Feeling a bit wocky My entery for NYU's "law school sucks" poetry contest:

Examwocky

‘Twas finals and the library drones
Did groan and grumble in the stacks:
While laden were the sunny groves,
With lounging undergrads.

“Beware the exam clock, my son
The seconds fly, the minutes whiz!
Beware the mental block, and shun
The dreaded issue missed!”

He took his highlighter in hand
Long time an outline there he sought
Till at last his head fell to his hands,
Despairing of a thought.

As vines grew rampant in his mind,
The Exam Day with tongues of flame,
Came streaming through the window blind,
And chortled as it came!

Point one, Point two, he muddled through
The weary keys went clicker-clunk!
Till time was read, and quelling dread
He went out to get drunk.

“And hast though slain the Dread Exam?
Come raise a glass, let’s celebrate!”
“O let me be, oh woe is me!
I left out sub-part eight.”

‘Twas finals and the library drones
Did groan and grumble in the stacks:
While laden were the sunny groves,
With lounging undergrads.

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

Update: I won the contest :) What am I doing in law school when poetry's where the big money is?  ¶ 8:23 PM 0 Comments

  pics Some pics from Japan:















If you want more (and why wouldn't you?!), here are links to my favorite photos to date mixed in with some funny / random shots as well.

Best of Japan

Best of Travel Photos

The quality's not great on these images because I made the album on KodakGallery and they cut down the sizes on all of them :(  ¶ 10:06 PM 0 Comments

  Come to Osaka, fools!: Osaka 5 (Summer 2005) A letter I wrote to a friend trying to convince him to move to Osaka:

I don't know mate, that's a tough one! Hong Kong
would be a whole new adventure, a new language to
learn (or not learn) a new set of rules, etc. It
sounds like an exciting prospect. I try hard to fight the idea that what's best for me
is also best for other people. But I'm still going to
try to convince you to come to Osaka!

Osaka has is all: the party, the energy, the edge, the
tension of cultures meeting and clashing and sometimes
melding, the sense of something new being created and
destroyed every night. It has the youth and all that
it implies: all those cutely earnest youngsters in
their best hip hop gear, along with the truly talented
artists, rappers, singers, djs, break dancers, etc.
and it has a solid representation by the older
generation: some of the warmest most outspoken, fun
loving, quirky people in Japan, who all adore Osaka
and all its flaws, who will come up to you on the
street and hand you an orange, some soybeans and a
snack pack of seaweed, and who will aways always
ALWAYS try to talk to you in a bar or restaurant;
thick Osaka-Ben flying like mad, careening perilously
past broken teeth.

Osaka has this cool funky underground feeling, like
there are all these amazing things going on right
under your nose, on the 8th floors of office
buildings, in converted warehouses down by the port,
in makeshift studios under the train tracks, behind
unassuming interiors lurk hidden treasures. And no
I'm NOT talking about "snack bars"! [note: "Snack Bar" is
the Japanese euphamism for a hostess club] I'm talking about
the Taiko center where I take lessons every wednesday
night that's a hub for young and old japanese people
(some are in their 70's) to get together and beat on
big drums, and then maybe go out for beers at this
cool place that's literally carved out of the concrete
of the underpass. You'd walk right by it and not even
know its there. But there are jungle trees inside,
and a cat, and for some reason a life size model of
Elvis. I'm talking about going on a whim to hear one
of my private students play in a band, at a bar I've
cycled by a hundred times and never entered, and
finding six old Japanese guys jamming on electric
guitars to a packed house, followed by a Japanese
African drum and dance troupe (those ladies can shake
it, fake afros and all!) Then going straight to
another bar to hear my friend's funk band and watch an
amazing young Japanese woman, still a high school
student, sing like Gloria Gaynor. [This all
just happened to me this Saturday night. The week
before that I took a secret elevator hidden behind a
red velvet curtain at a club, and the door opened onto
the changing area of the transvestite dancers who,
instead of being angry, they let us help them put on
their makeup. I can't even imagine what next weekend
will bring.] I'm talking about the random pottery
studio set up in the middle of a small farm (which is
of course surrounded by stores, fish flake factories,
family style diners, mechanic shops, etc, etc, on the
outskirts of Osaka) where I just went for the first
time this week to learn Japanese style pottery. I'm
talking about so much energy and creativity it's
amazing the city can contain it all.
And apart from the musicians, the artists, the
dissatisfied youth, the fashionsitas, the
counterculture, theres also a tremendous ammount of
creative spirit in the merchants, the shopkeepers, who
are really the heart and sould of the city. I mean
the tako yaki stand lady who always gives an extra
ball, the old man who wanders around with his cart
singing about the quality of his warabi mochi , the
guy trying to entice me into his eel shop with almost
a jazz riff on Irasshyamasen (sah sah sah, irasshyi!
IRA-ra-ra-shyai! SHYAI!), the old laides, bent over
90 degrees from a life of planting rice, still going
about their business, chatting and cackling away to
one another as they push their little carts ever so
slowly through the grocery store aisles.

Whoa, I feel a bit drained. I want to write more, but
I'm afraid if I do I'll never stop.

I hope this helps, or at least helps to complicate
your decison a bit more!
Good luck to you! I envy you your possibilities. And
I truly envy you the possibilitiy of spending next
year in my Osaka.  ¶ 9:55 PM 0 Comments

  "In my country we call that child abuse", senior citizens with sticks, and I eat my words (deliciously) on Japanese curry: Osaka 4 (Spring 2005) This is a letter I wrote to my sister near the end of my time in Japan. It's kind of boring, but it talks about my job, for those interested in what it's like teaching in a Japanese elementary school.

Well, let me tell you about my day, if you want a rough idea of what my life is like here. Today I woke up on my futon on the floor, turned on my portable heater, made myself a fruit salad and checked the weather online, then biked about 30 minutes to my elementary school which is in the center of town surrounded by pachinko parlors and love hotels. I love the kids there, I have been with them since the very beginning and they are so freaking cute... they all swarmed me and tried to warm their cold little hands in mine this morning (Japanese kids for some strange reason are not allowed to wear coats, hats, mittens, scarves to school. Oh and they wear tiny little shorts (boys) or skirts (girls). Poor little bastards! Anyway I taught them "Who are you? I am Kyoko. Who is he? He is Yuusuke. Who am I? You are Sarah". For their age level, all that grammar is a LOT to master. These kids are 3rd grade to 6th grade, but I've been working with them once a week for almost 2 years now and they have learned so much! They are way better than my junior high school students. We played "old maid" or babanuki in Japanese, each kid got a playing card and had to approach other students and ask one of those three questions. Then they switched cards. There were 2 old maid cards. Believe it or not, they totally loved it, and I walked around the room and listened to 40 Japanese kids enthusiastically speaking English. Felt like a fairy tale. I wish every day could be Wednesday! I taught two classes in the morning. At lunch I didn't eat school lunch with the teachers at elementary like I usually do (was a bit bummed because it was yummy japanese curry). [Note: in an earlier post I disparage Japanese curry. How young and foolish I was. Japanese curry is the best. My favorite shop, if only for the name, is a chain called "T&A Curry House." Oh Japan and your frequent inadvertent sexual innuendos. If only you knew the joy you bring to my life.] The Junior High I go to on Wednesday afternoons was having exams and some of the teachers invited me out to lunch. It was two teachers that I teach with, and two other randoms who came even though they don't speak any engish. Don't know why, maybe they wanted to see me eat? I also got to talk with a girl at the school who just got accepted to an English intensive high school with the chance to go to the US for college. I was really proud of her, I hope she succeeds. Tried to give her some tips on how to practice English without paying for it and without getting an American boyfriend! Suggested tapes, comic books, TV and movies, etc. After school biking home I visited this wicked used Kimono shop that I found last week. I was just there to make a map for my friends so they could find it too, but I looked inside and found another gorgeous one, for only $7! Its 100% silk, so beautiful. They sell the sashes too (obi) but I didn't find the perfect one, I'm going to keep looking. Now I have four, which is a bit excessive, but I am hoping to give some as gifts. Though definitely keeping this one for myself, I'm so in love with it. There is an international house that hosts a Kimono event every so often where old ladies from the community come in and bring their Kimonos and dress interested foreigners in them. So I'll bring it to that and have them dress me in it. Then I did some more errands (went to the post office and the camera shop) went home briefly, and biked to Starbucks (well one of the many) to meet my friend Peyton for dinner. We take a Taiko drumming class together Weds nights. Taiko is traditional japanese drumming, you use these huge drums and beat them in unison, it sounds and looks really cool. It's definitly the most bad-ass of the traditional Japanese arts. Far from the tea ceremony or calligraphy! The lesson is so much fun it's me and Peyton and all these old grannies who are just taking Taiko for the first time too. Japanese old people are so active I can't imagine that many senior citizens in America taking up drumming at the age of 70!. Some of them are not the most rhythmically gifted people in the universe however... :) After Taiko I left my bike because I have to go back to that area tomorrow anyway to teach some private lessons (one in Spanish, to this bohemian musician type who loves latin music and wants to move to Cuba, that's really fun, and one to a kind of scary right-wing nationalist type guy who I am thinking about dropping as a student, but who's been a real education for me in that part of Japanese society.) Tomorrow the school I go to on Thursdays has tests, so I don't have to go in. So I'll sleep in, and probably read in bed, and i don't know what else. It'll be a lazy day. maybe I'll go out for lunch, go to park and watch the teenage bands who always set up there, or just bike around trying to spot the dog dressed in the weirdest outfit. depends on the weather... and hopefully Ken and I will get something accomplished in planning our trip to Vietnam. So there you have it, a day in the life. :P  ¶ 9:49 PM 0 Comments

  India Diary (Spring 2004)

India. First day. Not quite sure what to write, but I have a lot to think about. India so far isn’t what I expected it to be. I’m living in a L’arche community called Asha Niketan. [Note: L'Arche has established homes for mentally disabled people around the world. Asha Niketan, like all L'Arche communities is a pretty incredible place because there is absolutely no hierarchy. Non- disabled people live here as well, as volunteers, and help make sure everything goes smoothly and deal with logistics. But no member of the community is superior to any other, and all decisions are made by consnsus. Wow.] So no markets, no beggars, no cows, no piles of spices and swatches of bright fabric. No giant religious icons and no rivers. A two story house with tile floors and bright shutters. Morning and evening prayers. Dinner seated on mats, eating with our hands from large metal dishes. Worry over a teenager who ran away from the day care yesterday and hasn’t come home. Lots of time to think. Some things to ponder: a woman in the prayer meeting talking about her relationship with God (think she meant a Christian god, but not sure) said she’s been trying to “make it happen” by meditating, praying, disciplining herself, etc. When she has recently come to realize that the relationship has been gifted to her, it’s not something she can create on her own. I thought this can apply to other things besides religion, like relationships with other people and also experiences. Trying to make things the way we think they should prevents us from experiencing them as they really are. This is something that’s been on my mind a lot lately, especially since Thailand where I felt sickened by the very hedonistic approach to life of many of the backpackers we met, all trying to get as much as possible (mostly drugs, sex, alcohol, but also experiences, accumulating places as if they were souveniers, polishing the names like shiny gold trophies “kao pha nang” “Lao” “Angor Wat”. A very consumerist attitude as if “here I am Thailand, I’ve paid my entry fee, now show me what you’ve got!” The experience of a place and a culture and a people becomes one more product. I was doing it too. We had 20 some days to see and do and eat as much as possible. So we had to decide: do we stay here one more day… or move on to see what some other place has to offer? Where can we get the most enjoyment? How can we get the best return on our investment, the largest piece of the ‘Thai experience’?” Anyway hearing what Katherine said at the meeting made me see that I’d been trying to artificially create a relationship with Thailand, trying to make it conform to my expectations of what it ought to be. I don’t want to do that with India. First of all I need to discard the illusion that I can experience India at all. A huge country with billions of people, hundreds of different cultures, and in two weeks at that! I need to decide – do I want to read the first paragraph or do I want the cliff notes?

Monday 3/22 I had a wonderful day today. Morning went to work at the daycare. It serves a large group of mentally handicapped kids from the surrounding community. Kate prepared me beforehand for some of the things she finds objectionable: rigid structure, lack of warmth from some of the caretakers. Unwilling ness to change or try new activities, even some raise hands and threaten to strike the children. But I found all in all a very nice and welcoming environment. Also they deal with a lot of kids who need a lot of attention. I still did observe the things she spoke of though. I was really glad Elanor was there. She is a community leader in Bangladesh, an older Irish woman, very no-nonsense type who’s been with L’arche for years and years. So she was able to say the things Kates been trying to say for a while, and people had to listen. Like at story hour “lets move these (wheelchair, or in this case just chair bound) kids into the circle so that Everyone’s included”. Said in a cheerful voice, but no mistake, it was an order. Also she encouraged the kids to act like the animals in the story, applauded them enthusiastically, and put a lot of energy into making Kate’s parachute idea a success while some other workers stood around and probably hoped it would fail (less work for them). Elanor was laughing and shouting and directing the kids to shake the parachute, and even got under it with us all when it became a tent. After daycare I took off to wander the streets of Northern Calcutta (the oldest part of town). Started at a Jain temple then walked my away down to a jam-packed street with lots of vendors, metalworks, trams, cars, carts, sweet shops, etc. Just wandered about down many narrow streets, thru markets, by the crumbling remains of statuesque colonial buildings. Waved to by teens, shouted to by children “hello hello!” (reminded me so much of Japan!) generally smiled at by women, sometimes scowled at by ancient wrinkled men. I was reluctant to take out my camera because every time I did I drew a crowd. But I did manage to get some great shots of Calcutta street life. I love how life is lived on the streets in this city. Everyone’s just hanging out, sleeping even, chatting, sitting surrounded by piles of vegetables, drinking tea from little clay cups, pissing, watching the world go by. And I was the afternoon’s entertainment for a few! I felt very capable after choosing a spot basically at random (how to choose one among so many options—maximize maximize maximize!), committing to it, getting myself there, then easily figuring which way to walk to get to my next destination (setting sun, shadows showing west) walking there, taking a long time but enjoying the journey. I didn’t see a single other foreigner after leaving the Jain temple, and I was walking through what I felt like was a little slice of daily life. Every small street I went down people looked up and me in sort of surprise, as if I had parted a curtain and caught them at something. I’m loving the feeling I’m getting that this is a city where people live, where they go about their daily, real, regular lives. Don’t know why this surprises me so much, but somehow it does! Last night I went on an outing to the park with Kate and Muneshwar where I got the same feeling of life, it reminded me of summer evenings at City Park in Iowa. Families with kids, couples strolling, teenagers on dates, etc. Muneshwar was all dressed up – pressed collared shirt, trousers, black shiny shoes. I had a great time.

3/23 Today was much rougher for me at daycare. The same worn out puzzles as yesterday (and I suspect the last few years) that the kids were forced to sit on mats and do first thing. No wonder Rita looks so bored and despondent. Tried really hard to engage her today. Of all the kids who are mobile and conscious, she seems the saddest. She’s autistic, very difficult to communicate with, but seems very much to want attention and to want to please. She always helps with dishes. She’s a very good child, but also very frustrating. Today she kept taking out her braid and hanging me the elastic with a grunt. She wanted me to braid her hair again and again. I would have been happy to do it, but looking closely at her hair I found it was absolutely crawling with life (lice!). Fear and disgust won out of compassion for a while and I found myself snapping “neigh neigh (no! No!) at a mentally impaired twelve year old child who just wanted to be touched and loved. I felt sick with myself, and also felt incompetent and impotent for not being able to handle her. I sort of made up for it later by swallowing my fear and picking her up and tearing around the yard with her squealing and laughing in my arms. That was great. But any time I paid attention to any other child she would retreat back into her shell or lash out at the other kids. I was pushing her on the swing, feeling good because I was making her laugh. I felt so good about myself I didn’t notice Bappi was standing right in front of me grabbing his crotch, desperate to go to the bathroom, and he’d been trying his best to communicate it to me for probably at least 15 minutes. By the time I caught on and got a male assistant to take him, it was too late. He bit me later, and I fully deserved it. So my fantasy of making a difference got a bucketful of cold water dumped on it. What can I expect when I show up for one week, play some games, tickle some kids, and thing I’m going to transform lives? Also frustrating: Akash shat himself and Kate got sprayed with water from the toilet brush all over her face when she took Rhea to the bathroom. I felt bad, but was secretly thanking every single one of my lucky stars that it wasn’t me! I was so glad to see the kids off at the end of daycare - and it was only three hours- and sit down to lunch (after an extremely thorough scrubbing of my hands. I am unsure whether the permanent daycare staff (all Indian) are failing the kids in some way or whether they are absolute saints for doing what they do day in and day out. After daycare the day got better. I had a good talk with Kate about how were were feeling, and talk a walk around the Mother Theresa compound (“home for the non-criminal insane” and all .) Also saw the workshop and hung out with the guys there and bought sweets on the way home with Beppi, and did yoga with Elanor before dinner. Then picked up Natalie at the airport in the evening.

3/24 Fantastic day! Did so much and saw so much without ever being stressed or feeling pressure to get it all in. Everything just sort of fell into place. Kate took a day off and she, Nat and I left after breakfast. We bought our train tix for the rest of the trip and got some money exchanged at the bang (the most inefficient, antiquidated, time consuming … grumble grumble). Then went to the Indian muyseum where we saw really cool old Buddhist statues and carvings jand semi disturbing semi comforting natural history exhibits. Then to New Market for some shopping and ate Dosa for the frist time for lunch. Then went to FabIndia, a cool free trade clothing shop where I got two Indian Kurtas (sort of ashirt/dress) so I don’t have to keep wearing Kate’s for the what is it now, sixth day? Then to Kali Temple, which was wicked! I can’t really describe it. Kali is the goddess of chaos and destruction, which sort of gives some idea of the experience. Had to go one at a time so someone could watch the shoes. waiting in a long line pushing and shoving, shoes off, wet slimy floor, herded up to the flower / incense / sweet sellers, supposed to buy some sort of offering? Then the crowd pushes us up to the statue of the god itself, which is in this sort of sunken room, I am stopped at the threshold, but with an offering am allowed to sort of lean over and look in. Make to get out the camera… NO! ok ok, sorry sorry… backing out… but trying to take in everything: the small crowded room, the chain of people snaking around the base of the statue of the god moving rhythmically to some unknown beat, the god itself: no face, no body, just a pair of slanted black eyes on a red background, the shuffling feet, the music and incense in the air, the feeling of being thisclose to the pulsing heart of something . … Then its out again into the late afternoon sunshine, a smear of orange dye on my forehead to meet Natalie and Kate fending off beggars and guarding my shoes. After the temple, we hopped on a bicycle rickshaw and went to the West Bengali film center where, by total dumb luck, we managed to see an outdoor performance of Indian classical music, and get tickets to a Bengali film “Alao- a ray of hope”. We met the mother of one of the lead actresses on the way out of the cinema. Bengali people seem very proud of their distinctive culture and language. Everyone we met at the cinema wanted to talk to us about this topic, the cultural heritage of their region, and their long tradition of art, poetry, and nowadays good cinema (contrasted with Bollywood). They all seemed really happy to see foreigners taking an interest in Bengali film. Then we went to Park Plaza Hotel for a drink, Kate’s first luxury in months, and to watch the end of the India Pakistan cricket match. The hotel bar was very swank, Kate seemed very disoriented having been living at Asha Niketan for so long and not having been to any place remotely like this since coming to India. We felt a little disoriented too – so much genteel wealth and privilege after so much squalor and chaos and vitality. There was restrained applause when the match finished with an Indian victory, while outside the streets were going mad with flags, drums, car horns, impromptu parades, and makeshift floats (20 people in and on top of and barely hanging onto one small car, trailing banners and runners behind). Also child beggars out in full force. Sharp contrast to the small children we met in the bar who said to us in almost perfect English “My mother’s doing a dolphin research project. She’s on TV on the discovery channel”. The same childlike eagerness to engage, extremely different circumstances. We got home through all the madness with the help of a taxi (windows rolled up) and hung out a bit with Sujit and Senjuay and Muneshwar on the second floor landing overlooking the celebration on the street through the window, wincing a bit at firecrackers, and having fun taking silly pictures with my camera. I feel like it was a charmed day. 3/25 Today was much better at daycare, though unfortunately not many kids were there. I spent a lot of time with Charlie, a boy with Cerebral Palsey who is confined to a chair and has very stiff arms and legs. I sang along to nursery rhymes, moved his hands and feet a bit. He tried really hard, lifterd his head multiple times, I applauded, think he was pleased because he was making clucking sounds with his tongue. We were definitely interacting. He apparently understands English and can say a few words thought speaking is difficult. Also a man from the community who’s an artist came and did coloring and painting with the kids. They absolutely loved it! It was such a difference from the puzzles (or coloring in a bunch of squares with us supposedly policing them to make sure they stay within the lines – what they hell!?) After daycare Nat and I had to run some errands, got money, bought a shawl to cover my arms and head, and got photos burned to CD. We got home by 5:30 to join the artist and the core members doing sculpture. Sculpture class was also so cool. Of course I was just dying to get my hands on the clay, but it was surpisingly difficult to keep it at the right consistency. I made a head and a foot. Next to me Muneshwar was in deep concentration making a gorgeous abstract piece that far surpassed all the other clumsy bears, bulls, snakes, pots, etc., mine definitely included. He’s really an amazing artist, and he also paints, mostly faces, and goes to art school (though he complains he should get paid like the members who go to the workshop!) After the art lesson it was time for Rajej’s birthday celebration. I don’t think I can do it justice here. But it was the most amazing thing to see a little boy all dressed in white like a prince, supposed to be seated in a sort of throne made from a chair draped with colorful cloth and surrounded by plants. But he’s so excited he keeps getting up and jumping up and down, commanding the center of the floor! Soon he has everyone dancing. Crazy jerky kinetic motion (Kate and me), older female assistants swiveling their hips and twirling their hands, some core members performing surprisingly skilled Indian dance moves worthy of a Bollywood music video. Everyone gave something to Rajesh, whether a dance, a speech, a song, or even just a handshake and a pat on the back. I don’t think I have ever been in a room so filled with love. Sincere love, friendship compassion, and people simply desiring to make an honest connection with one another. My mouth ached from uncontrollable grinning, and my eyes struggled to hold back tears. To be honest, up to that point I had not fully believed in the inherent dignity and worth of every individual, regardless of mental or physical capabilities. But as I watched the Asha Niketan community celebrate the life of a young man it seemed so crystal clear. Since then that clarity has slipped away a little, especially when I’m walking down the street pestered by dirty boys calling “hello hello madam yes please where are you going now?” But I hope I will be able to bring it back by holding onto the memory of the birthday party. After the party, we were invited to dinner with the missionaries of charity brothers, brother organization to Mother Theresa’s group. It was excellent food (chicken! Oranges!) and interesting to talk with the brothers. I can’t imagine being a nun or (what’s the male equivalent? Monk?) To put you life entirely in someone else’s hands, to be shipped off anywhere in the world and be expected to dedicate yourself to serving others. All that in addition to having to really really believe in an organized religion… Talked to a brother who’d been in Guatemala, he really wanted to go back, he spent years there, learned Spanish, learned the culture, and now he found himself sort of stranded in India, forced to start all over again. After dinner things got a little bit carried away with my digital camera. It’s a bit of a liability because the core members all want to play with it. I don’t mind, but then it starts to be all about the camera, and all about me because I can control it in and decide who to give it to. Me and the camera are the center of attention, and that’s not what I’m here for. Also it’s obvious to the assistants, if not to the core members, that it’s a very expensive camera (though it’s the cheapest model in Japan), which they keep commenting on. I think the head of Asha Niketan was upset with me for letting things get out of hand since Rham Babu has a history of becoming violent when something he wants is taken away from him. I feel really bad because that’s the last thing I wanted. I wish I had handled the situation better.

3/26 Last day in Calcutta. Daycare today was lots of kids! I felt very sad to be leaving because I’ve really grown attached to them this past week. I think I’ve made connections with a few, though they’ve probably meant a lot more to me than I did to them. Rita hugged me a bunch of times today. Also Tanvir and I had a lot of fun. I made sure he got to participate in the parachute. Kate’s parachute idea went really well, everyone was laughing and having squealing with excitement. I had to hold Tanvir the whole time, sort of supporting his weight with my thighs and knees, so he was in a semi-upright position. Plus keep one hand on the parachute to keep the handle from being wrenched out of his hand or from hurting him if he was unable to let go because his hands are so rigid. I also sat with Chenook at lunch and helped him eat… after he peed all over himself and I had to pull his pants off and get him cleaned up. I was proud of myself b/c I didn’t actually have to do it, his mom was there, but I didn’t want to treat her like some people here seem to: “you’re responsible for creating this kid, you clean his messes!” Once I’d made up my mind it was actually easy, no problem, even when he wrapped his sticky piss and dirt covered legs around my waist. Just smiled and kept going. After daycare we went to the net café, and before we knew it it was time to leave. When I left the house, Bepppi at first turned his head away, but when Mantu scolded him he smiled, bowed, and kissed my hand! Kate walked us to the taxi stand we said goodbye. I was very sad, if not tearful. I can never seem to muster the right emotional pitch for those intense transitional moments. I should have been bawling, I may not see Kate again for years. But it never fully hits me at the time, and I always feel like I’m faking it just a little bit. I wonder if it’s just me or if other people feel this way too. We took the night train to Varanassi, and had not problems. It was quite comfortable, even the squat toilet was kind of fun, what with the car rocking back and forth and the tracks flashing by below the open hole!

3/27 Varanasy. Had a tough time finding the hostel Vishnu and wasted a lot of time in an autorickshaw that took us halfway to Sarnath instead of to the pier where we wanted to be. Oops! Then once we got almost to the pier we had to transfer to a bike rickshaw, but soon the narrow streets and bovine congestion became too much even for the bike and then had to walk/stagger dragging our bags up and down uneven ghat steps. Vishnu had a room but it was dark and windowless and right by the kitchen. So had breakfast (lemon pancake – yum!) and went to see the Sisters. They fixed us up with a boatride to the hotel Temple on Ganges which had a very nice room with a great view of the river. Then had a long and intense nap! Then we were off the see the temples. We did a grand tour of Hanuman, Durga and Tulsi Manas temples. The sun was just setting, and the air was hot and wet. Huge crowds, music, incense, shoving and shouts and confusing gestures, oh no where are my shoes, oh crap we’re in the men’s line again! Vendors were pushing flowers, sweets, and other offering, masses of people pressed forward, surged towards the alter and other specific holy spots where they exchanged offerings for a handful of water to drink and splash on their head, and a smear of orange colored paint/powder for their foreheads. I sampled a tiny bit of the water – stupid, could have come straight from the Ganges! After three temples, the last one with animatronic figures acting out scenes from the Vedas, we went to dinner at a Lets Go recommended restaurant and got Masala Dosa and Uppadam (Indian Okonomiyaki!). Both yum. Then had dessert at an expensive and highly sketchy bistro (“your beer is coming… just as soon as we smuggle it into town, check the security cameras, and sweep the room for bugs/undercover police) to kill time before the start of a bollywood flick called “Woh". The movie was crap of course, the ticket seller even said so, but that’s what we wanted. We were apprehensive at first that it wasn’t a REAL Bollywood, so were delighted when the lead actor randomly burst into song after about fifteen minutes. Jackpot! We only made it through half of the movie though because we were so so so tired. 3/28 Today at 5:45am we took a boatride on the Ganga. It was fantastic! I took a ton of pictures of beautiful ghats lit bp by the rising sun, solitary fishermen, meditatiors, crowded steps, bathers, washerwomen, kids swimming, old swamis with long beards, the burning ghat where cremations take place. And beautiful old crumbling palaces and homes lining the riverbank. Afterwards we saw the golden temple from the roof of a silk shop (we were turned away a the entrance because we weren’t Hindu) and had a huge and salty lunch at a crowded vegetarian restaurant. This wasn’t a Let’s Go recommends, this was a “This place looks like its popular with the locals”. Then we went to Sarnath - again. But this time on purpose – to seethe spot where Buddha delivered his first sermon. We even saw what was supposedly the very same tree he sat under when he received enlightenment (or at least a tree grown from a sapling taken from the original). We also saw cool ruins of early Buddhist monasteries and temples, pluss a current Jain temple marking the spot of the 11th reincarnation of their god. We also had a funny intercultural experience in a little shop we went into because it had Japanese writing outside. Inside we met an Indian man who’s married to a Japanese woman and runs a shop catering to Japanese tourists and their endless quest for Omiyage (souveniers to bring back as gifts for friends and co-workers. Very important part of Japanese manners). This man had great business savy and definitely understands the Japanese. The shop was spotless, had air conditioning, and possibly the nicest bathroom on the subcontinent. He was very kind to us, spoke to us in Japanese and English. He also offered Japanese or Indian tea. The shop sold lots of Buddha figurines and chains made of brown jade. We thought this guy is a genius – of course Japanese people will come to Sarnath (and Chinese and Koreans too) to see this famous Buddhist site, and they will want to buy Buddhist memorablilia. Also they will be very comforted by the shop and the shop owner who knows how to treat them, speaks their language, and uses a no pressure sales technique. For us too it was such a relief from slimy vendors “yes madam yes verygoodprice” we were tempted to buy out the whole store. Good think there was nothing there I actually wanted. We came back later so Nat could buy a painting and the place was full of a busload of Ojisan and Obasan (grandfathers and grandmothers) all carrying thick stacks of American currency. Meanwhile Nat had brought along a wad of Japanese Yen! After Sarnath (and the worst autorickshaw ride ever! We had a nap then a stroll along the ghat to see the ritual offering of lowers and incense to Ganga. Apparently we’ve come near the end of a 9 day cycle of festival, offering, and fasting. Then we had a really nice dinner at the Sisters house. I’ll have to describe them later, because if I get started I’ll never stop! Then we went to bad early because we found ourselves totally exhausted again.

3/29 Last day in Varanai. We were sort of killing time until the 5:20 train. We did Yoga in the morning on the rooftop terrace of our hotel. Beautiful sunrise again over the river, and fresh breeze blowing. One of the sisters came by with letters for Japan and we invited her to have breakfast with us at the rooftop restaurant. I had a nice museli with Curd and bananas – antidote to all the potatoes and white rice and salt! Yogurt also good for the stomach, though I haven’t really had any troubles. Then I got my photos burned to CD which was a huge hassle but a huge relief because I’d run out of room on my camera and had to delete an old picture every time a wanted to take a new one. Then we did a bit of email and some Omiyage buying for our teachers back in Osaka. When I checked my email I got tons of responses to (finally!) sending out my Thailand photos, which was really nice. Then we went to the museum at Benares (another way to write Varanasy) Hindu University but had no luck listening to Sitar music. Then we had lunch at a Western café called Bread of Life. Felt a little guilty, but the Tuna Burger was so good! Then we went to the train station and caught the overnight train for Agra.

3/30 Ok food now seems to have become a dominant theme in my diary! Asha Niketan’s fare was pretty unremarkable: low cost ingredients, potatoes at every meal, tons of rice, chapattis if we were lucky. Meat only once or twice a week. But it was a lot of fun to eat: big silver dishes passed around, sitting in a circle on the floor, eating with our hands. Though the hand eating took some getting used to , especially with the constant fear of contamination, the black dirt caked permanently under my fingernails, never feeling 100% clean no matter how many times I washed my hands with industrial dish soap. It was also pretty unappetizing to observe the rice-massaging, and finger slurping and scraping habits of my dinner companions. Anyway, since Asha Niketan eating has become much more of an adventure. Every meal is a potential case of food poisoning. But there are so many choices! So many unfamiliar names and intriguing combinations. Ordering food is like a little drama in three acts: the decision (often anguished), the waiting (regret, hope, fear), and the climax/denoument (does the food live up to expectations? Any after effects?) Last night on the train we had high hopes for the train dinner. There’s something about sitting down and having food brought to you that is very appealing, especially when I don’t have to make up my mind about what to order. No chance of getting the wrong thing. I guess I enjoy the feeling of being taken care of. Anyway if was a bit of a disappontment: way too much salt in the curries. I slept really well on the train, but we were late in getting into Agra by about 2 hours. We missed sunrise over the Taj, but got a great view of it from the roof of our hostel. There was more food drama at breakfast, but ended up scrapping with delicious banana crepes. Then set out for Agra Fort. It was very cool to just wander through ancient courtyards and along spectacularly carved balconies and ramparts. There was a great view of the river bed, a broad flat dry plain, and the Taj in the distance. I imagined being a soldier or king in ancient times looking out over this same vista and seeing advancing armies, or playing chess in cool evenings on the terrace reclining on silk cushions and watching harem girls dance to dense drumbeats. Then we went across the river to see the “Baby Taj” and to see the Taj itself from the back side. It was a great view and I got a good picture. But I still want to go in! After much debate, we decided to let our autorickshaw driver take us along for a scam. We agreed to look at one marble shop in exchange for delivery to baby taj, taj back view, and main market, all for 70 rupees, waiting included. The marble shop was kind of fun, everything was way out of our price range but we got to see how the make the inlaid jewelry boxes, tables, coaters, etc and also got to observe an interesting sales pitch. It was only about 10 minutes. But then the driver got tricky and tried to take us to another store, and we got testy and said no just the market please. Turns out when we got there that the market is closed on Tuesdays, just a bunch of closed up shops and stalls, which he conveniently forgot to mention beforehand. So we sort of got scammed anyway. Think he intended to use the closed market as leverage to get us to agrree to go with him to other stores. But after much impassioned shouting and hand waving we ended up getting him to take us to our chosen restaurant, Zorba the Buddha and had an excellent lunch including Banana Cinnamon Coffee and absolutely heavenly nan made with yogurt. Let’s Go steered us right again. Surprised to see our driver waiting for us when we left the restaurant, offering to take us to another destination. Thought he’s had enough of us and definitely thought he would have picked up that we’d had enough of him. Then we went back to the hotel after more fighting with Rickshaw wallahs – getting OLD!- and showered before heading off to the Taj. We wanted to look our best for India’s most famous attraction! The Taj was nothing short of fabulous. Everything they say about it is true, and then some. I was walking around the whole time with “I’m at the Taj Mahal...I’m at the Taj Mahal…I’m at the Taj Mahal...” running through my head! It was also surprisingly peaceful and serene.

The entry ends here because the my diary was stolen before I finished typing it up (no not in India, in freaking Japan!) I was riding my bike with my purse in the basket, and two kids pulled up next to me on a scooter and snatched it. I was livid - went chasing after them down the street screaming in Japanese... I'm sure it was a funny sight. They were too fast though, and got away. I lost my camera, a bit of money, my hanko (gasp!) and my diary. But at lesast they didn't take my vegetables. The story of my encounter with the police (who took the whole thing very seriously) will have to go mostly untold. But it involved my mugshot (full body: front, side, and back), description of my "mini skirt", photos of me at the scene of the crime and numerous versions of a statement that they kept trying to get me to sign even though parts of it were completely false and practically called for life in prison for those poor stupid kids (who did eventually get caught, but did I get my stuff back?...noooo!). I said I wouldn't sign it until they took out all the stuff about the poor foreigner whose impression of Japan was ruined, and how I implored the court that they be punished severely. I didn't want contribute to ruining their lives. They probably ended up screwed anyway, they'd been doing this to a lot of other people. One conviciton in Japan, even as a youth, is all it takes to ruin your future prospects. I never did find out what happened to them though.  ¶ 9:35 PM 0 Comments

  Showdown in North Korea, silkworms taste nothing like silk, bloody fangs and mickey ears: Osaka 3 (November 2003) I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written. A lot has happened, including a trip to Korea, a soccer tournament, and a crazy Halloween. Starting in order of occurrence:

KOREA
I went to Korea in mid-October with my friend Jan Marie, who’s a Kiwi (that’s a person from New Zealand, or ‘Noo-gee-ran-doh’ as it’s known to our students here). We decided to go very much on the spur-of-moment, we had a three-day weekend, which we extended to five days by taking some of our holiday. The flight was really cheap even though we bought our tickets so late because Korea is only two hours from Japan. We flew into Seoul, which was like a breath of fresh air after Osaka. There were mountains all around, and actual trees in the downtown area. Amazing. In Seoul we spent several days touring the city, visiting some beautiful palaces and also cool markets where they sell everything from spices and jade to fake gucci and leather jackets, alongside preserved snakes in giant jars of wine. I bought a real backpacker backpack for $30, which was filled to the brim by then end of the trip with all the other stuff I bought. At the hundreds of stalls that line the streets we sampled strange foods like compressed fish paste on a stick, candied sweet potatoes, and of course kimchee. Kimchee is like Korean ketchup, it’s everywhere and goes with everything. It’s really sour, salty and spicy, which as far as I could tell are the big three flavors of Korean cooking. By the end of the trip I was calling them the unholy trinity because my stomach had started to pickle from the inside out, but in moderation Korean food is excellent. As part of our culinary adventure, we tried to eat “one of everything” from all the vendors we passed, and this included silkworms, which are boiled in huge vats by the hundreds. I purchased a little paper Dixie cup full of them, and we ate them by spearing them on toothpicks and popping them between our teeth. They explode a little bit in your mouth and taste like kind of like dirt (sort of like gushers candy, only infinitely more disgusting.) To be honest we only got through half of the cup. But I’d still say that it was a good effort.

THE DMZ
But the coolest thing that I did in Korea by far was touring the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) on the border with North Korea. We had to go through a lot of effort to book the tour because there are only two tour agencies authorized to go into the DMZ. There were multiple, painfully-long-and-expensive international phone calls conducted in extremely broken English and Japanese. But it was completely worth it, because at the end we got to cross the border and actually be IN North Korea. (Technically.) (For about 5 minutes.) We crossed the border inside what must be the most heavily guarded empty room on the planet. The guard-posts of the two nations are about 100 yards apart, and the building is located right in the middle and shared by both sides. It’s the same room where they signed the armistice to end the war. Both North and South Korea can have visitors go into the building, but never at the same time. (Because North Korea is a closed society, its people are not allowed any contact with people from outside. There are actually many Korean families that have been split apart, and family members have not been allowed any contact with each other since the country was divided.) On both sides of the borderline, there were guards, all extremely well armed. The most impressive were the sentinels: on the South Korean side there are two at all times. They stand perfectly immobile facing the border line, with exactly half their body behind the side of the building (to provide less of a target) and their arms rigid with hands a few inches away from gun holsters, ready to draw and shoot at any instant. Their North Korean counterparts were similar, though their pose was not quite as dramatic. They have been staring each other down like that for almost 50 years. Inside the armistice room itself there was another guard who was standing like a statue in front of the door leading outside to North Korea. He was wearing black aviator sunglasses, a pith helmet, and big black shiny boots, and he didn’t move an inch or change his facial expression even a tic the whole time we were in there. The soldier was for our own protection they said. I guess some tourists just might be stupid enough to try to dart out the door and grab a handful of North Korean soil or something like that. This would not have been advisable, as these people are definitely NOT messing around: the next stop on the tour was the site of the infamous “tree-trimming incident.” This was the spot where there has once been a tree, located between the two countries and belonging to neither side. Some South Korean soldiers tried to trim it one day, which apparently angered the North Korean soldiers so much that they marched out and hacked the tree trimmers to death with their own axe. The next day the South Koreans put the entire nation’s military on high alert, informed the Americans, the French, etc., and then sent a huge, heavily armed force out into the DMZ to chop down the offending tree. You couldn’t make this stuff up if you tried. We finished up the tour with lunch in the mess hall that serves the U.S. military personnel who are stationed on the base. Aside from being obscenely excited by the Shakey’s buffet-style carb-fest (pizza! spaghetti! mashed potatoes! macaroni and cheese!) we also got to talk with several of the American soldiers. The most striking thing about them was their age: mostly they were between 18 and 22. We left the DMZ feeling slightly shaken, like we’d just come back from an alternate reality where the normal logic we take for granted in our daily lives didn’t apply. We were quite relieved to get back to Seoul’s city streets and forget that just a few miles away this life-or-death game was being played out by boys the same age as our little sisters.

All in all, Korea was fantastic, and I would highly recommend anyone who has the chance to go there. The food is great if you don’t overdo it and there are some amazingly beautiful places to see and great cultural things to do (I don’t have time or space to do justice to the show we saw which was sort of a Korean version of “Stomp” except funnier, and with kitchen utensils). The culture also was a lot of fun for us to experience because it could not have been more different from Japanese. People were much more straightforward and down-to-earth, and their fashion also seemed much more in line with what we are used to in the West. We saw very few women in torturously high-heeled hooker boots, and not even a single man was sporting an orange mullet-perm, the preferred fashion statement of the hip young Japanese male. I really could go on and on about Japanese ‘fashion’, but that will have to be a subject for another email!

ALT SOCCER TOURNEY
The soccer tournament I played in the weekend after Korea was also a lot of fun. The first one was organized by some JETs a few years back, and it’s grown so much there are teams of JETs from all over the country, including people who traveled fourteen hours to get there. We only had to travel seven hours, which was plenty. We actually chartered a bus to transport all of us girls. We had high hopes for this tourney: our boys team won the entire thing last year and this year as well, and we were hoping that our girls team would do the same. Osaka has the highest concentration of JETs in the country; there are 58 of us within the city limits alone, and another 140 living in Osaka prefecture, so it’s easier for us to make teams, and get together once a week to practice. Both our A-team and B-team ended up doing pretty well (I played on the B-team, as any of you who have seen me kick a ball could probably have guessed) but we were both knocked out by a team called the ‘Onnabelievables’. (Onna means woman in Japanese.) Our team name, by the way, is ‘Ohhhh-SAKA!’ which sort of sounds like “Oh….Soccer!” when said properly, though it’s still pretty stupid any way you pronounce it :P. Even though we didn’t win, the tourney was a great chance to get out of the city and see some more of Japan. The matches took place in this tiny little town in the middle of nowhere, and we stayed at a beautiful Japanese-style hotel, and played on gorgeous fields completely surrounded by mountains and trees in fall colors. It was also a great chance to meet other JETs from all over and compare experiences (and conclude that we are pretty darn lucky to be living where we are).

HALOWEEN: THE GAIJIN TAKE OVER THE INSTITUTION or EVIL DEAD MICKEY'S REVENGE
Even though I’m still not even into November, Halloween will have to be the last thing I’ll talk about because this email is already way too long. Halloween in Osaka was… well… let’s just say it may well have been the best and bizarrest Halloween ever! Expats here seem to go all-out on certain holidays, no matter how much we try to assimilate to Japanese life the rest of the year. Maybe it’s a way to assert our own culture and rebel against the restrictions placed on us here, even if only for one night. Then we can willingly return to our normal day-to-day Japanese existence (an example of “liminal time”, for all you cultural anthropologists out there). Whatever the reason, the Halloween celebration organized by Osaka’s expat community is all-out madness and anarchy, carried out against one of the most cherished symbols of Japanese organization and efficiency: the railway system! Osaka’s complex network of trains and subways is a very important part of life here, and most people spend up to several hours a day commuting to and from work (not me, I bike everywhere, but that’s another story). On the train there is a very strict code of conduct that as far as I know is not spelled out anywhere, but is nevertheless easily observable, violation of which will earn you furtive yet disapproving glances (a main technique of Japanese social control… surprisingly effective.). Rule number one is: do NOT eat on the train. But can’t I take just a little nibble of this candy ba…NO! Don’t do it! Don’t even think about it! Don’t even LOOK at the candy bar. And for god’s sake don’t eat anything requiring chopsticks…. Oh no, you didn’t… you didn’t try to eat ramen noodles on the… oh god, you did. Rule number two: don’t talk. Don’t talk to the friends you came in with, don’t talk to yourself, and whatever you do, don’t talk to the people sitting standing or wedged next to you. The reasoning behind this rule is actually pretty logical: Japanese social interactions are governed by a lot of rules about politeness and hierarchy. It would be way too difficult to have to try to apply these rules for every new group of people on every train car. Furthermore, Japanese trains are ridiculously crowded, and people would probably rather pretend that they are not in contact with ten other bodies, without being reminded of this fact by having to make conversation. Being on the train is kind of like taking a break from socialization. People mostly just go into auto-pilot: they stare straight ahead with blank expressions on their faces, or they sleep. For a Japanese person this must be a relief, but for a westerner it can be stressful. Because while no one will talk at you, or even look at you directly, you are still being observed. You are interrupting the normal flow of the train routine by your very presence (and you are probably unwittingly committing some horrible social faux pas on top of that). There is a lot of pressure to conform in this situation, but conformity is often impossible because of the very fact that foreigners are bound to stand out, no matter how well we try to behave. Anyway, maybe because this is one of the places where we are made most conscious of our foreignness, on Halloween night, Osaka’s gaijin community completely takes over the city’s most famous train, the JR loop line. This is a train line run by a private rail company that makes a complete circuit of the city every 45 minutes. On the big night we turned up at 8:30 to the Osaka Station JR platform. The platform was already completely packed with revelers dressed in all manner of outrageous costumes. There were the standard fairys, witches, mummies, princesses, etc, and also many Japanese-inspired outfits: ninjas, samurai, power rangers, geisha, and Japanese school-girls, along with some Western-themed costumes: santa claus and elves, beauty and the beast (a Japanese girl and her gaijin boyfriend…) plus some costumes that expressed social commentary, however tastelessly: the child-molesting priest was a big hit. I went as “evil dead Mickey Mouse”. I made the costume all by myself for about $5 with materials purchased at (where else?) the 100-yen store. I had the white gloves, the little red shorts (with big yellow buttons pinned on), black tights, ears cut out of cardboard and taped to a headband, and the crowning glory: giant yellow slippers I was lucky enough to come across the day before, after having almost given up in despair. I also cut fangs out of white plastic, circled my eyes in black powder, and liberally applied blood to my face, mouth, and teeth. I also found a plastic Mexican “day of the dead” skull rattle, to which I glued little mouse ears, and I carried a plastic retractable dagger in my other hand. There was actually some logic behind this costume, however strange it may seem. Mickey Mouse is seen as a symbol of America, but he is also completely Japanese. He is the epitome of “genki”: the Japanese term for all that is perky, spunky, cute, and wholesome. Therefore he has been embraced in Japan as much if not more than he was ever loved by America. So why not have a little fun perverting this cherished cultural icon beloved by children and middle-aged single women everywhere? Back to the station platform, where several hundred gaijin, plus quite a few Japanese, waited in anticipation of the arrival of the 9:00 train: there were quite a few harried police officers there as well, who had obviously been advised in advance of the situation, but who seemed to have given up on all but the most basic crowd and damage control. The platform was packed. Peace was not maintained. Orderly lines did not form. People drank freely from beer cans, whiskey flasks, and various other colorful mixtures in 2 liter coke bottles. With the arrival of the train, everyone pushed and shoved their way onto the cars, inside which the chaos only intensified. Flasks were passed, strangers kissed, people were lifted into and out of overhead luggage racks. At every station great masses poured out of the cars, the goal being to get oneself and one’s friends, out, around the platform, and (ideally) back in the train again before the doors closed. My friends and I (about 10 other JET’s as well as three Japanese girls who play on the soccer team) rode the rails for about an hour and a half before retiring to a club, and a very good time was had by all. I usually don’t enjoy being one of large group of people behaving very badly, but I would not have missed this event for the world. It was a truly unique cultural experience! I’m here in Japan mostly to learn about Japanese culture, but it’s really surprised me how much I’ve been able to learn about my own culture here as well. There are some things you that are brought into much higher relief in the context of a foreign society.  ¶ 9:32 PM 0 Comments

  Men with fans, the dollar shop of paradise, Colonel Sanders walks the plank: Osaka 2 (September 2003) My second letter from Japan, written about a month in.

"How is Sarah doing in Japan?", you ask. Well I'll tell you. I'm sitting in my apartment right now, waiting for a package from my parents to arrive. I am really excited to get this particular package because it contains several items that are difficult or impossible to get here (or get cheaply). My top two most desired items: peanut butter and floss. Do the Japanese not floss? If they do, they are perhaps buying it at a special secret floss store that I don't know about. The weather is finally getting a little cooler, which is a wonderful thing. This has been, without a doubt, the hottest and most humid summer of my entire life. And supposedly it's one of the coolest that Osaka has had in years. Apparently Japan is subject to extremes in temperature, something to do with the ocean currents. I think I mentioned this already, but all japanese people carry two things with them at all times: a towel and a fan. Even the men (especially the men!) can be seen fanning themselves vigorously on every corner and in every office building. This is accompanied by repeating "Atsui desu, nee?" (hot, isn't it?) at every opportunity. Well, at least this is one expression in Japanese I'm not likely to forget. But I guess I'm not one to talk since I go around with a water bottle practically attached to my left hand, and the Japanese expressions I use just about 95% of the time are "excuse me", "good morning", "I'm sorry", "good afternoon", "I'm very sorry" and "how much does this cost?"

I HAVE FOUND HEAVEN ON EARTH, AND IT'S A JAPANESE DOLLAR STORE
After much shopping, I finally have my apartment looking really nice. If I had to list my favorite things about Japan (which I'm not ready to do yet, but I'm sure I'll subject you to it at a later date) the "Hyaku-en" or "100 yen shops" would be near the top of the list. At these stores you can buy practically EVERYTHING for just 100 yen, which is about 80 cents. And it's not all cheap crap either. I've bought: nice dishes, olive oil, frozen vegetables, frying pans, bamboo placemats, a bike light, socks, tank tops, cute little purses, really nice floor mats, all manner of little boxes and baskets, plants, picture frames with glass, photo albums, a bulletin board, scisors, tape, nails, Q-tips, dish soap, towels, washcloths, a cutting board, paper towels, spices, pancake mix, a clock, a banana stand... and this is just what I can see from where I'm sitting. I have been pretty good about money so far, I haven't burned through my paycheck like some of the other JETs. But my o ne indulgence is definitely the Hyaku-en. Half the fun is checking out all the hundreds of differnet shops around the city. Some are chains and have basically the same stuff (but maybe with slight variations!) and they get new stuff all the time! Those who have ever been with me to PriceRight may have some idea of the gleam I get in my eyes...

On the work front: teaching is going really well. I have one junior high school that I am at 3 days a week, so I kind of regard them as my home base. There I am supposedly helping out with the English club once a week, and the other two days I've been invited to come to Judo practice and learn along with the students. It was that or Kendo (stick fighting). I'll start next week. I also participated last monday in the school-wide "swimming day" where all the kids spent the morning at the pool competing in races. I was on the female teachers' relay team. We practiced a few times before hand. The other teachers were very impressed with my ability to dive, to do a flip turn, and to swim a whole two lengths of the pool without stopping. Needless to say, we did not win, but we had a lot of fun. The best part of that day was that afterwards the kids were so much less shy around me, the difference was like night and day. Hopefully they will continue to get more talkative as t hey get to know me better. I've only been to one of my other three schools so far, it's an elementary school that I only have for half a day every week. But I really wish I could be there more, I had such a great day yesterday. Instead of forty kids sitting in rows of desks, there are only 20 kids in a class, and they all sit on floor in a big group. Furthermore, they are much less shy, and besides that they are so cute. I think I relate better to younger kids than older kids, maybe because I really enjoyed being that age (or maybe I never really moved beyond it?) Also it's a lot easier to get along without needing language skills. Silliness is pretty universal.

Speaking of young kids, I had my host family from the homestay over for or dinner about two weeks ago and I got another chance to play with Yuki and Taka. I spent all day getting ready (cleaning the floors, cooking, trying to make the place nice) and I cooked the Moroccan beef with prunes and almonds recipie that Douniel gave me. The food here, while really varied and interesting, does not rely very much on spices. In fact they only have one flavor called "curry" which bears very little resemblance to Indian or Thai dishes of the same name. It's basically a brown gravy with some beef thrown in... not terribly appetizing. So maybe they weren't prepared for the garlic, ginger, paprika, and cumin I served them. They were very polite, but I noticed them excessively patting the sweat from their brows with their hand towels when they thought I wasn't looking.

I wish you could see the view from the top of my apartment building. It's bright lights and flashing neon signs and the lights from cars and trains, all relected in the river that runs one block from my building. I'd also like to show you the view from the bridge that I bike across 3 days a week on my way home from Mikuni Junior High. I cross the river from the northwest, and I see the city in front of me, looking much prettier from far away. Also the setting sun is behind me, so all the bridges and bulidings along the river are glowing pink, and I can see kids playing baseball in the riverside park (one of the only green parts of Osaka), while adults stroll along. Or, as I saw one man doing today, just sit and watch the water with a beer in one hand and a tiny little dog in the other.

........................ Ok now it's four days later. The package arrived right on schedule with floss and everything. I had a really nice 3-day weekend since Monday was a bank holiday. I got up at 6am on Saturday to go stand in line and buy tickets for the world judo championships that were held in Osaka this year. The judo was really cool, we saw some really exciting matches, both mens and womens. There are no punches or kicks, just holds and throws. It's a lot like wrestling. On Sunday I went to a festival on in a neighboring town and saw these giant carved wooden floats weighing tons that big teams of people carried through the city streets. We missed the morning part where they do it at breakneck pace and mow down anyone unlucky enought to get in the way (four people killed last year). But the nighttime parade with the floats lit by lanters was quite nice too, and the hundreds food vendors selling everthing from bean-paste filled sweets to fried octopus balls (that's balls of dough fille d with octopus meat, not the octopus's actual balls, so get your minds out of the gutter.) On Monday I went to a "fiesta Mexicana" which was quite amusing. There were food stalls run by all four Mexican restaurants in Osaka, all staffed by japanese people in "traditional dress" and lots of cheap-quality, probably-made-in-taiwan "handicrafts". But there were also imported musicians and performers from Mexico, including a marimba band Anniela and I spent some time talking to whose members are a bunch of young guys who come here every year to play Osaka and Tokyo. I was reminded of (to reveal embarassing secrets from my past), our middle school bell choir's grand tour of the Reno, Nevada area, where we performed at the Roosevelt Junior High Cafeteria, the Motel 6, and other fine venues.

HANSHIN TIGERS: THE CURSE OF THE COLONEL
On Monday night I went downtown to celebrate because the Hanshin Tigers, Osaka's baseball team, just won the national championships! The last time the Tigers won was in 1985, and crazed fans thronged the streets and tossed into the river anyone who looked anything like the team's players. One player, the star of the team, was an American named Randy Bass. At that time there were far fewer foreigners in Osaka, and the only thing they could find that looked even remotely like Bass was a life-sized statue of Colonel Sanders in front of the nearest KFC. So they tossed the statue in, where it sank like a rock, never to be seen again. Legend had it that until the missing Colonel was found, the Hanshin Tigers would never again win another championship. Divers were even sent to recover the statue and break "the Curse of the Colonel", but they never found him. And for 18 years the curse has held. So this year, when the Tigers finally won again, the whole town went completly nuts . It was definitly a sight to see: Namba was packed with people, there were parts where I couldn't even move of my own accord, I could have picked up my feet and just been carried along by the flow. Actually there were times when I was even a little scared that I would be trampled if I fell, but most of the time I was just trying to take as many pictures as possible. All these Japanese people were acting completely un-japanese. They were all totally drunk (beer was being sold on the street for $1) and most were singing the Tigers' theme song at the top of their lungs. People were climbing up light posts, being held aloft by crowd and leading big groups in cheers, wearing crazy costumes (or no costumes!) and of course there was the aforementioned bridge jumping. This year it all seemed to be pretty voluntary: I didn't see anyone get tossed in. But there was definitely a bit of peer-pressure and probably a whole lot of alcohol involved in the decision. Incidentally heavy chains appeared a few weeks ago securing all the Colonel Sanders statues in the city firmly to their storefronts. But since there are now so many more gaijin wandering the streets of Osaka, they probably weren't needed. I definitely saw some gaijin making the leap, and some of the JET girls mysteriously turned up at our weekly meeting the next day wearing Hanshin jerseys that they said they got "for free" but refused explain why.  ¶ 9:30 PM 0 Comments

  Fireworks alcohol and small children, climbing a mountain in clown shoes, mortification and cold tea : Osaka 1 (August 2003)

I have been been here in Japan for just over two weeks. I have to keep reminding myself of this, because it feels like way longer. I have spent the past two weeks getting semi-oriented: I now know how to get to the Borad of Education, where to go grocery shopping, how to use subway (well sort of, there are about five different subway and train systems in this city including numerous private rail companies that compete wtih the state-run trains. This is sort of a telling illustration of what its like to live in Osaka: you have WAY more options that you could ever need, and this is both a good and a bad thing.) I also already have an apartment, a cell phone (called a keitai), and starting today, I have broadband internet connection at my house. I actually get free calls to the US for the all of August and September as part of a promotion by Yahoo, but since I did not bring my US cellphone with me I don't have many people's phone numbers. So send me your number please. I'll try not to call at 4 in the morning.

HOMESTAY, or I CLIMB A MOUNTAIN IN CLOWN SHOES
I had a great homestay with a Japanese family for two days when I first got here. I lived with a fantastic family who took me to varous historical sites in Osaka, and also took me to Nara, site of famous temples, a giant Buddha statue, and tame-ish deer that bow to you when you feed them. Since only the wife spoke English, I spent most of the time communicating with hand signals and animated facial expressions. As a result, I wasn't really prepared when we got to Nara for climbing the mountain. They told me that we needed good shoes for walking, and since I had only brought rather uncomfortable black leather ones, I borrowed the husband's "sport sandals", basically aqua socks, that were about 5 sizes too big for me. So I tromped around in a skirt and gigantic pink clown feet. We saw some temples, had some ice cream, and then they took me to the base of what looked like a very large green hill. "Here it is, do you want to try?" they said. OK, I'm game. We started climbing. Once we reach what I though was the top, another peak appears. This kept happening. About an hour, and about a gallon of sweat later (did I mention it was 95 degrees?) we reach the top. The boys are running along ahead like rabbits, the husband and I are climbing steadily, and the wife is bringing up the rear and dabbing herself with the hand towel that every japanese person carries with them at all times. Believe me, I am beginning to see how it can come in handy. Anyway, it was a great view when we finally got to the top. Also I found it kind of fitting that I was able to start off my Japan experience in the same way that I started off my Ecuador experience: looking down from the top of a peak that I had not been fully prepared to climb. The two boys in my host family (Takahiro, age 5 and Yukihiro, age 9) were so cute, and once I showed them how I could make my tongue into the shape of a "W" they were my best friends for life. Their parents were also awesome, they treated me to everything, including a great sushi dinner that we made at home, followed by endless glasses of sake and chuhai (japanese vodka made from sweet potatoes). Followed by fireworks in the front yard. Yes! I love this country. (Note: I learned later that Japanese people will ALWAYS try to get you drunk and blow things up. It's in the Constitution.)

I leave tomorrow for "summer English camp." All the ALT's (my job title, not even sure what it stands for: assistant language teacher?) from Osaka are being sent away to help out at the summer camps. [Time out here: I am pretty sure that most of you know that I am in Japan teachin English for the JET program, which is run by the Japanese government and brings over hundreds of english-speakers to Japan each year to help improve the english education in the public schools. But for those of you who didn't know... that's what I am doing. I expect to be here for a year, but I may decide to stay a longer.] Anyway, tomorrow I am going with 6 other ALT's to a camp about three hours from Osaka, it's in the mountains, and the weather is supposed to be beautiful and cool. The ALT's suppsedly get our own villa for the duration of the camp (two days). I'm really looking forward to it. We had the "opening ceremony" today where we had to turn up in suits and stand up and wave during the principal's speech. We also got to help the kids with the puppet plays they are preparing for a contest.

THE MOST MORTIFYING THING THAT HAPPENED TO ME IN TWO YEARS (EVEN WORSE THAN WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY CALLED THE VICE PRINCIPAL AN IDIOT (I MEANT TO CALL HIM A PERVRT)):
This country is really big on ceremonies. When I went for the homestay, we were supposed to arrive at 10:00am to meet our host families. Another ALT and I, Mark, went together taking the "JR Osaka Loop Line" which is run by a private company. The loop line is pretty easy as it just makes a circle of Osaka, unless of course you get on one of the trains that do not do this. Which naturally we did. We were going along fine, when suddly the train took an unexpected spur and deposited us at Universal Studios Osaka. Whoops. So we arrived 40 minutes late. We were really stressed and felt really bad, but we figured, not such a big deal, right? Wrong. Instead of just having us meet up with our host familes at the school, they had planned a whole "homestay program" which included, naturally, an opening ceremony. We arrived to see the two groups, ALTs and host families, sitting and staring at each other in complete silence from two opposing rows of desks. There were two empty desks with our nametages on them. Not good. With us there, the opening ceremony, which lasted all of 10 minutes, was allowed to start. We all stood up, said our names and where we were from, and then we were dismissed to leave with our respective families. Probably one of the worst experiences of my life... I wanted to curl up and die right there in my socks.

But, like I said, despite the rocky start, the homestay was great. I was one of only 8 people who signed up to do it, and I'm so glad I did. I am hoping to keep in touch with this family, I invited them for dinner next weekend where I will cook American food. Not sure yet what to make, but I'm thinking pasta with chicken. I wish I could make cookies, but it may be hard with our gas stove (no oven! I am really sad about that, I guess I won't be baking any bread this year.) Apart from the lack of an oven, I am really excited about my apartment. This is my first-ever real apartment, and I couldn't really think of a better place to have it. It's sort of like an efficiency, but there is a sliding door between the living/sleeping room and the kitchen. The kitchen is huge and also functions as a study room, I have my computer set up in here at the table. I also have a little entry way (very Japanese) where you remove your shoes and put on slippers. Also there's a bathroom, a shower room, and a washing machiene. I actually don't have a bed, I sleep on a futon which I keep in a special closet. It's really comfortable actually. I also have a couch I bought that I am really proud of, it converts into a bed as well, but its not as comfy as the floor. I have a little balconly, which doesn't have much of a view (people on higher floors have a spectacular view of the city and the river, but I can see it just by taking the elevator up to the top). It is still really nice to have a balcony and to get some fresh air. The front door opens on the outside too, so I get a good cross-breeze. I have both doors open now, and both fans going, and it's still hot as hell, but I am resisting turning on the AC because I'm trying to keep power costs down and also save the environment. I went a little decorating-crazy, and also am cleaning like a fiend, so I've got the place looking pretty nice. I spent an entire day scrubbing the walls (but they look so nice and white now!). I still have a lot of work to do, but I am really happy here so far. As to the other people I work with, there are seven other JETs living in my apartment complex. There are about 10 others living at a place about 15 minutes down the road by bike, and there are two other apartment complexes spread out around the city. All told there are 28 Osaka-Shi (Osaka City) JETs, and a bunch more in Osaka-fu, who naturally are called the "foos", and who live in the surrounding areas (sort of like the relationship between Menlo Park and San Francisco). Everyone is pretty much in agreement that the Osaka-shi JETs are some of the luckiest in the country. We live right in the city, we have our rent and travel subsidized so we don't actually pay more to live here than other people pay to live where they are. We also get great ammounts of leave time, and since we are employed by the Board of Education and not a particular school, we move around a lot to varous elementary, junior highs, and high schools. So we have lots of variety and are not stuck with one school and one class. Classes start in another two weeks, so I don't really know what my job is like yet. I'll have to keep you updated when I actually start. Well, I can't think of anything else to write right now. I guess I could describe the food (really really good! And cheap! I swear!) or the nightlife, but I'll save that for another time. Oh, I'll try to send a picture of my apartment as well in a separate email, I can take great picutres from my cell phone (and video..... and it only cost me $40). But I can only send the more low-resolution pictures because the files are so big. Still I'll give it a shot, though the operating manual reads like a Faulkner novel translated into Japanese, run over by a train, set on fire, and then translated back into English by a native speaker of Swahili.

  ¶ 9:04 PM 0 Comments

  First Post: I'm procrastinating from studying administrative law to start this blog. Don't most blogs start with "I don't usually do something like this but..."? Well, that's true enough, but I think blogging is pretty in tune with my character (exhibitionist yet dorky) so I'll skip the apologies!

I haven't been doing anything terribly interesting for the past year: I've been in law school. Well it's been interesting to me and a select group of people who care about constitutional penumbras, expressio unius, mens rea, and consideration. But I'm about to take off for Uganda for the summer to work for the Refugee Law Project. I imagine that makes the presumption that anyone might actually want to read about my life slightly more justifiable. I'll do my best to keep it entertaining.

I'll post some of my previous travel writings now as well.  ¶ 8:44 PM 0 Comments