You Asked For It (Seventy Three Times)

Hello all,

This post mainly serves the purpose of appeasing my parents' weekly requests to see my apartment.  I have spoken to them just about every weekend since I got here almost eight months ago, and I don't think they failed to ask about those gosh darn pictures.  Unfortunately, my place hits its peak of disrepair on the weekends; I then talk to my parents, clean the place the next day, and forget to photo it.  This cycle repeated dozens of times, and I recently told them that if I put photos up, it would mean that I had a girlfriend.  This is indeed not the case at the moment, but the more tangible prospect for that of late is undoubtedly a factor in my desire to not live like I typically would.  So, there's some good stories that have surfaced recently, but not all of them should be posted on here.  Feel free to inquire.  In the meantime, take a look at my place and ask questions about any peculiar items you may notice in the place.  I'm not going to make a running inventory of the apartment just yet.  Finally, the last picture is a bonus to illustrate some of my frustrations while driving.  Since when is it OK to blatantly cut across three lanes of a shopping center entrance BEHIND A CAR that is waiting to leave and IN FRONT OF A CAR (moped) that is pulling up behind it?

Edit: I should note that I am not an ideal driver, either.  Jonathan left a comment a few posts back, so here's a chance to reply to it.  He saw the picture of all the students with the identical helmets.  The helmets are in fact made by a variety of companies, but the students are required to get full-face white helmets to which they then apply colored stickers that indicate their grade.  They are easily identifiable when out in public.  My helmet is also white, but I don't need any fancy racing-stripe-like decoration.  This is my second helmet; my first one was cool and black.  Bike helmets are designed to take some hits, but once they do, the integrity is compromised and a new one is advisable.  So, yes, I have had one accident.  I was getting into the swing of driving and was mildly lost looking for a convenience store.  I pulled into a wide, empty intersection and decided to take the chance to look around for signs of a store.  I took my eyes off the road for a full two or three seconds.  When you drive something that turns based on how you distribute your weight, turning your head and shoulders leads your body in the opposite direction.  I looked back to the road, and realized I was a half second from hitting the curved part where a curb begins.  I may have been able to swerve out of the way.  Instead, I literally thought to myself, "it's like a video game; ramp it".  I indeed ramped it.  I then crashed to the ground and collapsed.  I was scratched a little and my headlight was busted, and that was all.  The noise was formidable and I decided to take the opportunity to make some locals feel a little off-put.  Some gas station attendants witnessed the whole thing, and it turned out I needed some gas.  So I walked my unskilled self over, and they stared at me.  I said "fill it up, please!", to which they could only say, "OK...uh...but...are you OK?"  So that's that.

Bye, America!

This One's About Food Again

  So there is a local chain restaurant, Hotto Motto (more hot), that provides some decent ready-made lunches.  The name is kind of a silly story.  There was an original food chain, Hokka Hokka Tei (I believe hokka is a way of saying "hot" and I don't know how to translate tei).  So this restaurant had a distribution company in its franchise that recently declared independence.  The company broke off and supplied the new restaurant, Hotto Motto, claiming in its humorous name that it is hotter than its competitor.  Notably, the menus are almost identical, and while Hotto Motto introduces new items more frequently, Hokka Hokka Tei is generally better.  My main school has a Hotto Motto near it, so I only eat Hokka Hokka Tei once a week.  Also, since the latter is older, its name found its way into lunch parlance.  Hokkaben (an amalgamation of hokka and bentou) is a way of explaining that your lunch is not homemade but take-out.

Most of you have probably heard the term bentou before, given that the popularity of Japanese food is on the rise.  A bentou is your quintessential lunch box.  Homemade bentou will usually consist of several layered dishes: one with veggies and meat, one with rice, and possibly a bowl for soup.  When you buy one out, you get a big styrofoam box, basically, with everything inside.  For people with large appetites, you can buy a manpuku bentou, which essentially means "full stomach lunch".  I think of it as Japan's Hungry Man, especially since it's a MANpuku bentou (though still pronounced mAWn-poo-koo).  That is a common item that I tried once.  

Recently, they introduced the sports bentou, which allegedly packs in the protein and calories that are needed by athletes.  Mind you, a lot of protein here is 30g or so, about the same you would get from a single quarter pounder.  At first glance, it looks like a smorgasbord of foods that are basically not good for you, but each is presented in moderation.  So, I bought it, and I need to hit the gym later.  My American appetite put down the meal quite handily, but I looked online and discovered the specific breakdown of nutrition.  I basically did eat a quarter pounder; the fat and protein I took in were comparable, but the weight of the meal was far greater and consisted of twice the calories and way more sugars (rice and pasta aplenty).  I was pleased with the variety of tastes, and it overall had a very Western, fried goodness to it.  The components of the meal are not unusual at all for Japan.

I have been frequenting the gym and trying to adjust my diet accordingly.  This does mean a greater intake of calories, protein, and vitamins.  So my meat and veggies are a staple.  This meal lived up to its name for the most part, but I would have definitely sacrificed some of the flavor for lower fat content if it were up to me.  I will enumerate its contents, starting in the upper left hand corner and moving clockwise.  First up is an oily mix of pasta, pork, and veggies.  The next corner is a piece of sausage, a small croquette of potato and veggies, some cabbage (termed salad), a bit of scrambled egg, and a piece of fried chicken, the first three hidden from view by my environmentally friendly two-tone chopsticks.  Next is the world's smallest hamburger, and, finally, you guessed it, a heap of rice coated with some nice, salty furikake for flavor.  Let's not forget the decorative fake seaweed that is used in America, as well, and equally useless.  Finally, a picture of me sitting in the office yesterday, sporting some argyle and wondering if I should play golf.  Bye, America!

Random Thoughts - The Ideal Blog Post

I recently Googled my blog and discovered that some random quote of mine from an older post has been thrown onto a website providing info on Japanese language schools.  Apparently the site posts just about any blog entry that provides hits on the search query "communication in Japanese language" (not as an exact phrase).  So I've really hit the big time with this blog, it seems.  Anyway, the weekend came and went, and I didn't do anything particularly exciting.  For the past two months, I have had Jehovah's witnesses show up at my door every weekend.  The first time they came, I was quite startled; I was in the middle of an international Rock Band session and they were the second visitors of the day in a place where nobody ever visits.  The first was a local cop who came to introduce himself as a new guy but nonetheless made me very paranoid about my music.  Then the witnesses showed up and read sections of the Bible to me in Japanese.  I was cordial but uninterested.  Still, I acted interested, and from that and perhaps my being a foreigner from a primarily Christian country, they latched on.  The next day, the woman showed up with a man and they thanked me and talked to me more.  They make me generally uncomfortable and I want them to simply stop coming to my house.  This is where I make an epic mistake.  On one Sunday, I decided to play Rock Band with friends from home and have a couple drinks.  The witnesses showed up, as usual.  I was concerned that the doorbell was again a cop, so I checked the peephole and saw nothing.  I opened the door, and to my dismay, there they were.  My spirits were just high enough to not be outright rude to them, but I gradually grew more cheerful.  When they invited me to dinner, I was dumbfounded and did not have the presence of mind to say NO.  So I will meet them next weekend, and after that, I truly never want to see them again.

There is also a party next weekend with fellow teachers that promises to be a good time.  Before that, I have arranged for a dinner date on Wednesday, and it's an interesting predicament.  When I go out somewhere with a friend, particularly a ladyfriend, in America, I typically go out to a restaurant.  I let my personality carry over here, so I do the same.  However, I don't think I've actually had a 1-on-1 dinner ever before, and though my Japanese is good, it's a little intimidating.  I should make a new MTV show called intim-i-date that shows me, flustered, trying to act cool.

Meanwhile, I am at school and promise to let you all in on the upcoming festivities.  High school graduation happened recently.  I took a number of videos but no pictures.  I can pull some screen captures from the videos if I feel like it, however.  The ceremony is quite formal; I went to the rehearsal and the ceremony itself.  A couple teachers put on hakama, a very formal piece of clothing that is put over a kimono.  Most people wear suits and the students wear their uniforms.  The principal makes a speech, the students are called by name, and then a representative from each class comes forward to receive the packet of diplomas.  Imagine homeroom classes from America never separating; instead, the students form a close bond with the homeroom teacher and sit through all subjects with the same students.  That's how these classes work; they each acquire a collective personality of their own.  After the diplomas are distributed, a couple more speeches are made by the student council president, the graduating class representative, and so on.  The whole ceremony is very quiet and lasted a little under two hours.

Last weekend, many students received the results from their college entrance examinations.  A few did not pass and will have to try again or go to a different school.  One student who passed brought back a souvenir (read: food) for me, and I will share it with you now.  First, for any unfamiliar with omiyage, omiyage is the compulsory souvenir that you bring back for people after visiting a different area.  You were able to go somewhere that you friends, family, and co-workers didn't, so you should bring back some token of the experience.  Manjuu, which is mochi (pounded rice) filled with bean paste, is a very common omiyage.  The student went to Miyazaki, a local prefecture, and brought back nanjagora manjuu.  "Nanjagora" is a phrase used in local dialect that means "nani kore?" or "what is that?!".  So, basically, I received a "what is that?!" manjuu that is uncharacteristically filled with a bunch of stuff.  I'm pretty sure that within the mochi, there was bean paste, something like cream cheese, possibly a small potato, and a whole strawberry.  It was very good.  The first three pictures are of this monstrous food in various states of my mouth having disassembled it.  The next pictures are of some textbooks the students use as supplements.  The first one is troubling to me: it says "1800 English words and phrases to remember via sample sentences".  The one that says "600 Basic English Sentences" is similar.  They are both very well-written and edited, but the concept troubles me.  Students are taught certain words and phrases but only remember them by hammering into their heads a specific sentence that often sees little real-world practicality.  They can memorize these sentences, but this usually means that they learn the usage of the sentence as a whole and simply can't apply the words it contains to other situations.  The third book is more practical, I think, as it is a simple vocabulary text with sample phrases.  Lastly, two pictures of me with some recent graduates.

Bye, America!