let's play catch-up

I am abysmally behind. In my defense, blogger got blocked at school (where I usually played catch up, during exam time), and then I was busy, you know. Moving back to America.

So let's back, back, back, back it up (back it up!). The last big thing I wrote about -- other than the tragic passing of frisbee man -- was my brother's visit. ...In January. Hah! Needless to say, about a million things have transpired in the interim. Highlights!

Shamisen concert and enkai. Back in late January (I know, I know) my shamisen class did a free performance at an old folks home. Our teacher is a care worker there for his day job. I only found out about the concert three days prior, when Kawai-sensei casually mentioned it, and asked whether I wanted to come. I'd never seen the group perform before, so I thought it would be a good chance, and agreed. Then he said, "Good! You'll be playing four songs." What. I'd only been practicing for three months! Then he added, "And you'll play this one by yourself. Solo!" WHAAAT. I was pretty nervous about it, but in the end, it went off fine. Any mistakes I made were drowned out by the rest of the group, and the old people were mostly chill -- except for one sort of strange lady who was like an elderly groupie. She kept shouting compliments at me in English, and exclaiming about how handsome Kawai-sensei is, hahaha. Before the solo, Kawai-sensei had me stand up to introduce myself. First, he asked the audience, "Now, where do you think this young lady is from?" and one adorable old lady, who must not have been able to see very well, querulously suggested, "Kameoka?"

The enkai party afterwards was held in a colorful little crab shack all the way in Maizuru. We drove for a few hours to get there, and proceeded to eat an obscene amount of crab. There was also bar-wide karaoke, but fortunately, we were the only customers, so we could sing with abandon. The ladies in my shamisen class -- who upon further conversation, turn out to be mostly brassy old bachelorettes -- insisted that I go up and sing "the Titanic song!!!" And then I fell asleep in the van on the way home.

The Higashi-Uji English Seminar. Taking place in early February, this was round two for several of us AETs. Sponsored by Joanna's school, we went to a hotel in Kyoto city for two days and pretty much had nonstop English time with a class of her students. Games, cultural presentations, the city-wide photo scavenger hunt, and of course...the English skit contest. The students' skits were all pretty cute, and we AETs tried to make a Japanese one to break the ice. The premise was this: famous characters at a singles party, trying to make romantic matches. The cast list ended up something like this:

Joanna as Nami (a character from popular Japanese pirate show "One Piece")
Kristi as Hello Kitty
David as Batman
Sam as Sailor Moon (a Japanese schoolgirl turned fighter for justice)
Robbie as the Terminator
Ryan as Doraemon (Japanese blue robot cat from the future)
and myself as Hermione Granger, host of the party

It went over pretty well. The kids especially loved Batman and Doraemon's costumes, I think. In the end, only one match was made -- Hello Kitty ran off with the Terminator.

Day out with sannensee. So, a couple of third years from my school had been trying for some months to arrange an outing with me. (Extra cute because they aren't even students that I had taught! They just came to the teachers' room and started chatting to me.) We went to Kyoto Tower, which is pretty silly but has a nice view of the city. Then we stopped by a big temple called Higashi Hongan-ji, which I'd never visited before. This turned out to be hilarious, because there was a whole crowd of pigeons that you could feed some bird food. Saika, the slightly spastic ringleader of our group, decided to give it a shot, and was immediately set upon. I managed to get a video of the pigeons repeatedly dive-bombing her as she shrieks in a very un-Japanese way. It still makes me crack up every time I watch it! Afterwards, we wandered over to Kiyomizu Temple, where despite the cold rain, Saika convinced me to take my first and thus far only ride in a rickshaw. We finished it off with a return to Kyoto Station, and a nice round of student/teacher purikura -- photo stickers for everyone!

International Kids Carnival. On the last day of February, I volunteered at an event set up by the local International Association. Essentially, we set up a number of big booths representing different countries, each with different games and activities. I, of course, was working at the America booth, along with a few other local AETs and two student volunteers from my school. (Mimi and Yuiko, from my favorite class!) I ended up manning the face paint station all afternoon. Apparently, face painting is not something they do in Japan, but after a little coaxing, the kids all loved it! I even managed to convince the cameraman from a TV station covering the event to let me paint his cheek...and a few minutes later, he came back to get the other one done!

After all that, we had graduation, and a few staff parties, and preparations for the new school year. But during spring break, before the new school year got going in April, Joanna and I took an adventure trip to...VIETBODIA!!!

farewell, frisbee man

I can barely throw a frisbee, and this still makes me a little bit sad.

Besides, look at the guy's picture! Like if Christopher Eccleston had a mischievous younger brother. Who really liked space.

You know he had to be awesome!

winter break with onii-chan

Okay, just a little more catching up to do before this blog is actually up to date for once. Starting from the end of December!

For winter break I didn't travel anywhere...because my brother came to visit! We had a great time. It'd been ages since I had seen him, and even longer since we had much time just to hang out by ourselves. Reid stayed at my apartment in Sonobe, and we took a zillion day trips into Kyoto and its surrounds. (Plus one relaxing Sonobe day, where we just visited my school and took a walk around town.) I don't remember the exact order we did things in, but here's the basic list!

Sanjusangendo -- You may remember this place and a few of the following from the recap of my parents' trip. A really long and old wooden hall, filled with 1001 statues of the Buddhist deity Kannon...and that's not even counting the assortment of other important figures.

Kinkakuji (The Golden Pavilion) -- Literally coated in beautiful gold leaf, this was originally built as a summer palace by some important guy whose name I have forgotten, but after his death, the guy's son converted it into a shrine. This is one of my favorite spots in Kyoto, especially on sunny days, when there's an equally lovely reflection in the pond next to the pavilion.

Yasaka Shrine -- Just a little Shinto shrine that leads into Maruyama Park. This is a great way to enter the Higashiyama district, which is famous for several shrines and temples, plus some great traditional streets that really preserve the atmosphere of old Kyoto.

Kiyomizu Temple -- Probably the most famous temple in Kyoto, which is saying something. It has an iconic stilted deck, and provides great views of the city.

Nara Park and the Daibutsu (Big Buddha) -- I really love Nara, if for no other reason than the deer. Nara Park especially is infested with these totally unskittish deer, and the population can't be thinned because they just so happen to be sacred deer. You can buy deer crackers to feed them, and will immediately be swarmed. Don't let them eat your pants, even though they will try. Also, the Big Buddha at Todai-ji is always cool.

Fushimi Inari Shrine -- Another of my favorite places. A shrine that literally covers an entire mountain. There is a central shrine at the base, and various paths lined with sacred orange torii gates lead up to other mini-shrines and a spectacular overlook. Reid later cited this as his favorite place that we visited.

Universal Studios Japan -- It was really busy on the day we went, because it was a national holiday, but we got to do everything we wanted. (Well, except for seeing the Waterworld show. But maybe I'll go back one more time before I leave Japan.) I may have liked the Back to the Future ride the best, though our boat captain for the Jaws ride was pretty hilarious.

Arashiyama Monkey Park -- A bit of silliness. Haul yourself up this little mountain, and there are at least a hundred Japanese macaques lounging at the top, running free. You can feed them apples and peanuts and such, but only from inside a fence, so that the monkeys can't all mob you. (Thank goodness!) Also, you are strictly instructed not to look the monkeys in the eye, or they will lash out. Danger zone! It was a funny time, though, and Arashiyama was kind of pretty through that day's falling snow.

Osaka Castle -- The stronghold from which Toyotomi Hideyoshi united Japan. The inside has been converted into a museum, but the outside is still a gorgeous and imposing castle structure. We went here with one of my coworkers, Ueda-sensei, who is young and adorable and has the best English pronunciation of all the teachers at my school.

Koga Ninja Village -- This was a weird little park out in Shiga. It took forever to get there, and was sort of strangely dilapidated, but we enjoyed ourselves anyway. The best part was probably the preserved ninja house, which had all sorts of neat booby traps and hideyholes. In other news, turns out that I am awful at throwing shuriken ninja stars.

...And those were our main stops during the trip. Other than that, we mostly chilled in my apartment and watched an obscene amount of Doctor Who. (I got Reid hooked! Success!) Even though we were busy pretty much every day, there was just enough time in the evenings to watch all four seasons of the new show, plus a few specials from the last year. We may be crazy.

my students can be pretty creative when they want to be

Today in my third year junior high class, we were practicing making excuses. We played a game that involved presenting them with a situation, which they then had to improvise a response for. Here are some of the highlights:

-Don't use your cell phone in class!
-It was my sister. My mother is dead.

-You shouldn't eat that cake!
-The cake says "Eat me."

-You should buy me a ring!
-The ring has a demon.

-Why did you hit your friend?
-He killed my best friend.

-You should buy me a ring!
-I already bought it. (This boy is going to be popular with the ladies, I can tell.)

And to top it all off, one boy has created the premise for the next movie in the Speed franchise:

-Stop using the computer!
-If I stop, poor Africa children will die.

the paperwork is in

Okay, so it's official: I'll be headed back to America come late summer. After a lot of agonizing internal debate, I've elected not to renew my contract with the JET Program for another year. This was a difficult decision, because I have no real complaints about my position here; I have a great school, great coworkers, (mostly) great students, great friends, and a pretty sweet apartment. Moreover, I know that at least two out of my three closest friends are staying, and possibly all three of them. (If Neil will make up his mind, already!)

So really, my decision is not because I want to leave Japan, or any of the people here. I'd love to stay. (And/or airlift all my favorite people back to the States with me.) However, there are other things I want to do, too, and one of those things is to go back to grad school and get my teacher certification. As my plan stands now, I'm going to apply to a school in the Atlanta area, and if all goes well, start classes next spring.

I feel some guilt about leaving, because many people at my school have often and vocally expressed their wishes for me to stay, but I am at least relieved to say that Paul has decided to recontract. As long as he's here, I don't feel quite so bad, because he can train the new hire and generally hold down the fort. (Had we both left, which very nearly happened, it would have been a little bit crippling for our department -- they've come to rely on we AETs for a lot of lesson planning and various support. I'd hate to throw two totally green teachers at them when they're so busy already!)

For now I feel pretty good about this decision, though come July I'll probably be crying everyday. Already I'm making plans to try and keep in touch with my school in a meaningful way. And as for the students, well, thank goodness that my unofficially favorite class has recently discovered facebook!

So, that's that. On a slightly more frivolous note, here's some more cute student stories! Brought to you by class 2-5's country project presentations.

First, from Vatican City (which couldn't fail to be hilarious, as explained by clueless Japanese teenagers). Their presentation was fine, actually, until the Q&A. That class just so happened to have a German exchange student named Anja, who raised her hand and asked, "Do you know the pope's name, and what country he's from?"

Immediately, the girls starting sending each other panicked looks. Clearly, they don't know, so Paul starts mouthing "Germany!" at them. Saki, their de facto spokesperson, squints at him for a minute before proudly declaring, "His name is Pope Tommy!"

I'm still not sure the rest of the class fully understands why suddenly all four teachers (and Anja) burst into delighted laughter.

And Italy had a moment which was comical, and yet, sort of true. Upon listing their country's exports, the Italy group listed such gems as, "Wine, machines, and the mafia."

and oh yeah, silver week

So, just realized that in those two massive posts this morning, even despite their massiveness, I managed to forget about an entire vacation. Namely, when me and Jo went to Tokyo for Silver Week. Ha! There is a disparaging remark just waiting to be made here, but Tokyo is pretty okay, so I'll skip it.

Silver Week, much like Golden Week except that it doesn't necessarily happen every year, is a series of national holidays in September that line up to make a long weekend. In this case, a five day weekend. So, what do you do with a five day weekend? You grab a buddy and jump on the shinkansen bullet train to Tokyo!

In no particular order, the sights:

Harajuku -- So, anyone who even has a peripheral awareness that Japan is "hip" or that Gwen Stefani is a famous person has probably heard of Harajuku. This area of Tokyo is notorious for being populated by the young and the weirdly dressed. There is a particular bridge always photographed in travel books and fashion guides, where moody teens dressed as punk rockers, goth lolitas, and everything in between loiter to...well, to do nothing. Glare at the crowds, maybe. There is also a lot of shopping to be done here, much of it for clothing, and much of it for the type of clothing that would appeal to the above teens (and their less grumpy alt-rock counterparts). It's interesting, to be sure, but not quite as out there as people make it sound. Most people are dressed relatively normal (for Japan), so it's not like you've been swept away to a Marilyn Manson concert. At least, not quite.

Meiji Jingu -- Shrine to the Meiji emperor. Though it may surprise you, it's located right next to Harajuku, about a five minute walk from the Harajuku train stop. In fact, you have to cross the aforementioned weirdo bridge to get there, and the entrance to the shrine is visible almost immediately. Once you get through the first torii gate (marking your entrance into the realm of the gods), it gets remarkable peaceful for Tokyo. Broad paths lined with huge trees, winding through the forest for a pretty good distance before you reach the actual shrine. It's not the biggest shrine (though that might be my Kyoto snobbery talking), but it's a pretty nice one -- very serene and pleasant, and the surrounding forest grounds make up the space. There are also some little shops selling souvenirs (including cherry blossom sugar crystals, which sounded so charming that I almost bought them) and some mini museums. We stopped into one housing imperial relics. The most impressive thing was the full black coach emblazoned with the imperial chrysanthemum.

Sensoji Temple -- This is actually more of a temple complex in Asakusa. Probably the most popular in Tokyo, even. To enter the grounds, you have to go through a gate with a giant red lantern, done up with huge black kanji that read kaminari-mon, or, "Lightning Gate." Sweeeeeet! Once you're through, there's a long covered shopping arcade, with various gift shops. And finally, at the end of that, the temples. There's a whole collection of them, and wouldn't you know, there're festival stalls set up everywhere in honor of Silver Week. The temples were nice, but we probably spent as much or more time snacking on weird festival foods. Chocolate covered bananas, check. Shaved ice, check. Takoyaki fried octopus balls with whole tiny octopi inside? Well, that's different from the way we do it in Kansai, but hey, I'm game for anything. In the end, I think I prefer one small tentacle piece at a time. But we had fun naming the octopi as the were devoured, tiny faces and all. Alas, poor Franz, the last to go.

Ueno Zoo -- In terms of actual visibility of animals, this has got to be the best zoo I've ever been to. There wasn't a single one that we just couldn't see. The gorillas were just chillin', the elephants trundling merrily along, and the tigers were all like, "He~ey!" My favorites of the day might have been the big black bison, who just looked shaggy and huggable, and the giant anteater, who is my new boyfriend. As an added and geeky plus to this trip, I realized at one point in the zoo that we were walking through the location where a semi-important scene of the Japanese drama "Hana Yori Dango" had been filmed. Me and Jo both adore that show, and proceeded to have total girly meltdowns. I think we even took a video of ourselves just being there.

Meganebashi and the Imperial Palace Grounds -- You can't, of course, actually enter the Imperial Palace. Neither can you meet His Imperial Awesomeness. But you can poke around the gardens, and ogle the buildings from a safe distance. Perhaps the most picturesque place to do this is the area immediately surrounding Meganebashi, which literally means "Glasses Bridge." It's called this because of the double arched undercarriage, which reflected in the water forms two whole ovals that together resemble spectacles. As if this effect was pretty enough, from certain vantage points you can also see the white palace buildings in the background, making for a really nice composition.

Sunshine City Aquarium -- Let me be honest with you. If you are taking a vacation to Tokyo, do not bother with Sunshine City, nor its aquarium. Actually, Sunshine City is a pretty decent shopping mall, and the aquarium isn't bad. (Definitely nowhere near the enthralling grotesquery of Mongolia's Natural History Museum.) It just isn't worth going out of your way for if you've got limited time. Some neat fish, a brief birds of prey show, a mystery mammal that we couldn't find the name for, but suspiciously resembled a jackalope. (But those aren't real, right? Right?!) Also, why so many birds and mammals? Isn't this supposed to be an aquarium?

Yebisu Garden Place and the Yebisu Beer Museum -- Okay, let me be honest with you again, but this time in a "confession of my dorkitude" kind of way. At Ueno Zoo we accidentally found a scene from "Hana Yori Dango," but we specifically went to Yebisu Garden Place in search of one. (Specifically, the one where Domyouji waits by a sculpture in the rain for three hours because Makino has stood him up for their first date, but a guilty conscience makes her show up way late, and she discovers that he's still there just waiting for her, and then later when they get trapped in an elevator it turns out that Domyouji's got a fever from all the waiting. Ah, true love!) Of course, here comes the big cosmic joke. Perhaps the only time when I didn't want to see a beer festival, there is a great big beer festival totally surrounding -- and therefore, obscuring -- the sculpture where Domyouji spent those three hours. Curses, foiled again! On the upside, we did find the other two (peripheral) targets of our trip there, the Yebisu Beer Museum (the cretins sponsoring the festival) and the first official MLB restaurant in Japan. The beer museum was short and all in Japanese, but there was a sampler available at the end, and we had fun pretending to know about beer. And the MLB restaurant served seriously butt-kicking hamburgers, of a kind we hadn't had in at least a year and a halfish. Go figure, the chef owner had spent many years in America, no doubt perfecting both his English and said butt-kicking hamburgers.

Yasukuni Shrine -- A place that Joanna actually feared to go, but agreed to because I am geeky for war history and have big manipulative puppy eyes. The thing about Yasukuni Shrine is that it's extremely controversial. Every time a prime minister stops by, the entire nations of China and Korea start flipping out big time. You see, Yasukuni Shrine is dedicated to the Japanese war dead, and this makes China and Korea particularly nuts because there are fourteen class-A war criminals enshrined there. Your first impression upon entering is the usual torii gate, except that this one isn't usual at all. First of all, it's massive in size, probably one of the biggest, right along with Heian Jingu here in Kyoto. (According to wikipedia, it was in fact the largest at the time of its construction.) But more unusual, and more eerily striking, is the material. Almost all torii gates are made of wood, or occasionally stone. But the Yasakuni torii is weathered steel, and right away there's a perhaps unintentional feeling of the industrial, of ships and planes and war. Inside, the shrine itself is about what you'd expect from a shrine (especially if you'd been living in Kyoto for a year) but there is also a really interesting museum attached to the complex. I found this part absolutely fascinating, because it is a history of Japan's various wars...from Japan's point of view. Reading their take on conflicts up to and during WWII was totally captivating, partly because of the things they said, but more for the things they didn't say. I wish I could remember all the details now that I was spitting at Joanna then, but I guess that means I'll just have to visit again (and write my thoughts down this time).

Hie Shrine -- Even as someone who sees a lot of shrines, I found this one really lovely. It's set up on a hill in Akasaka, in the middle of Tokyo, quiet and surrounded by trees, but you can see buildings on the horizon (particularly, Prudential loomed nearby). Maybe it was that proximity between new and old, or maybe it was the lack of people, or maybe it was just the nice arbor we were sitting under, but this shrine absolutely relaxed me. It was so peaceful that I didn't want to leave -- Joanna eventually had to drag me away.

I think that about sums it up. We had a good time bopping around town, having constant and impromptu writers workshops, and accidentally running into parades of half-naked men. Oh, Japan, I love you.

fall term, part 2 (November - December)

On November 6th, class 2-5 (our aforementioned unofficial favorite class) went on a field trip to Make Elementary. It was a student teaching excursion, where they had to have simple conversations in English with the 5th and 6th graders. Since we weren't especially busy that afternoon, Paul and I got to tag along. I literally took over a hundred photos, and mostly just hovered around grinning like a proud mom. Really, I would adopt almost anyone in that class. America, be warned; they're all coming home with me!

On November 22nd, I had one of those great and hilarious Japan experiences that I will always treasure. Together with Fig and our pal Amanda from Wittenberg, who is now doing the English thing in Osaka, I made my way to the town of Takarazuka. Now, this town is famous for one major thing: a popular all-female theater troupe of the same name. I can only guess that it was started as a reaction to all-male kabuki troupes, and there are some vague similarities (mostly in the outrageous overstyling), but this is about as far from traditional Japanese theater as you can imagine. It is a grand spectacle of singing and dancing and crossdressing and outrageous costumes and really, shockingly amazing settings. Modern Japan, nutshelled?

To make the inherent craziness of this theater troupe even crazier, the show that we went to see was a Japanese language musical adaptation of "Casablanca." By funny coincidence, I had just seen the movie for the first time one week prior, when one of the English teachers decided to screen it for a class. Thank god, because I never would have been able to follow the plot of the musical if I hadn't already known what was going on. Anyway, the songs were mostly great, though sometimes the greatness was directly tied to the silliness. Mainly, the silliness factor was in the constantly rehashed Japanese cover of "You Must Remember This," and the totally bizarre blackface performance of "Knock On Wood." Oh, Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam. You are not really a black person.

That said, the actresses playing Rick and Victor Laszlo were completely awesome, and had really interesting and compelling singing voices. (Made intentionally deep, as they were pretending to be men.) I may have a weird girl-crush on one or both of them. There was also a revolving stage that they used to amazing effect, walking on and off of it while it was moving, and going from room to room in Rick's cafe. There was even one section in the middle of the revolving bit that could raise and lower like a box, revealing an entire room inside. (And the sets themselves, let me reiterate, were stunning.) Mostly, it was faithful to the film, following the story with very little deviation, but some embellishments. It ended the same, with Rick striding off into the fog, and I start getting my stuff together to leave.

LITTLE DID I KNOW. Apparently, it is a Takarazuka tradition to follow every performance with a crazy four or five song encore, in which the cast reappears in insane costumes that have been bedazzled with in an inch of their life and does a few gratuitous dance numbers. In the grand finale number, a huge set of stairs came out from the back wall of the stage, and everyone came dancing down them to thunderous applause. The three protagonists, for some reason, had these crazy massive turkey peacock feather halo tailpieces that bobbed around while they danced, and we just stared in awe. Fig said to me, "Let's cook them up for Thanksgiving!" and I said to her, "Humphrey Bogart is rolling in his grave."

Anyway, if you can't tell by my veritable essay of description, Takarazuka was awesome. We have tentative plans to go again this spring -- they're putting on "The Scarlet Pimpernel," which is one of my favorite stories. Score!

Now, back to normal life. On December 1st and 2nd, we had our annual Mid-Year Seminar for Kyoto JETs. I had to give a presentation on the exciting topic of, "Effective Use of the Textbook With Other Materials." With some input from my vice-presenter, Takemura-sensei, I put together a pretty respectable powerpoint presentation, and the whole thing went off without a hitch. I can honestly say I've never had a lot of trouble with public speaking, and its times like these that I'm glad for that skill!

That Friday was the end of term staff party, at which I ended up sitting beside my BFF, Hosoi-sensei (surprise, surprise). We're like staff party magnets -- we always, always end up sitting together. He's a little bit of a maniac (in the best sense), so more fun for me! Unfortunately, Paul couldn't make it to that or any other of the staff parties, because his friend David suffered a punctured lung and was in the hospital, so Paul went to be with him. It just punctured on its own while David was sleeping. Scary! Apparently it can happen spontaneously, especially to young, tall, slender men -- all of which apply to David. (Fortunately he made a full, if long, recovery, and is fine now! Bless his heart.)

On Sunday the 6th, as a culmination of several months' work, I took the Japanese Language Proficiency Test. I only took level 3, which is the second lowest, but I think I rocked it. The results still haven't arrived, alas, but I'm 90% positive that it was a pass, and maybe even a high one. I spent the day before in my apartment studying, and being total sweethearts, my Sonobe buddies Alex and June came by with cake for a study break Saturday evening. It's nice knowing people locally! Also an interesting point, when I actually got to the test site, in addition to seeing a lot of Kyoto JETs that I knew would be there, I ran into John Neal. (For those of you who don't know, John and I have lived on the same street in Atlanta for years and years, and went to school together from kindergarten all the way through high school graduation. He's now a JET in Shiga, a neighboring prefecture.) We hadn't seen each other in over a year, so we had a nice time catching up.

Then things started winding down into exams and Christmas classes at school, though I ended up missing most of the latter, thanks to...SWINE FLU!!! That's right, I survived the epidemic of the millennium. (Bearing in mind that there've only been ten years in this millennium so far.) I started feeling sick on a Sunday, but just crashed early and didn't worry about it. (On an unrelated note, that was the same day that I encountered a horror movie insect on my laundry: a hornet, longer than my thumb! TERRIFYING.)

Anyway, the next day I got up and went to school, though feeling a bit off. I thought maybe it was because I had skipped breakfast, or that I was coming down with a cold. The flu did cross my mind, but I dismissed it as the opposite of wishful thinking. Dire circumstances thinking? I sat at my desk for the first two periods, feeling kind of floaty and having trouble concentrating on my work. Then I barely made it through my third period class, actually having to sit down after giving them instructions. As we returned together to the teachers' room, Ueda-sensei asked me if I was okay, and suggested I go see the nurse, which I decide to do. I ask the nurse to check my temperature, and the results seem to startle her. "38.5 degrees!" Of course, celsius means nothing to me, so I ask, "Is that bad?"

Apparently, it's really bad. She told me that I should go home immediately and rest, and that I should go see a doctor tonight. Not tomorrow, not tomorrow morning even, but TONIGHT. I go back upstairs, and in the thirty seconds it's taken me to get there, the nurse has apparently phoned my supervisor (Wakabayashi-sensei) and explained the problem. He comes running over and pronounces, "You are not okay!" Within five minutes, they've shuffled me out the door, into a car, and back to my apartment, where I take the nurse's advice and go to sleep. A few hours later, Wakabayashi-sensei returns to take me to the doctor. The doctor is nice, but he tends to repeat himself a lot, and so for an hour I am sitting on a backless stool, getting progressively dizzier and just wanting to go home. They check my temperature again -- now, it's up to 39 -- and do a flue test. Bingo! I'm given some medicine and Wakabayashi-sensei informs me that, due to medical procedures outlined by the government, I am officially banned from school...for a WEEK.

To make a long story short, I spent that week eating Saltines and tangerines, watching TV, and not leaving my apartment. (Also forbidden!) On the upside, I had visibly lost weight by the end of the week! Too bad I probably gained it all back and more over vacation. :P Now I just need a record of my accomplishment -- maybe, "I Survived the Swine Flu and All I Got Was This Stupid T-Shirt!"

The day that I was pronounced safe to leave my house was, conveniently, also the day that my neighbor Sabrina was hosting a dinner party. I was so glad to get out of my apartment. The party was actually a matchmaking scheme by Jo Kan, an adorable New Zealander who lives one town over, who has seemingly made it her mission in life to set up all her single teachers with foreign girlfriends. There were some cute guys, and some numbers exchanged, but nothing has come of it so far, so let's leave it at that for now.

And that's the gist of it...at least, until MY BROTHER CAME!!!

But that's a story for another post.

fall term, part 1 (September - October)

I'm not sure when, exactly, we skipped from summer vacation to winter vacation. It may have something to do with fall term having been the absolute busiest of the four point five I've now lived through in Japan, both at work and in my personal life. At work, I and Paul have been kept hopping on any number of projects and requests, which can be hectic. However, I take it as a sign that we are considered useful members of the department, and plow cheerfully through!

As for extracurriculars, in addition to tea ceremony (which I've been studying a year now, since I got here), I've also been attending Japanese classes and shamisen lessons. The Japanese classes are actually not super useful, but it's been a good opportunity to connect with a few other foreigners in town. Sonobe now boasts seven of us altogether -- three JETs, three Interac (another English teaching company), and one mystery cyclist that we all see around town or in the grocery store. Out of that number, five of us attend the Japanese classes. Actually, we reached the end of the first run of lessons just before winter break, but if there's continued interest, the lessons will hopefully start back up again sometime.

My shamisen class, on the other hand, is populated by a bunch of old ladies, one middle-aged guy, and me. All the better -- Japanese ladies are hilarious! Our teacher is a man called Kawai-sensei, who is fantastically patient, especially with me and my bumbling. Shamisen, by the way, is a traditional Japanese instrument that looks something like a banjo. It's a lot of fun, but a bit tricky for me, A) because my hands are really small, and B) because most shamisen compositions are traditional Japanese folk songs, which I don't know and don't follow what I'd consider to be an intuitive western melodic progression. That is to say, sight reading is nearly impossible for me, because I can't figure out what the song is supposed to sound like!

So that's what's going on now. But, what's happened in the meantime? Let's see, starting from...September!

Before classes got started up again, we of course had the school festival and sports day. Both English clubs carried out a project. Junior high put together a pretty good performance of Snow White, and senior high made an absolutely hilarious video reenactment of the Lion King. It wasn't actually supposed to be as funny as it was, but we had no time, no budget, and no costumes, so it came off pretty slapdash...if by slapdash, you mean awesome. There was more dancing than usual too, this year, which was fun to watch. There were two separate presentations of "Thriller," complete with sweet Japanese zombie teenagers. And our unofficial favorite class won about a thousand awards -- every award they were eligible for, actually. The best part was during their traditional dance. The girls were all in little cotton yukata, dancing all cute, when suddenly they jump apart, and their homeroom teacher springs onto the stage and starts dancing with them! This is extra hilarious because the teacher is really tall, like a foot taller than any of them, plus he was wearing cat ears. (???) I got the whole thing on video, holla!

During sports day, I somehow ended up helping at the reception table for parents and guests, despite the fact that I'm not fluent in Japanese. It all went okay, though, because I only had to tell parents where to sign in, then give them a flyer and a visitor ribbon. Paul and I also ran in the teachers' relay...and lost, of course, but what do you expect us oldsters to do against the track team?

At the beginning of fall term, our work lives were dominated for weeks by the annual English speech contest. A lot of students made great speeches, but the two school-wide winners were both first years -- Asuka, who got first for her excellent pronunciation, and Ayaka, whose speech about children's books was well-written and frankly charming. Asuka even managed to pass through the next round, and went on to the area competition, but unfortunately, couldn't make it farther than that. They both performed well, though.

On September 12th, I and my pal Joanna went to a really cool art exhibition at Kyoto Kaikan. It was a huge show of the works of Seiji Fujishiro, who does stunningly intricate paper cutouts. They are displayed backlit, so the colors and scenes shine vividly. His work was really dreamy and childlike, and we enjoyed the exhibit a lot.

Time passed, some Australians visited our school, my umbrella got bent in a typhoon. On October 10th, a group of us JETs got invited to help out at a neighborhood festival in Momoyama. We got dressed up in festival coats, and the boys had to carry a giant contraption called a mikoshi on their shoulders. It had to way several tons, seeing as it took like forty guys in rotation to carry it. About halfway through our march around town, I and Kristi, a JET from Rokujizo, got tagged to help pull the ropes that stabilize the mikoshi. You see, now and again the men would stop and start jumping up and down with it, so we girls would just start hauling on the ropes and jumping backwards to maintain balance. It was fun, but actually really exhausting! I can only imagine how tired the boys must have been.

Through October and November, Paul and I taught the same five-week course for elementary school students that our school offered last year. This is lucky, because it means we got exchange holiday during winter vacation, saving a full three days of our annual leave. We also trucked our way through a series of Halloween classes, and on the Friday before Halloween, we both dressed up. Paul was an emperor penguin, and I had a full-body suit of Rirakkuma, who is a popular Japanese character. (He's a teddy bear, and his name is sort of a pun -- it literally means "relaxing bear.") Between the costumes and the candy that we were handing out, we caused a mob scene at school. Especially, when I made a special trip to visit class 2-5, they all started shrieking and pulling out their camera phones. I felt kind of like a rockstar, hahaha!

I wore the same costume on Halloween itself. We spent several hours at a party at an Irish pub called McLaughlin's, hanging out with nurses and greasers and President Obama. Then we stood around outside for awhile, being attacked by excited Japanese strangers who apparently love Rirakkuma. Finally, I joined the Kameoka crew on a trip to a rave at some place called Club Metro. It was crowded, and hot, and for some reason, the club is in a train station. But we had a pretty awesome time. I did, however, remember that I am officially getting too old for all-nighters. The train ride home at six a.m. was a serious struggle that I don't intend to repeat any time soon.

OH. MY GOD.

One of my students just came in 2nd in the 2010 Miss Japan Contest. WHAT. WHAT IS THAT.

15 year old Sayo Kojima

Go for it Sayo! English club co-president for the win! BAAAAAM!

facts you didn't know about the world around you

So, we're currently doing variations of the infamous "Country Project" in four classes -- three low-level first year classes, and in the second-year international course. Essentially, students have to research foreign countries, make a poster, and give a presentation about it in English.

Without further ado, I present you some of the first-years' funnier presentation quotes.



“People eat many food in Austria. For example, they eat potato food.”

“People eat many foods in Egypt. For example, they eat dove. It is doves chicken.”

“Many picture are famous in Italy. Monaliza is very famous. It is by Reonald."

“Europa is in Prague.”
Oh, yeah? Do they know that?


And, my personal favorite:
“People eat many foods in Australia. For example, they eat Genghis Khan.”

!!!

Tokyo Orientation, and Hoooong Koooong~!

I swear, time flies. Mostly when you're having fun, but sometimes when you're just plain busy.

I see that last time, I left off just before Tokyo Orientation. On Saturday, July 25th, I caught the shinkansen (bullet train) up to Tokyo, to the Keio Plaza Hotel in Shinjuku. It's the same hotel where we had orientation when I arrived last year -- that is to say, super swanky. The first day, we had some information meetings for orientation assistants. Then on Sunday, we spent most of the day at Narita Airport, directing incoming JETs to buses back into the city. I was the leader for bus #7, which got back to the hotel around 8 pm. That was a lot of fun, because as bus leader I got a microphone, and was able to answer questions and tell funny stories to the newbies on our way back.

The next few days were a blur of meetings and introductions and my j-pop presentation, all of which went well. My partner for the presentation, Hui Ling, was an adorable girl from Singapore. All the new Kyoto JETs, for whom I was solely responsible, seem to be a good crowd. There is a certain someone that for all his friendly and outgoing energy seems a little bit KY (kuuki yomenai -- unable to read social situations) and I think he may give Amy, our prefectural advisor, a heart-attack. But otherwise, everyone is lovely, and I made several new friends among the other orientation assistants.

My new coworker at Sonobe is this South African guy named Paul, and he is wonderful. A psychologist by trade, he is just the sweetest, politest, most optimistic person. All of the students love him -- especially the girls! Paul doesn't speak any Japanese, so I'm always trying to tell him what the girls are saying: "They think you're really cool," or, "They want to know how tall you are," or even on one occasion, "She thinks you smell really good." (By the by, at 190ish centimeters, Paul is the tallest teacher at our school, just beating out the principal.)

Just a week after Paul got here, though, I abandoned him to go on vacation in the last stretches of summer holiday. Together with my erstwhile travel companions, Jo, Fig, and Mike, the four of us set off for...HONG KONG!

If you count the travel days at either end of the week, our trip totaled 10 days. We stayed at the Prudential Hotel in Kowloon. It was a great stay, and I would recommend this spot to anybody! First of all, the rooms were super nice -- more than large enough for two people. Double beds for all, holla! And we had a nice view out of our giant window. There was a lot of interesting stuff and nice restaurants within walking distance, besides the hotel sitting practically on top of the nearest train station. Plus, the rooftop swimming pool was almost always empty, so we popped up for a leisurely swim whenever we had nothing else to do and the weather was nice. (Alas, the weather got really rainy for several days in the middle, thanks to typhoon Morakot. But we just used those days as an excuse for museums!)

Anyway, on to the highlights!

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Po Lin Monastery and the Tien Tan Buddha -- On Lantau Island. The train system doesn't cover all of Lantau, so at the last stop, we had to switch onto the Ngong Ping cable car. It was a really long lift ride, and pretty scenic, going over a bay and some mountains to reach the village around Po Lin. The walk to the monastery was a quaint cobbled road lined with souvenir stores and gelato shops. The Tien Tan Buddha, which had been massively visible even from the cable car, loomed over the area. The big bronze buddha is 34 meters (that's 110 feet) tall, seated on a lotus throne and surveying the countryside from the top of a high hill. Po Lin Monastery faces the buddha, across a sort of courtyard at the base of the hill. It wasn't huge, but it was very ornately presented. I particularly loved the winding dragons carved into the stone columns which supported the building. After wandering around for some photos, we ate lunch at the monastery's famed vegetarian restaurant. It was a set lunch, and apart from the soup appetizer - weak, dirt-flavored potato water that made me feel not unlike a medieval peasant - it was all pretty good. We ate until stuffed, and still couldn't quite finish everything. As elsewhere in Hong Kong, there was bizarro Mao merchandise available, and I made off with a tin-sided Mao CD case. Red, of course.

The Peak -- On Hong Kong Island. Pretty literally what it sounds like. The Peak is a mountain overlooking the city center, reached by a steep train line ending at a mountaintop shopping mall. There is a fantastic view from the roof, from which you can see the ocean on several sides. There are also about a million more souvenir shops (many of which we patronized) and apparently a wax museum. We didn't visit the latter, though I did insist on having a picture together with the promotional Jackie Chan figure. Heart Jackie!

Avenue of the Stars and the Hong Kong Light Show -- The southern tip of Kowloon Peninsula, at Tsim Sha Tsui. This is Hong Kong's answer to the Hollywood Stars. All the greats of HK cinema - many of them martial artists - have left their name and handprints here to be goggled at. We found Jet Li, Chow Yun Fat, Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung, and many more...including, of course, the untouchable Bruce Lee. He has a statue near his star, in front of which we all posed, mimicking his fierce kung fu! I also geeked out over a little store dedicated completely to Jackie Chan. In addition to all this, the avenue runs along the harbor front, with the absolute best view of the famous Hong Kong skyline. In the evening, the avenue is crowded with visitors, all eyes on that skyline for the Hong Kong Light Show. Music comes on over the PA system, and in a cool feat of collaboration, decorative lights go crazy on the opposite shore's office buildings, choreographed with the music. Not super amazing, but charming, especially to think how all those big corporations came together just to do something trivial and fun.

Hong Kong Museum of Art -- Near the Avenue of Stars in Tsim Sha Tsui. This museum was honestly so-so, but that may be due in part to several of the exhibits being closed for renovation or change or something. Much of the painting, especially modern, didn't suit my taste, though...a little too on the simple folksy side. After a point, I feel like any five-year-old could have done the same, you know? But I did get one nice print in the museum shop, of someone playing a flute.

Temple Street Night Market -- Smack dab in the middle of Kowloon, near Jordan, and thus, our hotel. I think we walked over after dinner one night. There were lots of wacky stalls selling wacky merchandise, much of it probably knock-off. There was a ton of Mao stuff here, so I bought a few funny souvenirs, and some interesting old communist posters for myself. (I've been pretty into art lately, as you may have noticed.)

Temple of Ten Thousand Buddhas -- In the New Territories. The first and only Chinese graveyard that I've encountered, this was one of my favorite spots in Hong Kong. Really interesting! As opposed to headstones, there are rows upon rows of cubical rooms, almost like a rental storage facility in layout. (But nicer, of course, and peppered with buddha statues.) Inside each room, the three free walls are covered floor to ceiling in memorial plaques, most often with a photo of the deceased. I'm not sure whether ashes are interred behind each, or what. In any case, this temple went up and up and up a mountain, and it was fantastic and oddly enchanting, even in the seriously pouring rain. My only regret / complaint is that the upper reaches were sealed off - a shame, because we could see an interesting and different landscape starting just beyond. At least I befriended the temple cat, after an intensive ten minute petting session. BFF!

Hong Kong Museum of History -- Somewhere in Kowloon...I forget, but we walked there from the hotel. Now this was a fascinating museum. I didn't know much about Hong Kong to begin with, apart from it being sort of colonized by the British, and this museum was a great way to learn more. The exhibits were vast and detailed, with pretty much an entire period piece neighborhood contained inside. Really, you could go up back alleys from post offices to school rooms to grocery shops temples to western dining rooms. It was like stepping back in time!

Man Mo Temple and Cat Street -- On Hong Kong Island. Man Mo temple seems to have an interesting story, being dedicated to two deities that I would not intuitively associate; the god of war, and the god of literature, respectively. But the temple itself was not super extraordinary. As in some other HK temples, I found myself mostly captivated by the huge spirals of incense hanging from the ceiling. Even apart from smelling wonderful, they were aesthetically captivating. Cat Street is a nearby street market, selling much of the same weird Chinese goods and statuettes. I found a little statuette of a dragon, but instead of the dog-lion dragons I'd normally associate with Chinese tradition, it looked more like a panther. Now it lives on my coffee table.

Peking Restaurant -- Okay, this isn't exactly a sight, but if any of you ever go to Hong Kong, definitely visit this place. It's on Nathan Road, right across the street from Jordan station. We liked it so much, we actually ate here twice. The wait staff were super nice, even though we were the only foreigners in the place on both occasions. But more importantly, the food! Everything we tried was good, from the crispy rice soup to the fried bananas, but the real show stopper was of course the Peking duck. I'd never had it before, and let me tell you, in China is the way to start! So delicious. I can't even put it into words. Except that now I'm hungry.

The Noonday Gun -- Along the waterfront at Causeway Bay. We more or less found this by accident, and I'll admit, including it here is sort of a joke! We'd read about it in the guidebook, and its historical significance...something about the British firing it at noon, I don't know. So we were kind of amused to find it, especially since in real life, it is a really small old canon, painted blue. End of story.

Jade Market -- Kowloon, A long building crammed with stalls selling exactly what you'd expect -- anything and everything jade. (And, for some reason, Bruce Lee playing cards.) There was a lot of jewelry, beads, figurines, and the like, on and on and on.

And also, our day trip from HK to Macau!

St. Paul's Cathedral -- Only the front facade of this cathedral remains, which makes it almost more striking. The facade, though the only wall standing, seems in almost perfect condition, beautifully constructed with carvings and statues. Through the gaping windows, there is only open blue sky. You can see the facade for some time coming, as it sits at the top of a rise, with gentle European bricked roads winding down through the city, lined with sweet shops and souvenirs and even a Starbucks. The whole area was the most beautiful mix of sub-tropical and what I imagine Italy or Spain to look like. Thank you, Portuguese colonialists!

Monte Fort and the Museum of Macau -- Situated right next to St. Paul's, this old fort holds a commanding view of Macau. You can see all the nice pseudo-European architecture, right next to a variety of surprise!casinos. Many of the casinos were actually quite pretty, though, not necessarily detracting from the view. There were a ton of old cannons and the like still stationed around the ramparts, and the center of the fort now houses the Museum of Macau. This museum did a lot of the same things right that the Hong Kong Museum achieved -- intricate reconstructions, photo exhibits, et cetera, though generally on a smaller scale than the aforementioned.

Casino Lisboa -- I suspect named for Lisbon. This crazy golden structure dominates the Macau skyline, but somehow sort of compliments the scenery around it. It's like something out of George Lucas' mind, were he designing a delicate, futuristic elf city.

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So there you have it. A nice trip, complete with a real-life Miyazaki character ("Fried noodow?!"), Polish escape tactics ("What? What?! I don't understand!"), insistent salesmen ("You look very nice! I respect you!"), and Giordano shirts for everyone (except for Mike, even though - or more likely, because - his last name is Giordano.)

the past two months

The upcoming weeks will be quite busy, so I'd better try to fill in the gap between Mongolia and the present before things get even more out of hand!

May 16th was a barbecue at a park in Kameoka. A lot of people turned out, and we had a really nice time. Nelis was in rare form that day, being totally silly. A bug got in his shirt, so he named it She and claimed it was his girlfriend. And during a conversation about mukade, the giant poisonous centipedes that roam Japan searching for victims, we had the following exchange.

Nelis: I like mukade.
me: What?! They're little black death machines!
Nelis: Have you ever spoken to a mukade? They're actually quite nice.

Nelis and I also made friends with a part-time English teacher named Minako, who by all appearances was a normal delicate little Japanese woman. When she heard that Nelis was South African, this happened!

Minako: Oh, I've visited there twice.
me: Really? Why?
Minako: For the World Power-lifting Championships.
me: What?! Did you compete?
Minako: Yes.
me: Did you win?
Minako: Second place.
me: !!!
Nelis: Could you lift me?
Minako: Easily.

Quelle suprise! Anyway, Joanna and I had to leave the barbecue a little early, which was maybe for the best, because shortly thereafter the police arrived to break up the party. I guess it was a slow day for crime in Kameoka, because apparently there were thirteen officers -- probably the entire staff of the local police box.

After the barbecue I went with Joanna and Alex R. to see a kabuki play. I don't remember now what it was called, but it involved probably the wackiest stage fighting I had ever seen, despite most of the play being a drama. These two guys staged a fight at an old mill, which actually had a giant pool of water with it on stage. First they fought across the roof, then one fell into the water, and then we he tried to climb up the waterwheel, the waterwheel actually started spinning him around on stage! It was ridiculous! Eventually the two samurai were both in the pool having a splash fight, not to mention intentionally soaking everyone in the front rows. And at one point they lost their swords and started hitting each other with carrots. Very funny!

On May 23rd, a group of us (me, Joanna, Neil, Alex, and Joy) climbed Mt. Hiei, which is along the border of Kyoto and Shiga prefectures. There are some nice temple complexes at the top, not to mention some absolutely breathtaking views of the surrounding area. By the time we got to the top, though, we were all sweaty and tired...so now that I have the moral superiority of having climbed it, next time I'll take the cable car!

Towards the end of May, Alex R. kickstarted a series of movie nights at his apartment, beginning with Jean Claude Van Damme's epic "Bloodsport." In later weeks, this would be followed with "Big Trouble in Little China," "Half-Baked," and the JCVD classics "Kickboxer" and "Double Team." I also had the boys over to my place one afternoon for a "Space Jam" and "Live Free or Die Hard" double feature that was pretty grand.

We also went to see the new Star Trek movie as soon as it came out. Totally awesome! When it ended, I just wanted to stay in the theater and watch it all over again.

The evening after our recontracting seminar (which was largely not worth mention), Hosoi-sensei had organized a staff party with the teachers from our old section, like a mini-reunion. We had a lot of fun, and I got to spend most of the night talking to Kaneshiro-sensei, who I would definitely marry, if only he weren't married already. In the process, though, I managed to make a Japanese mistake that is now tied for first with one I made in college. (The college mistake was during an interview test, where adding an extra syllable changed "Where does your family live?" to "Where does your pirate live?" Apparently Imai-sensei's pirate lives in Tokyo.) The mistake this time was when I was trying to say I was recently being kind of lazy about studying. I switched the word for lazy person, "namakemono," with the word "bakemono." Kaneshiro-sensei looked mighty surprised, and upon consulting my dictionary, we discovered that I'd just told him I was the boogeyman. Whoops!

After a few drinks, Hosoi-sensei decided to make a short speech about each person present. They were all like, "Oh, Ueda-sensei has finished her first year, congratulations..." and "Kristin always works so hard..." I was sitting next to him, so the speech about me was last. Hosoi-sensei is my best buddy at school, and was a little drunk by this point, so his speech about me went something like this. "Anna wore her hair down at work today. I asked her if she had cut it, but she didn't." Okay, what? And then, "Anna is...crazy." THANKS, HOSOI-SENSEI.

On June 6th, we went out to celebrate my friend Neil's birthday. We got together eight people and went to Karafune-ya, a huge ice cream parlour. Neil had preordered a one hundred dollar parfait. It was gigantic. The size of my entire torso. The eyes of every Japanese person in the restaurant were transfixed as the eight of us faced off against the parfait, and eventually (eventually) won. I think we needed closer to twelve people, from the way we all staggered out afterwards.

School has been busy, with various exams and interview tests and the speech contest, not to mention 800 goodbye Kristin classes. A lot of the junior high kids sang songs for her, which were totally adorable. "I'll Be There" by the Jackson 5 was a particularly challenging choice. We also had goodbye English Club meetings, for one of which I shelled out money for a nice goodbye cake. It was a pain to get, but made worth it by the students' joy for cake.

After school on June 26th, I went with Kristin and Sumiko (our tea ceremony teacher) to a really cool pottery exhibit at the little Sonobe museum. We were the only people there apart from the potter, so we were able to talk to him for awhile. His art involved a lot of animals and sea creatures. My favorite was this beautifully detailed and stylized octopus that sort of resembled Cthulhu, if Cthulhu were pretty.

On July 12th, we went to see kabuki once again, this time in Osaka. It was a kabuki production of Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night" (my favorite of his comedies), and it was absolutely stunning. It opened with three little boys singing a beautiful rendition of "O Come O Come Emmanuel" in Japanese. The same actor played both Sebastian and Viola, with by far the most unbelievable quick-changes I have ever seen. The sets were all gigantic, and there were probably a good ten of them, including a boat that actually traveled around the stage and an intricate cherry tree that actually had blooming branches drooping down over the actors. Everything was perfect and wonderful and lovely and comic. It was a great performance.

Tuesday the 14th, I took an hour and a half of annual leave to escape school early. Then I caught a train through Osaka to Hyogo, for my very first Hanshin Tigers game! It was so exciting. I adopted the Tigers as my Japanese baseball team three years ago when I studied in Osaka, but I'd never had a chance to go to a game. I wore my Toritani jersey, and bought a matching hat at Koshien stadium. The crowd was crazy, with all sorts of organized cheers that were specific to each Tigers player. The Tigers won 5-4 over the Chunichi Dragons, and the fans went wild! Twenty minutes after the game ended, we were all still in the stands, singing the Tigers theme song and the song for Hiyama, the MVP.

Finally, this past weekend! Sunday was the JET goodbye party in Kameoka, for all the folks who are leaving (or have already). We were walking to the venue, Liz's apartment, when the bottom dropped out and we were caught in the middle of a freaking flash flood. Our umbrellas helped almost none, and by the time we got to Liz's place, everybody was completely soaked. She gave us some towels, thank goodness, and the party was a lot of fun from there on out. A bunch of us stayed the night, and then went out for a late breakfast the next morning. Liz was kind enough to lend me an overshirt -- the one I had been wearing the night before had gotten crazily stained during the rainstorm (I think from my leather bag, somehow).

Monday was a holiday for Marine Day. (Marine as in the ocean, not the people. When I heard this was a national holiday, I thought, "Marine Day? Really? Well, I guess we have Arbor Day. But wait, we don't get a day off for Arbor Day. So it's still silly!") We did some shopping and said goodbye for now to Alex Ma. As Alex R. said, "It smells like burning marshmallows. Is Alex Ma on fire?"

After school on Tuesday I had to run back into the city, this time for Alex R.'s goodbye. We ate donburi at a restaurant we are fast becoming regulars of, had a beer at Ing Bar for old times sake, and did purikura together. Alex technically left Wednesday, but it's terrifically strange to try and envision our group without him. I hope someday we can really have our 2009 JETs Reunion Party back in America.

Nelis has also gone, and I probably won't see Liz again. The newbies start arriving in Japan on Sunday. I am leaving tomorrow morning for Tokyo, where I've been tagged to serve as a Tokyo Orientation Assistant. I get to meet them at the airport, and answer their questions at the hotel, and present a seminar about J-pop to several hundred people. (Death!) Then I will help escort all of the new Kyoto JETs back here. Among the group will be Paul (my new coworker), Paul's significant other (Liz's replacement), and Sabrina (my new neighbor). I haven't spoken to or messaged any of them yet...I hope they are cool people!

And wish me luck on my presentation. I have a sneaking suspicion that we're going to end up kind of winging it. :P

everybody wants to go to MONGOLIA!

I finally finished writing about Mongolia! It's practically a book. Please bear with me.

So, Mongolia was a pretty wacky experience, and I know no other way to do it justice than in excruciating detail. In fact, there is far too much to say for one post, so I am hitting it day by day. If you want to do things chronologically, please scroll down down down to the first post about Ulaanbaatar and work your way up from there. I think you'll have to go back a page, actually.

After this, I get to play catch up for the past two months. Oh boy.

Mongolia -- Day 10 and 11 (the end)

The last two days are a little blurry now, because I didn't make any notes at the time. (Whoops!)

One morning we went to Choijin Lama Temple, which was maybe my favorite place in UB. It was small, but beautiful and ornate. The art of Chinese-influence Buddhism is significantly different from the Buddhism in Japan -- namely, more violent and prone to linger on the Buddhist hells. It was really fascinating. In the makeshift gift shop (housed in a ger), I bought a bunch of little hand-painted cards as omiyage (souvenirs) for some of my coworkers and friends.

We found a statue of Lenin, and visited the Victims of Political Persecution Museum. It was contained in an old house (belonging to a previous prime minister that had been persecuted). The exhibits were mostly about the occupation by Soviet Russia, only half translated into English, and consisted of a lot of old photos and personal stories. The most suddenly stunning part was when you walked into a small room upstairs and came face to face with a plexiglass case full of human skulls, most with bullet holes. They were from a mass grave of 600 people that had just been discovered in about 2006.

We also tried to find the Modern Art Museum, but when we finally did, we discovered that it had been pretty much destroyed in a fire that caught from the bank next door.

At the guest house, we spent more time hanging out with Nasaa, as well as this guy Go from Tokyo. We watched a pretty crazy and kind of low-budget music competition show (essentially Ulaanbaatar Idol), and helped Go learn the words to "Stand By Me."

At last, it was time to depart. Nasaa and Urnuun's mother came with us to the airport. As we drove there, we passed the end of some Buddhist festival, and saw these flaming lanterns flying up into the sky. It was a nice image to end on, I think.

We had a great time in Mongolia. I wouldn't mind going back, though I'd much rather spend time in the countryside than in the city!

Mongolia -- Day 8 and 9 (Back in the UB)

The day after we got back from our tour, Chanaa escorted me, Fig, and Pasi on the one hour walk to an absolutely giant outdoor marketplace that was literally called "The Black Market." It was divided into vague quadrants, where you could find clothes, or antiques, or furniture, or anything else that occurred to you. There were probably fifty stalls just selling shoes.

We bought various souvenirs, and I managed to get a copy of the epic kayak album by Javhlan that we'd been listening to all week. It is amazing in the absolutely silliest way. Javhlan's sound is difficult to describe, except maybe like weird nomad opera? I saw him filed in a music store under "Country," which kind of made sense thinking about the actual Mongolian countryside -- though it is definitely Mongolian country music, bearing little or no resemblance to the American counterpart.

We grabbed a late lunch at a cafe Chanaa recommended, stopped by Hi-Fi Music for a few more Mongolian CDs (I think Fig had accumulated something like six by this point), and then Fig and I went out for dinner.

The next morning we spent some time watching the music channel with Nasaa (the hostel housekeeper), and then walked to Gandan Khiid. Gandan Khiid is a pretty cool monastery in the north-west corner of Ulaanbaatar. There were a lot of students there for some kind of graduation ceremony or trip, and a huge flock of pigeons trying to terrorize the public. The main building had a giant bronze statue of a standing Buddha, and a ton of smaller Buddha figurines lining the walls top to bottom. There was also a long line of these things that I think are like prayer wheels, stretching all along the inside and spinning constantly as the line of people ran their hands over them.

After lunch we next went to the Fine Art Museum and the attached Red Ger Gallery. Both were quite interesting. The Fine Art Museum had a lot of traditional works, including some intricate and heavy-looking festival masks and an absolutely stunning mandala model. It was about as big as a car, built in the shape of a finely detailed palace with various deities and decorations abounding. The Red Ger Gallery held more modern art, several pieces of which really impressed me. I particularly liked the paintings of one E. Tsolinonbat, but I can't seem to find him (or her) online anywhere for more information. (By the way, Dad, this is where I bought your painting!)

That night, Chanaa had invited Fig and I to dinner at her house. It was our first opportunity to see an urban dwelling. Chanaa lived with her husband and her two or three year old daughter, Anojun, in this tiny one room house tucked into a crowded neighborhood. (What we in America might consider a slum or at least projects, though I think it was fairly standard for UB.) There was no bathroom (or, I think, running water) so there was a tiny outhouse shack in the yard and Chanaa had to fill the teapot from a bucket. But inside the house was clean and decently furnished, and Anojun was an absolute pistol. She and I played a sort of strange game that involved spinning a plastic radish, which for some reason tickled Anojun to no end.

After a while, we were joined by a friend of Chanaa's husband, who was a big merry guy. (He lied to us about being a Mongolian wrestler, and told us that Japanese men must be crazy if we didn't have boyfriends.) Also, a neighborhood boy of perhaps seven came over to play with Anojun. The food was plentiful and great (oh, that I could cook like Chanaa) and we had an all around lovely time.

Mongolia -- Day 7 (the return)

The fifth day of our grand countryside excursion was mostly consumed by driving back to Ulaanbaatar, being forced to practice the "mama song" a million times in the van. None of us were totally eager to get back to the city, so instead, Ankha kept insisting that we were driving to the moon.

We stopped at the same Nowheresville town that had surprised us with the maid uniforms on the first day, and several children kept eying us through the windows. Taking the initiative, I grabbed a can of Pringles we'd brought in the van as a snack, jumped outside, and started dispersing stacks to them. ("Pringles For the Children" has a nice ring to it -- brand new charity?)

We stopped on a hill with a nice view of the rolling countryside to have lunch, Ankha getting up to his usual antics and dancing around on the roof of the van. But all too soon (boy, I cannot stress too soon enough) we were back in UB.

After fifteen minutes at a police checkpoint, we entered the city, passing a building called "The Akuma Center." (This elicited another laugh from all of us, because "Akuma" means devil in Japanese.) Back at Idre's Guesthouse, Ankha led us in our final rousing rendition of the "mama song," delighting (or at least amusing) the Mongolian staff. We bid farewell to our tour mates, and immediately ran for our first shower in five days. I don't think I've ever needed one more in my life.

Tired, we just grabbed some spicy ramen noodles from the weird little grocery store across the street. But at nine o'clock, we had agreed to go out with Pasi, our pre-tour Finnish friend. We walked across town (which I definitely wouldn't do in Ulaanbaatar without a male escort) to the so-called Club Dorgio. It was sort of underground, with tables arranged in tiers like auditorium seating. There was a live band, and we were just enjoying the atmosphere when, bam! The lights go out.

And they stay out. They stay out for fifteen or twenty minutes. But no one leaves! The bartender dispenses candles with such competence that I think this happens not irregularly, and then service continues as normal. (Though finding the bathroom in the dark was something of a challenge.)

Then we made one more stop at a mostly empty though quite swanky place called The History Club, which had the most eccentric menu I've ever seen. (The only thing approaching it is Ing Bar in Kyoto, which boasts the "world famous garlic festival.") The History Club's menu offered such amenities as:

African Salad
Vodka with traditional horn glass
Traditional throat song
Mongolian girls dance
"History"

But they were out of pretty much everything we ordered. No African salad...no History (that's right, no History at the History Club). All they had was french fries, so we ordered them twice back to back. (And no, we didn't have the guts or the money to order the Mongolian girls dance.)

Mongolia -- Day 6 (Kharkhorhiin and Erdene Zuu)

In the morning we bid farewell to ger number three and Mogi, our horse guide. He grinned his mostly toothless smile and blushed heavily when I told him, "Mogi, bi chamd hartzee!" ("Mogi, I love you!")

In the afternoon, we arrived via our bushwhacking van at the (very) small city of Kharkhorhiin, site of Karakorum, the ancient capitol and vaunted city of Chinggis Khan. Our fourth ger was among a whole cluster of guest gers, and we were excited to finally take a shower after four days running around on smelly animals...only to discover that the shower facilities were out of water. One more night among the unclean!

While Chanaa made lunch, Ankha decided that he was going to teach us the so-called "mama song." By this point, we had been listening to Javhlan (the kayak guy) on repeat almost nonstop for the past three days, so we all knew the tune like it was our national anthem. He painstakingly wrote out the first couple verses in the English alphabet (though Mongolians actually use Cyrillic) and started drilling us mercilessly. "Study! Study! Boma, come in!" I'm pretty sure we mangled the pronunciation, because Chanaa just started laughing when she heard us.

Next we visited Erdene Zuu monastery, the oldest Buddhist monastery in Mongolia. There were several buildings with various Buddhas enshrined inside, with stunningly colorful decorations. The ceilings in particular were painted in breathtaking patterns. The monastery was also host to a tiny marketplace, simply of blankets on the ground covered with trinkets, where we did some souvenir shopping.

To our surprise, there were several more girls in French main uniforms. I looked at Chanaa askance.

Me: Wait a minute. Chanaa, are those uniforms for every school?
Chanaa: Yes!
Me: Did you wear one in high school?
Chanaa: Yes!
Me: Oh my god! I want to see a picture!!

Alas, I never did. But Chanaa did explain to us that the uniforms had been imposed when the Russians took over. (Figures, hahaha.)

After Erdene Zuu, we stopped in the actual Kharkhoriin market to by (yet more) mutton, which was basically kept just sitting in huge chunks on tables in a bare white room. Fig and I didn't linger, instead wandering around outside, watching children in raggedy three piece suits playing pool on outdoor pool tables. Yuichiro wanted to stay and look around, insisting that he could walk back when he was finished, so we left him there (despite Ankha's cutely parental protests).

In the hour or so that it took Yuichiro to make his way back to the ger, Ankha spent most of it rolling around on Yuichiro's bed moaning, "Why, Boma, whyyyy? Boma where? Boooomaaaaaa!" And according to Chanaa, he wouldn't let her start dinner, because it needed to be hot when Yuichiro came back to eat. Hahaha, what a little dad.

That evening, a man (with excellent English) came and gave a concert at our campsite. He demonstrated traditional Mongolian throat singing and a several Mongolian instruments. (One which greatly resembled the Japanese koto.) Fig bought his CD, and I'm pretty sure that between the two of us we got the entire concert on video.

Afterwards, a group of Americans from another ger came and chatted with us for awhile, apparently using their recent layoffs as an excuse to travel abroad. At least one of them had been to Japan recently, so we spent some time discussing the things he'd seen and done.

But after they left, the gobi monster finally made his move! Switching off the lights, Ankha started growling and laughing like a crazier and more threatening Vincent Price. Needless to say, there was a lot of shrieking and pouncing and me holding a chair in front of me in self-defense.

Mongolia -- Day 5 (to the lake and back)

We started the day with bathroom adventure #3 -- no bathroom at all. We three girls (I, Fig, Miho) had snuck out the night before into the nearby woods, yelling "Hootie-hoo!" to keep track of each other in the dark. (A brief homage to Top Chef's Carla.) But in the morning light, it became evident that the woods were not as thick as one might hope for privacy, so there was some definite unease as we each tried to find a secluded enough spot and then keep our eyes peeled. This might have been all fine and forgettable, but...

As I was walking back to the ger, I suddenly heard Fig shriek in the woods behind me. "Oh my god!" Turning, I saw the source of her distress -- a guy on a motorcyle passed me with a vague grin, having evidently just motorcycled right past Fig. So much for the empty Mongolian wilderness.

We rode for two more hours on horseback, this time up into the wooded mountains that bordered the valleys. Most of the time we had to ride single-file, so it was very quiet and peaceful. Our goal was a pretty lake, which was still largely covered in ice. In some patches, the ice had melted into strange, spiky sheets stretched across the surface. We rested for awhile, took some pictures, and then rode the two hours back.

During our return trip through the valley, something spooked Miho's horse. I was riding right behind her when it started rearing like a wild thing, Miho clutching the saddle and flopping like a rag doll. My horse tried to follow suit, and I hauled back on the reins, thinking in a panic, "Oh my god, she's gonna fall! Oh crap, so am I!" Moments later, Miho was on the ground, but miraculously uninjured. I had managed to get control of my own mount, thank goodness, so it was just a matter of calming her horse. Miho was understandably wary, though, and since we were almost back to the gers, she elected to walk the rest of the way.

Chanaa made us khushuur for lunch (flat meat pastries), and I bribed the small children with candy and wet wipes. They were really into the wet wipes, for some reason...they watched the way I was cleaning off my face, and then mimicked me like little duchesses.

At last, it was onto the horses once again, to ride back across the plains to meet Ankha. By the time we were halfway back, my thighs were in pretty serious pain, so to distract ourselves Fig and I had a long conversation about Batman and other 90s cartoon shows. Then, Yuichiro had a spill of his own. It was quite odd actually. His horse wasn't going very fast, but when it stopped suddenly, Yuichiro just rolled over its shoulder in slow-motion, landing in a somersault that put him back on his feet in one smooth move, the way you only ever see on TV.

Finally we were back at the second homestead, Ankha running out to meet us and effectively stealing Chanaa's horse. We dropped off our mounts at the gers, had a cup of tea, and went off again to explore a nearby waterfall. Except, there had been no rain, so there wasn't actually any water. As Miho pointed out, it was less a waterfall, and more "just a fall."

So, we're all super tired and achy from the horseback riding - altogether, we had ridden for twelve out of the last thirty hours. But Ankha assured us that the just-a-fall was nearby, and we were willing to stretch our legs a little. What Ankha did not (and probably could not) tell us was that to get to the waterfall, we would have to scale down a practically vertical cliff. I think we must have looked pretty stunned with disbelief, because Ankha grinned and yelled, "Spiderman!" before bouncing down like a freaking mountain goat.

Eventually, we all made it down to the riverbed in one piece, but after about fifteen minutes, we just had to scale up it again.

We walked back (through a herd of yaks and a gang of herd dogs that I had to keep intercepting to protect dog-phobic Yuichiro), and had buuz for dinner (mutton dumplings). While getting ready for bed, we encountered bathroom adventure #4. As it turned out, while there was at least an actual outhouse this time, it was several hundred meters away through the yak herd. Fig went to find it in the dark, and just after she left, Chanaa came to tell us, "If you need toilet, please use near the ger. There are wild dogs." Whoops.

So, at least fifteen minutes later, Fig came back, looking frazzled, and having apparently crossed through some kind of dimensional rift in her attempt to find the outhouse. Lost amongst the yaks, she found a completely different set of buildings, and never encountered the outhouse at all, though it stood alone in the middle of a field and should have been easy to find. But at least she didn't meet the wild dogs!

Mongolia -- Day 4 (the grasslands)

We got up early to pack up our stuff, load into the van, and bid farewell to the desert. As was his wont, Ankha kept us all pretty entertained with his constant (and quite operatic) singing, pronouncing at intervals, "Mongolian pop star!" A few hours of bumpy off-roading took us out of the scrub and into some very pretty grasslands. They were these broad, open valleys surrounded by mountains, and occasionally cut by cool blue rivers still laden with ice. It looked like we had just driven into Lord of the Rings, or something.

Around lunchtime, we arrived at another homestead, where we ate some pseudo-spaghetti and outfitted ourselves for the next leg of the journey...on horseback. As it turned out, despite worrying about it when I was packing, I was the only one wearing acceptable shoes. So everyone else borrowed some pretty funny Mongolian boots (Miho's were HUGE on her), handed over one little overnight bag for the packhorse, and saddled up.

Chanaa had gone to great lengths to warn us that Mongolian horses are more dangerous than western horses (despite looking kind of smaller). Fig has a lot of riding experience, but mine basically distills to a week at a ranch in Arizona last year, Yuichiro's to one time in Peru, and it was Miho's very first time. We all found it funny that in Mongolia, instead of kicking your horse into a trot or gallop, you instead say, "Chuu, chuu!" (Mostly funny because we all knew that it was Japanese for "Kiss, kiss!")

Ankha stayed behind at the gers, temporarily replaced by our horse guide, a smiley middle-aged guy named Mogi. He was uber cheerful, and sang a lot. (A distinct trend of every tour guide we had in Mongolia, barring Chanaa.) We rode for four hours across the pretty valleys, and through the rivers (one of which Fig's horse almost fell into), passing sheep and yaks all over the place. As we approached our destination (yet another set of gers), Mogi's horse had a brief showdown with a big shaggy black yak, who (I kid you not) actually pranced back and forth like he was saying, "Hey, hey, whatchu doin'? Whatchu doin' here? Hey! Hey!" I wish I had it on tape.

Finally we got to that night's lodging, a cluster of gers populated mostly by small children and goats. The childrens' two favorite games seemed to be, grab-the-baby-goat-and-run-away-thus-freak-out-the-mama-goat, and try-to-ride-the-already-very-unhappy-mama-goat. Yuichiro, who was usually kind of weird and vaguely prissy, decided that these were the best games ever. He joined the two little girls in totally terrorizing the goats, and had this ridiculously big grin when he finally managed to catch one baby of his own. Baby goats are, by the way, called "ishik."

When it was time for dinner, we were realized there was no electricity, so the rest of the evening was mostly spent in conversation by candlelight.

Mongolia -- Day 3 (the Gobi desert, sort of)

The beginning of our grand countryside tour. We were up bright and early to meet our tour group and head out of the city. The tour was six people in total: besides Fig and I, there was a Japanese girl named Miho (from Chiba, near Tokyo), a Japanese guy named Yuichiro (from Saitama, coincidentally also near Tokyo), the tour guide, and the driver.

The tour guide was a really nice woman in her mid- to late-twenties (28?), named Chanaa. Her English was kind of funny, but good enough to do the trick. The driver was a 23 year old crazy man named Ankha, whose English was virtually nonexistent (apart from "Why? Why? Why? Why?") and who provided 90% of all entertainment during our trip. On our way out of UB, he stopped and bought a tape from a freestanding cassette stand (cassettes? REALLY?). It was by a really famous Mongolian singer named Javhlan, who was featured on the front, for some reason in a kayak. Little did we know that this cassette would become so integral in our lives.

Driving through the Mongolian countryside was interesting, but also very soporific to all us passengers who had gotten up early. After some general self-intro (in which we discovered that 22 year old Yuichiro had somehow already been to 57 countries) we all sort of napped. Part way through the morning we stopped for a bathroom break -- the first of a devolving set of weird countryside bathroom adventures.

The place we stopped was a community of perhaps 300 people, and we stopped to use a set of old wooden outhouses by the road. They were next to a tiled building, outside of which we were surprised to discover three girls wearing french maid uniforms, complete with stilettos. Why on earth were they dressed like that, in Nowheresville, Mongolia? And as we watched, more and more of them kept appearing, walking around the building's packed dirt courtyard. What could it mean?!

Back in the van, I asked Chanaa.

Me: Why are they dressed like that?
Chanaa: It's uniform.
Me: A uniform for what?
Chanaa: Uniform!
Me: Like a school uniform?
Chanaa: Yes, school uniform!

WHAT. We all boggled at that for awhile, then napped some more until lunch. Yuichiro slept in the weirdest and most uncomfortable looking positions, with his head wedged between the seats or, a few times, conked out on my shoulder. We of course took some clandestine photos to mark the event.

Whatever lunch was, it was awesome. We had hot tea and some kind of noodles with mutton (Mongolia's meat of choice) at this totally abandoned restaurant. There was a TV in one corner playing music videos, which Ankha settled down to watch. Pointing at the screen, he insisted, "Mama song! Mama song!" After a minute, we realized that it was the same as a song he had pointed out to us earlier in the van, off that very Javhlan cassette. (And so it begun...!)

In the late afternoon, our sleep was well and finally interrupted when we suddenly turned off the paved roads onto no road at all. The van flew along over the bumpy desert landscape, and upon seeing we were awake, Ankha cranked up some techno music and turned on a set of flashing blue lights that he'd strung around the inside of the ceiling. Laughing and dancing and half-falling out of our seats, we had a most improbable moving techno rave through the Gobi desert. (Video to follow!)

At one point we stopped for about twenty minutes to explore some sand dunes. Thanks to the wind, our clothes and skin were immediately covered in grit. Ankha started chasing us around, pretending to shoot us with a stick-cum-machine gun, wrestling Fig (and losing), and carrying me to the edge of a little lake in an effort to throw me in. The whole time, he was grinning and growling and shouting, "Gobi monster!!!" (Which immediately became one of our tour catch phrases. When in doubt, "Gobi monster!")

At last we reached our berth for the night. Tucked in the lee of a mountainous outcropping stood a herd of goats and sheep, and three canvas gers (a.k.a. yurts). One was set aside for us to use, with a wooden floor and several cots. As it turned out, there was another tour group staying in the second ger, almost entirely consisting of Japanese people! At least eight of them. We were seeing more Japanese people in Mongolia than actual Mongolians! Anyway, one of them had a Japanese <---> Mongolian phrasebook, which we used to learn our very first (and most often used) Mongolian word: liar. So when Ankha came back from rustling goats (no kidding) we gleefully declared him to be a "hotarch!"

The bathroom situation continued in its steady devolution. Instead of an outhouse, this homestead had a pit cordoned off by two blue tarps. But the tarps were only waist-high, and formed only two sides of a small triangle, leaving the back of the latrine open. Now, this wouldn't be a huge concern had they positioned the tarps against the outcropping. But for some reason, they had positioned it sideways, leaving your backside open to the plains. We had to go in groups to use it, so that at least one person could keep an eye out for any approaching goat herders about to get a surprise eyeful.

After we threw our stuff inside the ger and got a quick look around, it was time for a camel ride! We went in pairs, me and Fig first. The camel guide was a wizened little Mongolian man who had to be at least 65, and spent most of the hourish-long ride singing Mongolian folk songs. The countryside was breathtaking, all wide desert and craggy mountains and grassy plains. We found out that "batok" is evidently the word for baby camel, as we were being followed by an adorably gangly baby camel that tried to eat Fig's boot. The singing guide kept pointing at it and happily exclaiming "Batok baby!"

Chanaa made us all the Mongolian version of chicken noodle soup for dinner, taught us a complicated card game called Camel that involved giving each other piggy-back rides, and then Ankha renamed everyone. Apparently, Miho resembled a Mongolian friend of his, so he decided just to call her by the same name. Then, he gave the rest of us Mongolian names for good measure.

Miho = I forgot, actually...something like Zolha (a common girls' name)
Yuichiro = Boma (a common boys' name)
Fig = Ulanaa (meaning "red girl," because her cheeks were flushed)
me = Tsetsgee (which is a kind of flower. Pretty good deal for me!)

Then we played around outside for a while. There was a totally cute and incorrigible dog named Sara that kept chasing us around, we took photos of the moon, and Ankha was full of mock threats about the Gobi monster. That light in the distance? Gobi monster! After we go to sleep? Gobi monster! Sara? Definitely Gobi monster!

It's a wonder any of us could sleep with that dire threat hanging over our heads.