Just so you don't think I'm not drawing...

Maia and I have decided to give ourselves a weekly challenge, with a random topic every week... This last week the topic was Star Wars...

---Me.

Power...what?!?

Seen while on a bus coming back from Tokyo:

It.... it sounds like a really bad idea for a superhero...

---Me.

A note to all of you who are wondering about me...

Well, this would be try number 2 on the posting for the night (The last try just simply didn't make it).

I waned to make a post real quick about the State of the Internet here in my apartment;

It's lousy...

Yep, it's broadband, but there is something about the way the ISP interfaces with the internet that has played Molly Hobb with all of my various posting thingies...

1) Sometimes I post my blog, and I just get the title (As just happened here), the body of my blog is lost somewhere in Cyberspace, never to be seen again...

2) I am not connected to the internet via a stable IP address, the address changes often... sometimes as often as once every 15 seconds... when this happens; I have to relogin to my Email client (As a security measure)... and when I relogin, I lose all work I was doing...

What that means in plain English; Some nights it takes me 2 to 3 hours to reply to a message because every 15 seconds I lose the message and I have to retype it in... That's why you don't hear from me that often via Email. I can read them, but I have real problems replying. Aunt Omaha, LaVonne, I have been trying to reply to you two for a couple of weeks now, and I just have been having a time of it...

3) Those of you with Live Journal accounts; My IP range is apparently used a lot by spammers, and thus it is permanently blocked by LJ. They suggest I call my ISP and have them issue me a new IP range... The odds of that happening are, well, as James would put it: "Slim to none and Slim left for the airport a while ago"... But that's why I don't reply to your LJ's anymore... But I am reading your LJ's every day... I wish I could reply... :(

Uncle Pat, I love ya, man! I read your responses and laugh a lot! Thank you! Know that you are not forgotten! :D

(Note the post below this one is new today as well :D)

---Me.

The Japanese Way...

I finally hit the wall with one of my teachers, I knew it would happen, and it did...

Classes so far (For first and third years, anyway), consist of the same sort of thing; the children stand up, we say good morning, they say good morning, we say how are you, they say I'm fine thanks how are you, we say I'm fine thank you, they sit down.

Then we get a piece of English, and we drill it... usually, they want me to read it and the class repeats after me. This goes on for 45 minutes...

The children are asleep (Wouldn't you be?)...

So, today I said to Ms. 1st year; "I think perhaps we should shake up the drills a bit, do a game or something, make it exciting..."

She says: "You have opinions. But that is not the Japanese way. We drill, that is the way it is done."

BAM... the door is closed...

Later, I talk to Mr. 2nd year: "Ms. 1st year says that is just the way it is done... but I disagree... children are children, whether they are American or Japanese... These kids are asleep before the bell rings..."

Mr. 2nd year: "I agree with you, let's shake up the class a bit..."

Did I mention I love this guy? He's new to the school this year, and in fact he is fresh out of college... he's a real sharp fella, and he has a lot of good ideas.

One of them was to split up his classes, he let the students choose which level they wanted to be in, and then he took the slow group, Ms 1st year took the medium group, and he gave the advanced class to me...

And he is willing to let me experiment with them (Insert wringing of hands and evil genius laugh here)...

I had that class for the first time today, and two of my advanced girls (Mind you these are all 2nd years... 8th graders), asked me if it was okay to write their names in cursive... cursive... I'm still trying to get some 3rd years to write their names in English... never mind cursive...

And these are my 2nd years...

At least, in the ocean of droning English drills, these kids can have one class with interesting stuff...

Haul out the exploding cars and sinking ships! This class will ROCK!

---Evil Genius...

Natto your father's idea of food...

So, finally on Friday I got to taste the infamous "Natto". Natto is, for all intents and purposes, Japans perfectly crafted Foreigner repellent. Just like Australia's Vegimite.

It is... fermented soy beans (I mean, really, they have done just about everything else to Soy beans here, why not let them rot too...)

I had an inkling something was up when my principal said; "We have special treat for you in lunch today..." And then motioned me over to the table...

It looks rather innocent; it is sealed (That should be the first hint) in a cup exactly the same size and shape as those little ice creams we all got for school lunch... But once you peel back the lid...

I should say at this moment that if you want to know what the smell of natto is; Go and purchase Testors #12 modelling glue... it smells exactly the same... exactly. Like a petrol product...

Then you are supposed to stir this stuff...

I guess soy beans secrete something when they rot, because the beans were stuck together with a translucent web of something (Which looked, well... like Testors #12 Modelling glue was poured into the batch)... it was very sticky...

So, I did what everyone else was doing; I poured it onto my rice,

This is a misnomer; It stuck to the cup, I had to fish it out with my chopsticks and then shake it off of said chopsticks and nearly beg to get it to stay on my rice...

But, ultimately, it did... and so I proceeded to eat this (Beans doused in modelling glue). Most westerners have said they can't stand Natto because of the smell... the smell only set up that voice in my head that sounds like dad which said; "Son, don't eat modelling glue..."... But it didn't make me gag, or die, or anything...

I look around suddenly and realize everyone is looking at me... I had impressed my fellow teachers who were sure I'd hate it...

Then I realized one of my teachers is sitting away from the table... My principal notices as well, and asks, "Don't you like Natto, (Language Arts) Teacher?"

To which (Language Arts) Teacher says; "That stuff will kill you."

Everyone laughs, and the Principal says: "Guy here is eating Natto just fine... He is more Japanese than you!" Everyone laughs (Including Language Arts Teacher)...

Later, after lunch, Language Arts Teacher comes over to me and says:

"Japanese Secret weapon; Natto. 5 Oclock tonight... BAM! Bomb. Stomach explode..." He illustrates. He is actually a really fun fellow, and this is obviously said in great fun (I can't write it like he said it but he had an epic grin on his face as he conveyed the secret weapon's devistating power). I told him if I had any adverse effects, I'd alert him on Monday.

Monday rolls around, and I seemed to have survived just fine. For the day, however, the first years are on a tip into the city, so we just have second and third year teachers in the staff room (Language Arts Teacher is a first year teacher). But I notice a note on my desk.

It's from Language Arts Teacher (In English);

"To Mr. Guy.

Sorry. I have to go "(school trip)". Natto Bomb was hit for Teacher's room, at 5 O'clock. They will be sick and go hospital. Just now. Perhaps you be alone. But don't mind! This funny strategy means is "Welcome to Japan celemony". for Guy. (Old Traditional)
Have a nice day!!
From (Language Arts) Teacher."

I can't help it, that was awesome, I had to write a response:

(In Japanese)

Science Teacher:

Are you feeling better? I was worried about you! This is awful! You knew it would hit, didn't you? Don't worry, I survived the Natto Bakudan (Big Bomb) because I practiced eating modelling glue in my childhood. As for the school, it is also doing just fine. The phones rang a lot, but I simply said "Hello, (MySchool)! Please speak English only!". Of course I couldn't understand their response, so I simply said; "Okay... bye!" and hung up.
Please get better soon!

---Guy

Yep... I'm felling very much welcome here... :)

---Me.

Management at work

Here is a picture I found near a fire hose port:

See, person A (Indicated by the "A") takes the hose, while person B (Indicated by the roundish gut, balding hair style and stressed out demeanor) gives you instructions, tells you that your performance sucks, and ultimately throws you into the fire that you are trying to put out.

Management is the same everywhere...

Vignettes of a Monday morning in a Japanese Junior High School…

The day starts off badly; I show up to notice that everyone is dressed immaculately in suits… I go about the daily operations of my morning (I have two classes of 3rd years in first and second period, respectively, so I have to hustle). When my principal walks past me,

"Mister Guy, Come on… picture time."

What I haven’t mentioned yet is that my principal loves to talk in English; he’s actually rather good at it. The more he practices with me, the better he’s getting, I’d like to add… but this particular time he passes me and says this I shudder…

No one told me today was picture day. I missed the memo… or perhaps I got the memo, but it was in Japanese far beyond my comprehension… Either way, I’m wearing a nice shirt and a nice tie… but not a suit… I stand out…

Then they show me the picture from last year… and I notice the American teacher that was in my position before me standing there in a nice shirt and a nice tie…

He too was taken by surprise…

Well, at least I’m not alone…

---------

My first 3rd year class is slow and ponderous; the kids are asleep almost the moment the chime rings in the class. I introduce myself and, as I have done for all three of my 1st years, I show the picture of dad, mom and my sister. Then I go through talking about Denver, and all of my normal spiel. This time, however, I’m not going as slow as I was with the 1st years. I kinda want to see what the 3rd years can do.

…They can stare at me, dumbfounded… that’s what they can do.

Well… on to plan “B”: Stare back.

Okay, that was at least a funny plan… but it only elicits slight giggling from the class.

So we drill the class for a second, what is my sister’s name, how many family members do I have… etc. And after a little while, they seem to have gotten at least most of what I had said.

Then I go to 3rd year 4th class…

I should start with; so far my experience with the Japanese girls are that they are giggly, reserved, shy, and are more difficult to engage… Pretty much like the wallflower JHS girls back home.

This is not true of “Genki-Chan”. Genki-chan (Genki is the Japanese word for “Energetic”, I’ll call her that for now) is loud, boisterous, calls out answers in Japanese or English, depending on whatever strikes her fancy at the moment…

…and most of all, she has a wicked sense of humor.

We go through the same process as with class 3-3 here in 3-4; I introduce myself. Then move on to my father, mother and sister, and then wrap up with explaining a little about Denver.

The JTE (Japanese teacher, English) then begins the question drill as she had in 3-3:

(In English)“Okay, what is Guy-Sensei’s sister’s name?”

Genki-chan is standin in a flash, no one else had a chance to react…

Genki-Chan (English): “Peter!”

Peter?!? That’s not even an option on the little handout I gave at the beginning of the class! Where in the world did she get “Peter” from?

Me (In Japanese): Peter is a (Male) name (The word “Male” is in parenthesis because I, in my infinite wisdom, didn’t actually use the word “Otoko” (Male), instead, I used the word “Otaku” (the Japanese term for over-the-top Fanatics of anime or science fiction… very much like Trekkies)… saying in essence “Peter is a Trekkies’ name”)

Genki-Chan: Otaku? As in Akihabara? (The borough of Tokyo which has all the Japanese animation and Star Trek paraphernalia)

The kids laugh. I laugh. Genki-chan, however, is not even cracking a smile, she is looking at me dead-on with a classic straight-man look…

This girl is sharp as a tack. I’m in trouble, I can tell…

I back out of it with what little grace I can muster, and move on…

Okay, Genki-chan, you win round one…

Later, I am wandering the class chatting with the groups of students, when I get to Genki-Chan’s little clutch of girls. I don’t have to say anything, Genki-chan is all about gaining the initiative.

Genki-Chan: How long you Japan?

Me: About one month.

Genki-Chan: Ah. You have good… um… (What is the word?) Japanese skill?

Me (Switching to Japanese) Actually, no. My Japanese is pretty lousy.

Genki-chan (Also in Japanese): It sounds pretty good to me, but you should probably use this and this….

She promptly writes out my sentence on her paper, and is correcting it… A Japanese girl is correcting the Sensei’s speech… That’s gutsy… So gutsy, the other girls are obviously worried she is going too far…

I, on the other hand, stun the other girls by asking questions; “So if I do this and this, it makes it past-tense, correct?”

Genki-chan: That’s right.

I suddenly stand upright and bow to her,

Me: Thank you, Genki-Sensei.

Genki-chan’s straight-man comedic exterior cracks and she gives me a shocked smile…

Gotcha Genki-chan. And now we are even.

---------

I’m walking up the stairwell at my school, when I come across a gaggle of 2nd year girls who are giggling and pointing out the 3rd floor window.
Below, in the bike parking, a majority of the students are preparing to go home for the day, and the lot is a sea of children wearing my schools' navy blue (Winter) uniforms and white safety helmets and their uniform brown bookbags...

And yet, something has attracted the attention of these girls... so I saddle up to the girls...

(All in Japanese)

Me: So... what are we looking at?

Girl 1: We are looking at the First years...

Me: Are...are they funny*? (*In Japanese Omoshoroi (Funny) has sorta a "Strange-funny" connotation)

Girl 2 (Giggling): They are so young!

I pause at the irony of this...

Me: Ah... I understand.

Girl 1 (Laughing a lot now): I'm glad!

I saddle off as I saddled in, leaving the Gaggle to Giggle...

No matter the country, Junior High Girls are Junior High Girls...

----

The students had a half-day today because this is “Home-visit” day, the day when my fellow teachers visit each student’s home and see what their living-conditions are like. Here in Japan when a student does something wrong the parents aren’t really held responsible, instead, their teachers are called to the carpet. It is presumed that the teachers failed to teach the students proper behavior, and thus they are held responsible. The pressure on the Japanese teachers is tremendous. So they insure their students have the proper environment by visiting their houses and inspecting their rooms… I’m not making this up… Honest.

I’m not sure if it’s better or worse than America, but I know it’s interesting…

After helping work in the garden outside, I pretty much run out of things to do and my Principal lets me go for the day with a smile.

All in all, this is an interesting school.

A Mother's Lullaby...

A big old tree stands by a road near the city of Hiroshima. Through the years, it has seen many things.

One summer night the tree heard a lullaby. A mother was singing to her little girl under the tree. They looked happy and the song sounded sweet. But the tree remembered something sad.
“Yes, it was some sixty years ago. I heard a lullaby that night too.”
On the morning of that day a big bomb fell on the city of Hiroshima. Many people lost their lives, and many others were injured. They had burns all over their bodies. I was very sad when I saw those people.
It was a very hot day. Some of the people fell down near me. I said to them, “Come and rest in my shade. You’ll be all right soon."

Night came. Some people were already dead. I heard a weak voice. It was a lullaby. A young girl was singing to a little boy.
“Mommy! Mommy!” the boy cried.
“Don’t cry,” the girl said. “Mommy is here.” Then she began to sing again.
She was very weak, but she tried to be a mother to the poor little boy. She held him in her arms like a real mother.
“Mommy,” the boy was still crying.
“Be a good boy,” said the girl, “You’ll be all right.” She held the boy more tightly and began to sing again.

After a while the boy stopped crying and quietly died. But the little mother did not stop singing.

It was a sad lullaby. The girl’s voice became weaker and weaker.

Morning came and the sun rose, but the girl never moved again.

----

This little cheerful story brought to you by our 3rd year English textbook. This is in the "Let's practice reading!" section. It is complete with drawings of a little girl sitting in her little school uniform (exactly like the ones my girls happen to be wearing today) cradling a little dying boy amid the ruins of Hiroshima...

Woah...

Dangerous foods

I come upon this tranquil scene on a poster:

I take a closer look:

Well... I guess I should steer clear of that soup, especially if it is packing heat...

First contact

I have met the enemy, and they are rugrats…

So, I am now at my official first day of school. I am (Understandably) Nervous as all get out. I make it to school and I come in 15 minutes early. Just in time for me to walk in to the morning teachers’ meeting. So, I kinda slip in unnoticed (Except this is Japan, and nothing is unnoticed), and I sit down at my desk.

The speech-maker is my Vice Principal, and I have no earthly idea what he is saying, but it sounds like a “First day of classes go out and get-em” sort of speech. I don’t have to wait too long and the meeting ends. So I turn to the desk next to me where my JTE is (Japanese Teacher, English). She says good morning and says “You don’t have to be here 8:00… I think 8:15. Morning meeting…. Not for you” What it took me a while to find out was, “You can’t understand enough Japanese for the morning meeting to be a benefit to you, so go on ahead and be here at 8:15 from now on.” But it sure sounded like I wasn’t qualified to be part of the morning meeting…

It’s amazing how important being able to not just be competent in a language, but also be able to navigate the strange eddies and currents of inflection ad implication… I vowed to remember this lesson and use my budding Japanese with wisdom and care…

Well… my hearts in the right place…

I don’t have any classes scheduled for day one, so I am looking forward to getting some important things done, like tour the school and meet the teachers. So I turn to my JTE…

And she has vanished.

It turns out that it’s the first day of school, and my JTE is busier than… a Japanese 7th grade teacher on the first day of school.

So my Principal comes out and looks at me and says: “Mistaa Guy, You raik-u Golf?” And flashes a huge grin.

Day one: I have now watched golf with my Principal, told him all about me (In pidgin Japanese-English mix), found out that he actually speaks pretty good English (Which he learned in a High School real near our current location in the 60’s astonishingly enough), and is a really nice fellow.

After an hour of chatting, he tells me he has to go to the Kindergarten and so I ask him if it is okay to have a look around. He’s happy as a clam that I would like to do that.

Thus I embark on operation “Wander the halls”. It is the middle of second period.

My school is actually rather large and lovely. It’s a little old. I get the feeling it’s been here for probably long enough that my Principal may have actually gone to this very school. But it’s sturdy and well-kept. It has three stories, set up in three wings.

So I get to the second floor on the outer wing and I notice some 2nd years have lined up to enter a class. As I come up on them, I hear the whispers ripple through the awe-struck children… “It’s Guy-Sensei…. Guy Sensei…. Guy Sensei”.

Woah… My reputation precedes me…

One of the boys in the back of the line perks up at my approach, “Herrow!” He exclaims proudly, “How are you?”

I grin and tell him I am fine, and ask him how he is, he smiles and says he is fine and is obviously proud of being able to carry a conversation in English with the new teacher.

I thought this was going to happen, and I was counting my blessings to see that one or two of my students were forward enough to talk to me…

I had no idea.

As the day went on I carried out not three or four but countless Hello’s and I was even more complicated questions:

3rd year student: “Where are you from?”
Me: “America”
(The 3rd year consults his friend, obviously he had guessed I was American)
3rd year student: “Where in America are you from?”
I’m blown away… That is a pretty amazingly complex sentence there… I tell him, and then in Japanese I tell him that his English is pretty good and that I’m proud of him for that. He grins. I have made a friend.

Of course, this isn’t always the case. I come up on a clutch of 2nd year girls in the hallway, and they perk up upon seeing me and one exclaims proudly: “You are name!” At which time I stop, and say (In Japanese) “Close, try again”.

The girls go into a consultation mode, something only Junior High School girls can do, at which time the girl tries again: “You are name?”

So I try gently correcting her; “What’s your name?”

She says “Miko.”

Well, that wasn’t helping, so I say in Japanese: “Ask me”.

Now all the girls in the clutch are clamoring to say it, “What’s you name?” They all ask. I smile and tell them, suddenly realizing that I have to add on the “Sensei” because I’m responsible for the moral well being of these children, and they need to have their honorifics correct.
Weird…

At the end of the day, I’m in the teacher’s room when two 2nd year girls come in to get a key to a storage room. One of the girls spots me, inhales sharply with a massive grin on her face (Aha! I alone have discovered the secret hiding place of the new English Teacher!) and she waves enthusiastically.

I smile, and of course, wave back.

I dig my students. Apparently this is rather unusual behavior for Japanese students. I gather that English, as it is in America, is typically a rather reviled class in our schools… But my school has consistently placed high in the English competitions, and thus, it seems, that my kids are really in to English. And they aren’t very worried about wielding it on the new English Teacher…
That’s, of course, what I say now… We’ll see how this is in a couple of months.

Easy come, Easy Gomi...

So Japan leads the world with recycling... it makes sense, really... Japan has no real room for landfills. So every houshold has a Gomi chart; This is a chart on which day what type of thing is recycled and where to place it, etc. They are very strict about it (Glass must be sorted by color, etc), and get very annoyed when you put things in the wrong containers (I can't, for instance, put my burnable gomi in a non-burnable bag... which makes sense as well).

This is my gomi chart...

Now, since I'm only one of many here in my city, m Gomi chart has different days for different things, so the fella at city hall was nice enough to mark which days what things were done... so, it's not in order... (As in The purple and grey columns are monday, the blue and brown is on Sunday, etc...). It's really complex...

Of course, this being Japan...

It's nice to know that should I need to recycle my epic battle mech, those are collected on Thursday...

---Me.

Psst... you wanna see a Daihatstu naked?

I just love this country. :)

---Me.

Anatomy of an Earthquake...

Well, it's official; I have now been through an earthquake. Not a big one (In fact, it didn't even register enough to be on the news), but an earthquake nonetheless. my apartment shook and things shifted.

I felt it coming, the "P" waves are smaller than the "S" waves that follow... The worst part is that when the "P" waves hit, I knew it was going to get worse, and since the "P" waves were pretty big...

There is a special sort of scared you become as you wait for the bigger waves to hit... you know they are coming... but you don't know how big they'll be...

I'm so not prepared for earthquake country... I sat in my chair, with Serenity playing on my DVD player, and I watched the ceiling... I didn't (As you are supposed to do), go stand in my doorway... I was really more fascinated by the whole thing...

Fascinated and terrified... this is an act of Nature that I have never experienced before...

But then it passed... and Joss was stll talking about Serenity, and the lights were still on, and the rain still fell, and the building didn't...

Yet another adventure in the land of the Rising Sun...

---Me.

The story of the Little Old Ladies

I need to pay for my car insurance so I can go get my Mitsubishi Something-or-another from the company garage (I own it, and, I got it for free… you just can’t beat that price). To do this, I need to get money out of my ATM… in Ginza.

But I’ve never tried to get to Tokyo from here… the last time I went to Tokyo it was from Maia’s house, and she lived at Moriya station, which is just one train and 40 minutes to Tokyo (Using the Tskuba express, a wonderful train). Now that I’m in my home city, I have discovered that there are no trains out here… I have to go by bus… something I have not done yet.

Worse, I sorta implied to my Japanese helper that I wanted to do it by myself (I really felt bad making her come out here and help me, as she has three kids and it’s a Saturday). So she tells me to catch the bus at City Hall, and go to Tokyo Station and transfer there to Ginza.

Ah… the adventure begins…

I walk over to City Hall and stand at the bus stop… but I notice that no busses stop at the stop at 12:45… the time my helper said the bus would arrive… So I get suspicious and I walk into the City Hall.

“Excuse me!” I say somewhat timidly.
“Yes?” Says this really nice man behind the counter.
“I need to catch the bus to Tokyo station at 12:45, but…” (That’s what I think I said, I probably really said “Monkey pig and bus that is going Tokyo near aircraft landing pad.”)
Luckily, he figured out what I was saying and replied very distinctly and clearly: “flakgjdflkgmkvaskf ksafdjga aijva oaisjdoav aposdvfa mdksmcd”…
I stare at him for a second and then say, “I’m sorry, my Japanese is really bad” (Ironically, I was programmed with this line in Japanese class, so it is the only thing I can say in flawless Japanese…), “Could you repeat that, a little slower, please?”
“I’m sorry,” He says, “dsflkj Bus asdkfjhg This altkgjad Wrong place akfjh near Post Office.”

He then turns around, grabs a map of the town, runs to the copier, photocopies a page, and returns… all alarmingly fast (Everyone moves fast here… they run everywhere). He then puts the copy on the table.

“Here.” He points to the city hall, “Go to Stoppu Raitto” (He tries to say “Stop light” in English for me… that’s awfully nice of him… especially since I have no idea what the word is in Japanese… then again, it is Japanese… it just might be “Stoppu Raitto”… “fkja;jkg South” I nod, sagely… this is a skill I’m developing here… nodding and pretending I understand… folks get less frustrated with me then… “Post Office here.” I smile and give the “Ah! I get it!” look.

He smiles, hands me the paper, looks very proud of himself for managing to explain a complicated concept like “This isn’t the right place, Go to the post office, stupid.” To the poor, lost American. And then runs back to his desk to do, as far as I can tell, nothing critical at all… but at least he hurried to do it…

So I walk down the street to the one major stoplight in my town, and I head over to the Post office… Of course, you have to register with City Hall and the Post office when you move in, so I know where this things are… This would have all been avoided had I known the word for “Post Office” in Japanese… but alas, some things manage to slip my mind…

I get to the bus stop and I sit down. I check the schedule, and sure enough, there is a JR-highway bus (JR Hai-u-waii Basu) headed for Tokyo Station coming at 12:47. Suweet! I sit down to wait. It is 12:22. I crank up the MP3 player and settle in to some Pink Floyd.

A young woman sits next to me and, as if I didn’t exist at all, proceeds to read a newspaper. I’m good with this, that’s no different than any American city.

Then a little old lady comes over, with a young woman helping her. I stand up and offer her my seat (It’s not a big bench). She and I have a politeness war, but in the end, she sits down. Then she indicates that there is room next to her, and grins a huge grin at me,

“Please, sit down” she says in super-polite Japanese.

I smile and sit down next to her.

She then promptly pulls out a wrapped cookie and offers it to me,

“Here, try this.” She says,

“Thank you, but I’m okay, you have it” It’s really hard to match her super-polite Japanese, but I find polite Japanese easier than colloquial Japanese, so this is a better place for me.

“It’s tasty…” She says with a wonderful grin, “You should try to eat Japanese things.”

I can’t help it, I take it.

A bus comes and takes the young woman away, and no sooner than she has left, another little old lady has materialized, toddling her way across the street and into the place vacated by the young lady. The first old lady pulls out another wrapped cookie (They are all individually wrapped… something that happens a lot here in Japan), and the two strike up a very fast conversation that looses me. So I smile and let them alone… Back to listening to “Learning to fly”

Then another old lady shows up, so I offer her my seat, and we have a politeness war (Which I win ultimately by saying “I’m American, it’s my country’s tradition”) . All three of them are now chatting away happily.

It’s now 12:47, and a bus pulls up, so I go up to the driver and ask “Is this the bus for Tokyo Station?” To which he replies, “No, this is a local. The Tokyo Station bus will be here any minute.”

So I stand back and wait.

Three junior high girls whisk past on their bikes, these will be future students of mine… but they don’t know that. But the lead girl looks square at me and yells “Good Afternoon!” in Japanese as she passes… I smile and reply to her, a little stunned… That never happens in America.

Then yet another little old lady shows up, now there are 4 of them, happily chatting and eating cookies and being generally adorable.

It’s now almost 1PM when a huge greyhound-style bus pulls up, this is obviously my bus. But the third old lady looks at me, points to the bus, nods, winks and grins broadly.

I bow in thanks, smiling, this is a great little town. I think I’m going to like it here.

I get on the bus as a fifth little old lady comes over to the stop… I don’t know what bus they are getting on, but I kinda felt sad to be leaving them.

---

Tokyo is a 2 hour bus ride on an almost deserted bus (But expensive, it cost me about $13.00 for the ride into Tokyo). And as we get into town, the bus driver indicates that we are coming up on Ueno station, where one could transfer to the Ginza line of the Tokyo subway. Now, I know where my bank is in Ginza off of the Ginza line (I learned how to do it while in Training, when we 40 Gaijin assaulted the senses of the poor, unsuspecting Japanese people by being loud on said subway…), so I signal a stop and I get off the bus. I didn’t know that this would prove to be a very interesting problem once I try to return. But, being blissful and thinking myself awfully clever, I duck down into the Tokyo subway system and hop a subway over to Ginza.

Getting there was easy. Too easy… it’s like those movies where you know something is going to go wrong now…

I get my money, put it in my wallet (I have $1,000 in my wallet, and I have nothing to worry about, because pickpockets are almost non-existent in Japan… in fact, people routinely walk around with large amounts of cash…), and I hop the train back to Ueno.

I notice that the subway is going to pass Akihabara. This is the electronics capital of the world. You can get anything there… and, if you have your passport, sometimes you can get it tax free… I need to pick up some Cat5 cable and a hub so I can connect to the internet, so I decide to jump off, head over to Akihabara, and then I get back in the Tube to head back to Ueno.

It should be noted at this time that this is nowhere near the original plan, and I was all proud of myself for navigating Tokyo with such ease. I’m hopping stations, and jumping off and on trains like a pro.

I get to Ueno and I look for the bus stop…

It’s not there.

I’m a little alarmed, I got off the bus on that side of the street… where is the stop on this side of the street?

So, I ask a Policeman…

“Excuse me… I need to get to Moriya.”
“Moriya?”
“Yes, in Ibaraki.”
“Moriya city?”
“Yes. In Ibaraki”
“Please wait here.”
He goes and gets his supervisor, and older man who looks like I have been bothering him.
“You are looking for a train to Moriya?”
“No, I need to catch the bus.”
“Bus? There are no Moriya busses here, you need to go to Tokyo Station.”
“But I got off the bus over there.”
“You need to go to Tokyo Station.” Then he gives me the “Shoo off” gesture.
So I go into Ueno station, the second-largest station in Tokyo (The first largest being my destination, Tokyo Station)… during rush hour. Granted, it was a Saturday rush hour, but it was a rush hour nonetheless. I am a city boy, but this was more people than I have ever seen at one time… It was Union station… with twice the number of people.

Now, I’m pretty versed in the JR trains by now, and I just need to hop the Yamanote line (This is a train that loops around central Tokyo) three stops to Tokyo station.

I thought Ueno was a sea of humanity…

I drifted with the tide through Tokyo Station until I got to another policeman.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the busses are?”
He gives me a blank look and then he says “I’m sorry, I don’t know, but you can ask at the fare adjustment counter.”
So I do… and the fella gives me a very sad look and then pulls out a map (The Japanese always have maps, that’s how you know I’m not Japanese, I didn’t have a map…)
“You are here, at the South gate of Tokyo station… the Busses are here, at the North gate…you need to go outside (Because to go straight, I’d have to have purchased a train ticket), and go through this corridor, and over to this side of the building.

Did I mention Tokyo station is huge? I should. During typical rush hour on a week day a million people pass through the station per hour. Per hour… And the building can handle it.

Now I’m at the busses.

I ask the conductor at gate one about the Moriya bus.

“Moriya? Gate 3” I am finally on my way home…

I get to gate 3 and there are 5 lines painted on the ground… one for each of the 5 busses that stop at gate 3… the problem is that I don’t know my home city’s name in Kanji… so I have no idea what line to wait in…

“Erm… excuse me, this Kanji… does it say “Moriya”?” I ask a little old lady.
“No, that’s for a different city, Moriya is the pink line over here. And your Japanese is really good.” They all say that. I probably said “Bus thing purple rice with cow manure sauce.” But they all say “You are so good at Japanese!” I dither, like Japanese are supposed to do, thank her, and get in line, saying something like “Kanji is so difficult.”.
I then get barraged by a chorus of “Not as difficult as English.” From various little old ladies which are standing about me… They beamed in to say that, I swear… I didn’t see them there before… Either way, I really can’t argue with that.
“Are you French?” the first little old lady asks.
“Erm… no, I’m American.” I reply… French? Really? That’s a first.
“I went to New York once.” She says “sldkfgadf kvjanldfkj a;jgoeinv New York akjfv Don’t you think? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
This is a little alarming, I have no idea what she is laughing at, but I laugh with her, I guess I can’t argue with disparaging New York in any way…

Her bus comes and she gets on, as her bus pulls away, I wave at her and she laughs and waves back… We shared a little joke… I don’t know what that joke was, but New York is obviously the butt of it… so I guess its okay…

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…. Erm….right.

So I make it back, all by myself, navigating the third largest city in the world while not really speaking the language (Despite what the locals say… I know I am not doing so hot here…), and not even remotely following a plan, carrying no maps… and having only been here for three weeks. I feel like I can handle anything.

That is, until I meet my students in just a few days…

---Me.

I was, as my title says...

I went into training two weeks ago, and had no internet connection. Then I went back to stay with Maia, who has decided not to get internet, so again... no internet connection. Now I am home, in the boonies... and I have an internet connection again... And now I have sooooooo many stories it'll take a week to write them all out... :D

I'm back... thank you for hanging in there with me. :)

---Me.