of the domain, to get materials ready. A minute, or less even, before the bells chime would be plenty. Just setting the tone.
But here, they wait. Even if we set off for the classroom too early, we'll wait in the hallway until the bell rings.
In a flash, the students snap to attention. From a chaotic clatter to a snap-to-grid sense of order. Students in identical uniforms falling into line. The class leader calls out, they all stand. He calls again, they bow.
Until that moment, the room had belonged to the students. For the teacher to barge in before the bell would be an invasion of their space. Their 10 minutes between classes is a chance to release energy, for those who aren't already drained from hours of club/sports practice after school. In that break they can act like teenagers. They can change in or out of PE uniforms. They can get an early start on the lunch made by their mothers in the early morning.
At first, I thought the teachers were being lazy for waiting for those chimes. But they're just respecting the unspoken rules. Now, I am no longer uncomfortably shifting in my chair as the lesson start-time nears. No more nervous glances at my team-teaching partner. No more questions to the other ALTs: "Aren't Japanese people always early?"
So there's a small lesson. It only took 10 months to nail it down.
My instinct as an instructor was to show up early, to take control of the domain, to get materials ready. A minute, or less even, before the bells chime would be plenty. Just setting the tone.
But here, they wait. Even if we set off for the classroom too early, we'll wait in the hallway until the bell rings.
In a flash, the students snap to attention. From a chaotic clatter to a snap-to-grid sense of order. Students in identical uniforms falling into line. The class leader calls out, they all stand. He calls again, they bow.
Until that moment, the room had belonged to the students. For the teacher to barge in before the bell would be an invasion of their space. Their 10 minutes between classes is a chance to release energy, for those who aren't already drained from hours of club/sports practice after school. In that break they can act like teenagers. They can change in or out of PE uniforms. They can get an early start on the lunch made by their mothers in the early morning.
At first, I thought the teachers were being lazy for waiting for those chimes. But they're just respecting the unspoken rules. Now, I am no longer uncomfortably shifting in my chair as the lesson start-time nears. No more nervous glances at my team-teaching partner. No more questions to the other ALTs: "Aren't Japanese people always early?"
So there's a small lesson. It only took 10 months to nail it down.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Be the ball, Danny
Golf is a popular leisure activity in Japan. From what I've read, the Japanese tend to take it very seriously, often spending years practicing at driving ranges before even attempting a real course. There are not a wealth of real courses (outside of U.S. military property, that is) and it's quite expensive to make a round.
Today, I went along with Nick and a couple others to a local driving range. I don't even know where the nearest real course is, but I'm sure there exists one somewhere in the Ise-Shima area. There were only three left-handed clubs available, and only two left handed tees. I set up at number 10 and whacked away.
The balls keep reloading automatically, even if your last shot was, for example, terrible. There is no punishment for mistakes, and unlike in real golf, you don't have to walk with your head down to find your shot that sliced into the woods.
I spent a few minutes with a five iron, then switched to the more friendly seven. There were no woods available for a left-hander. Being left-handed is pretty rare here. Those who show left-handed tendencies when they're young are "corrected." Except of course those who will be pitchers.
Anyway, I spent most of my time with the seven iron, mostly going for distance. I tried for loft, but it didn't go well and it was nearly as fun as trying to pound the ball into submission.
Nick has his own clubs, an avid golfer who used to hit the course every weekend when he lived in a place with reasonable greens fees (Australia).
After taking only a few swings, I announced that I wanted to try for a real course. While I'm sure it would be fun, I should probably recall that on a real course the balls don't keep reloading. You chase after them, even if they go the wrong way. Is that really something I want to get myself into?
Oh, probably. And there could be beer involved to alleviate the pain associated with failure.
Isn't that what sports is all about?
Today, I went along with Nick and a couple others to a local driving range. I don't even know where the nearest real course is, but I'm sure there exists one somewhere in the Ise-Shima area. There were only three left-handed clubs available, and only two left handed tees. I set up at number 10 and whacked away.
The balls keep reloading automatically, even if your last shot was, for example, terrible. There is no punishment for mistakes, and unlike in real golf, you don't have to walk with your head down to find your shot that sliced into the woods.
I spent a few minutes with a five iron, then switched to the more friendly seven. There were no woods available for a left-hander. Being left-handed is pretty rare here. Those who show left-handed tendencies when they're young are "corrected." Except of course those who will be pitchers.
Anyway, I spent most of my time with the seven iron, mostly going for distance. I tried for loft, but it didn't go well and it was nearly as fun as trying to pound the ball into submission.
Nick has his own clubs, an avid golfer who used to hit the course every weekend when he lived in a place with reasonable greens fees (Australia).
After taking only a few swings, I announced that I wanted to try for a real course. While I'm sure it would be fun, I should probably recall that on a real course the balls don't keep reloading. You chase after them, even if they go the wrong way. Is that really something I want to get myself into?
Oh, probably. And there could be beer involved to alleviate the pain associated with failure.
Isn't that what sports is all about?
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Tokyo stabbing spree
I missed the stabbing spree by an hour and a half.
Akihabara, a district of Tokyo known for cheap electronics, anime, comics, and maid cafes, was busy but calm when I changed trains at its main station at 11 a.m. Sunday.
As I moved from the subway to the above-ground line, I thought for a moment about exploring the district before heading to Shinjuku to catch my bus back to Nagoya. I decided against it.
Had I stayed, I might have seen the commotion when a 25-year-old crashed a rented truck into a crowd and then went on a stabbing spree, randomly killing seven and wounding several more.
Japan remains a relatively safe country, but crazy people are out there. Every once in a while such a random attack seems to occur. Usually it's the same kind of story. The killer is captured by police and is quoted as saying that he just wanted to kill people. Maybe he was fed up with his own life or wanted to die at the hands of the police.
I don't really have any deep insights on the issue. I'll let the media speculate as to what cultural factors may have played a role. I just wanted to post on it because I was sorta-kinda near where it happened.
Akihabara, a district of Tokyo known for cheap electronics, anime, comics, and maid cafes, was busy but calm when I changed trains at its main station at 11 a.m. Sunday.
As I moved from the subway to the above-ground line, I thought for a moment about exploring the district before heading to Shinjuku to catch my bus back to Nagoya. I decided against it.
Had I stayed, I might have seen the commotion when a 25-year-old crashed a rented truck into a crowd and then went on a stabbing spree, randomly killing seven and wounding several more.
Japan remains a relatively safe country, but crazy people are out there. Every once in a while such a random attack seems to occur. Usually it's the same kind of story. The killer is captured by police and is quoted as saying that he just wanted to kill people. Maybe he was fed up with his own life or wanted to die at the hands of the police.
I don't really have any deep insights on the issue. I'll let the media speculate as to what cultural factors may have played a role. I just wanted to post on it because I was sorta-kinda near where it happened.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Random notes
Since I got home at 4 p.m., I've been on a massive cleaning project. I've been avoiding basic cleaning tasks for the past month for no particular reason beyond laziness.
I picked up loose items, brought dishes back to the kitchen, bagged up bottles and collected fallen coins. Then the floor was clear for vacuuming and some spot cleaning.
The last step is a choice of arrangement. All my furniture is easy to move and light so I often shift things around.
Then I tackled the kitchen, which still needs work but is at least in decent shape. Dishes are caught up. The tiny amount of counter space I have is wiped down.
One problem is recycling. I've got loads of back-up in this department. We are allowed to put out recycling once a month, but I almost always miss the day. So it stacks up.
If you ever visit, don't open the closet.
But it's really nice to be in a clean environment.
And after two days of rain, it's nice again for next 24 hours or more.
So overall it's a very nice day here in Ise. I've heading out to the 100 yen store and possibly the grocery store later. Of course any time I go out it's by bicycle.
Which is why rainy days suck.
I'm from Oregon. We live in the rain. But we also drive places. So what if you have to dash through the rain? You've got a coat on. You get wet. But cycling or walking to school in pouring rain is ... a pain in the ass.
Luckily for us our newest ALT Nick has a car, and on rainy days he drives us (covertly, as the miles of paper work required to authorize an ALT driving to work has yet to be completed or authorized ... it's pretty ridiculous).
I should note that June represents the rainy season. Any conversation with Japanese people about the rain since June 1 has focused on this fact. Never mind that it was pouring all day on May 31. That was just a rain storm. Once it struck midnight, it's the rainy season. The Japanese love their seasons.
Anyway.
This post has rambled. For that, I'm sorry.
I picked up loose items, brought dishes back to the kitchen, bagged up bottles and collected fallen coins. Then the floor was clear for vacuuming and some spot cleaning.
The last step is a choice of arrangement. All my furniture is easy to move and light so I often shift things around.
Then I tackled the kitchen, which still needs work but is at least in decent shape. Dishes are caught up. The tiny amount of counter space I have is wiped down.
One problem is recycling. I've got loads of back-up in this department. We are allowed to put out recycling once a month, but I almost always miss the day. So it stacks up.
If you ever visit, don't open the closet.
But it's really nice to be in a clean environment.
And after two days of rain, it's nice again for next 24 hours or more.
So overall it's a very nice day here in Ise. I've heading out to the 100 yen store and possibly the grocery store later. Of course any time I go out it's by bicycle.
Which is why rainy days suck.
I'm from Oregon. We live in the rain. But we also drive places. So what if you have to dash through the rain? You've got a coat on. You get wet. But cycling or walking to school in pouring rain is ... a pain in the ass.
Luckily for us our newest ALT Nick has a car, and on rainy days he drives us (covertly, as the miles of paper work required to authorize an ALT driving to work has yet to be completed or authorized ... it's pretty ridiculous).
I should note that June represents the rainy season. Any conversation with Japanese people about the rain since June 1 has focused on this fact. Never mind that it was pouring all day on May 31. That was just a rain storm. Once it struck midnight, it's the rainy season. The Japanese love their seasons.
Anyway.
This post has rambled. For that, I'm sorry.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
It's good to have cheese
It started as a quest for the Greatest Sandwich Ever (In Japan So Far) but became a Mexican food foray.
Really though, it started with a Web site, theflyingpig.com, which deals in foreign food for those willing to dish the cash for a taste of freedom.
Fifteen bucks for a thing of cheese. But you have to understand the circumstances. Supermarkets here have lots of good stuff. But proper cheddar cheese is not involved. You can get a little tiny wedge of it for about $4. I'm talking about one or two bites here.
The rest of the available cheese is more of the pizza topping type or the "American" type.
So the Internet brings us cheddar. And tortillas.
Another Web site will bring me wheat bread, also unavailable in stores. From the starting point of wheat bread and cheddar, the local stores will give me the tools necessary to create this Amazing Sandwich. Vegetables will be involved. And sliced meet. But the real story will be the bread and, of course, the cheese.
But we're not there yet. I haven't even ordered said wheat bread. For now, my kitchen has been converted into a tortilla-based operation. Yesterday was burritos, today was a quesadilla with tuna (that's all I had lying around).
For financial reasons, I won't have a constant supply of these foods on hand, but once in a while I'll splurge for greatness.
Stay tuned for news of The Sandwich.
Really though, it started with a Web site, theflyingpig.com, which deals in foreign food for those willing to dish the cash for a taste of freedom.
Fifteen bucks for a thing of cheese. But you have to understand the circumstances. Supermarkets here have lots of good stuff. But proper cheddar cheese is not involved. You can get a little tiny wedge of it for about $4. I'm talking about one or two bites here.
The rest of the available cheese is more of the pizza topping type or the "American" type.
So the Internet brings us cheddar. And tortillas.
Another Web site will bring me wheat bread, also unavailable in stores. From the starting point of wheat bread and cheddar, the local stores will give me the tools necessary to create this Amazing Sandwich. Vegetables will be involved. And sliced meet. But the real story will be the bread and, of course, the cheese.
But we're not there yet. I haven't even ordered said wheat bread. For now, my kitchen has been converted into a tortilla-based operation. Yesterday was burritos, today was a quesadilla with tuna (that's all I had lying around).
For financial reasons, I won't have a constant supply of these foods on hand, but once in a while I'll splurge for greatness.
Stay tuned for news of The Sandwich.
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