Wednesday, December 17, 2003
So I have this new goal to become a rapper. Actually, its not all that new. For a few years now, one of my favorite hobbies has been memorizing rap classics and performing for friends and family. I have been doing "Ice Ice Baby" solo for years. Often, I would perform with a partner. A few years ago, while out dining with the family, my sister, brother and I did a lovely rendition of "Ain't No Fun" for everyone to enjoy (swear words and sexual refernces deleted of course. There is no swearing in the Cooper family). And Malia and I used to entertain ourselves for hours memorizing the lyrics to various Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre collaborations (we would take turns representing either Snoop or Dre, but were both well-versed in each part). For those of you who witnessed our onstage performance at Rosita's at the lovely Spring Formal, you know just how much all those hours of practice ended up paying off. And after I saw 8 Mile, I was inspired to move to Detroit and form my own hip-hop crew, representin' the 313 (or was it 818?) and battling it out with rival crews onstage at rap battles in dirty, underground clubs near 8 Mile road. Getting a job in a factory and living in a trailer with my mother were also a part of the plan.
I have recently begun to share my immense talent with some of my new friends here in Japan. So far, I have performed for audiences in Iwakuni, Yanai and Mine (and by audiences I mean 2 or 3 people at most. I like the feel of more intimate performances, where interaction with the audience is possible). I also have done a couple of phone shows--you know, rapped for someone over the phone. Currently, "Ain't No Fun" and "Ain't Nuthin' But a G Thang" are the most requested songs (actually, they are the only songs currently available for performace), but i am hoping to add a few more numbers to the rotation for my 2004 tour. I have been working on "Lose Yourself" (which I performed while at karaoke with my English teachers last month. I think after they got over their initial confusion over my choice of song, they were very impressed with my obvious rap skills) and was also thinking it might be fun to add a little OutKast as well. Perhaps the one about how "we love dees hos (hoes?)? That might be fun. I actually have "Rosa Parks" down. And I would like to master that Louis Logic song about all the stages of alcoholism and going to the Betty Ford Clinic as I feel like the subject matter will really hit home with many of my fans. Any other suggestions of songs?
Ok. Time to eat.
I have recently begun to share my immense talent with some of my new friends here in Japan. So far, I have performed for audiences in Iwakuni, Yanai and Mine (and by audiences I mean 2 or 3 people at most. I like the feel of more intimate performances, where interaction with the audience is possible). I also have done a couple of phone shows--you know, rapped for someone over the phone. Currently, "Ain't No Fun" and "Ain't Nuthin' But a G Thang" are the most requested songs (actually, they are the only songs currently available for performace), but i am hoping to add a few more numbers to the rotation for my 2004 tour. I have been working on "Lose Yourself" (which I performed while at karaoke with my English teachers last month. I think after they got over their initial confusion over my choice of song, they were very impressed with my obvious rap skills) and was also thinking it might be fun to add a little OutKast as well. Perhaps the one about how "we love dees hos (hoes?)? That might be fun. I actually have "Rosa Parks" down. And I would like to master that Louis Logic song about all the stages of alcoholism and going to the Betty Ford Clinic as I feel like the subject matter will really hit home with many of my fans. Any other suggestions of songs?
Ok. Time to eat.
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
In the midst of cleaning out my school bag, I came across a couple of literary gems that I believe must be shared with the general public. All of them happen to have been written by a fantastic up and coming new writer (me) and deal directly with the holiday season at hand. I have given many readings of each, and for non-native speakers of English, I have been known to add gestures, drawings and photographs to aid in their understanding. These have been noted within the text. Please enjoy.
Christmas in America
by Abra Cooper
Part 1
One of my favorite holidays is Christmas. It is on December 25th (use finger to make a "2" and "5" in the air). Every year my family celebrates Christmas the same. Starting the day after Thanksgiving, we start doing our Christmas shopping. When I was younger, I used to go to the shopping center and visit Santa Claus and tell him what I wanted him to bring me for Christmas. Sometimes, my family goes(sweeping arm motion) to downtown Portland to watch the lighting of the big Christmas tree(raise arm to indicate size of tree). We also like to drive around(grip and turn imaginary steering wheel) and look at Christmas lights on all the houses. On many nights, people singing Christmas songs stop at our house(extend arm forward, palm facing audience) and sing for us. These people are called carolers. Two weeks before Christmas, my family buys a Christmas tree(draw outline of tree in air with finger). In America, most of the trees are real trees and they are very tall(show photo of author hugging Christmas tree). We put lights, shiny balls (make ball shape with hands) and other decorations on the tree. We have our tree until New Year's Day.
Part 2
When it is Christmas Eve, December 24th (draw "2" and "4" in air with finger), my family goes (sweeping arm motion) to my grandmother's house. We eat a small dinner together (feign eating) and then go back (sweeping arm motion) to our house. Sometimes, we watch a Christmas movie like Miracle on 34th Street before we go (sweeping arm motion) to bed (place hands together and lower head to rest on them). We also put up our stockings by the fireplace (draw stockings and fireplace on board). When my brother, sister and I were younger (lower hand to knee to indicate childhood), we used to put out milk and cookies for Santa Claus to eat (feign eating). The next morning, Christmas Day, we all wake up early to open our presents. Everyone opens their presents (feign unwrapping of parcel) and looks in their stockings (point to drawing on board). We always give a present to our dog too, like a new toy (show picture of dead dog Sparky with what was actually a Hanukkah present. Pause for exclamations from audience over cuteness of dead dog). Then we eat (feign eating) a big breakfast together (draw circle in air to indicate togetherness of family). After breakfast, we go back (sweeping arm motion) to my grandmother's house again, and open more presents (feign unwrapping of parcel). My aunts, uncles and cousins are there too. In America, Christmas is a time for family. At 2 (show 2 fingers) or 3 (show 3 fingers) in the afternoon, we eat (feign eating) a big (stretch arms out wide to indicate size) Christmas dinner. There is always ham, fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Christmas dinner is one of my favorite parts of Christmas.
See? Am definitely fantastic up and coming writer. You won't believe the reaction I get when I tell what actually amounts to a bunch of lies about Christmas in the home of a Jewish family. Ok, so usually I just get a bunch of blank stares, but once the teacher translates the story into Japanese, the audience gets crazy. I also have composed a one page, single spaced essay entitled "The Miracle of Hanukkah" that my more advanced readers have enjoyed. "The Miracle of Hanukkah" recounts the rule of "the evil Syrian Antiochus" and how the "strong Macabee army" drove him out of Israel, as well as the relighting of the "eternal flame" and how "to everyone's amazement and happiness" the small amount of oil lasted for 8 days. Oh, and in a move that would make Big Steve very happy, I end the story by declaring that the celebration of Hanukkah signifies the need for religious freedom in this cold, cold world.
Oh, and I thought I would go ahead and warn everybody now: the Abra you knew and loved before she left for Japan no longer exists. I have become accustomed to a certain way of life here in Japan and am expecting that you will treat me in the manner in which I am treated here. For example:
1) Please address me only as Abra Sensei or Cooper san. i will not respond if you choose to do otherwise.
2) When I enter a room, stand and applaud. You may be seated once I am seated.
3) After spending time with me, please stand and give a short speech explaining why you had fun with me that day or what I have inspired you to do (ie study English, visit America, etc).
4) When dining, I must sit at the head of the table. When riding in your car, I must sit behind the driver, in the place of honor.
5) Stare at me and exclaim over my blue eyes if you happen to bump into me in the street.
6) Ask me repeatedly what exactly I have in that mysterious water bottle I always carry with me, then laugh hysterically when i tell you it is sake.
Yes, if everyone keeps this list in mind, I shall suffer very little from reverse culture shock.
5 days until Thailand!
Christmas in America
by Abra Cooper
Part 1
One of my favorite holidays is Christmas. It is on December 25th (use finger to make a "2" and "5" in the air). Every year my family celebrates Christmas the same. Starting the day after Thanksgiving, we start doing our Christmas shopping. When I was younger, I used to go to the shopping center and visit Santa Claus and tell him what I wanted him to bring me for Christmas. Sometimes, my family goes(sweeping arm motion) to downtown Portland to watch the lighting of the big Christmas tree(raise arm to indicate size of tree). We also like to drive around(grip and turn imaginary steering wheel) and look at Christmas lights on all the houses. On many nights, people singing Christmas songs stop at our house(extend arm forward, palm facing audience) and sing for us. These people are called carolers. Two weeks before Christmas, my family buys a Christmas tree(draw outline of tree in air with finger). In America, most of the trees are real trees and they are very tall(show photo of author hugging Christmas tree). We put lights, shiny balls (make ball shape with hands) and other decorations on the tree. We have our tree until New Year's Day.
Part 2
When it is Christmas Eve, December 24th (draw "2" and "4" in air with finger), my family goes (sweeping arm motion) to my grandmother's house. We eat a small dinner together (feign eating) and then go back (sweeping arm motion) to our house. Sometimes, we watch a Christmas movie like Miracle on 34th Street before we go (sweeping arm motion) to bed (place hands together and lower head to rest on them). We also put up our stockings by the fireplace (draw stockings and fireplace on board). When my brother, sister and I were younger (lower hand to knee to indicate childhood), we used to put out milk and cookies for Santa Claus to eat (feign eating). The next morning, Christmas Day, we all wake up early to open our presents. Everyone opens their presents (feign unwrapping of parcel) and looks in their stockings (point to drawing on board). We always give a present to our dog too, like a new toy (show picture of dead dog Sparky with what was actually a Hanukkah present. Pause for exclamations from audience over cuteness of dead dog). Then we eat (feign eating) a big breakfast together (draw circle in air to indicate togetherness of family). After breakfast, we go back (sweeping arm motion) to my grandmother's house again, and open more presents (feign unwrapping of parcel). My aunts, uncles and cousins are there too. In America, Christmas is a time for family. At 2 (show 2 fingers) or 3 (show 3 fingers) in the afternoon, we eat (feign eating) a big (stretch arms out wide to indicate size) Christmas dinner. There is always ham, fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Christmas dinner is one of my favorite parts of Christmas.
See? Am definitely fantastic up and coming writer. You won't believe the reaction I get when I tell what actually amounts to a bunch of lies about Christmas in the home of a Jewish family. Ok, so usually I just get a bunch of blank stares, but once the teacher translates the story into Japanese, the audience gets crazy. I also have composed a one page, single spaced essay entitled "The Miracle of Hanukkah" that my more advanced readers have enjoyed. "The Miracle of Hanukkah" recounts the rule of "the evil Syrian Antiochus" and how the "strong Macabee army" drove him out of Israel, as well as the relighting of the "eternal flame" and how "to everyone's amazement and happiness" the small amount of oil lasted for 8 days. Oh, and in a move that would make Big Steve very happy, I end the story by declaring that the celebration of Hanukkah signifies the need for religious freedom in this cold, cold world.
Oh, and I thought I would go ahead and warn everybody now: the Abra you knew and loved before she left for Japan no longer exists. I have become accustomed to a certain way of life here in Japan and am expecting that you will treat me in the manner in which I am treated here. For example:
1) Please address me only as Abra Sensei or Cooper san. i will not respond if you choose to do otherwise.
2) When I enter a room, stand and applaud. You may be seated once I am seated.
3) After spending time with me, please stand and give a short speech explaining why you had fun with me that day or what I have inspired you to do (ie study English, visit America, etc).
4) When dining, I must sit at the head of the table. When riding in your car, I must sit behind the driver, in the place of honor.
5) Stare at me and exclaim over my blue eyes if you happen to bump into me in the street.
6) Ask me repeatedly what exactly I have in that mysterious water bottle I always carry with me, then laugh hysterically when i tell you it is sake.
Yes, if everyone keeps this list in mind, I shall suffer very little from reverse culture shock.
5 days until Thailand!
First of all, I would like to announce that I ate all my school lunch today again! I think either the food is getting better or I have finally realized how embarrasing my stomach growling is and have subconsciously taken the steps needed to curb it.
Secondly, I just met a group of the nicest people here in Mine at a meeting of the city's Soroptimists International club. I had been told a few weeks ago that I was to attend one of their meetings today, where I would participate in a flower arranging activity and tea ceremnoy. Annoyed that this would cut into my sitting around the apartment time, I had been dreading the event. However, I had the best time. Upon my arrival, one of the club's officers sat down with me and chatted in English with me about her trip to Portland 30 years ago and how much she had enjoyed the northwest. Her English was excellent (keep in mind my definition of "excellent English" is probably quite different from yours after my experience here). Then I was given a standing ovation by the rest of the club memners merely for entering the room! The flower arranging was fun; we used a German technique involving spruce twigs and flowers, along with some Christmas themed candles and charms, and the instructor told me I was quite good. Seriously, who knew I was so artistically talented? I mean first the Taiko and now flower arranging? You are going to see a whole new artsy Abra when I come back home, that's for sure. Anyway, after flower arranging was over, I was delighted to discover that I wan't going to have to kneel and bow and do all those other tea ceremony things because it wasn't tea ceremony time, but tea drinking and eating time. We dined on cake from one of the most famous shops in the area and the women kept inviting me to visit their homes. My translator even showed me a picture she had brought of her 30 years ago in Portland. After the feasting was over, we all sang "Silent Night" together and then we were told to form a circle. Presents were passed out, pictures were taken and all the women kept thanking me for coming to their meeting. I tried to tell them that, no, I was the one who should be thanking them. Just look at the list of the gifts I was presented with:
giant loaf of homemade bread
two tubs of homemade jam
three pieces of the fancy cake (a piece of which I am currently eating)
fancy soaps
large tins of coffee and tea
homemade Christmas decorations
a larger, fancier flower arrangement similar to the one I made
various household goods
a new apron that I wore during the flower arranging
There was so much stuff, I had to have help carrying it all to my car, where more pictures were taken and I was told again and again to call them if I ever needed anything at all. I am not a cryer (crier?), but their overwhelming hospitality had me close to tears. I mean, none of these women had ever met me, but they spent a lot of time and money on me today, and just seemed so happy to have me at their meeting. They were just so generous. To be honest, it is encounters like these, and not anything to do with my job or the schools, that make me question my almost certain decision not to recontract for another year here. I just hope the women understood how happy and grateful I was for their friendliness and generosity.
ok, well it is just about time for my adult class. I thought last week was the year's last, so I have already exhausted my supply of Christmas and Hanukkah activities. If I have extra time though, you can never go wrong with a little Christmas words hangman.
Secondly, I just met a group of the nicest people here in Mine at a meeting of the city's Soroptimists International club. I had been told a few weeks ago that I was to attend one of their meetings today, where I would participate in a flower arranging activity and tea ceremnoy. Annoyed that this would cut into my sitting around the apartment time, I had been dreading the event. However, I had the best time. Upon my arrival, one of the club's officers sat down with me and chatted in English with me about her trip to Portland 30 years ago and how much she had enjoyed the northwest. Her English was excellent (keep in mind my definition of "excellent English" is probably quite different from yours after my experience here). Then I was given a standing ovation by the rest of the club memners merely for entering the room! The flower arranging was fun; we used a German technique involving spruce twigs and flowers, along with some Christmas themed candles and charms, and the instructor told me I was quite good. Seriously, who knew I was so artistically talented? I mean first the Taiko and now flower arranging? You are going to see a whole new artsy Abra when I come back home, that's for sure. Anyway, after flower arranging was over, I was delighted to discover that I wan't going to have to kneel and bow and do all those other tea ceremony things because it wasn't tea ceremony time, but tea drinking and eating time. We dined on cake from one of the most famous shops in the area and the women kept inviting me to visit their homes. My translator even showed me a picture she had brought of her 30 years ago in Portland. After the feasting was over, we all sang "Silent Night" together and then we were told to form a circle. Presents were passed out, pictures were taken and all the women kept thanking me for coming to their meeting. I tried to tell them that, no, I was the one who should be thanking them. Just look at the list of the gifts I was presented with:
giant loaf of homemade bread
two tubs of homemade jam
three pieces of the fancy cake (a piece of which I am currently eating)
fancy soaps
large tins of coffee and tea
homemade Christmas decorations
a larger, fancier flower arrangement similar to the one I made
various household goods
a new apron that I wore during the flower arranging
There was so much stuff, I had to have help carrying it all to my car, where more pictures were taken and I was told again and again to call them if I ever needed anything at all. I am not a cryer (crier?), but their overwhelming hospitality had me close to tears. I mean, none of these women had ever met me, but they spent a lot of time and money on me today, and just seemed so happy to have me at their meeting. They were just so generous. To be honest, it is encounters like these, and not anything to do with my job or the schools, that make me question my almost certain decision not to recontract for another year here. I just hope the women understood how happy and grateful I was for their friendliness and generosity.
ok, well it is just about time for my adult class. I thought last week was the year's last, so I have already exhausted my supply of Christmas and Hanukkah activities. If I have extra time though, you can never go wrong with a little Christmas words hangman.
Sunday, December 14, 2003
In the 5 days or so since the publication of my last entry, two amazing and wonderful moracles have occured in the life of Abra Cooper. And how fitting that I would experience these events during this, the season of miracles! The first miracle was that I managed to eat all of my school lunch two days in a row last week. This may not seem that miraculous, but given the fact that I had yet to accomplish this feat, coupled with the horribleness of the school lunch food and my general pickiness, i still am in shock that it happened. The second miracle happened just this morning during forth period, right before lunch, in the classroom of 1-2 at Isa elementary school: I got uncomfortably hot in the classroom. With a giant heater filling the room with sweet, sweet warm air--and my lungs with deadly, deadly stinky gas--I suddenly found myself unzippng my fleece to cool off, and a few moments later, letting down the zipper on my sweater. Wow.
I spent this weekend attending not one, not two but three Christmas parties. For the past fews weeks, I had actually been thinking quite a lot of how much fun and festive it would be, and how it might help to brighten up my first holiday season away from home, if there were some Christmas parties to go to. In the midst of my fantasizing about the collection of holiday wear from J. Crew and sipping egg nog in front of a roaring fire somewhere, I somehow found myself on the invite list to a Christmas party each night of the past weekend. A brief rundown of each party...
1) Yamaguchi JET Christmas party, Yanai Friday Night
After driving 2.5 hours with Selene in Toby, my beloved car, I spent the next four hours boozing with friends and being subjected to party games, such as the one where you must pass a balloon using only your legs from one person to the next. Other highlights included rapping for various homeys, jumping up and down and squealing about Thailand every five minues with Selene, Jo and Megan, quoting Old School for about a hour with Shelli, another faithful fan, and playing a drinking game with a wasted Japanese man. He was about to kiss me, when one of my friends was like, "Hey, he's married! And his wife is right over there!". I jumped up and yelled at him, not just for being married but also for drinking most of my beer, and later, after he passed out, was about to pour a glass of water on his head, but his friends stopped me. Sadly, there was no egg nog at the party.
2) Social Education Building party, Mine Saturday Night
I was invited to this party because the sponsor was the building where I teach my adult English class. It lasted approximately 3 hours and I spent most of the time eating, as there were both sashimi and sushi present. The other partygoers at my table had a couple pieces each and called it a night, but I just took advantage of their small stomachs and put away everything they couldn't. I had to give a short speech about why everyone should come and enjoy English class, won a Christmas wreath and got to watch demonstrations by all the different groups that hold classes and activities at the vuilding. My personal favorite was the final one. It began normally enough; a band played a rock song and all the Japanese started clapping their hands completely out of time with the song. Then, all of the sudden a young girl dressed in a Santa costume (perhaps the "Santy Lady" outfit that can be bought at Nafco that Meagan and I ogled one evening and Meagan even considered buying) burst into the room and started doing this crazy, jerky dance all over the stage area for about two minutes while everyone looked at each other in confusion. Finally, the girl grabbed the mic, and although her dancing never improved, her voice was actually really good. Again, no egg nog.
3) Taiko Christmas party, Shuho-cho Sunday
So I am not holding anyone in suspense, I will go ahead and say it now: there was no egg nog at this one either. After playing a show at the Yamaguchi International festival earlier in the day (at which the only two mistakes I made were not my fault, but instead that of the ten year old "girl with funny hair style" who I sat next to and copied what she did, leading me to copy her mistakes as well), we all headed back to Shuho to get down and talk about drums. Actually there was no getting down or drum talk, but it was still a good time. Party games were again enjoyed by all, and the performance involving group members in various stages of cross dress, someone dressed as a cow and another airing of the "Santy Lady" suit and shaving cream was bizarre, epecially when usually dignified, Shuho school principals, completely wasted, started dancing on the stage as well.
So three parties were had, many party games were enjoyed and many drunken people were laughed at. All in all, it was a pretty good weekend. Tomorrow is my last day of junior high school until January 9th. In honor of this event, I have actually planned a few activities for my final Christmas themed lesson. Oh, and for those of you who are interested in my growing wardrobe of cheap fleece clothing, I purchased a second fleece suit from Fugi Friday. It was a good thing I got it when I did as I was checking out the supply yesterday and only one remained. In bright blue and red stripes, I have never looked so attractive.
Hey Namsie, how do I make links to other sites??
I spent this weekend attending not one, not two but three Christmas parties. For the past fews weeks, I had actually been thinking quite a lot of how much fun and festive it would be, and how it might help to brighten up my first holiday season away from home, if there were some Christmas parties to go to. In the midst of my fantasizing about the collection of holiday wear from J. Crew and sipping egg nog in front of a roaring fire somewhere, I somehow found myself on the invite list to a Christmas party each night of the past weekend. A brief rundown of each party...
1) Yamaguchi JET Christmas party, Yanai Friday Night
After driving 2.5 hours with Selene in Toby, my beloved car, I spent the next four hours boozing with friends and being subjected to party games, such as the one where you must pass a balloon using only your legs from one person to the next. Other highlights included rapping for various homeys, jumping up and down and squealing about Thailand every five minues with Selene, Jo and Megan, quoting Old School for about a hour with Shelli, another faithful fan, and playing a drinking game with a wasted Japanese man. He was about to kiss me, when one of my friends was like, "Hey, he's married! And his wife is right over there!". I jumped up and yelled at him, not just for being married but also for drinking most of my beer, and later, after he passed out, was about to pour a glass of water on his head, but his friends stopped me. Sadly, there was no egg nog at the party.
2) Social Education Building party, Mine Saturday Night
I was invited to this party because the sponsor was the building where I teach my adult English class. It lasted approximately 3 hours and I spent most of the time eating, as there were both sashimi and sushi present. The other partygoers at my table had a couple pieces each and called it a night, but I just took advantage of their small stomachs and put away everything they couldn't. I had to give a short speech about why everyone should come and enjoy English class, won a Christmas wreath and got to watch demonstrations by all the different groups that hold classes and activities at the vuilding. My personal favorite was the final one. It began normally enough; a band played a rock song and all the Japanese started clapping their hands completely out of time with the song. Then, all of the sudden a young girl dressed in a Santa costume (perhaps the "Santy Lady" outfit that can be bought at Nafco that Meagan and I ogled one evening and Meagan even considered buying) burst into the room and started doing this crazy, jerky dance all over the stage area for about two minutes while everyone looked at each other in confusion. Finally, the girl grabbed the mic, and although her dancing never improved, her voice was actually really good. Again, no egg nog.
3) Taiko Christmas party, Shuho-cho Sunday
So I am not holding anyone in suspense, I will go ahead and say it now: there was no egg nog at this one either. After playing a show at the Yamaguchi International festival earlier in the day (at which the only two mistakes I made were not my fault, but instead that of the ten year old "girl with funny hair style" who I sat next to and copied what she did, leading me to copy her mistakes as well), we all headed back to Shuho to get down and talk about drums. Actually there was no getting down or drum talk, but it was still a good time. Party games were again enjoyed by all, and the performance involving group members in various stages of cross dress, someone dressed as a cow and another airing of the "Santy Lady" suit and shaving cream was bizarre, epecially when usually dignified, Shuho school principals, completely wasted, started dancing on the stage as well.
So three parties were had, many party games were enjoyed and many drunken people were laughed at. All in all, it was a pretty good weekend. Tomorrow is my last day of junior high school until January 9th. In honor of this event, I have actually planned a few activities for my final Christmas themed lesson. Oh, and for those of you who are interested in my growing wardrobe of cheap fleece clothing, I purchased a second fleece suit from Fugi Friday. It was a good thing I got it when I did as I was checking out the supply yesterday and only one remained. In bright blue and red stripes, I have never looked so attractive.
Hey Namsie, how do I make links to other sites??
Tuesday, December 09, 2003
Sometimes I worry that I might be manic depressive. Ok, that might just be my slight hypochondria asserting itself yet again, but seriously, being in Japan can sometimes be an emotional roller coaster. I feel like I am usually pretty level when it comes to my emotions, like I never really stray too far from somehwere in the middle on the emotions spectrum. But so far today--and it is only 2pm--I have been up and down, high and low, happy and sad, cheerful and grumpy more times than I can count. For example...
7:50- My alarm goes off and I immediately start desperately wishing I was not in Japan but instead back at school where i was never so stupid to have any committments that would force me to get up before 9. I was so stupid to graduate, so stupid!
7:51- It's not freezing this morning! I am up and moving around and I can't see my breath! It's a miracle! I am energized by the warmth and even find time to eat breakfast before work. I love Japan!
8:30- Hmmm... Yesterday I received my schedule through April and had been very excited to learn that I would have a month long spring break from mid-March until mid-April. However, triangles mean office days, not holidays, so instead of traveling--or maybe just sleeping in and renting lots of movies--I will be stuck in the office for a month with nothing to do. Why am I here? Why is my job so boring?
8:45- Things just got worse. At the beginning of January, there will be four days during which I can either come to the office or go elsewhere to "study Japanese culture". The catch: I cannot travel during this time and if I want to spend my daytime hours in nearby towns with my friends, I must give my supervisor the address of where I will be. They have got to be joking! This is just like in high school when Big steve and Sarah would force me to give them the exact location of where my friends and I would be going, which then led to them to think I was really into bowling, since I was supposedly going every weekend, since that's what I always told them I was doing when I was really going to drink my Special Brew or Boones at some party. Still, I understood why my parents made me do this. I was, after all, only 16 or 17. Yeah, and now I am 23. I will not be controlled. Japan sucks. Let's see...less than 8 months until I return to the land of the free.
10:30- At an elementary school. Being forced to drink coffee. Can feel the caffeine (devil's drug) entering my bloostream. Feeling very sick.
10:32- Yum. These little pastries are good, and surprisingly filled with cream, not beans. Japan has such good food. Am so happy to have the opportunity to try so many interesting and new dishes here.
10:33- I wish I had some more pastries. Oh, the principal doesn't like his? Maybe he will give them to me!
10:34- He won't. Selfish man. I would gladly give him my coffee. Typical. How much longer until I get to go back and sit in the office?
10:45- These kids are so cute! And well-behaved! Some times I really want my own little Japanese child to keep as a toy of sorts. One between the ages of 4 and 9. And while the school is freezing, it is bright and cheery, and some of the teachers speak English. Elementary school visits are so fun! Why do I always dread them? I must be crazy. Too bad I can't do more of them.
12:30- Oh my. I think this lunch might actually be edible. I can even identify almost everything on my plate. And the kids are asking me questions. This is great. Am back in my favorite role of educator, sharing my knowledge of the western world with my eager young pupils.
1:30- Time to return to the office. As I am driven back, I feel that familiar sense of boredom seeping back in.
1:45- No new emails, at least no new emails of interest. Can't read my book because I am almost done and if I finish too quickly I will have absolutely nothing to keep me occupied until 4:30. What to do, what to do... Of course. I will make a mental list of all the differences between the US and Japan. This will be totally productive and allow me to ponder important international and cultural issues.
1:50- I miss my country, a land where squat toilets don't exist, girls aren't forced to wear skirts and freeze in unheated classrooms, ATMs are open more than 7 hours a day and on the weekends and everyone looks different, so having blue eyes and body fat doesn't make you a freak. This country is so messed up. I am really homesick.
1:52- But takoyaki is so good and I am getting paid to do nothing. Japan is perhaps not so bad after all. Yeah, actually this is a pretty great place.
See? Emotional roller coaster. Hopefully, I won't develop an ulcer from all the emotional stress. Although, then again, if I did, then I would have a really good excuse to turn down coffee at the office and schools without getting weird looks from everyone. It's something to think about. 12 days until I meet Francisco (or Sven, Rafe, Esteban...) on the beaches of Thailand!
7:50- My alarm goes off and I immediately start desperately wishing I was not in Japan but instead back at school where i was never so stupid to have any committments that would force me to get up before 9. I was so stupid to graduate, so stupid!
7:51- It's not freezing this morning! I am up and moving around and I can't see my breath! It's a miracle! I am energized by the warmth and even find time to eat breakfast before work. I love Japan!
8:30- Hmmm... Yesterday I received my schedule through April and had been very excited to learn that I would have a month long spring break from mid-March until mid-April. However, triangles mean office days, not holidays, so instead of traveling--or maybe just sleeping in and renting lots of movies--I will be stuck in the office for a month with nothing to do. Why am I here? Why is my job so boring?
8:45- Things just got worse. At the beginning of January, there will be four days during which I can either come to the office or go elsewhere to "study Japanese culture". The catch: I cannot travel during this time and if I want to spend my daytime hours in nearby towns with my friends, I must give my supervisor the address of where I will be. They have got to be joking! This is just like in high school when Big steve and Sarah would force me to give them the exact location of where my friends and I would be going, which then led to them to think I was really into bowling, since I was supposedly going every weekend, since that's what I always told them I was doing when I was really going to drink my Special Brew or Boones at some party. Still, I understood why my parents made me do this. I was, after all, only 16 or 17. Yeah, and now I am 23. I will not be controlled. Japan sucks. Let's see...less than 8 months until I return to the land of the free.
10:30- At an elementary school. Being forced to drink coffee. Can feel the caffeine (devil's drug) entering my bloostream. Feeling very sick.
10:32- Yum. These little pastries are good, and surprisingly filled with cream, not beans. Japan has such good food. Am so happy to have the opportunity to try so many interesting and new dishes here.
10:33- I wish I had some more pastries. Oh, the principal doesn't like his? Maybe he will give them to me!
10:34- He won't. Selfish man. I would gladly give him my coffee. Typical. How much longer until I get to go back and sit in the office?
10:45- These kids are so cute! And well-behaved! Some times I really want my own little Japanese child to keep as a toy of sorts. One between the ages of 4 and 9. And while the school is freezing, it is bright and cheery, and some of the teachers speak English. Elementary school visits are so fun! Why do I always dread them? I must be crazy. Too bad I can't do more of them.
12:30- Oh my. I think this lunch might actually be edible. I can even identify almost everything on my plate. And the kids are asking me questions. This is great. Am back in my favorite role of educator, sharing my knowledge of the western world with my eager young pupils.
1:30- Time to return to the office. As I am driven back, I feel that familiar sense of boredom seeping back in.
1:45- No new emails, at least no new emails of interest. Can't read my book because I am almost done and if I finish too quickly I will have absolutely nothing to keep me occupied until 4:30. What to do, what to do... Of course. I will make a mental list of all the differences between the US and Japan. This will be totally productive and allow me to ponder important international and cultural issues.
1:50- I miss my country, a land where squat toilets don't exist, girls aren't forced to wear skirts and freeze in unheated classrooms, ATMs are open more than 7 hours a day and on the weekends and everyone looks different, so having blue eyes and body fat doesn't make you a freak. This country is so messed up. I am really homesick.
1:52- But takoyaki is so good and I am getting paid to do nothing. Japan is perhaps not so bad after all. Yeah, actually this is a pretty great place.
See? Emotional roller coaster. Hopefully, I won't develop an ulcer from all the emotional stress. Although, then again, if I did, then I would have a really good excuse to turn down coffee at the office and schools without getting weird looks from everyone. It's something to think about. 12 days until I meet Francisco (or Sven, Rafe, Esteban...) on the beaches of Thailand!
Sunday, December 07, 2003
I was about to write a detailed entry about my somewhat triumphant return to the US this past weekend (and by US I mean the Marine base in Iwakuni) but after reading Nam's description of a phone call placed while surrounded by marines in one of their bars on Friday night, a call I made while relatively sober (although one would think I was the opposite because of the difficulty I had in explaining the strange scene unfolding in front of my own two eyes to a bewildered Christine), I don't think I will bother. It is just too difficult to explain what I observed in Marineville, and too time consuming to put into writing my revelations about the US Armed Forces that followed. Too, too difficult. But I will make a brief list of highlights for those interested:
- Meagan forgetting to lock the bathroom door and being interrupted while in squat position by an unassuming marine.
-Being repeatedly asked if I was military or dependant and then being laughed at and told I was lying when I said neither.
-Being told I was beautiful by approximately ten different, possibly very horny guys. This in the span of about one hour. The government should really work on getting enlisting more females because the marines I met were definitely desperate for them.
-Telling a Japanese woman that it was very wrong, and considered "dame" in our country to pinch someone's fat, and then made her say "sumimasen" to Meagan. Another example of my mastery of the difficult task of fostering cultural exchange and understanding.
-Eating fried mushrooms, deep fried cheesesticks, chicken strips and buying tylenol cold and sinus while on base. I know, I know--I doesn't sound all that exciting, but it really was one of the weekend's highlights.
I spent most of yesterday recovering from lack of sleep as we had had to catch an early train back Saturday morning. In fact, have spent all day Sunday recovering as well. Ok, I have spent all day Sunday being lazy. I do have quite a busy week coming up, however, so I need to get all the rest I can. Tuesday I have my last adult English class of the year, and have decided that since I am being forced to detail how I celebrate Christmas in "Amerika" Hanukkah is and just exactly how it is celebrated at the Cooper house.
Hanukkah at the Cooper house...Brings back so many warm, fuzzy memories. Opening up much-wanted gifts. Eating latkes with Brian and Jolina as we tell them the story of the triumph of our people (yet another example of Abra-initiated cultural exchange. I am such an educator). Watching Sparky and then Caddie unwrapping, with a little assitance from their masters, their assorted new toys and doggie biscuits. Singing "Rock of Ages" with my vocally-talented family. Of course, there is also the usual smattering of not-so-good memories. Big Steve insisting on filming every single night of the holiday and yelling at us when our prayers were not recited perfectly or when we failed to mention at the end of the nightly retelling of the story of hanukkah what we think the meaning of hanukkah is (the only acceptable answer being it is symbolic of religious freedom and no other answer should be voiced or Big Steve might have a temper tantrum, which then delays the opening of the presents). The whole family arguing over the correct words of the prayers. Getting yelled at for gettng melted wax on the dining room table. Lighting my hair on fire. Still, I am really sad to be missing Hanukkah this year. At least when I would light the candles at school, i had Emily and Zandra to join in the fun (and to educate. Like I said, I never miss an opportunity for cultural exchange. Never). And I didn't miss out on any of the yelling and tears that I sometimes associate with Hanukkah at the Cooper house because of Malia's insistance on singing Christmas songs during the ceremony. Accusations of anti-semitism took care of that. So we'll see how this year goes. I am considering designing a menorah out of construction paper to take to adult class, sticking yellow "flames" onto the "candles" as they are "lit". And maybe I will be able to interest my friends in a little Hanukkah celebration while in Thailand. After all, Selene did ask me today if my family puts up a "Hanukkah tree". They do have Jews in New Zealand, right? Anyway, I will deifnitely keep everyone posted.
- Meagan forgetting to lock the bathroom door and being interrupted while in squat position by an unassuming marine.
-Being repeatedly asked if I was military or dependant and then being laughed at and told I was lying when I said neither.
-Being told I was beautiful by approximately ten different, possibly very horny guys. This in the span of about one hour. The government should really work on getting enlisting more females because the marines I met were definitely desperate for them.
-Telling a Japanese woman that it was very wrong, and considered "dame" in our country to pinch someone's fat, and then made her say "sumimasen" to Meagan. Another example of my mastery of the difficult task of fostering cultural exchange and understanding.
-Eating fried mushrooms, deep fried cheesesticks, chicken strips and buying tylenol cold and sinus while on base. I know, I know--I doesn't sound all that exciting, but it really was one of the weekend's highlights.
I spent most of yesterday recovering from lack of sleep as we had had to catch an early train back Saturday morning. In fact, have spent all day Sunday recovering as well. Ok, I have spent all day Sunday being lazy. I do have quite a busy week coming up, however, so I need to get all the rest I can. Tuesday I have my last adult English class of the year, and have decided that since I am being forced to detail how I celebrate Christmas in "Amerika" Hanukkah is and just exactly how it is celebrated at the Cooper house.
Hanukkah at the Cooper house...Brings back so many warm, fuzzy memories. Opening up much-wanted gifts. Eating latkes with Brian and Jolina as we tell them the story of the triumph of our people (yet another example of Abra-initiated cultural exchange. I am such an educator). Watching Sparky and then Caddie unwrapping, with a little assitance from their masters, their assorted new toys and doggie biscuits. Singing "Rock of Ages" with my vocally-talented family. Of course, there is also the usual smattering of not-so-good memories. Big Steve insisting on filming every single night of the holiday and yelling at us when our prayers were not recited perfectly or when we failed to mention at the end of the nightly retelling of the story of hanukkah what we think the meaning of hanukkah is (the only acceptable answer being it is symbolic of religious freedom and no other answer should be voiced or Big Steve might have a temper tantrum, which then delays the opening of the presents). The whole family arguing over the correct words of the prayers. Getting yelled at for gettng melted wax on the dining room table. Lighting my hair on fire. Still, I am really sad to be missing Hanukkah this year. At least when I would light the candles at school, i had Emily and Zandra to join in the fun (and to educate. Like I said, I never miss an opportunity for cultural exchange. Never). And I didn't miss out on any of the yelling and tears that I sometimes associate with Hanukkah at the Cooper house because of Malia's insistance on singing Christmas songs during the ceremony. Accusations of anti-semitism took care of that. So we'll see how this year goes. I am considering designing a menorah out of construction paper to take to adult class, sticking yellow "flames" onto the "candles" as they are "lit". And maybe I will be able to interest my friends in a little Hanukkah celebration while in Thailand. After all, Selene did ask me today if my family puts up a "Hanukkah tree". They do have Jews in New Zealand, right? Anyway, I will deifnitely keep everyone posted.
Tuesday, December 02, 2003
Okay, I think I just mad eit possible for comments to be posted. Maybe.
So for as long as I can remember I been very intrigued--alright, obsessed, with gangsters. Not gangstas, although they have had their moments as well, but gangsters. Like, the mafia. The mob. It didn't matter whether the gangsters in questions were representing Italy, Sicily, Russia, China or Ireland or whether the operated in Vegas, New York, Eastern Europe of Hong Kong. Organized crime abd those who were apart of it just grabbed my attention. I have even harbored fantasies about moving to New Jersey and marrying into some famous Italian crime family where I could launder money and my husband Guido would buy me as many gold chains as I could fit around my neck. So, with this hisory of gangster lovin', it came as no surprise that as soon as I set foot on Japanese soil, I made it a goal to date a member of Japan's largest and most notorious crime organization, the Yakuza.
This was easier said than done. Although Mine City has a number of pachinko parlors (supposedly controlled by Yakuza) within its city limits, it is also in the middle of nowhere and I have come to the conclusion that it is doubtful there is much yakuza activity in the area. I mean, it is unlikely that the yakuza are interested in exploiting the fossil museum for profit or would be able to find any suitable attire (powerful yakuza dress only in the nicest designer black suits. I have done my research) at Mine's clothing store that my friends and I have affectionately dubbed "Thug Marshall's". Plus, I knew from talking to Anna that most of the yakuza spend their time in the Kansai region, specifically the cities of Osaka, Kyoto and Kobe. So, of course, I decided that that Osaka would be the perfect destination for my first trip out of Yamaguchi.
Although I checked out the pinkie finger of every man dressed in a sharp black suit that walked by, and kept my eyes peeled for men on motorcylcles with golf bags slung over their shoulders (the clubs are used for whacking enemies, or on those who insult their honor), I saw nothing suspicious. I saw a couple of tatoos peeking out from shirt collars or from under sleeves, but none of their owners looked particularly capable of the sort of violence the yakuza have been linked to, and most also sported dread locks and piercings, symbols of the sort of lifestyle that would probably not be too interested in the fine arts of money laundering and racketeering.
Realizing meeting a yakuza was going to be harder than I initially thought, I quickly grew discouraged and decided to take up taiko drumming as a cultural activity instead. For a few months, I fogot all about the yakuza and the snapshot I had kept in the back of mind of me in a seedy underground bar smoking cuban cigars and eating raw shark with my pinkie missing boyfriend Takashi "The Dragon" Jun began to fade.
But recently, the picture has started to become a bit clearer. For my birthday, Zandra sent me a book about the Westies, a notorious Irish gang in Manhatten in the 1960's and '70s. It was an excellent book, and by the end of the second chapter I was already thinking about Guido in Jersey again and the beautiful life waiting for me with his family there. Prhaps my love for gangter life was not dead after all. And then, at the mid year seminar on Monday, I was given two pieces of news that made me think maybe all hope is not lost with regard to me and the yakuza. First, Patrick, a thrid year ALT in Ube, who was aware of my fascination/urge to date a yakuza, reported that he had been talking to some possibly scandalous women in Ube, women who know some of the yakuza down there, and that there may be a chance a meeting of sorts could be set up between me and the yakuza in the near future. However, Patrick did mention that these women thought it would be a very dangerous idea for me to actually date any of these gangsters, so maybe that dream will have to die. After talking to Patrick, I relayed his news to my friends, one of whom--who shall remain nameless just in case one is not supposed to mention yakuza connections or publish the names of their relatives on the internet (as I am not yet a member of a crime family, I am not very well versed in the protocol regarding discussing underworld connections)--mentioned that her second cousin in Osaka is a real life yakuza! Perhaps another trip to the area should be penciled into my planner in the near future.
So now, as I sit at my desk, making Christmas word searches and thinking about, but never actually, studying Japanese, I can drift off into space, picturing Takashi "The Dragon" Jun and me, happily discussing the purchase of my own set of golf clubs, once again.
This was easier said than done. Although Mine City has a number of pachinko parlors (supposedly controlled by Yakuza) within its city limits, it is also in the middle of nowhere and I have come to the conclusion that it is doubtful there is much yakuza activity in the area. I mean, it is unlikely that the yakuza are interested in exploiting the fossil museum for profit or would be able to find any suitable attire (powerful yakuza dress only in the nicest designer black suits. I have done my research) at Mine's clothing store that my friends and I have affectionately dubbed "Thug Marshall's". Plus, I knew from talking to Anna that most of the yakuza spend their time in the Kansai region, specifically the cities of Osaka, Kyoto and Kobe. So, of course, I decided that that Osaka would be the perfect destination for my first trip out of Yamaguchi.
Although I checked out the pinkie finger of every man dressed in a sharp black suit that walked by, and kept my eyes peeled for men on motorcylcles with golf bags slung over their shoulders (the clubs are used for whacking enemies, or on those who insult their honor), I saw nothing suspicious. I saw a couple of tatoos peeking out from shirt collars or from under sleeves, but none of their owners looked particularly capable of the sort of violence the yakuza have been linked to, and most also sported dread locks and piercings, symbols of the sort of lifestyle that would probably not be too interested in the fine arts of money laundering and racketeering.
Realizing meeting a yakuza was going to be harder than I initially thought, I quickly grew discouraged and decided to take up taiko drumming as a cultural activity instead. For a few months, I fogot all about the yakuza and the snapshot I had kept in the back of mind of me in a seedy underground bar smoking cuban cigars and eating raw shark with my pinkie missing boyfriend Takashi "The Dragon" Jun began to fade.
But recently, the picture has started to become a bit clearer. For my birthday, Zandra sent me a book about the Westies, a notorious Irish gang in Manhatten in the 1960's and '70s. It was an excellent book, and by the end of the second chapter I was already thinking about Guido in Jersey again and the beautiful life waiting for me with his family there. Prhaps my love for gangter life was not dead after all. And then, at the mid year seminar on Monday, I was given two pieces of news that made me think maybe all hope is not lost with regard to me and the yakuza. First, Patrick, a thrid year ALT in Ube, who was aware of my fascination/urge to date a yakuza, reported that he had been talking to some possibly scandalous women in Ube, women who know some of the yakuza down there, and that there may be a chance a meeting of sorts could be set up between me and the yakuza in the near future. However, Patrick did mention that these women thought it would be a very dangerous idea for me to actually date any of these gangsters, so maybe that dream will have to die. After talking to Patrick, I relayed his news to my friends, one of whom--who shall remain nameless just in case one is not supposed to mention yakuza connections or publish the names of their relatives on the internet (as I am not yet a member of a crime family, I am not very well versed in the protocol regarding discussing underworld connections)--mentioned that her second cousin in Osaka is a real life yakuza! Perhaps another trip to the area should be penciled into my planner in the near future.
So now, as I sit at my desk, making Christmas word searches and thinking about, but never actually, studying Japanese, I can drift off into space, picturing Takashi "The Dragon" Jun and me, happily discussing the purchase of my own set of golf clubs, once again.
Ugh. I just had written half an entry when my haphazrd typing led to its deletion. Must have hit some delete all key. Anyway, I have finally returned to the peace and quiet of my little apartment (and my fleece suit) after a crazy and very busy three days. After a rather sad Friday night when I felt sick after one chu-hi and Meagan passed out around ten after two beers, the three of us haded to Fukuoka for what we hoped and prayed would be the night of drunkenness we had somehow missed out on the night before. After meeting up with Jo and Jocelyn at the station, we headed by bus to the Hard Rock Cafe, where after an hour and a half of waiting (which was too long for Meagan and Selene, who headed back to the hotel) Jo, Jocelyn and I feasted on guacamole and potato skins. Usually, of course, being the health conscious girl I am, I would have ordered a small salad, dresssing on the side, and a water. But realizing the amount of alcohol that would most likely be consumed in the next 8 hours, I knew that if I didn't create a "food cushion" to absorb the poison, I would be puking by midnight. The food cushion: a binge drinkers best friend.
Once my cushion was intact, I was ready to take on the cocks; in other words, I was all set to hit both the Happy and the Crazy Cock, two of Fukuoka's finest drinking and dancing establishments. Once we had paid our 2000 yen each and donned our yellow cock bracelets, all the alcochol at both cocks was at our disposal. Within an hour, I had already downed 2 Moscow Mules (Nam, am expecting to be poundng them back while discussing Stevie Nash with you once we get to Thailand), a couple beers and two shots from the shot man. I could have gladly stayed at what we affectionately named the small cock for hours, but we had to meet up with some more Yamaguchi JETs, who led us to the Voodoo Lounge, where Meagan had her breasts stroked by a drunk Japanese woman (in an attempt to help--well really in an attempt to catch the attention of a rather attractive Euro man--I somehow ended up singing a duet of "Natural Woman" with her, but in the end she had eyes only for Meagan), Selene, Jo and I invented hip new dance moves and we all watched, in shock, as another group of gaijin performed a choreographed version of "YMCA" on stage for the whole bar to see. Disturbed, we left the other JETs, except for Paul, at the club next door, and returned for some more small cock action, picking up another Yamaguchi JET on the way.
After a few more drinks, we decided we had had enough of the small cock, and it was time to move up to the Happy. This is where the night starts to get a little fuzzy. I have somehow gotten into the bad habit of attempting to make friends with every Japanese male I meet in the street. In Hiroshima, I ended up befriending a guy I decided to call Bob and inviting him to a club called El Barco for an "el drinko". Apparently, Bob just thought I was crazy, as did Steve (which is what Jo claims I called this weekend's victim). I can't help it that I am such a friendly, outgoing girl who sees the good in saying "What's up?" to every stranger she meets in Japan. I am just trying to spread a little American culture, teach the natives a few hip phrases, you know, that sort of thing. It is kind of like I am an outreach minister on the hard streets of Detroit or something. Anyway, like I said, at the big cock, things got fuzzy, but I do remember dancing with sleazy men, drinking more Moscow Mules, and initiating a very deep conversation with British Paul and NZ Selene on our favorite members of the British Royal Family. That rascal Harry is my favorite, while Paul enjoys the Queen and Selene idolizes Zara, seventh in line for the throne or something like that. Right before we left the big cock in search of food, Paul, Selene and I ordered about 9 random drinks and proceeded to pass them around in a circle until they were gone. At that point, I knew drinking more was a very bad idea.
As it was 4:30 am, the place Paul led us for some eating was closed, so we decided we had better finish our night at the small cock, where the after hours party was already in effect. For another 500 yen, we got back into the club and helped ourselves to the buffet, the smell of which sent Meagan to puke out on the balcony. I, of course, knew that by adding to the food cushion I might be able to counteract the effects of all those Moscow Mules and helped myself to a plate full of potato salad. Somehow, Paul and Selene found the strength to keep drinking, and at 5, when Meagan and I decided to try and find our hotel, they were both seated at the bar. On the way to the hotel, I continued my ministering to the good people of Japan by shouting "What's Up" to every person I saw, whether they were anywhere near me or not. I also decided to share with everyone on the street with us my list of reasons why I hate Japan. I think I came up with 7, but Meagan claims that I mentioned that the water makes me itch like 4 times.
Having found our hotel room eventually, Meagan and I were awaken by Selene bursting in with some guy named Terrance, a small cock bartender. Informing us that she had just dropped Paul of at the bus station, her and fellow island folk Terrance, who she matter of factly announced to me had a little bit of Maori in him, were going to go sleep at his apartment and she would go home later. Because we were still drunk, this all made sense to Meagan and me, so when we caught the bus home, after some McDonalds time, we were
Selene-less (but we came to our senses and checked on her later).
After spending a very hungover Sunday afternoon, one made worse after receiving sad news from home, lounging around my apartment, I headed (still hungover) to the Yamaguchi ALT Mid-Year Seminar at beautiful (and completely sterile, except for those ever-present squat toilets) Seminar Park, where most of us spent the night in a dormitory where the doors were locked at 10:30 pm and the hip place to hang out was next to the one beer vending machine, also closed at 10:30. A rather boring two days were spent discussing such fascinating topics as team-teaching, communication with your JTE, lesson planning and listening to people complain about how, for the most part, we do very little here. But then the consensus, it seemed, was that no one really wanted to do anything, so I wasn't really sure what all the complaining was about. I did, however, pick up some new game ideas, and one of my favorite JTEs was there, so we chatted. And I got to eat "Mexican food" and kick it with friends I hadn't seen for awhile, so all in all, it could have been a lot worse. The whole Thailand gang, minus Christine, was present, so we all celebrated the three weeks until we leave mark and I spent much of the keynote speech daydreaming about Francisco, the Spainard I am probably meeting on the beach. Ah, Francisco.
OK, bed time. I think I still might be recovering from Saturday. Those cocks take a lot out of you.
Once my cushion was intact, I was ready to take on the cocks; in other words, I was all set to hit both the Happy and the Crazy Cock, two of Fukuoka's finest drinking and dancing establishments. Once we had paid our 2000 yen each and donned our yellow cock bracelets, all the alcochol at both cocks was at our disposal. Within an hour, I had already downed 2 Moscow Mules (Nam, am expecting to be poundng them back while discussing Stevie Nash with you once we get to Thailand), a couple beers and two shots from the shot man. I could have gladly stayed at what we affectionately named the small cock for hours, but we had to meet up with some more Yamaguchi JETs, who led us to the Voodoo Lounge, where Meagan had her breasts stroked by a drunk Japanese woman (in an attempt to help--well really in an attempt to catch the attention of a rather attractive Euro man--I somehow ended up singing a duet of "Natural Woman" with her, but in the end she had eyes only for Meagan), Selene, Jo and I invented hip new dance moves and we all watched, in shock, as another group of gaijin performed a choreographed version of "YMCA" on stage for the whole bar to see. Disturbed, we left the other JETs, except for Paul, at the club next door, and returned for some more small cock action, picking up another Yamaguchi JET on the way.
After a few more drinks, we decided we had had enough of the small cock, and it was time to move up to the Happy. This is where the night starts to get a little fuzzy. I have somehow gotten into the bad habit of attempting to make friends with every Japanese male I meet in the street. In Hiroshima, I ended up befriending a guy I decided to call Bob and inviting him to a club called El Barco for an "el drinko". Apparently, Bob just thought I was crazy, as did Steve (which is what Jo claims I called this weekend's victim). I can't help it that I am such a friendly, outgoing girl who sees the good in saying "What's up?" to every stranger she meets in Japan. I am just trying to spread a little American culture, teach the natives a few hip phrases, you know, that sort of thing. It is kind of like I am an outreach minister on the hard streets of Detroit or something. Anyway, like I said, at the big cock, things got fuzzy, but I do remember dancing with sleazy men, drinking more Moscow Mules, and initiating a very deep conversation with British Paul and NZ Selene on our favorite members of the British Royal Family. That rascal Harry is my favorite, while Paul enjoys the Queen and Selene idolizes Zara, seventh in line for the throne or something like that. Right before we left the big cock in search of food, Paul, Selene and I ordered about 9 random drinks and proceeded to pass them around in a circle until they were gone. At that point, I knew drinking more was a very bad idea.
As it was 4:30 am, the place Paul led us for some eating was closed, so we decided we had better finish our night at the small cock, where the after hours party was already in effect. For another 500 yen, we got back into the club and helped ourselves to the buffet, the smell of which sent Meagan to puke out on the balcony. I, of course, knew that by adding to the food cushion I might be able to counteract the effects of all those Moscow Mules and helped myself to a plate full of potato salad. Somehow, Paul and Selene found the strength to keep drinking, and at 5, when Meagan and I decided to try and find our hotel, they were both seated at the bar. On the way to the hotel, I continued my ministering to the good people of Japan by shouting "What's Up" to every person I saw, whether they were anywhere near me or not. I also decided to share with everyone on the street with us my list of reasons why I hate Japan. I think I came up with 7, but Meagan claims that I mentioned that the water makes me itch like 4 times.
Having found our hotel room eventually, Meagan and I were awaken by Selene bursting in with some guy named Terrance, a small cock bartender. Informing us that she had just dropped Paul of at the bus station, her and fellow island folk Terrance, who she matter of factly announced to me had a little bit of Maori in him, were going to go sleep at his apartment and she would go home later. Because we were still drunk, this all made sense to Meagan and me, so when we caught the bus home, after some McDonalds time, we were
Selene-less (but we came to our senses and checked on her later).
After spending a very hungover Sunday afternoon, one made worse after receiving sad news from home, lounging around my apartment, I headed (still hungover) to the Yamaguchi ALT Mid-Year Seminar at beautiful (and completely sterile, except for those ever-present squat toilets) Seminar Park, where most of us spent the night in a dormitory where the doors were locked at 10:30 pm and the hip place to hang out was next to the one beer vending machine, also closed at 10:30. A rather boring two days were spent discussing such fascinating topics as team-teaching, communication with your JTE, lesson planning and listening to people complain about how, for the most part, we do very little here. But then the consensus, it seemed, was that no one really wanted to do anything, so I wasn't really sure what all the complaining was about. I did, however, pick up some new game ideas, and one of my favorite JTEs was there, so we chatted. And I got to eat "Mexican food" and kick it with friends I hadn't seen for awhile, so all in all, it could have been a lot worse. The whole Thailand gang, minus Christine, was present, so we all celebrated the three weeks until we leave mark and I spent much of the keynote speech daydreaming about Francisco, the Spainard I am probably meeting on the beach. Ah, Francisco.
OK, bed time. I think I still might be recovering from Saturday. Those cocks take a lot out of you.
