The funniest website ever

Yes, I am being redundant. But after spending a half hour at lunch looking through this website and literally cracking up every five seconds, I can't emphasize it enough.

Go to this website if you want to see the kind of ads and signs I see on a daily basis. Believe me, its not insulting or offensive, it is hysterical and true to life.

I never realized how much fun it was to butcher the English language. But it is.

Me = not a happy camper

The above title is not a reference to living or teaching in Japan - I am having so much fun here and loving every minute of meeting new people and making fun of students and trying to teach my English teacher how to say "what's up" (which, on a completely sidetracked note, I realized something about today. We were practicing it in class - I had to say "what's up" and my Japanese teacher had to make a response, and suddenly I realized - is there really a proper response to what's up besides "nothing much"? That sounds crappy and undistinguished and boring. I taught the kids to say "I'm great" but we all know that Americans don't really say that. At least they don't know the difference.)

Anywho, the title of this entry does reference the absolute frustration that I have with computers in general and internet connections in particular. Today I finally got my modem after two weeks of not having internet at home. I plugged the cables in. I set my computer up. I anxiously awaited that beautiful phrase, hotmail.com, to pop up. No go. I see that there is a CD rom to install. Ok. But wait - the CD rom is in Japanese. Quick call to Negishi-san, who (because she is the sweetest lady ever) comes over to help me install it. Again, no go, first because my computer hates me and will never do what I tell it to, secondly because Yahoo BB does not have English tech support. C'mon people, you don't think that maybe just maybe us English speakers might need some support too? Jeez, you'd think we were living in some foreign country or...

Oh wait, yeah, that is thing about Japan. Important things - like instruction manuals, health and job insurance information, tech support - are never in English. If I am dying by the side of the road and pick up my keitai to dial one last desperate call to 119 (Japan's 911), I'm out of luck because there are no English operators and they will merely say "wakarimasen" over and over again as the life bleeds out of me. Now I am not complaining - I mean, I am not in an English speaking country, that's kind of a "duh" expectation that anyone would have. The weird thing is, if you are dying no one can help you, but everywhere there are signs in English (albeit broken and often completely absurd English). For example:

The flower shop? "Flower and Shop"
The car shop? "Look Auto Shop"
The Mexican restaurant (which is definitely not Mexican as we know it)? "Too Cute"
Weirdest of all, the hair salon next to the internet cafe that I am now in? "The God Shop" with two signs that say "I have a little Gang Star" and "The origin of all fashions"

So, what can I conclude? What is the purpose of this little rant of mine? It is definitely not to say that Japanese people need to speak English - then you could put a dunce cap on my head and throw me to the tiny little Japanese schnauzers that are so popular here. All I ask for is this: please, if English is so catchy and exciting that you use it in all your ads and signs and t-shirts (see www.engrish.com for some very funny examples of this) please use it to help me use my modem! Such a small request!

I hope you are all living tech-free, modem-free, Yahoo BB-free lives. As Yoda (and everyone in Japan) would say, "Impossible to see the future is."

A job in name only

So here I am at my first day of school, and it doesn't look good. So far my teachers have been nervously scurrying around, frantically trying to finish lesson plans and worksheets and panic attacks before class, and I am just sitting here looking pretty, with no idea what I should be doing. Thats the problem with my school, Minami Chu+ although my teachers seem really cool, I will have very little work to do. My predecessor told me that she actually told the principal she was bored senseless - and he nodded, wrote a memo about it, and forgot it the next day. So, in order to keep myself busy, I've decided to make a list of things I could do at school instead of work:

20. Check e-mail. Now I don't have an excuse to never get back to anyone.
19. Blog like it's my job. After all, I do have a blog fan club to appease.
18. Learn Japanese by fully immersing myself in the thousand Japanese textbooks that I now own.
17. Research modernist departments for graduate school. And cry when I get rejected from everywhere but "The School of Hard Knocks."
16. Read other random blogs of likewise bored friends.
15. Write the Great American novel with a twist - it will be written in katakana.
14. Write lyrics to sappy love songs and e-mail them to Gary.
13. Write sappy love poems and e-mail them to Antonio Banderas.
12. Google everyone that I know.
11. Read Ulysses until I actually understand what it means.
10. Write my personal statement for graduate school. It will begin: "How bleak was my puberty in Buffalo."
9. Learn how to play internet chess. Write philosophical treatise on how black and white chess pieces symbolize the increasingly multicultural experience of mid-western Americans.
8. Break down and talk to friends via AIM.
7. Learn to cook soba and udon in the teacher's kitchen.
6. Drink a lot of coffee.
5. If coffee doesn't do it, develop a crack-cocaine habit in the teacher's bathroom.
4. Talk to other teachers and exchange bad words.
3. Buy portable karaoke machine and sing bad J-pop.
2. Scratch my mosquito bites.
1. Co-write a screenplay with Gary entitled "If you thought 6th grade Math class was frustrating..."

I'm....BAAACCCKKK!

Hello from the Land of the Rising Sun! No, I don't have internet yet (still one or more weeks left until that happens) but I now have access to my school's computer, and why write lesson plans when you can blog?

So I have done sooooo much in the last week or so, I have never been busier in my whole life. So, a brief summary of the life according to debbie (since last we spoke):

1. I attended language classes every day for a week. By the end of it, I wanted to rip my hair out and sing "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen." On the plus side, I can say "Gunma machi ni bus ikimasu ka?" "Does this bus go to Gunma machi." Very helpful indeed as I am the poster child of Gunma's public transportation system (see 2, below).

2. I have taken every bus and train in my area at least thirty times. Ok, maybe I am exagerrating, but I have officially become an expert at getting around Gunma (although once I accidentally tried to board the Shinkansen (bullet train) with a JR (subway) ticket - the transport official was not pleased). I can also walk around Maebashi and Takasaki like its my job. That said, driving is suprisingly easy in my tiny Nissan March (it's so cute, I think I'm naming it Buddy), but I still have no clue how to get most places. Oh well, as long as I can get to the 100 yen shop and school, all is good.

3. Last weekend I went camping and mountain climbing with my friend Tomomi (who I met at Language class, she lived in America for three years and speaks great English), her husband Joshi, and her niece Honami. I forget the name of the mountain we climbed, but I will include it later - anyway, it was lovely, peaceful, and the weather held up like a champ. I have no idea how this happened, but I was like Speedy Gonzales scrambling up the mountain, way in front of everyone and feeling like a million bucks. It was the first and last time that will ever happen. Thankfully, true Debbie Goodmanness kicked in on our way down the mountain, which was a very very steep slope that I took forever to get down. Tomomi kept holding my hand and saying "daijobu" which means "are you ok?" It was kinda like me ice skating with Gary for the first time, except I was falling on mud not ice. Anyway, it was so much fun even for all the falls, and I can't wait to go again. Joshi will teach me how to ski in Winter. All I can say is, he is a brave man.

4. After a month and a half of living in a shoebox, I have fixed up my house and it is looking like a real home. The 100 yen shop was my best friend as I reconfigured my musty box into a colorful, bright and homey place for just me. However, while I invested about thirty dollars in picture frames of all sizes and shapes, I happily forgot all my pictures at home - in Utica. But if you want to look at paper pictures of cats, flowers and cute Japanese children, come on over - my house will do it for you.

5. Last Thursday I went to dinner with my friends Abi and Hayley, then Abi and I got a cup of coffee at Starbucks. On Friday I went to a Beer Garden event in Takasaki, and I met some really cool people who I hadn't met yet - I am going out to dinner with one of them next week. Last night I went out to dinner and the White Bar (if you couldn't guess, it's a bar that is all in white) with my friend Bob. The bar owner is a man named Ken who dyes his hair bleach-white blonde and serves nachos. He is obviously Japanese.

As you can see, things have been pretty crazy. But I really love it here, and people have been wonderfully friendly to me. The kindness I have found here really makes me wonder how people can be so scared of each other and hate each other throughout the world. Whenever I am down or frustrated or homesick, its the little moments that get me through the day:

When my neighbor drove me to the recycling shop and tried to teach me the complex interworkings of Japanese garbage;

When I couldn't read where the bus stop was and the bus driver waited for me to get on before he drove away;

When my JTE (assistant teacher) asked the kocho-sensei (principal) to write on Aunt Sandy and Uncle Len's wedding card because his calligraphy was beautiful;

When I forgot my wallet at home, and Joshi and Tomomi paid for my meals and camping fee even though they didn't know me well;

And finally, when, in an onsen in Shibukawa after mountain climbing, an 85-year old lady with gold teeth and sagging skin told me (through Tomomi) that even though she could not understand English, she could understand my smile, and she wanted to be my friend.　　

Walking through rice fields

Today was the first day that I have felt like I belong here in Gunma-Machi. I decided to walk to Minami-chu, my junior high, since it was a little cooler than usual and a bit hazy. I set off from my house about four, and followed a path I had only seen once, from the distance of a car, resigning myself to the fact that getting lost was (and probably would be) an option. I left the main road of Rt. 25 and walked up some solitary residential streets. I passed fragrant gardens, one of which contained more than 100 potted plants of all shapes, sizes, and shades of green, brown and purple on concrete blocks of many sizes, echoing the structure of a traditional Japanese shrine. There was a constant melodic buzz of insects. I passed a black beetle dead on its back on the side of the road; I kicked it underneath the wooden gate of a brown-walled home. I turned onto a small road and found myself next to a brown, rippling lake, from which a waterfall fell into a small river surrounded by lush green foliage. A black fish sat motionless in the lake: I wasn't sure if he was dead or just resting. At the side of the river was a gazebo. There a woman and her daughter ate dinner from paper plates, and a young Japanese man talked on an orange cell phone while carrying a child on his hip. I walked up a brick bicycle path, and soon I found myself walking on the rice field roads that border Gunma-Machi. The shinkansen (bullet train) tracks loomed grey and dark in the distant white haze of twilight. I walked alone on the small road, unaccompanied except for the haphazard woman walking her dog in solitude. I passed fields of corn and ungardened brown soil, but mostly I was surrounded by lush green rice pattys that stretched as far as I could see until beyond the shinkansen tracks, where a white factory stood in the distance. I cannot describe the exact shade of green that colored the rice pattys - I have never seen its exact equivalent, a mixture of yellow, green and white light rustling back and forth in the soft nighttime wind. Dragonflys lilted through the air, dancing around the plants in a game of hide-and-seek. A farmer carrying a tube of pesticide in his white-gloved hand passed; we nodded at each other and leisurely walked on. I was home but not home. And it was wonderful.

I need a digital camera soon!

Just one of the many beautiful gardens that my bedroom looks out onto.

My room! Complete with boombox, bare-bones furniture, and futon!

It's been a hard day's night

Sorry for the lapse, I was at orientation in Maebashi, the capital city of Gunma prefecture and the city to which Gunma-Machi is a suburb. The interesting thing is, Gunma-Machi reminds me so much of New Hartford, the town where I grew up - there are large stores, small family-owned stores, so many restaurants (at least two Italian restaurants that I have seen, but I have a sneaking suspiscion that "Italian" here means pasta...Japanese pasta), and the dichotomy of large built up communities interspersed with quiet, serene residential communities (with the most beautiful gardens - I can't believe how amazing the gardens are here, I think that many people literally devote their lives to these small lots filled with exotic trees, flowers and plants).

So, for a summary of orientation:

Wednesday: Meetings on very official Jet things (taxes, transportation, etc.) - quite boring, even for me. However, after the orientation my friend Amy and I went to dinner at the Ite Yokado, which is a huge department store right by the Maebashi eki (station) and ate at two family restaurants on the fifth floor (we found out where they were by gesturing as if we were eating, then shrugging our shoulders. Sign language is very helpful here). I ate the best hanbugaa (hamburger) I ever had - it was so juicy and covered in mushrooms. Yes, they do eat hamburgers here. Then Amy and I split this desert that was like a chocolate mouse with cream and - weirdly enough - some kind of cracker that tasted like cocoa krispies. Delicious!

After dinner, I went to my first onsen. Onsens are pretty much my version of heaven. They are traditional Japanese spas where you bathe naked in very hot water, and its kind of like a hot tub except with a much more natural feel. Gunma is famous for its onsens, especially ones situated in a mountain which actually use pure spring water and often times are outdoors - these are very popular in the freezing cold winters here, where you can be outside in the snowy peaks of Mount Haruna (a famous mountain about an hour away from me) and yet naked in the bubbly hot depths of an onsen spa. The Maebashi onsen is very metropolitan - its actually just hot water pumped in to a pool rather than a spring itself, and its digs are reminscient of any nice gym in New York City. Still, you can't beat a dip in the onsen plus fifty minutes of wonderful Japanese massage technology (the massage chair and one for your feet - I was in heaven!), all for only something like 1100 yen (11 dollars). Funny Deb story - so the day after I go to this onsen, I went to an onsen etiquette meeting and found out all the things you should not do at an onsen, all of which I (aka stupid American) did. Not wash completely before going into the onsen? Check. Put your hair in the water? Check. Wear jewelry in the water? Check. Yup, still getting used to this whole Japan thing, slowly but surely.


The onsen I went to, except I went at night and was able to sit outside and feel the light night air. A reminder of midnight bucket baths in Africa.

The more traditional Japanese onsen, which is usually completely outdoors and is built on a mountain spring. I will definitely go to one of these before I leave!

Thursday: More meetings on actual teaching techniques, then an enkai with all the Jets and the Gunma big-wigs. Enkais are these after-work parties that you go to with your co-workers every few weeks or so where the Japanese workers usually get (not to be crude, but this is the only right word) shitfaced. For example: the head of the Education Committee started his end-of-enkai speech by jumping up onto the platform and proclaiming "I'm drunk." College-me would have fit right in. After this, we all went to karaoke, where I had a great time with fellow Gunma-ites and made some new friends with people that live close to me.

Friday: Today we had cultural meetings to become aquainted with Japanese culture, such as Japanese dancing, karate, enkais, etc. I went to three workshops: "enkais and social etiquette," in which we talked about the amazingly strict and numerous rituals that surround the enkai, onsen, and Japanese weddings and funerals. The most interesting rituals were concerning weddings, at which you must give clean, crisp money (and not an even number of bills, because they can be torn in two (divorce)- you must give an odd number) in a specific envelope, with writing on it in a new, fresh pen. In contrast, at a funeral you must give old, crinkled money in a specific envelope, with writing on it in a dying, watery pen. I absolutely adore the use of symbolism so rampant within Japanese culture: everything means something else means something else (although practically that means that you never really know what someone is saying).

After that workshop, I went to a shiatsu (a type of Japanese massage) workshop, in which we learned shiatsu pressure points and practiced on each other. High point: the teacher was demonstrating something on me and suddenly gave me this concerned look and said "you have bad back." Seems like some things never change. Needless to say, I gave him my number so that I can free shiatsu massage in exchange for teaching him English. And don't worry, no ulterior motives here - he is infamous for being a wonderful teacher in the Jet community, and usually works with his wife right besides him. Finally I went to a Japanese pop culture workshop. Needless to say, I went to this workshop because I know I will never listen to the horrible boy bands that are popular here, so I need some kind of education before I face a classroom of 13 year old boys and girls. What I learned? There are bands that are literally like gods here: the most infamous one is named SMAP, and all the guys in it are on TV, comedy shows, and movies as well as on very bad albums (see the picture to the left). They have been popular for like 10 years already, and are pretty much a staple of Japanese life; the downside is they can't sing. Gotta love Japanese pop culture.

So that was my whirlwind three days. Today I cleaned and walked around my neigborhood. I stopped of at a small electronic store nearby, and the proprieter sat me down, gave me a hard candy and some green tea, and called his son (a teacher) who asked me in English what I wanted to buy. I somehow was able to communicate that I was only looking (this is where Japanese would come in handy) and the woman working there gave me two ears of corn as a gift. One of my first meetings with my neighbors, and a very nice one at that. The only bad thing today was that I (as usual) have been missing Gary. Long-distance relationships are very hard, and there are some moments where I am a watery-eyed, nose-running fool crying into my futon. I know that living here is a wonderful thing for me to do, but a part of my heart will always be with him, waiting for me to come home and reclaim it.

Lesson in Life #124543 - Do not buy a car before seeing the roads you will drive it on

So as many of you know, before I came here I made a deal to buy this really nice station wagon from my predecessor - it looked like a great buy, nice and new and good for travelling. Then I got to Japan, and suddenly it wasn't such a great deal. The roads here are so small, and I, being the wonderful nervous Jew that I am, suddenly had panic attacks every time I thought about trying to not crash in to the walls surrounding my community streets. So yesterday I found someone to take it from my pred, and the anxiety finally began to fall away - now i COULD LEASE A CAR and not have to worry about if it broke down or had shaken (this huge car tax they make you pay every two years - because of this, any car that's ten years or older is worth about 0 dollars) or anything. Then that fell through, and I had to spend all day - when I was sick with a cold - trying to find someone to take the car. But thankfully I think I found someone, and life is good. So let's cross our fingers. I would hate to go back on a deal and leave my predecessor (however much he sucks) with a car to get rid of in his last week. However, I realize that guilt is not a good reason to buy a car. So let's hope.

For Cousin Jen

In Japan, there is a very famous legend that has become popular the world over. It goes a little something like this:

__________
(From the website: http://www.geocities.com/Rachel_Katz/origami/origami.HTM#crane)

Perhaps the most well known origami model is the crane. It has become the international symbol of peace. In Japan every child eventually learns to make the crane. Eleanor Coerr is credited with popularizing the crane with her book, "Sadako and 1,000 Paper Cranes." This book, which is widely available, tells the story of a young girl who was exposed to the radiation from the atomic bomb that the U.S., dropped which helped to end World War Two. Several years later she develops leukemia. Her friend visits her in the hospital with an origami crane. She tells Sakako that the crane is a symbol of health and that if Sadako can make 1,000 cranes she will be well. Her friend proceeds to teach her to make the crane: it isn't easy but when Sadako masters it, she begins her quest to make 999 more. She is resolved to be brave and making the cranes takes her mind off her illness. As she attracts the attention of the hospital staff and other visitors, they provide her with x-ray foil wrappers, magazines and other papers for her project. As other patients show interest, she stops folding and teaches them to make the cranes too.

Learning that her illness came as a result of war, Sadako spreads her message of peace as she folds her cranes. Soon she has folded hundreds of cranes. Her health improves and she is allowed to come home. But, when her illness returns and her strength weakens, sadly, she isn't able to complete her project. When her classmates realize that she had not been able to complete her dream they all decide to learn how to fold the crane. Soon the 1,000 cranes are complete.

The children decide to write to other children all over Japan to tell them of the story of Sadako and ask them to contribute money for a monument in her name to spread her message of peace. When the Japanese government learns of this plan they decide to rename a park in Hiroshima "Peace Park." There they erect a huge statue with a replica of Sakako holding up a giant crane. Her classmates were given the honor of deciding what to write on the base of the statue. This is what they chose:

This is our cry
This is our prayer
Peace in the world

__________

This story is about war and peace, but I've always thought that its also about hope and friendship. Hope, because Sadako never gave up on her goal of making 1000 paper cranes and living a long, wonderful life. Friendship, because if it were not for the friends, family members, and kind strangers who were touched by her story, the 1000 cranes would never have been completed and the story would not have been passed on. Cousin Jen - you have touched so many people in your life. Although our wishes for good health may not be in the form of a paper crane, they are in the form of love, prayers and good wishes. Feel better, and I promise to make a crane just for you.

Kampai!

When Japanese people are drinking, they say "kampai" instead of cheers. Usually accompanied by much drunken revelry and sloshing of liquor all over everyone, this is one Japanese custom that American people seem to love.

So on Friday afternoon, I made my way by bus to Takasaki. The bus drivers here are so nice, even though I am sure they cannot understand a word I say since the only Japanese I speak without a thick American accent is "arigato gozaimasu" (thank you). I had told my supervisor I was going to Takasaki that morning, and the sweetheart that he is, he went to the bus station and copied down the entire schedule for me at every hour. It's nice to have help when you are clueless.

Once in Takasaki, I realized that fact #1: I had forgotten my directions to the beer garden where we were all meeting that night (the ones that I had printed out and left on my desk at school, wisely enough) and fact #2: there were no gaijin in sight. Where should I go, what should I do? Go to the information booth, of course. The woman at information actually spoke only a very small amount of English, but when I used my electronic dictionary to show her the sentance, "when it is hot in the summer, i slake my thirst at the beer garden" (in English for me and Japanese for her) that very small amount of English conveyed to me that there were in fact two beer gardens, only a block away from each other. So which one was I supposed to go to? I went up the elevator to one: no one was there. I crossed the street to the other: no one was there. Debacle! Finally, when I was about to lose all hope, I caught the eye of the person whom every traveler wants to see when they are lost in Japan: a red-haired, pale-skinned, green-eyed gaijin English speaker! With the help of this wonderful Irishman, I not only figured out which beer garden to go to, but I was treated to fifteen minutes of a thick Irish brogue and the harsh tale of his recent divorce from a Japanese shrew.

The beer garden celebration was on the roof of a large Takaski hotel, and for a measly fee of 2000 yen you are given a plate, which you can load up with as much fried fish and veggies (and french fries, very gaijin-friendly) as you can, and a beer mug for all-you-can-drink alcoholic beverages. I met up again with some great people from orientation, and had a wonderful time schmoozing with other wide-eyed and bushy-taled newbies seeking to regale everyone with tales of their own Japanese culture shock. Interestingly enough, I really get on best with a British married couple (Kate and Ossian) and an American mormon named Curt whose wife is coming up in two weeks. I'm no old married lady yet, but it is nice to be amongst people whose relationship reminds me of the wonderful man I have at home. Also, since it is very very challenging for gaijin girls to pick up dates in Japan (supposedly it is not very culturally acceptable for Japanese men to date white women even though it is more than acceptable for Japanese women to date white men), and since some of my friends here have been unhappily single for a year or more, its best to save the "Gary is so wonderful. Did I tell you how wonderful he is? Gary is just wonderful" comments for those friends who are actually getting some and won't take a chopstick to my heart. After the Takasaki beer garden ended, some of us took the train to Maebashi, where we did two hours of karaoke. After a rendition of Billy Joel's "Piano Man," I came to the conlusion that perhaps I should stick to singers who actually have no vocal range (and who are preferably women). Note to self.

Yesterday I woke up at 12:30 and, with my friend Jocelyn, watched about four episodes of Sex in the City, season 3 (the one where she meets Aidan, cheats on him with Big - oh, such drama). Then a bunch of us took the train to Kiryu Matsuri, a summer festival in the town of Kiryu, which is about forty minutes from Maebashi station (but the trains are so cheap, the ticket was only five dollars!). As we walked down the main street of the festival, we saw many woman in traditional yukata gowns (which are lighter and cheaper versions of kimonos, most popular in the summer and in so many beautiful colors) strolling down the street with their completely contemporary, punk boyfriends. Quite a juxtaposition if I ever saw one.

Down the streets there were street performers (dancing children in traditional "matsuri," or festival, outfits) doing traditional dances with either umbrellas or these paper-flower discs. Kate said she would e-mail me some pictures, and as soon as I can I will post them up on this website. However the best part of the festival was...the food! Yakatori chicken (this really yummy terikayi-brushed meat on a stick)! Chocolate covered bananas! Crushed ice with syrup! Octopus balls (no they are not balls in the gross sense, they are battered balls with octupus meat inside - and I didn't particularly love them)! Jaga bata (really soft potatoes with so much butter, they are a heart attack waiting to happen)! For a really good (and much more educated) discussion of matsuri food, check out this website - http://www.greggman.com/japan/matsuri/matsuri.htm/ - he seems to know a lot about food, truly a man after my own heart. Check out this picture of the Kiryu matsuri (from the Gunma prefecture website):


In the middle of the streets were large, white-and-red paper lanterned towers like this one, in which children sang and played instruments, while both children and adults danced in the streets.

After the festival, Kate and Ossian and I went back to Maebashi for some coffee and good conversation at "Mister Donut" (which, amazingly enough - because its Japan - also sells noodles and curry). This morning I took the bus back to the yakuba and rode my bike home. After a busy weekend, its nice to relax and have a lazy day!

Nihongo of the weekend:

Wakarimasen.

I don't understand.

Pat on my back

I think I FINALLY learned how to bike here!!! I have been trying so hard - every day I get on that bike and get frustrated and swear and get all sweaty and hate biking more than Dubya, which says a lot. But I keep trying no matter how much I fall, and today I biked practically the whole way to the yakuba and back. It sounds so stupid, I know (I mean, riding a bike isn't a big deal), but I feel really proud of myself that I didn't give up, because let me tell you, not being able to bike correctly in a land of bikers is pretty damn embarassing and I put up with a lot to be able to write this now. So - yay! Maybe someday soon I can learn how to ride to Takasaki (which is about 9 km a way) but first I'll perfect riding around G-M. As Bob would say - "baby steps."

Air conditioning!

I finally learned how to use my air conditioner remote by checking out what the kanji meant in my survival guide. Turns out that, like the laundry machine, random buttons are more than just musical beeps and tweets - things happen when you press them! So from now on I will be actually air conditioning my house rather than what I have been doing for the past two weeks - dehumidifying it.

Top Ten Reasons why Japan is not "Asia-Disney"

Although I do arguably enjoy the comforts of home here in Japan, such as modern appliances and cell phones, I never forget that this is not America. It may not be as different from America as Africa, but even in the little details everything is somehow not the same.

10. In America, you dial 911 for an emergency. Here, you dial 119.

9. Yesterday I went to an indoor water park where the burning of trash generated a wave pool for the kids. Pretty cool. Now I was told by my townmate, Heather (who is great by the way, a lot of fun) that Japanese technology is so advanced because they have so little room geographically - they have to be flexible, adaptive and creative in a way that Americans don't have to be. I mean, after all, Americans will just buy a microwave, an oven, a broiler and a grill, but Japanese kitchens are so small that Japanese families need these things all-in-one. Makes you look at technology a whole different way - whereas in America advances are mostly to make life easier, here its a necessity.

8. When conversing with someone, the polite response in America would be to wait quietly until the person is finished talking, then ackowledge what they have said. In Japan, the polite response is to say "Hai" (yes) or "Uh" (I have no idea, I assume it means yes) over and over again until the person finishes. So in my office, when I pay attention to a conversation, I hear the following: "haihaihaihaihaihaihaihaihaihaihaihai...etc.etc.etc." constantly. What's worse is when they use "uh," and it sounds like this guttural sexual moaning over and over again. Try not laughing. It is very difficult.

7. Ever had red bean ice cream? Come to Japan - they have it (as well as blue cheese ice cream and green tea ice cream). Actually, the green tea ice cream is soooo good - as well as these amazing, wonderful petite bits from the Bourbon Company - they are a combination of dark chocolate and green tea-flavored chocolate. the only reason I ate the entire package in one setting was because they were melting in the heat. I swear. Really...

6. Candy and cookies (and actually most foods in Japan) are packaged in very small, tiny wrappers or containers, mostly with tiny little animated characters on them, see 5 below. Every day at lunchtime or in the late morning someone in the office passes around a little cookie or cake. Either this is just a part of the office etiquette, or they are someone's omiyage (omiyage are traditional gifts, kind of like souvenirs. In Japan, when you go someplace, on vacation or even on business, you are supposed to bring back a little something for everyone in the workplace, like a cookie or piece of candy. This integrates your workplace into your private life).

5. I have never seen a working Japanese man in anything but a button-down shirt, tie, slacks and nice shoes. Never ever. Women, on the other hand, can get away with wearing much more casual clothing. I have come to the right country.

6. When something like a piece of furniture or an appliance is more than about two or three years old, most middle-class Japanese families will discard it and buy a new one. Japan is a serious commodity culture, and everyone wants to have the newest and best, be it in Tokyo or in little inaka villages. Works for me - it means that the second-hand stores are wonderful resources for getting really good, new furniture at great prices.


This aptly-named store is a gem of a second-hand shop, the source for my new 600 yen (6 dollar) bookcase. This is a different Hard-Off than the one in Gunma, but you get the picture.

5. Everything here is imprinted with 1. weird, kiddie japanimation or 2. the combination of "lucky" with any word, e.g. "lucky water" or "lucky radio." If you ever want to get into some really weird stuff, look at the obsession with Hello Kitty in Japan. They even have Hello Kitty brand CDs - and believe me, the target audience is not just kids.

4. Only in Japan, the land of no deoderant, would you have a bottled water named "Pocari Sweat." Dirty, smelly sweat. Mmm, mmm, good.



3. Japanese forms are made legal by putting your hanko (signature) on it. But this isn't any Western kind of signature. Hanko is a small stamp that legally represents you rather than a written signature of your name. So my hanko is a small red circular stamp that says, in katakana, DEBORA.

2. One piece of information that I never wanted to know, but Heather told me. So now you will suffer as well. There are some vending machines throughout Japan where you can buy used girl's underwear. If Americans had this, Porky's and Animal House would have been completely different movies.

1. Japanese roads are rarely marked with signs, and when they are they are usually numbered signs or in barely readable kanji. Because of this, most Japanese people have satellite direction systems in their car to tell them "turn right, turn left, etc. etc." The languages that these systems come in? Japanese and...German. Because a lot of Germans are in Japan. I swear. (This last tidbit is courtesy of Heather, my resident expert on the J-way of life.)

So hope you enjoyed my little list. Soon I will get a digital camera and no more downloading random pics of the internet.

Whoever said "It's as easy as riding a bike" should be shot

So, as many of you know, I am not exactly the most athletic person in the world. I have two left feet and the balance of a two year old just learning to walk. So of course I move to a country where everyone bikes everywhere. Now it's not that I don't know how to bike - I finally learned at 12 years of age (note: no thanks to my dad and his lack of patience!) but then ended at 14 years of age, when I realized I could get my parents to drive me everywhere. My problem now is that I cannot bike in a straight narrow line - I keep weaving and then weaving again to compensate for the first weaving...and so on and so on. As I have said before, roads here are tiny, and bike paths are almost nonexistant (about the size of your fingertips to your elbow) so unless I stop weaving on my bike I will die. Really.


The ever famous Japanese "granny bike," mine is black and about as old as Grandma Doris

So yesterday I started out for work an hour early armed with my bike in one hand and wrong directions in another. I could easily ride the small roads in my neighborhood, but once I got onto Mitsudera Rd, which is very busy, the panic set in. I will illustrate with the following scene:

Deb: (walking bike, dying in early morning humid heat) The bike would be so much cooler... (getting on bike, steely eyes directed in front of her, resolve set) I will ride to the yakuba, I will not fall down. (Puts foot on pedal. Bike veers towards huge monster truck in road. Deb falls down.)

Repeat three hundred times. Pan left on all the Japanese people in passing cars looking at Deb, laughing hysterically, and thinking "stupid gaijin" (gaijin, by the way, is the blanket word for foreigner/other in Japan).

I thought I was getting better last night, but alas, this morning I was once again a no-balance idiot. So anyone have any suggestions? I am slowly becoming the laughinstock of my town. I'm thinking of blaming it on an old knee injury. Or my VERY VERY SORE butt.

Anyway, yesterday I met my townmate, Heather, who is a third-year JET and a pretty fluent Japanese speaker. She seems really nice, and tomorrow we are going to a Japanese water park to celebrate her birthday. It supposedly has a wave pool generated by the daily incernation of Japanese trash. Yum. I also talked to one of my English teachers yesterday, and while she hasn't learned how to speak English in the last two days, she was a lot more "genki" (this Japanese word Jets use a lot, it means excited and ambitious and pumped up) about my presence in her classroom.

Anyone know how to download movies off the internet? Supposedly I have a really fast connection and it takes like 20 minutes, but I am technologically impaired.

Nihongo of the day

Watashi wa Amerika-jin.

I am American.

Why I should really learn Japanese

So last night I was doing laundry and everything was going relatively smoothly considering that all the directions on the machine are written in kanji, this really hard pictograph-type Japanese alphabet that even Japanese people have a hard time with. So I go to take my clothes out, and the water is still inside the machine. Debacle! If I run the machine again, it will flood my house. If I don't run it, I will have to wait to have clean clothes for another few days. Solution: Press as many buttons as possible in one minute? No, although it does create a nice sound, as each button corresponds with a musical note and thus pressing each button gives you "Doe-a-deer" in laundry beeps. Move clothes out of water and drip them across your nice clean sheets to hang outside? While I did this, it probably wasn't the best move for my sheets. Figure out which kanji means "dehydration" from my "Kanji Survival Guide"? Yup! Finally, I conquered the obstinate kanji. I was soaked, tired, and full of hatred towards Japanese laundry machines, but I succeeded in the end.

Eating chicken nuggets with chopsticks

The above = what I am doing right now. Now don't get in a huff and lecture me on the fact that I am not in Japan to eat chicken nuggets (which taste different than American ones, by the way, although how that is possible I don't even want to know). I actually have been living off of cheap, processed American food when I don't go out to eat, since I am pretty much broke and not getting paid until August. But I have to say, even cheap processed food here tastes better than in the states.

As I write this, thunder is booming outside, and the sky is a dark haze. Typical Gunma night-time weather thanks to the tremendous humidity. Last night I was able to get in contact with some other Jets in the neighboring city of Maebashi, and another Gunma-Machi Jet (Eric, this older guy with a great family who has just been really helpful to me) drove me there. We went to an Indian restaurant, where I had some paneer nan and asahi beer (a good Japanese brand that tastes like Labatts). Then we went to a karaoke bar. Now for those of you who have never been to Japan and have never seen the Japanese karaoke bar in Lost in Translation, karaoke in Japan is like going to the mall for suburban Americans: it is THE thing to do and THE place to see and be seen. In America, karaoke is when you get up on stage in front of an entire bar of strangers and sing cheesy love songs. In Japan, karaoke bars are much different. They give your group a small room that is pretty much one large booth with a table in the center, and you all sing karaoke together (though there are two microphones for the courageous). The TV that shows the English lyrics (and yes they are in English, we're not fluent in Japanese yet) also shows these absolutely meaningless videos of random footage, i.e. you're singing Madonna's "Material Girl" and watching footage of the Eiffel tower and Americans skating in California interspersed with clips of moody Asian girls pouting and looking deeply into the camera. Quite surreal but oh so Japanese. Did I mention that all the liquor you can drink is included in the 1000 yen (10 dollar) charge per hour? So a fun time was had by all last night, and I sang Green Day's "Basketcase" so loud my ears popped.


Kind of like the bar I went to, except mine was a bit more upscale

Then I hung out with some very cool Jets, Andrea and Jocelyn, and headed to bed about 1 or 2. Jocelyn has all the Sex and the City seasons, so we are going to have a Sex and the City girl's night. Very exciting.

However, because I am still off-schedule, I still woke up about 9, and finished reading Double Indemnity (good book, the ending was far better than the movie ending). At about 12, I went swimming with some other Jets at a Maebashi public pool and got home about 5. Which leaves me here, eating chicken nuggets with chopsticks and drinking orange juice out of the carton. Once I finish unpacking, I am going to watch "Whale Rider" and go to sleep. Oh, good news: I just snagged myself a weekly 6000 yen (about 60 dollar) private lesson with these three older ladies in Takasaki. They like to talk about the news. I guess I can't sound like an idiot anymore.

Nihongo of the day:

Velveeta Mac and Cheese koreo kudasai.

I want Velveeta Mac and Cheese.