I went to Japanese class on Wednesday morning for the first time in three weeks and felt quite guilty. There were two new people in the class trying to follow what was going on, but by this point the class was too far ahead for them to catch up after one lesson. Luckily the class had been studying things I already vaguely knew so I could follow what was going on. I'm not sure 10 A.M on Wednesday is the best time for me to go to class, but never mind. After the class I left my bike at Higashi Betsuin and took the train to Inuyama. A Western guy sat opposite me drawing passengers and we played a curious game where I pretended I wasn't trying to look at his pictures and he pretended he wasn't drawing people while simultaneously trying to angle his book away from me. He won.
Iain was sitting in bed writing his blog when I got to Inuyama. It was too nice to stay inside so we headed for the river armed with wine, bread, meat, salad and a guitar. Sitting by the river is pleasant, except for the fact that the river's edge is concrete. Sitting next to the bridge on hard steps smeared with pigeon crap, I felt like I was sitting in an underpass. Iain humoured me while we walked around looking for a patch of riverbank on the Gifu side that had some grass that wasn't four feet high, or rocks, or more concrete. We failed and returned to our concrete steps. Beauty spots are carefully planned and regulated here, and the Inuyama riverbank had not been singled out for beautification. Still, it didn't stop us from drinking lots of wine over the course of 10 hours and playing every song we could think of on the guitar. I love days like that, but I didn't love my sore head on Thursday. It took ramen and a donut to make everything ok, but I felt a bit gross after the ramen and donut. This prompted another vow of healthy eating. Hmm. Well. Let's see how it goes.
Lucy has had a guitar tucked away neglected in the corner of her room since I got here. I finally got my hands on it, tuned it as best as I could, and tried to remember how to play anything. Next site - guitar tabs...
Friday, June 16, 2006
Fondue and Big Cheese
On Tuesday I went with Lucy to Donita's house for fondue. She'd made gooey chocolate fondue and we all stuffed ourselves silly on chocolate, biscuits and pieces of fruit. She'd also made some salad and naturally that had to be sampled as fondue as well. I recommend broccoli (pleasantly nutty) but would suggest you steer well clear of cheese (unless you're pregnant or have lost all of your tastebuds in an unfortunate battery-eating accident). I met a Kiwi guy who's favourite comedy was Rab C. Nesbitt (the first time I've ever met anyone from outside the UK who's seen it, let alone understood it) and a Canadian girl who's taking the ferry to China this week. It sounds like a good idea (air travel is expensive from here) but it involves spending 50 hours on a boat and I'm not sure I could stand it. I also chatted to Kiyomi again, a Japanese girl who spent a year working in London. She's taking a holiday from work at the moment.
"I have to go back on Thursday, just for one day," she said.
"Then what?"
"Then I quit." Wow. This is serious. Japanese people don't quit their jobs, they work until they die. That is, they work until they die unless they've lived abroad and have seen how the other half live. I'd spoken to Dad the other day, Dad has a cushy job (except on days where pupils are feeling violent) working in Education support and getting naughty kids to come to school. The best way seems to be to not spend too much time in school, so Dad often takes groups of them fishing or rock climbing. In the phone call he'd spent the afternoon in Aden Park doing the crossword. I decided not to tell Kiyomi this.
A report published this week found that Japan is losing 30 billion off its economy every year because staff are falling asleep at work or are off work due to stress-related illnesses. If I was working 14 hour days six days a week I think I'd be stressed out too. Akemi, my manager at Takabata, looked like death warmed up the other day. She'd had to go to a meeting in Osaka with the "big chizu" as she put it. The big cheese does not seem like a particularly sweet cheese. They had their meeting and stayed up drinking. Drinking with the boss is obligatory. Anyone who left early would be fired. The big cheese stopped drinking at 4 A.M.
I like living in Japan but I'm very glad I'm not Japanese.
"I have to go back on Thursday, just for one day," she said.
"Then what?"
"Then I quit." Wow. This is serious. Japanese people don't quit their jobs, they work until they die. That is, they work until they die unless they've lived abroad and have seen how the other half live. I'd spoken to Dad the other day, Dad has a cushy job (except on days where pupils are feeling violent) working in Education support and getting naughty kids to come to school. The best way seems to be to not spend too much time in school, so Dad often takes groups of them fishing or rock climbing. In the phone call he'd spent the afternoon in Aden Park doing the crossword. I decided not to tell Kiyomi this.
A report published this week found that Japan is losing 30 billion off its economy every year because staff are falling asleep at work or are off work due to stress-related illnesses. If I was working 14 hour days six days a week I think I'd be stressed out too. Akemi, my manager at Takabata, looked like death warmed up the other day. She'd had to go to a meeting in Osaka with the "big chizu" as she put it. The big cheese does not seem like a particularly sweet cheese. They had their meeting and stayed up drinking. Drinking with the boss is obligatory. Anyone who left early would be fired. The big cheese stopped drinking at 4 A.M.
I like living in Japan but I'm very glad I'm not Japanese.
3:1 And Other National Disasters
On the 9th I met Lucy and Thy after work and headed to a sports bar to watch the Japan vs Australia match. Unfortunately every Japanese person in Nagoya had had the same idea and we couldn't get in, so we wandered down a side street off Fushimi Dori near the theatre and found a grungy basement bar stuffed with screaming fans that could hold another three. Most of the time I hate football. The game itself is alright I suppose, but I hate the rivalry, the bigotry and violence that goes with it in Scotland. I don't want to be part of any crowd yelling 'your wife's got cancer' or other similarly jolly tunes at an opposing team's player. When the World Cup comes round, I can usually muster enough enthusiasm to watch a couple of games before lapsing back into antipathy for another four years.
We got some drinks and settled down to watch the game. Lucy was wearing her Ono football shirt. Ono (number 18) is very cute. Come to think of it, we mused as the game progressed, most of the Japanese players weren't too bad looking. There were a couple of other teachers in the bar, including Aaron who sometimes works at Takabata. "Who are you supporting?" he asked.
"Japan."
"Why not Australia?"
"I'm not Australian."
"You're Anglo, it's practically the same."
"No, it isn't, and I live in Japan."
A Japanese player launched a spectacularly unfriendly tackle at an Australian player and everyone cheered. A man standing next to me said, "You support Japan?"
"Yes," I said.
"Ah, sugoi!" He said, delighted.
After twenty-five minutes Nakamura scored and the barflies went wild. I loved seeing the normally quite reserved Japanese jumping cheering yelling and screaming at the TV.
It was a great game to watch, lots of tackles and shots on goal. I'd watched the Netherlands vs Serbia game the night before and it'd felt like I was watching robots. Pass. Pass. Weave. Dribble. Pass. Score. Shirt on head. Yes, it was technically good football but it wasn't very interesting to the untrained viewer.
At eighty minutes, the Japanese fans were already celebrating. Australia scored. The fans dropped from elation to nervous dread, and sure enough, Australia scored two more goals in five minutes. It was awful. The guy next to me put his head on the bar and groaned. I was gutted.
Later I spoke to Iain on the phone. "Japan didn't deserve to win, the players were too selfish. They should've passed more," he said primly.
"That's not the point. I wanted them to win."
Next, Japan will be gubbed by Brazil and then they will be well and truly out. But I'll be at the front of the bar, yelling for Nakamura and chanting "Nippon! Nippon!" with everyone else.
We got some drinks and settled down to watch the game. Lucy was wearing her Ono football shirt. Ono (number 18) is very cute. Come to think of it, we mused as the game progressed, most of the Japanese players weren't too bad looking. There were a couple of other teachers in the bar, including Aaron who sometimes works at Takabata. "Who are you supporting?" he asked.
"Japan."
"Why not Australia?"
"I'm not Australian."
"You're Anglo, it's practically the same."
"No, it isn't, and I live in Japan."
A Japanese player launched a spectacularly unfriendly tackle at an Australian player and everyone cheered. A man standing next to me said, "You support Japan?"
"Yes," I said.
"Ah, sugoi!" He said, delighted.
After twenty-five minutes Nakamura scored and the barflies went wild. I loved seeing the normally quite reserved Japanese jumping cheering yelling and screaming at the TV.
It was a great game to watch, lots of tackles and shots on goal. I'd watched the Netherlands vs Serbia game the night before and it'd felt like I was watching robots. Pass. Pass. Weave. Dribble. Pass. Score. Shirt on head. Yes, it was technically good football but it wasn't very interesting to the untrained viewer.
At eighty minutes, the Japanese fans were already celebrating. Australia scored. The fans dropped from elation to nervous dread, and sure enough, Australia scored two more goals in five minutes. It was awful. The guy next to me put his head on the bar and groaned. I was gutted.
Later I spoke to Iain on the phone. "Japan didn't deserve to win, the players were too selfish. They should've passed more," he said primly.
"That's not the point. I wanted them to win."
Next, Japan will be gubbed by Brazil and then they will be well and truly out. But I'll be at the front of the bar, yelling for Nakamura and chanting "Nippon! Nippon!" with everyone else.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Belle and Sebastian Photos
The fit guitarist is looking at me. Am I going to get thrown out for illegally taking photos?
Stuart Murdoch goes slightly camp.
Stuart and Stevie make a cute couple.
Kobe Photos
These are: waterfall seen from Kobe cablecar, a tiny view of the aftermath of the Kobe earthquake, a giant fish, and a view of Kobe.
Lazy wench
I'm sitting in my flat having a lazy day. Lucy has a couple of friends visiting from Kyushu so we're going to go for dinner later. Until then, I'm making the most of my one day off by refusing to do any housework and loafing around. I'm painting my toenails and messing about listening to Razorlight. I was sunbathing and reading The Impressionist on the balcony but the sun got just a bit too low so I came inside. I'm doing overtime tomorrow so I have to make the most of my day off. This is the life.
Belle and Sebastian
On Thursday we slept in (making the most of the double bed, sprawling like starfish) and refuelled on coffee and warm chocolate croissants in the middle of Kobe before heading off to Osaka. I like Kobe, I'd love to spend more time there. We got to Osaka and carefully began planning our route back through the city for after the gig, then headed off for the Human Rights museum. I'd hoped this would give a bit more insight into why Japan is the way it is (with women occupying a very low position, and relations with China and South Korea still poor after failing to apologise for wartime misbehaviour) but this museum was designed for the hard of thinking. Maybe the extra material that hadn't been translated into English would've explained things. Maybe it was just the annoying audioguide. What I do know for certain is that if I hear the phrase "The [insert oppressed minority group here] have endured many hardships. Let's think about the [insert oppressed minority here]" one more time, I will scream just to break the tedium.
We went to check out where the gig was and how close it was to the station since we were a tad worried about making the last train back to Nagoya. We found an ace cafe and sat around drinking coffee and beer and arguing about books for a while, then wandered off to find a bank. UFJ, my bank (they have an English option on their ATMs), the biggest bank in Japan, has clearly had some kind of fight with the people of Osaka. It took forever to find one and we definitely needed a beer after the hike. We sat on the edge of the river and watched birds diving into the murky water. A woman went past with a daschund in a pink dress. I think that no matter how long I live here, I won't get used to dogs as surrogate children. Though given the shade of pink the dog was wearing and its humiliated expression, maybe it's for the best that it won't grow up to be an adult human with severe psychological issues.
At six we trotted up to the doors to get in first, but we hadn't accounted for Japanese beaurocracy. The tickets are numbered, therefore the audience will be admitted in order of ticket number. We were 622 and 623 and slunk off to a corner to mutter with an Australian couple who had also been caught out. It was so not rock and roll. Eventually wev got in. Namba Hatch is a great venue for bands (should you ever find yourself in Osaka) because it has a very wide stage and isn't too big. It's easy to maneuver youself into a spot where you can get a great view. Plus, Japanese crowds are short and incredibly well behaved. No crowd surfing, no-one throwing bottles, and very little heckling apart from a gaggle of Auzzies who yelled incoherently. They asked for requests for an encore and I jumped up and down like a mad thing thing until Stuart Murdoch took pity on me, but decided Wrapped Up In Books was too hard. It's weird how Belle and Sebastian have grown on me. Last year they were that band who Lisa, Iain and Bob are obsessed with, and they wrote that one from Teachers, but after getting a couple of their albums and seeing them live, I'm tempted to say they're my favourite band. I bought the t-shirt and everything.
After the gig, a mad rush back to Shin-Osaka station (three trains away) on the other side of town. We made it just in time for the last Shinkansen back to Nagoya. After a sleepy journey back we went to Sarah's leaving party and had a quick goodbye beer before heading home.
We went to check out where the gig was and how close it was to the station since we were a tad worried about making the last train back to Nagoya. We found an ace cafe and sat around drinking coffee and beer and arguing about books for a while, then wandered off to find a bank. UFJ, my bank (they have an English option on their ATMs), the biggest bank in Japan, has clearly had some kind of fight with the people of Osaka. It took forever to find one and we definitely needed a beer after the hike. We sat on the edge of the river and watched birds diving into the murky water. A woman went past with a daschund in a pink dress. I think that no matter how long I live here, I won't get used to dogs as surrogate children. Though given the shade of pink the dog was wearing and its humiliated expression, maybe it's for the best that it won't grow up to be an adult human with severe psychological issues.
At six we trotted up to the doors to get in first, but we hadn't accounted for Japanese beaurocracy. The tickets are numbered, therefore the audience will be admitted in order of ticket number. We were 622 and 623 and slunk off to a corner to mutter with an Australian couple who had also been caught out. It was so not rock and roll. Eventually wev got in. Namba Hatch is a great venue for bands (should you ever find yourself in Osaka) because it has a very wide stage and isn't too big. It's easy to maneuver youself into a spot where you can get a great view. Plus, Japanese crowds are short and incredibly well behaved. No crowd surfing, no-one throwing bottles, and very little heckling apart from a gaggle of Auzzies who yelled incoherently. They asked for requests for an encore and I jumped up and down like a mad thing thing until Stuart Murdoch took pity on me, but decided Wrapped Up In Books was too hard. It's weird how Belle and Sebastian have grown on me. Last year they were that band who Lisa, Iain and Bob are obsessed with, and they wrote that one from Teachers, but after getting a couple of their albums and seeing them live, I'm tempted to say they're my favourite band. I bought the t-shirt and everything.
After the gig, a mad rush back to Shin-Osaka station (three trains away) on the other side of town. We made it just in time for the last Shinkansen back to Nagoya. After a sleepy journey back we went to Sarah's leaving party and had a quick goodbye beer before heading home.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Kobe
My skin has cleared up brilliantly so now I just have to contend with a heatrash that crops up every time I do any exercise. A brilliant excuse to stop running and get fat I suppose, but I`d rather not.
Went to Kobe on Wednesday. This meant getting up early and spending 35 pounds on a one way ticket there. It hurt. I was knackered from staying up and drinking beer in the park (my new favourite hang out). I like the scenery in Kansai and I tried to stay awake on the Shinkansen but I dozed off. We got to Kobe and wandered around in the sweltering heat trying to find the bookshop. Japan doesn't do second hand bookshops as a rule so we hunted this one out and spent ages there picking through their stock. Took the cablecar up the hill and got a great view and brilliant lunch in a mock-German style restaurant full of old people. It was too early to check in so we wandered downtown to see if Kobe was really as bad as the Lonely Planet made it out to be. Kobe is actually a great wee place, full of ace pubs and restaurants. It has a totally different feel to Nagoya. There isn't that much to do if you're a tourist, but I thought it would be a great place to live. It's hard to believe that it was all but flattened ten years ago; there's very little to show of the earthquake now. We decided the Lonely Planet writer must have been dumped in Kobe to be so down on it.
We had a game of pool to pass the time until we could check in. I let Iain win. After we checked into our room (with the worst view ever - a building site scaffold three inches away from the window) we headed back out and went down to the earthquake memorial park. They've left a bit of the harbour wall as it was after the earthquake and it's a weird sight. Headed back into the centre and wandered around Chinatown for a couple of minutes (that's all it took) then stumbled across a jazz bar. Strange mix of cool jazz accessories (LP's signed by Miles Davis, a wall of LP's to be played in the bar) mixed with the decorative style of your Great-Auntie's house. China cups and saucers, doilies, you name it. Then we headed for a Mexican-style place we'd seen earlier but hadn't been open (we were misled by the open bar, music, and staff willing to serve us). We had a couple of extortionately priced beers and then ambled off to find a Thai place that had had rave reviews. Unfortunately the reviewer wanted to keep it a secret and gave a vague set of directions. Couldn't find it, so went to another Mexican place for dinner instead. Early bed due to to many beers and an early start.
Went to Kobe on Wednesday. This meant getting up early and spending 35 pounds on a one way ticket there. It hurt. I was knackered from staying up and drinking beer in the park (my new favourite hang out). I like the scenery in Kansai and I tried to stay awake on the Shinkansen but I dozed off. We got to Kobe and wandered around in the sweltering heat trying to find the bookshop. Japan doesn't do second hand bookshops as a rule so we hunted this one out and spent ages there picking through their stock. Took the cablecar up the hill and got a great view and brilliant lunch in a mock-German style restaurant full of old people. It was too early to check in so we wandered downtown to see if Kobe was really as bad as the Lonely Planet made it out to be. Kobe is actually a great wee place, full of ace pubs and restaurants. It has a totally different feel to Nagoya. There isn't that much to do if you're a tourist, but I thought it would be a great place to live. It's hard to believe that it was all but flattened ten years ago; there's very little to show of the earthquake now. We decided the Lonely Planet writer must have been dumped in Kobe to be so down on it.
We had a game of pool to pass the time until we could check in. I let Iain win. After we checked into our room (with the worst view ever - a building site scaffold three inches away from the window) we headed back out and went down to the earthquake memorial park. They've left a bit of the harbour wall as it was after the earthquake and it's a weird sight. Headed back into the centre and wandered around Chinatown for a couple of minutes (that's all it took) then stumbled across a jazz bar. Strange mix of cool jazz accessories (LP's signed by Miles Davis, a wall of LP's to be played in the bar) mixed with the decorative style of your Great-Auntie's house. China cups and saucers, doilies, you name it. Then we headed for a Mexican-style place we'd seen earlier but hadn't been open (we were misled by the open bar, music, and staff willing to serve us). We had a couple of extortionately priced beers and then ambled off to find a Thai place that had had rave reviews. Unfortunately the reviewer wanted to keep it a secret and gave a vague set of directions. Couldn't find it, so went to another Mexican place for dinner instead. Early bed due to to many beers and an early start.
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