Every year the students have Sports Day, a much-anticipated event where the students all do what Americans would think are very strange "sports" in order to show off their athleticism and discipline. Aside from the standard running relays, there are some very amusing games, including "kibasen" where the students pretend they are samurai on horses and "kumi taiso," where the boys form really tall human pyramids (and apparently many students break their arms doing this... haven't seen it yet at my school, though). It was fun to watch and I can't wait to see the real deal this Saturday! In the mean time, check out the "videos" page for some of the things I was able to capture on film!

*so far only one video is uploaded. YOUTUBE IS TAKING FOREVER!

What is up with all the children here knowing how to ride unicycles? I am wondering if this is a new trend, or something that I just noticed recently but has been happening forever?

There is a gang of teeny children who meet outside in the parking lot in front of the building two over from mine. They have their pastel colored unicycles and ride around in circles. But sometimes I see them break free from the circle and go careening down the sidewalk towards the street, which nearly gives me a heart attack every time. I forgot that they are very adept and can turn on a dime with those things.

I fear I will one day be run out of Gakuentoshi by a mob of angry 7 year olds riding pastel unicycles and demanding all my Pocky sticks.

UPDATE: So, it is not a new trend.

Last night was my first Tigers game! The cheers at Japanese baseball games are nuts. They are all choreographed and everyone sings them in perfect unison in time to their noisemaker slapping. What they lack in Kiss Cams and Cap Dances they make up for in fireworks and balloons (see video), and what they lack in garlic fries and Sheboygan dogs they make up for in chu-hi and soba.

The Tigers lost by a lot (10-1 to the Dragons), but the fans keep the spirit alive. Kobayashi sensei told me that currently the Tigers are in first, when they normally finish 3rd or 4th in the season, and the Dragons were in second... I am guessing that changed after last night.

Anyway, see the video below to see what they do for the 7th inning stretch...

In case you couldn't tell, I was VERY excited. Hence the chaotic shaking near the end.

I am not feeling very inspired to write today, but I am slightly bored and my teaching time is over, so I have until 2:00, when I leave to pick up my health insurance card, to fill up my time. I want to appear super productive, but the reality is I have the next 2 weeks already planned out and I don't have anything to do right now. So I decided to compile a list of things that I love in Japan (so far) in an effort to both appear to be insanely productive and record all the things I love now before I head into the dreaded Stage 2.

Efficient trains
At home, BART can be pretty efficient, but even they are prone to breaking down and being delayed. BART workers also seem to be fond of going on strike, which I don't think the Japanese would even think of doing. It seems everyone is pretty content with their lot in life here. The train system in Japan is always always ALWAYS on time, and even though they can sometimes be crowded, at least you are guaranteed an air conditioned car, and although the seats are upholstered like they are on BART, here in Japan they actually appear very clean. And never smelly.

Sweat rags
Since it is still summer, it is still incredibly hot, and it is perfectly acceptable to drape a towel around your neck or carry a rag specifically for the purpose of mopping up sweat. Normally when I see this being done (which I don't think happens too much in California, even on hot days), it kind of looks gross, but since everyone here is into accessories, the sweat rags are always stylish and cute and, best of all, clean. So you can wipe up that disgusting perspiration with class.

Soba
Contrary to what I'd anticipated, I have only had sushi once since being in Japan. I thought everything would be all about sushi, but there are so many other things to eat that sushi eating kind of fell to the wayside. Now I love soba. It is amazing. See here.

Bowing
You can bow for any reason and the person at whom you are bowing will always bow back. I love the bowing. It is awesome. It also reminds you how darn respectful everyone is in this country. After a baseball game, the players run out on the field and line up to bow at their fans. My coworker Alisha noted that the train workers even bow at the trains when they pass by. There is just a level of reverence and appreciation exhibited by everyone in Japan that is simply lost on most Americans. Sad.

Daiso
I recently found out there is also a Daiso in the Bay Area, but since I didn't know that before I came here, I can say that Daiso is a reason why I love Japan. Also called the 100 Yen store, it is a wonderland of useless items juxtaposed with things you absolutely can't live without, and it is easy to confuse the two. I once filled up an entire basket with random things (most of them very useful, others may have been questionable), and I ended up spending only 3,500 yen. That is roughly $40. Weee!

The strength of the yen
Right now the yen is very strong. I hope it stays that way!

Cleanliness
Everything is so clean. I am not going to like coming back home to a dirty city. This is partly due to the fact that they are really anal about their garbage systems, and people carry around trash for miles until they can find an appropriate bin. (In case you were wondering about littering, it seldom happens, since I think you might get a huge fine, or at least a nagging tug on your conscience, and the Japanese seem to be a very polite and conscientious people.) Being in Japan is like walking around my parents' house before company comes over. Like fancy company.

Offensive American rap
For a country that can be very conservative, I find it awesome that they play vulgar rap songs in the strangest places, like, say, the sauna at the YMCA. The naïveté of this is just as endearing as...

Affinity for sporting marijuana paraphernalia
People have pot leaves hanging from the rear view mirrors and wear t-shirts with pot leaves on them. But it doesn't mean they smoke weed. In fact, most people aren't even aware of what it is. This country is so drug-free that the common citizen simply associates the image of a pot leaf with the carefree rastafarian lifestyle... Minus the cannabis. It's like sporting a peace sign to them. Totally harmless, I swear.

Children in hats
Japanese mothers have a tendency of putting silly hats on their children. Particularly the little boys. But the best part? The kids wear it like it ain't no thang. Oh, this silly looking straw hat with the blue ribbon with white boats tied around the brim? Yeah, this is my too-cool-for-school look. Adorable.

Walking
Why am I walking everywhere? I hate walking! Oh, wait, I have to walk because I don't own a car or a bike. But guess what? I have actually begun to enjoy walking places. I like walking leisurely to observe my surroundings, I like walking quickly during my morning commute to get where I need to be (and I take pride in passing the slower walkers, cuz I am usually the slow one with my short little legs, but in Japan my legs are the same length!), I like walking home after the gym at night and feeling the breeze cool me off after my workout, I like walking around my complex while talking on the phone... I have been converted to a walking nut.

Sockies
Or, socklets. Every woman in Japan needs a pair or ten. At home, I always wore my flats with no socks, and then would get home and air out my stinky sweaty feet, and curse any blisters I may have accumulated through the day. But the Japanese wised up and use little socks under all their flats, and although I hated the look of them at first, it has grown on me, and now I have a pair of black lace sockies that have a padded sole. Goodbye blisters and stinky feet! I love that these are sold everywhere for really cheap, including convenience stores. Which brings me to...

Combini
The combini is just what you call a convenience store. Except it should be called a convenience superstore, or a convenience better-than-anything-in-America store. We have 7-11 here and Am/Pm, but the one I frequent the most is the Sunkus by my house, which I think is owned by Circle K. You can get anything at the combini at any hour of the day. And, like everything else in Japan, it is always clean. Never has that weird sticky florescent smell. (Yes, there is such thing as a florescent smell... Think of all the common public places that have florescent lighting: DMV, hospitals, libraries... All have that weird smell...) Plus, you can pay your bills there. PAY YOUR BILLS AT A CONVENIENCE STORE! How apropos.

Vending machines
There are vending machines on every corner! Quite literally! And they are stocked with delightful beverages of all kinds: juice, cola, coffee, milk tea, water, ion water, chocolate milk,etc. Americans, take note. Home would be a much better place if I could conveniently buy my drink the seThere are also vending machines for cigarettes = not as awesome, but if dealing with that means I can have my beverage machine, too, then I'll take it!

Ok, those are the things I can think of for now. I will no doubt find more to write about.

 

Hooray for Japan!

I have a new love. Please don't tell Dan. (I don't think he'll ever find out through this blog, since I am pretty convinced he's never read it anyway!) But I found this new love by accident... Or was it serendipity? There is a thin line between accidents and destiny, and I am toeing it.

It started on Saturday.

Back up, it actually started on Friday when the idea was first planted in my head. It came out in two staccato syllables escaping from my kocho sensei's mouth: "So-ba?" The question mark is not an accident. His voice lilted upwards when he said the word. He was asking if I'd ever tried zaru soba, and even though I had heard of soba both at home and in Japan, I had yet to venture down that road. "It's so healthy! It has antioxidants! It's good for your digestion!" come the cries of soba fans, but I am stubborn and I tend to only want to try things because I want to, not because someone tells me to. Plus, it feels wrong to try to abandon my solid relationship with gohan, which has served me well all these years. "But there's no nutritional value in rice!" some may say. Indeed, it is the rice that is making my middle a bit more squishy than I would like. But it is familiar, and I didn't think I needed any more starch in my diet. (Fact: soba is made from buckwheat, which is infinitely better for you than any other pasta product. I think that is mostly true.)

Anyway, the question of soba, using limited English, intrigued me. Surely if kocho sensei is trying to convince me to eat it rather than easily give up, shake his head, and walk away (I often feel he gets exasperated with himself and would rather not talk to me at all), it must be worth it. So I unwittingly filed it in my head under "stuff to consider doing while in Japan, but you don't necessarily have to do it in order to experience the best the country has to offer." I should have actually filed it under "stuff that will change your life."

Fast forward to Saturday afternoon. Cherrelle and I were lazing around with nothing much on the agenda. All of a sudden it struck me how much I wanted sushi. I needed some sushi in my tummy like a pirate needs a parrot on his shoulder. That's pretty serious!

We wandered through Campus Square, convinced there had to be a sit-down sushi place somewhere. We looked at the dislpay windows that proudly showcased the restaurant's array of dusty plastic food. There was something that somewhat resembled one sushi dish, so we went inside. To our surprise (and, at the time, my chagrin), there was only that one sushi dish offered and the rest were all noodle dishes. And, of course, we still can't read kanji, so we had to decide what looked best from the pictures. Cherrelle ordered soup and the lone sushi offering, and I decided to go ahead and try some cold soba with octopus on top.

Now, anyone who has seen soba knows it doesn't look that appetizing.There is no fancy sauce on top, and the noodles themselves are kind of a greyish color. But, anyone who has looked at soba and dismissed it based on its appearance has made a huge mistake! My soba was delivered to me all in a bowl topped with some thick octopus (which I have grown to absolutely love) and sprinkled with nori and scallions. A small jar of cold soba tsuya came with it, which I was to pour over the noodles. There was also a smudge of wasabi on the lip of the bowl. I am sad to say I didn't bother taking a picture for my flog because I wasn't expecting much, and by the time I started eating it, I was so engrossed that the thought of flogging didn't even cross my mind.

I poured the tsuya over the top, mixed around all the toppings, and decided to be brave and add the spicy wasabi to everything too. When I took my first slurp, I'm pretty sure I went "Whoa!" It was refreshing, it was delicious, and it beat the pants off any other noodle dish I've had in Japan so far.

All cravings for sushi were quickly dissolved. I slurped the soba as though I were a prisoner on Death Row. The octopus was also a delicious compliment to everything else. It was one of those eating experiences where you start approaching your last few bites, and you actually feel sad. But, once it was over, I realized this was the beginning of something beautiful.

I started to wonder how wrong it would be to try to get some soba for dinner in lieu of going to the dinner party I was invited to that night. Surely I can have just a small bowl, and then make it to the party and eat some cake and appear to have a delicate appetite? I decided against this, but the whole time I was on my way to the dinner party, I started thinking about where else I could get soba from, and how soon could I go there. That, night, after the dinner party, I went to the conbini to grab myself a late night snack. But in reality, I was really scoping the deli aisle to see if they had any soba I can buy and shamefully eat in a dark corner somewhere. I pictured myself in my Gollum stance with my arm protecting my soba bowl, and if anyone would approach, I would turn my back to them and hiss, "My preciousssss." (Note: I have never seen Lord of the Rings, so what I am picturing in my head is probably inaccurate.) Unfortunately, the conbini was pretty empty that night, and I had to settle for a bowl of dehydrated ramen, which I ended up not eating that night because I was too disappointed about not finding soba.

Now I will take my soba wherever and however I can get it. Quick and cheap (from the convenience store). Hot and slow (at the soba restaurant at Campus Square). Fat soba, thin soba, I'll take it. I am an equal opportunity soba consumer. It doesn't matter where I have it; it always leaves me feeling satisfied, if not a little bit dirty. (As I type this I notice a tsuya stain on my white shirt and bits of nori scattered on my desk.) It has become my secret shame to think about my next bowl of soba. I have also become paranoid. The old lady on the train is staring at me. Is it because I'm gaijin, or because she knows I am trying to figure out an excuse to stay in Sannomiya till dinnertime so I can score some soba? Can they smell the scallions on my breath? Will my skin start to emit a buckwheat odor? What does buckwheat even smell like?

So if you happen to see me dining by myself in an isolated soba shop two towns over, pretend you don't know me. And please ignore the tsuya stain on my shirt.

PS- I expect my mom to be making a comment on the healthful benefits of soba in

I know JETs working at other schools can also say the same thing, but since I don't work for those schools, I can't vouch for them. I can, however, rightfully say that my school is rad.  

Can we please bring back that adjective? It isn't used nearly enough.

Anyway, reasons why Nagamine wins at the Rad Game:

1) Teachers
The teachers here are super sweet. They all got the memo that you are supposed to be nice to the ALTs, and a few of them will approach me to practice their English. They all have silly sense of humor, too. Plus, nobody else has a Kobayashi sensei. He alone wins the Rad Game for the school. He wears Crocs, after all.

2) Students
Sure they are a little shy at first, but I think that is just a country-wide trait. Having to coax answers out of kids comes with the territory (at least here in Japan). But, once you butter them up with postcards from San Francisco and the promise of stickers, they are hilarious. I can tell which ones are the most devious, but since all of them are essentially good kids, I quite love them already.

3) Lunchtime
Like I'm sure many other chugakus in Kobe do, they totally rock out during lunch. Now, I didn't know this because so far I've only been present for one lunch period, and I spent my time in the quiet staff room. But, today, as I was clearing out my stuff from the library, all of a sudden the intercom went on, a student said something something something something in Japanese, and then a loud head-banging rock song started blaring from the speakers. Whaaaa? I looked around, confused. Did someone hijack the speaker system? My OTE told me that they get to listen to whatever music they want during lunchtime. They take turns playing DJ, too. Who knew my kids were heavy metal fans?

4) View
One thing I know my school has over any other school in Kobe is the view. Holy moly, the view! I know we are situated on top of a giant hill and it's a pain in the butt to climb it (and expensive to cab it) every day, but the reward is the amazing view of all of Kobe. It's gorgeous. Check it out sometime.

5) Supply room
I've always worked at schools that had pretty tight budgets. Sometimes we'd run out of paper, and to hell with trying to get a new stapler. But the schools in Japan come equipped with the most well-stocked supply rooms imaginable! Magnets and cardboard and colored paper, oh my!

6) Kocho sensei
Kocho sensei is a tough nut to crack. He is always standing in some kind of stern manner, either with his arms folded across his chest with his chin up and peering down his nose at you, or with his hands on his hips, still with his chin up and peering down his nose at you. I know his English is not that great, but I hesitate to say that is the reason he doesn't talk to me much. I think he just doesn't like me. But anyway, the reason why he is rad is because he told me about zaru soba. That post will come soon, I promise.

I am sure there are a million more reasons and I can go on and on for days, but think of this as a bit of an amuse-bouche to entice you to want to come visit me and see how rad Nagamine is for yourself.

Peace out,

Japan, I have a bone to pick with you.

For a country that prides itself on its cleanliness, you sure are unsanitary. First there are the public restrooms without soap. No, not "Woops, Gertrude forgot to refill the soup dispensers, what a silly little bathroom matron," but the restrooms actually have no soap dispensers (about 50% of the time). Then you insist on having me select my baked goods by placing them directly on cafeteria trays. Do you wipe those trays down afterward? Oh, you do? With that brown rag? Hmm. I was willing to overlook those things, because exposure to germs can actually benefit your immune system, but some things just cross the line.

Like your urine tests.

Today I went to visit my friendly neighborhood City Hall for my health check. No big deal... blood pressure, eye test, hearing test, weight and measurement, and the requisite urine test. In the states, we pee in sterile plastic jars with screw-on lids that have our names or medical numbers labeled on them, and there is usually a little depository window in a bathroom or discreet area so that we can drop off our samples.

Oh, wait, you want me to pee in THAT cup? The little paper cup out of which I would otherwise drink a cold beverage at a child's birthday party? And you're not going to offer me a lid to conceal my sample from passersby, a way to label my pee, or a nice sterile biohazard bag to put it in? Oh, and you want me to walk with my open cup of pee down the hall and stand in line in an open room to have my health check completed? You don't think that's weird? No?

So there I am, holding my warm cup of pee (sounds like it can be a country song), thinking it doesn't get any stranger than this-- and yes, my fellow JETs are standing around me doing the same, and we are all giving each other the side eye and pretending it's normal and no, that is not urine in my cup. But, it does get stranger. We are being herded like cattle through the different health stations. It is a quick and efficient (though I hesitate to say thorough) method of checking the health of everyone in the city. You tell me to go to the first station where a friendly lady sits waiting for me to have my pee tested. No privacy! No, I am not behind a curtain or in a little room. I am just standing at a table handing my cup of pee to the lady sitting on the other side. Kind of a reverse lemonade stand of sorts. She quickly puts in the litmus paper, the colors change accordingly, she marks off my health form, and hands it back to me. I start towards the next station, but stop suddenly when I wonder: What is she going to do with my little cup of piss? I turn and see that she very casually dumps the urine in a small translucent jug on the floor and discards the cup in a wastebasket. A JUG OF URINE. URINE BELONGING TO SEVERAL DOZEN PEOPLE. All I can do is turn my widened eyes away and pretend to unsee what I just saw.

You sure do things differently here, Japan.