Post Without a Cause

The problem with finding time to write is that I’ve also found that I didn’t really have as much to write about as maybe I thought I did. For a while now, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to update my blog fairly regularly, but I kept running into the problem that every day when I get home from work, the last thing I want to do is sit down and type something out.

The solution I found was to start bringing my computer to school. Most days I have at least one period of downtime, and most days I spend that time trying desperately not to fall asleep. There are days when I’m busy enough that it isn’t really a problem, but it’s hard to tell when those days will be. By bringing my computer to school, I managed to solve two problems at once. I was able to write journal entries while at school, and I didn’t have to worry about falling asleep at my desk for lack of anything to do.

Of course, the first week I tried this I ended up having no downtime whatsoever, and wrote absolutely nothing. I was still convinced it was a good idea, though, and persisted in bringing my computer with me the next week; sure enough, little windows of time started to pop up, and whenever they did, I started writing. Now I’m sitting in another of those little time pockets and I find that I don’t really have anything to talk about. Even though I’m typing, it’s more to stay loose and stay in the habit of writing than anything; then there’s also the previously-mentioned benefit of not falling asleep.

You might have already guessed this, though, from the fact that I’m actually writing about not having anything to write about. If you’ve actually read this far through the post, I apologize. I really should have told you from the beginning that you would find nothing of redeeming value here today. Then again, I should probably give you that warning at the beginning of every post.

…

So, in the middle of writing this, I had to leave my computer to go make pottery. This is how school works out here in Masago. There are plenty of days where it’s business as usual; classes, tests and the like. But there have also been plenty of days where we do something totally unexpected, at least by me. Since I’ve started teaching at Masago, I have helped carve an enormous jack-o-lantern, taken a field trip to Tsuwano, and released birds into the mountain wilderness. Today, I add making a ceramic bowl to my list of Masago extracurriculars.

The Wondrous World of Hikimi

I have a confession to make: sometimes, things happen and I neglect to tell you anything about it. For example, I saw a badger at school today. Wait, that’s a terrible example. After all, I’m telling you about it, aren’t I? It was pretty cool, though. I don’t remember ever seeing a badger up close before, which means I never have, or I have a really bad memory. I’m honestly not sure which is the case.

Anyway, the reason I’m telling you about the badger is that seeing it reminded me of something else I saw, was amazed by, and then promptly forgot to write about.

About a month ago, I was driving along in the mountains on my way to Hikimi. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about these mountain roads: crazy. Every Friday I wake up extra early because I have an hour-long commute to work. Of that hour, about 45 minutes is spent navigating treacherous mountain passes; narrow, winding roads filled with blind turns and surrounded by deep gutters, inviting your car’s wheel s to just slip in for a moment.

The tradeoff for enduring great peril is some incredible scenery. In fact, even though these roads will undoubtedly be the cause of my own fiery death, driving through them is made rather enjoyable by the fact that it’s essentially like driving through a huge Bob Ross painting. Happy little trees and all.

On occasion, I’m treated to a view of wildlife even more intriguing than the rare and exotic badger, which brings me back around to what I was trying to tell you in the first place. Man, no wonder I didn’t write about this. Anyway, about a month ago I was driving along in the mountains on my way to Hikimi. As I came around one of several blind turns, I saw a form standing in the middle of the road. At first, I thought some irresponsible parents had abandoned their hairy, ugly child in the mountains to either die or grow up wild and become the subject of campfire stories.

However, as it turned to look at me—its piercing gaze chilling me to the bone—and walked into the forest, I realized that magnificent, hairy, ugly child was actually a monkey. Sweet.

Oh, also on the list of things I forgot to mention, I went to Hamada last weekend to celebrate Thanksgiving with a bunch of other ALTs. I made sweet potato casserole. Check it out!

The Surgeons of Lunchtime

Lunchtime is something of a strange occurrence here in my experience. Every day, I start getting hungry around ten-thirty, but when lunch rolls around (12:40 at most schools) it brings with it no comfort, no solace. Whether or not I'll be full by the end of lunchtime on any given day is anyone's guess, and the question always fills me with apprehension as fourth period draws to a close.

I never considered myself an especially picky eater when I lived in America. There were certainly things I wouldn't eat (mustard-flavored ice cream, for instance), but I didn't feel my range of tastes to be out of the ordinary.

The problem is in Japan, 75% of food is out of the ordinary, at least according to American standards. Don't misunderstand me here; there are plenty of Japanese foods that I love. I'm fascinated by Japan's many varied and delicious interpretations of the humble noodle. School lunch, however, is a completely different animal.

I won't bother with giving you the details; they would serve only to bore or horrify you. Simply let it be known that I am not terribly fond of school lunch. Furthermore, let it also be known that the previous sentence was an immense understatement.

More interesting than lunch itself is the way it's served. In American schools, lunch is prepared and served by school personnel whose primary function is to prepare and serve lunch. In Japan, these people do not exist, having been replaced long ago by robots which were - according to Japan's Ministry of Education - cheaper and more efficient.

Sadly, these robots began to break down all over Japan and were never fixed because the engineers who designed them starved to death while working on a solution. Now lunch distribution is handled by the students themselves.

Every day, trucks pull up to the schools, their holds full to bursting with strange and exotic foodstuffs. These are passed off to the students in gleaming metal buckets and then dished out onto plates for individual consumption.

Methods vary slightly from school to school, but the main points stay the same. Every day at the same time, bad pop music kicks in over the school's speaker system, compelling the students to action. Quickly, they don their aprons and organize themselves according to some mad, indecipherable scheme. Then, their dark work begins.

The only notable difference is at the elementary school, where lunchtime is serious business. Here they wear not aprons, but rather full smocks, along with special caps and masks. As they scurry about, their eyes solemn with the weight of their responsibility, the resemble nothing so much as tiny surgeons.

Ladies and Gentlemen

Well, Halloween has come and gone with little fanfare, and has left me regretting the shortcomings of everyone's favorite Youtube. Finding "Garfield's Halloween Adventure" and "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown was no problem, but such Halloween classics as the original "Disney's Halloween Treat" and Bugs Bunny Halloween Special were curiously absent. It's a terrible loss, but the memories of these fine programs will live on.

While we're on the topic of these old animated specials, anyone notice just what a raw deal Charlie Brown got? I mean, honestly; sure, his so-called friends never treated him very well, but it extended beyond just that. Even adults - people who had presumably never met Charlie Brown before in their lives - felt compelled to throw rocks in his trick-or-treat bag. That's just mean.

By the way, following this tangent even further, why does the cast of invisible adults that populates the world of Peanuts seem to completely exclude the children's' parents? And it's not as though we just don't ever hear from them; they don't seem to be present at all. For instance, late Halloween night - long after everyone has gone to sleep - Lucy wakes up and checks to see whether Linus has returned from the pumpkin patch, and finds his bed empty. She then gets dressed and treks out to the pumpkin patch herself to bring him home. Where on earth are their parents when this is happening? No one in their right mind would let their kid go sit in a pumpkin patch alone all Halloween night.

It makes me wonder whether the children of peanuts actually live alone in some kind of frightening society of their own design, free of the constraints placed on them by the adults of this world a la Children of the Corn. Lacking true authority figures, they follow imagined orders issued by disembodied voices, made by the children's' twisted psyches to fill various roles, such as 'teacher' and 'doctor'.

Man, Peanuts was weird.

We used to talk more, didn't we?

Yes, we did. Alright, look. Yes, I promised in that video thing that I was gonna start posting regularly again, but here's the thing; that was a horrible, horrible lie. Sometimes the camera makes me say crazy things, make promises I can never possibly keep, that sort of thing. Once, I was caught on camera stating in all seriousness that I planned to build a life-sized replica of the Louvre entirely out of cottage cheese. I am back again, though, hopefully this time for good. However, not being on camera right now, I don't really feel like making any promises.


This is all assuming that anyone is even still checking for updates. If you are, drop me a comment; I'd love to know if this blog has turned into just so much shouting into dead space.

In any case, I shall continue writing, just as I continued trying to make bricks out of cottage cheese, even after I knew the effort was futile. This past weekend, we put on the Halloween party for elementary school students, and overall I'd say it was pretty successful. We started off by introducing ourselves to all of the kids one by one in English, which meant that absolutely none of them knew anything about us by the time we were done talking. Not that it really mattered anyway. James revealed at the end of the introductions that he was dressed as Spiderman, and that seemed to make them pretty happy.

After the introductions, it was time for costume construction. The children were given paper plates, colored paper, crayons, and scissors, and then were set loose to bring their dark and twisted designs to fruition. I actually found myself being surprised at just how creative these kids were with the materials we gave them. There was, for instance, a boy who used his materials to make a quite proficient version of the Halloween classic, "Cat With Crab Claws and Angel Wings". Truly it was a sight to behold.

It was also interesting to see what these kids were familiar with. It was really odd seeing these Japanese schoolchildren, most of whom can't have been born before the year 2000, walking around with Jack Skellington masks and arm patches. It was also awesome.

After costume construction, the kids broke up into groups of six and the ALTs all went to their different stations; this was where it was my turn to shine. There were three different rooms where stuff was going on, with ALTs and BOE employees evenly distributed throughout all of them. There was a games room, a trick-or-treat room, and a haunted house. Jake and I had been in charge of designing and assembling the haunted house, and we were prepared. I would describe it to you, the terrible result of our mad scheming, but it's possible that mere mention of the horrors that lay within may be enough to scar your mind. Fear not, for I am not so cruel a man.

The first group of children to go through the haunted house seemed to enjoy it well enough, although I wouldn't exactly say that they were scared. The problem was really with one kid who was probably to old to be there in the first place; I'm not entirely sure how he got in. In any case, this one kid wasn't scared of anything, and it made the experience less frightening for everyone else. It's just kind of hard to be scared of a monster that gets headbutted by a child and then stands there looking bewildered.

In defense of our haunted house, every group that came after that first one was scared of it. And when I say that, I mean it; they were actually afraid of the house itself. Many of them refused to even set foot in the first room. Those that did usually didn't go any further, and at least one or two left in tears. I'm not entirely sure whether I should be proud or ashamed. Regardless of how I feel about it, I'd at least say we succeeded in creating a frightening haunted house. Out of the thirty or so children who were at the party that day, about ten of them actually made it as far as my station in the third room.

I mean sure, one of those ten headbutted me, but I still like to think those are pretty good numbers.

Hey!

Hi everyone. It's been a few days, but I'm back, and I'm better than ever. In fact, not only am I back, but I've brought something with me in an attempt to make up for this week's crimes of omission. I think it'll be really popular with those of you who loved the Blair Witch Project. Check it out!

A Cry for Help

Yesterday evening, there took place what I am prepared to call the greatest meeting of minds the small town of Masuda has seen in several years. It was the first time all of the ALTs have gotten together since school started, and it will likely be talked about by the people of Masuda for weeks to come. Even a single foreigner is highly noticeable in Masuda. When a whole group of us gets together, I imagine people start to worry.

We met at a place called Gusto, a restaurant which tries so hard to serve authentic foreign dishes, bless its heart. Sometimes it succeeds; I mean, for the most part a cheeseburger is a cheeseburger is a cheeseburger, right? The real failures are in the little things. For instance, no American establishment would serve a cheeseburger with exactly six french fries on the side. I have also never before seen a meal consisting of steak, rice, and miso soup before. I dunno, maybe I just never went to the right steakhouses. All the same, Gusto is quickly becoming my favorite restaurant in Masuda by virtue of the fact that it has free drink refills, unlike every other restaurant in town, including McDonalds.

The purpose of the meeting was to discuss plans for a Halloween party we'll be putting together for some elementary school students later this month. The place is going to be split up into four different activity areas: costume construction, trick-or-treating, games, and a haunted house. Now, the first three areas are pretty straightforward, and we essentially know how we'll be operating those.

Plans for the haunted house, however, have not yet been finalized. Jake and I have been put in charge of this task. Being a huge, scary dude myself, I naturally was immediately chosen to be some kind of monster. We have other ideas, too, but I want to do this thing up right. I want to put together a haunted house that will have these kids waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night - years later.

So I thought I would turn to you for help. Not just you, though. Other people, too. People who may in fact be reading the same blog at this very moment. The thought that more than one person reads what I throw up here is pretty scary in itself, but I'm looking for more ideas from you. What would you do if it was your job to scare children? Leave me some ideas in comments or shoot me an e-mail. Remember: I may be pretty scary on my own, but together, we can make a haunted house these kids will never forget; even with the aid of therapy.

On Shopping

Tomorrow is the day I carve jack-o-lanterns with my students at one of my schools. It should be a lot of fun and I'm looking forward to it, but I got an e-mail from the English teacher there earlier informing me that we would not only be carving pumpkins, but also engaging in some kind of trick or treat. I was game, but it made a shopping trip necessary, and that was not enjoyable by any measure.

To say that I dislike shopping here in Japan is something of an understatement; I won't say by how much. Instead, let me just describe it to you. If I do my job well, you'll be able to experience the dread, the confusion, the creeping uncertainty from the comfort and safety of your own home. Not only that, but as with all my blog posts, you experience these terrible sensations at absolutely no expense to you, the consumer.

Imagine being in a grocery store. Now imagine that large portions of this grocery store smell like Sea World. Got it? Good, we've taken the first step. As you begin walking through the store, shopping list in hand (you're an organized shopper, after all), you slowly realize that something strange is going on. Nearly all of the recognizable brands have simply vanished. More than that, though; several recognizable foods have vanished as well. All of a sudden, you can't find Pepsi or cheddar cheese. Roast beef is little more than a memory.

The few familiar food items that remain are flanked by a million variations on the noodle, and things that look as though they might fight you if given the chance. What's more, the familiar foods have apparently gone into the witness protection program, perhaps to escape some particularly vicious eggplants. These foods have shed their normal packaging and donned strange new outfits, with labels written in an alien language.

My shopping experience today didn't start off too badly, since I was pretty much just looking for candy. Luckily, mini Kit Kats seem to have made it over here unscathed. A bag of those, and a couple packages of what were obviously some kind of fruit flavored candies and I was nearly ready to go.

It turns out one of my students can't eat foods with artificial flavoring, I guess. I don't know if it's some kind of allergy or what, but it meant I had to find something for her that wasn't really candy but also wasn't completely lame. This can be difficult to do, especially if you don't know anything about Japanese food or the Japanese language. Being unable to read packages or ask for help severely hampered my search. Eventually, I found some raisins and peanuts, which seemed like a good enough idea at the time. I also got these red things that are either large cherries or small tomatoes.

Of course, given what little I do know about Japanese foods, it's also possible that these objects are made entirely of rice.

Frogs!

I am not a zoologist. I took a class once in college, but I did not retain most of the knowledge handed down to me in that class past the final exam. I do not pretend to know much of anything about any animal, let alone things like breeding habits or social structures. That said, I am almost certain that my apartment building is located next to some sort of incredible frog hive. I imagine it buried directly beneath my building, stretching for miles in all directions, worker frogs and soldier frogs quietly traversing its many tunnels and passageways while the queen frog lies in a great chamber at the center, pumping out more loyal servants.

They're everywhere, you see. Not during the day of course, oh no. During the day, there are only the standard enormous, deadly spiders to contend with. But at night, under cover of darkness, they begin to emerge from their subterranean lair. On breaching the surface, they quickly fan out, establishing control of the apartment's lower level. Then they start to climb.

A lot of nights, I get home pretty late, and on those nights the stairs are covered with frogs. I'm forced to tread lightly and watch my step, for fear of squashing these gentle creatures. Sometimes, I get to the top of the stairs in time to see one of them jump off the edge in fear, plunging into the dark abyss. A moment later, I hear a tiny 'thap!' as it hits the ground. I always wonder if they survive.

The first time I ever noticed the frogs was one night my first week here, when I saw one sitting on my back window. I'm not sure what he was doing there, exactly, but he was very intent on doing it. I ran and grabbed my camera for fear that I would never see him again. Turns out he really likes that window.

Behold the Power of Bunai

Tonight's post is going to be pretty short (unlike my other posts up to this point) and uninspired (exactly like my other posts up to this point) because I'm tired and don't particularly feel like writing, but I know if I don't keep it up I'll get out of the habit and never write in this thing again.

I don't think I've mentioned Bunai-san yet, so let me go ahead and do that now. Bunai works at the BOE in some capacity which I'm still not entirely sure I understand. I've already told you about Ago, who is for certain and for sure my direct supervisor, but occasionally Bunai will show up as well, either with something for me to do, or to help me with some trial and/or tribulation that I'm facing at the moment. I like to think of him as a kind of mega-supervisor, but I would guess that's not his official job title.

Bunai has friends all over Masuda, all of them ready and willing to do Bunai a favor whenever he should need it. I worry sometimes that maybe he's some kind of big-time Yakuza boss who rules his territory with an iron fist; then I realize that if such were the case, he would probably have better things to do than work at the BOE and help stupid foreigners find used cars.

That's exactly what he did today, though, and I'm grateful for it. I'd been searching for a car for a while, and I'd all but given up hope. You see, for me shopping for cars in Japan is like shopping for shoes in Japan; absolutely everything is too small. Luckily, Bunai had a friend at the place we went to today who had been on the lookout for a car big enough to fit me, and sure enough, this one was perfect. Not only was it big enough for me on the inside, it was small enough on the outside that driving it didn't feel like piloting the Titanic. After test-driving it around the parking lot a bit, we went back inside and the salesman showed us the price sheet.

"It's going to be 378,000 yen," he said.

Bunai looked down at the price sheet and then up again, frowning a bit. "Don't you mean that it's 280,000 yen?" he asked, the hard glint in his eyes suggesting that he already knew the answer.

The man smiled back at him nervously and replied, "Yes, 280,000 yen is very good."


I'll bet it is.

My Day Off

Today was some kind of holiday and, as such, was pretty slow. I spent the first half of the day sitting around in my apartment, finally deciding sometime around one o’ clock that I probably ought to go out and get some things done. Lunch, for instance, sounded like a good idea. Strangely enough, since I’ve gotten to Japan, I’ve eaten most of my meals at a Chinese restaurant. Osaka Osho shouldn’t be confused with your average American Chinese restaurant, however. No sir, you’ll not find beef & broccoli, teriyaki chicken, or duck sauce there. Neither General Tsao nor his delectable chicken has found a home at the Osho.

Instead, the menu is filled with what I assume must be far more authentic Chinese cuisine; as authentic as Chinese food from a chain of Japanese restaurants can be, anyway. I like to think that someday I’ll travel to China and experience its foods in their purest form. Upon arriving, I would not be all that surprised to find that they eat Grilled Stuft Burritos™ almost exclusively. In any case, I ordered my usual torinegi (chicken and onion) ramen (ramen) and a small plate of gyouza (psh, I don’t know). It’s a filling meal and a great value, you know, just in case you’re ever in Masuda.

After that, I decided to get a haircut, which I never did because all of the barbershops were closed today. I guess barbershops have enough in common with schools that they take the same holidays. My last resort was a barbershop that I always pass on the way to the grocery store. I knew it was a barbershop because there’s a man on the sign holding a pair of scissors. I love this sign, not because of the scissors, but because the man holding them is sporting a wicked awesome afro. It’s a shame that apparently no one in Masuda ever actually asks for that hairstyle. I think it would make walking around town a lot more interesting if they did.

For dinner, Jacob and I went to a new sushi place that just opened up outside the station. I personally don’t care all that much for sushi; in fact, I find it nearly inedible without the liberal application of soy sauce. However, Jacob had told me that this sushi place was pretty incredible, and I was willing to try it at least once. Apparently, some sushi places actually put the food on conveyor belts that pass directly in front of the customers, who can then pick up whatever looks good as it passes them. This presented a problem for me because nothing looked good to me; even those things that looked edible didn’t necessarily look appetizing. I ended up just ordering most of my food like a normal person, although I did pick up some soy beans and a piece of chocolate cake off of the conveyor belt. These were probably the most delicious things I ate this evening.

Jacob tells me it’s his goal to get me to like sushi by the time I leave this place. It seems like a strange goal to me; like trying to convince someone that getting stung by bees is fun, or that sticking their face into boiling water is an invigorating experience. I doubt he’ll succeed, and I’ve said as much, but I suppose I’ve changed my mind before. And if I can bring myself to drink disgusting Japanese tea and Pocari Sweat, who knows what horrors I can stomach? Already, I can feel my taste buds spiraling slowly into madness.

YATTA!

For those of you who don’t understand that crazy Japan talk, yatta is their way of saying “I did it!” I feel this word is pretty appropriately placed here since I did in fact make it to Japan in one piece. If you’re wondering where I’ve been for the past month-and-a-half, I’ve been scraping out a living on the hard streets of Masuda, a bustling metropolis of approximately 50, 000 people. This place is so fast-paced and futuristic, it only took me a month-and-a-half to get internet access!

The primary problem with not having internet access for so long (beyond the obvious ones; the first time I got on and checked my e-mail, I had well over 200 items to look through) is that events progress without your being able to share your experiences immediately. I now have a month’s worth of such events that I somehow have to cram into a single, epic blog post. The dominant portion of my personality (the slothful portion) quails at this prospect, and since I woke up this morning, intent on writing this post, I have spent most of the day doing any other thing I could possibly think of instead.

The part I fear most is trying to organize my memories of the past month in a way that makes any kind of sense. You’ve got to understand, a lot of what’s happened didn’t really make any sense to begin with, so to impose any kind of rationality on these events now, after they’ve been glossed over and scrambled in my head, is a daunting proposition. The only method I can think of that makes any sense to me at this point is to begin chronologically with my arrival in Japan, and then just ramble on from there until I feel I’ve finished. I’m not sure how long this will take, so you may want to get a snack or something.

I arrived in Tokyo sometime near the end of July. I’m not sure exactly what the date was, but it was something like the 29^th or 30^th (this is that scrambling I was talking about). We’d been in the air for about 12 hours since we’d left Detroit, and in that period of time I was served two meals, watched two movies, and stood up to stretch my legs more times than I can count. A lot of the other JETs slept during the flight. I myself found this impossible, as the only position comfortable enough to allow it required me to move my legs every few minutes so the flight attendants could get by me. Sitting next to me was a friendly, if somewhat quiet JET. Sitting next to him was an irate, balding vegan. He looked like he might either be homeless or a professor at some prestigious university. Since he was able to afford a plane ticket to Japan, I’m assuming the latter. I was tempted to ask him the difference between vegans and vegetarians since I could never get that sorted out, but decided that I really didn’t want to talk to him if I could avoid it.

After the flight, we were all herded onto buses which took us directly to the Keio Plaza Hotel, our residence for the duration of orientation. It was a pretty nice hotel, notable mostly because of its futuristic, Japanese robo-toilets. If I ever see another one, I’ll be sure to get a picture of it. Not long after arriving and checking in, a group from the Houston pre-orientation went to dinner at the local pizzeria. Oddly enough, my first sampling of authentic Japanese cuisine wasn’t nearly as shocking as I thought it might be. Afterward, I called home, then promptly returned to my room and crashed on my bed. I don’t even remember if I changed into my pajamas that night.

To be quite honest, I don’t remember most of that orientation. The great majority of it was taken up by speeches by old Japanese men who were heads of this and that ministry. I remember one of them being a pretty engaging speaker, but for the life of me I can’t remember a single thing he said. Something about the JET program, maybe? Your guess is as good as mine.

Sadly, I didn’t get to see nearly as much of Tokyo as I would have liked. Every day was pretty much filled with orientation classes and activities that I’ve since forgotten. Every time I think back to the orientation, it makes me a little sad to think that my time there could have been much better spent just walking around town. Nevertheless, what I did see of Tokyo certainly motivated me to return someday. Walking through Tokyo was a lot like walking through a strange, Japanese Disneyland, one made stranger by the fact that the Japanese Disneyland is in Tokyo. Every store front called to me with promises of bizarre and magical delights. Delights which I hadn’t the time for then, no; but someday. Someday.

The day after orientation, the group headed for Shimane prefecture left at seven in the morning, went to the airport, and hopped on a plane headed for Izumo. At least I think it was Izumo. It’s not really important. What is important is that when I stepped off the plane, I met my supervisor and fellow Masuda ALTs for the first time, and that’s where the story really begins. Let me introduce you to the main characters, going from left to right:

James Bell: James Bell is the oldest ALT remaining in Masuda, recontracting now for his third year. He was one of the two people waiting for us at the airport the day we arrived in Shimane. He’s a man who’s been everywhere and seen everything, which makes him immensely useful to have around. Famous in local circles for his karaoke rendition of “One Night Carnival,” James is a pretty cool guy. Even if he is British.

Me: If you don’t know who this person is, you’re probably in the wrong place.

Paul Glaum: Hailing from Wisconsin, Paul is a really decent person, and also my arch-nemesis. Paul’s incurably bad taste in all things has left him with a love of such terrible phenomena as ultimate frisbee, Irish rock, the UFC, and long hippie hairdos. His obviously impaired mental state would almost be enough to make me feel sorry for him, if it weren’t for his ability to play bass and his undeniable status as a chick magnet. I’ve hypothesized that the source of these powers lies within his hat, which he never takes off. Many a night have I sat awake, plotting to steal this potent item.

Ryan Cloyd: Ryan is from either from California, Kansas, or Colorado. When asked, I think he usually responds with Colorado, but he has related to us tales that have taken place in all three of these states. Wherever he used to live, he has now been relegated to the farthest reaches of Mito, which is, itself, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Last month, when we all went to work at the Board of Education building and saw each other every day, he would come into work and regale us with wondrous stories of life in Mito; people he’d met, festivals he’d attended, and all manner of deadly beasties that he had narrowly avoided. Someday I expect Ryan will be found dead in his apartment, his body the center of a sumptuous feast attended by snakes, spiders, and boars.

(Not pictured)

Ago: Ago-san is the man behind the camera in this photograph, and is also our supervisor. Ago’s past is shrouded in mystery. James tells me he used to work as an airport security guard, but that’s kind of hard for me to picture. However it happened, the path from airport security guard to ALT babysitter in Masuda must have been a long and winding one indeed. I don’t really get to talk to Ago a whole lot, since any conversation between us is mostly a series of sad and desperate attempts by each of us to understand anything the other is saying. Since I’ve been here, though, Ago’s been super helpful, and is a really nice dude.

Miwa: Also not seen here is Miwa-san, the Board of Education’s driver. I’m not actually sure what he does with most of his time, since there’s not really a lot of driving to be done at the BOE, but when someone does need to get somewhere, Miwa is always ready. He’s a master of his art as well, which is fortunate because Japanese roads oftentimes follow no discernible logic in their construction. I have seen this man navigate roads that would make lesser drivers faint.

Now that introductions are more or les-oh, wait! There’s one more.

Jacob Heller: A week after Paul, Ryan and myself arrived in Masuda, this unsavory-looking character showed up on the doorstep of the BOE. Jacob is from Texas, or so I surmised from the enormous cowboy hat and spurs he was wearing the day I met him. I don’t really remember that first conversation, only that there were a lot of howdys and y’alls in the mix. Well, maybe that last part isn’t true. In fact, neither is the thing about the hat and spurs, but he is from Texas. He actually lives in the apartment directly beneath me now, and his superior grasp of the Japanese language means that he has the unenviable task of reading my mail for me. Jake is also an amateur photographer, but only in the sense that he doesn’t get paid for the pictures he takes. If you have the time, you really ought to take a look at his Flickr page here. He’s got a lot of great pictures of Masuda.

Okay, that should be everyone for now. If anyone else important pops into my head I’ll go back and add them later. You’ll never even notice. On to Masuda itself.

Masuda is, as mentioned earlier, a town of about 50,000 people, but that count includes a lot of smaller towns—such as Mito—in the surrounding area that were recently incorporated into the city for whatever reason. Masuda, therefore, is pretty small, but not so small that it lacks modern conveniences. There are a few major shopping areas in town, as well as a movie theatre and several pachinko parlors and karaoke joints.

Town is divided into three separate sections by the Masuda and Takatsu rivers. To the east of Masuda river lies the Saty, a big building that serves primarily as a grocery store, but also sells clothing and has a couple of eateries. This area is also home to a hardware store, shoe store, and Book Center Just. I’m not entirely sure what is especially just about this book center; I’ve thought about asking, but I really don't know enough Japanese to ask such a question intelligibly. It’s nice enough, though, essentially just a big store where you can buy or rent movies, music, books, and games. There is also a Book Market on this side of the Masuda River, closer to my apartment, actually, but this store is presumably not quite as just.

Between the two rivers is the center of town, the part where all the magic happens. Both city hall and the BOE are located there. This is also where you’ll find the train and bus station, as well as Masuda’s finest karaoke establishments. Along the main road through town, there are a number of different stores and restaurants, including a great ramen place and a McDonalds.

On the far side of the Takatsu is the big commercial district, which features such fine retailers as YouMe Town and Juntendo. I don’t go over there very often, because it’s a long and taxing journey, even by bike, but YouMe Town is pretty nice, and that part of town also has the DoCoMo store where I got my phone. I’m sure there’s other stuff over there worth looking into should I ever feel up to the task of getting there again.

The two rivers themselves are beautiful, the Takatsu being about twice as large as Masuda River. In summer, parts of the rivers become major recreational areas, with families often going down to the banks to swim. I see a lot of fishermen in the rivers from day to day as well, holding poles roughly the length of a city bus, waiting for the big one, or perhaps any one. These men look very intent, so fishing may in fact be how they make their living.

The rivers also play host to a wide variety of creatures. Large, colorful fish swim close to the surface while, just downstream, large groups of water birds sit waiting for a meal. Groups of turtles sit sunning themselves on the banks of the river or on the small, overgrown islands that have formed in its center. There are more familiar creatures here as well, but even these come in their own peculiar Masuda flavor. For instance, the crows here are so large that a single one could easily win a fight against a Kodiak bear. Spiders also seem more plentiful here, several doorways and awnings around town being adorned with their large, ornate webs.

The residential areas here are filled with buildings done in what I assume to be the style of traditional Japanese architecture, and what space isn’t taken up by buildings and roads is often covered in rice fields. The rice grows high and even, a brilliant, beautiful shade of green. As the growing season passes, the rice gets large and heavy, pulling the stalks down with its weight. By harvest time, the rice stalks look bent, stooped over like the people who have spent their lives harvesting it. The rice was harvested here just last week, and I’m already missing it. Those fields seem incredibly empty now.

So that’s Masuda in a nutshell. A nutshell of terrible proportions, perhaps, but a nutshell nonetheless. What have I been doing for the past month-and-a-half in this crazy Japanese playground? Let me tell you.

Luckily, my first month of work in Masuda was pretty uneventful. Every morning I hauled myself out of bed and over to the BOE where I would spend the day shooting the breeze with the other ALTs and filling out the occasional form. I’m not entirely sure what most of these forms were; wasn’t sure then, either, but it was Ago having me fill them out, and I’m pretty certain he has my best interests at heart. The most significant happenings took place outside the workplace, primarily in the form of festivals.

The first such festival was Masuda’s summer festival, which took place on the banks of the Takatsu one evening my first weekend here. This festival consisted of a small area where several foods and beverages were available, and not much to do beyond that. The people there hadn’t come to do anything, however; they had come to watch something. Festivities kicked off with a fireworks show that was—no joke—at least half-an-hour long. About halfway through this show, three small riverboats decked out in paper lanterns started making circles in the river. These boats were propelled by teams of men who rowed vigorously, spurred on by a man whose only function seemed to be chanting. This went on for a good while longer, until eventually the fireworks simply stopped. Apparently the Japanese don’t believe in big grand finales, preferring instead to just distribute incredible bursts throughout the show. What was especially neat about this show was that they were able to shoot the fireworks onto the surface of the river, the explosions melting into their reflections as they expanded outward. It’s the first time I can remember seeing something like that in a fireworks show, and it was a blast to watch.

After the show ended and the boats came back to the shore, the festival began to slowly break up. The shops remained open for a little while longer, and I got something to eat and drink while I stood around talking to the other ALTs who were also there. It was around this time that I met one of my future students for the first time. Brandon, one of the old ALTs who hadn’t yet left Masuda, walked over to me and said, “Hey, I think this is one of your students over here,” and led me over to a group of girls in yukata (that’s a traditional style of Japanese robe; lots of girls wear them to special festivals and the like). Apparently, most of the girls were students from his school, but one was from Masuda-Higashi Junior High, to which I had been assigned.

I introduced myself to her using the little English I was sure she would know.

“Hello. I’m Blake. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, and that was the extent of our English conversation. We spoke a bit more in Japanese, me understanding about half of everything she said, and then she turned to Brandon and asked something, then turned back and said, pointing at herself, “Remember me!”

I nodded sagely and said, “Wasurenai,” which, if I’m correct, means ‘I won’t forget’. Not long after that, the last few people packed up and headed out. I decided to follow their example.

The next weekend was Tsuwano’s summer festival, a much larger affair, but with a less satisfying fireworks display. Tsuwano’s summer festival took place over the course of the entire day, and the central focus was a stage on the right side of the festival grounds. Several groups passed through the stage performing whatever they were here to perform. That day I saw a variety of dance groups, a couple of kagura performances, and taiko drumming. The aforementioned Brandon was actually a member of the taiko group that was performing that day, which is how I knew about the festival in the first place.

The taiko group was pretty excellent, and I got several pretty good pictures of them that you’ll see as soon as I can find a decent place to host all of my photos. I was disappointed as I watched them, though, to think that there was no way I could really share the experience with folks back home. It was about then that I remembered that my camera has a video function. It’s not quite like being there, especially since I was kind of far away from the stage, and the video had to be compressed for youtube, but here it is.

Immediately after the taiko performance, the firework show began. Once it wrapped up, the festival started to wind down. I took the opportunity to get some more of the excellent food I had already sampled earlier that day. There was one stand in particular that had great grilled corn on the cob. Not only that, but everything was half off by then because the festival was almost over and they wanted to get rid of it. I’m also pretty sure I got an extra discount for being a foreigner. Overall, not a bad day.

The next big event in Masuda was a three-day holiday called Obon. I got three days off of work for that one. From what I was told, Obon is some kind of holiday celebrating the dead, like the Japanese take on Dia de los Muertos, maybe. Town was pretty quiet those three days, and I didn’t really see much in the way of celebration. The second evening, however, I opened my front door and heard music off in the distance. Not having anything better to do, I followed the music to its source, a big kagura performance that was being held at the Grand Toit, Masuda’s big museum and culture center. If you’re wondering exactly what kagura is, never fear! I have anticipated your question, gentle reader, and offer you this in response.

If you’re still wondering what kagura is, I can’t really help you. You know about as much as I do now.

The weekend after Obon, I travelled out to Mito to hang out with Ryan a bit. His house is enormous, comparatively speaking, and he has a Wii, so it was good times. Most importantly, though, it was while out in Mito that I met Yacchan and his kin. Ryan and I had just been out to the Popura to get snacks, and were returning to his house when a man in a van pulled up next to us and started talking to Ryan. I understood relatively little of what they were saying, but once they were done talking and the man drove away, Ryan informed me that I was invited to a cookout if I wanted to come. Apparently, Ryan had met the man during Obon, and had himself been invited then. I was invited by virtue of being around when he drove by.

Later that evening, Yacchan came by in his van, picked us up, and took us to his place. There, we met his wife and two children, and a man he referred to as Hi-san. I still have no clue what this man’s full name is. Later his family came by too, and we all had a big ol’ time. We sat, ate, and talked about everything from baseball to American geography. Yacchan, being something of a scholar in the matter, was quite certain that the Rockies were in the middle of the country, and that California was on the west coast. He nodded intently as we explained the location of Oklahoma and Colorado.

The best part of the evening was probably when I managed to avoid eating grilled octopus, but being invited to the next weekend’s Yotsuyama festival came in a close second. This was a really small festival put on by a few families in Mito; it was almost more of a shindig, really. It took place on top of a mountain that I assume is called Yotsuyama (yama is Japanese for mountain), and Ryan and I actually helped set up for it the day before. Getting to the top of the mountain was an arduous process, a long trek up a winding staircase that’s been cut into the soil of the mountain. Add to that the fact that we were carrying large, festival-related items with us, and it was that much more difficult.

It was worth it, though. The next morning, we hiked back up the mountain and collapsed at the top. Immediately, someone handed us a bowl of hot soup, which was exactly the last thing we wanted right about then. Once we had our breath back, it was a lot of fun. There were a few small performances, and several games that everyone played. Ryan, Jacob and I got pulled into most of the games as well, playing darts, and some crazy game where you pass rubber bands in a circle using Pocky sticks. Ryan also played an awesome game where you stand and yell at a decibel meter. Ryan’s yell was pretty weak, and he got beaten out by an old man who nearly lost his dentures (be sure to check that picture out on Jacob’s flickr page).

Now we come to it. Not much else happened between the Yotsuyama festival and the official start of classes. Granted, I personally didn’t do much after classes started either, because all of my students were preparing for undokai, or sports day. For the first couple weeks or so of school, I just kind of wandered around, watching them practice, and only recently have I been called upon to do anything resembling teaching. Let me relate to you my experiences at each of the three schools separately, so it’ll be easier for my currently sleep-deprived mind to keep them straight.

First off, there’s Masago Junior High. Masago is a bustling center of educational activity, with a total of seven students; one seventh grader, two eighth graders, and four ninth graders. There’s honestly not much for me to say about Masago, because I haven’t’ been there long. I only go there once a week, and their sports festival took place later than the others, just this past weekend. The students are all really nice, and get along great. The English teacher there is really friendly as well, and she actually speaks pretty good English, which is not the case with all teachers.

The most memorable thing that’s happened at Masago is probably the sports day, which involved not only the Junior High students, but local elementary students and people from the community as well. I myself took part in several events, winning prizes in most of them. I still have no idea what most of these prizes are. I got a lot of pictures from that sports day (in fact, it’s the only sports day I got any pictures from), but when I say a lot, I really mean it, so I think I’ll wait until I get them all online before I show them to you. You may rest assured, however, that a great time was had by all. Also fun was the after-party at which I got roped into singing “Country Roads” in karaoke with my vice-principal. You wanna talk about surreal? How about singing a song about your home state with your Japanese superior, who knows the song better than you do? Yeah.

Masuda Higashi Junior High School is the biggest of the three schools I visit, coming in at somewhere over 200 students. It’s also the school I’ve spent the most time at, since I go there three times a week. My first week there was pretty similar to my first week everywhere else. What made Higashi special is that I got a sunburn there.

Not just any old sunburn, either. I got this sunburn on the calves of my legs, and it stayed there for about a week. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced such a thing, but if you haven’t let me tell you this: never get a sunburn on your legs. It will dramatically lower your quality of life. Every step you take hurts, like being stabbed repeatedly. Standing up and sitting down aren’t much better. Even sleeping was nearly impossible in this state. In spite of this, being the trooper that I am, I pushed through the pain, and participated not only in Higashi’s three-legged race, but also Hikimi’s staff relay. More on that later.

During preparations for sports day, I spent a lot of time walking around watching the students, and talking to a bunch of them as well. One day, as they were taking a break from practicing some race in the gym, a girl walked up to me and started talking. I didn’t understand most of what she was saying and so I asked her to slow down, which didn’t really help much. After a moment I just told her that I couldn’t understand, and I was sorry, but that it was nice to meet her. She looked puzzled and then walked away.

Later that day I realized that she had kept saying ’matsuri’, which is Japanese for festival. After that, it was just a few more seconds before everything clicked into place and I remembered; it was the girl I had met at the festival. The one I had promised I wouldn’t forget. I had completely forgotten.

Higashi’s sports day was a lot of fun, but completely different from Masago’s. There weren’t really any events for me to participate in except for the three-legged race, where my enormous American shoes made it hard to get the loop on, and robbed us of victory. I did, however, get to fire the starting gun for two different events the first was called something I don’t quite remember, but the translation was something like “Japanese War.” It was a game for just the boys, and involved teams dividing into groups of four. Once these groups were formed, three of the boys would serve as a platform upon which the fourth boy, who was wearing a hat, would rest. Once all of the groups were ready and lined up across from one another, I would fire the starting gun, and from there they sprang into action. Each group was set with the task of pulling hats off of the opposing teams’ heads while keeping their own on their head. After a minute had passed, the number of hats left on each side were counted and the winner announced.

The other event I shot the gun for was written in katakana as uuman paawa. Spelled in correct English, it would say “Woman Power.” In this game, teams of girls lined up on either side of the field across from each other. In the center of the field lay several tires, some small, others the size of large truck tires. Once I fired the gun, the girls ran out, grabbed the tires, and tried to pull them back over to their side. Some of the tires went easily, uncontested. Others became the focal point of epic struggles, the kinds of battles songs and poems are written about, great throngs of Japanese girls all fighting for tire supremacy. Again, after a minute had passed, tires were tallied and the winning team given its due. There were other games at the sports day, but I may write about them later. As the night—and this post—wear on, I’m becoming less inclined to include details. In fact, I think I’m going to bed.

…

And we’re back. Let me take a second to see where I left off. Ah, right; the games. So there was another game where the kids raced one another across the field by walking on the backs of their comrades, and another where the goal was to pull down an enormous bamboo pole that was being held up by a group of your opponents. This was most often accomplished by jumping on to the pole and then shimmying all the way to the top, where you could use your weight to pull it to one side or the other more easily. The best teams would actually use two members as stairs that a third member would use to leap over members of the opposition. Needless to say, it was pretty crazy to watch.

The other big events were the relay race, which worked like any normal relay race does, and the ouen, or cheer. In the ouen, entire teams would run out onto the field in crazy costumes and perform some ridiculous dance routine while their musical selections blared out over the speaker. This was one of the stranger moments of the day. It’s just odd to see Japanese children dancing, their parents and teachers clapping along as Avril Lavigne yells obscenities.

Since the sports festival, I’ve helped teach several classes at Higashi. There are three different teachers there, each in charge of a different grade level. Two of them, Maeda-sensei and Miura-sensei, speak pretty good English, especially Miura-sensei, who just returned from a month of studying in England. The third, Hada-sensei, has a tenuous grasp of the English language, which can make for frustrating moments when trying to talk to her. I typically try not to ask her questions if I can avoid it. My first several classes involved me introducing myself to the students in English. I made up large poster board maps of the USA, my home state, and Oklahoma. I talked about my home, my school, my hobbies; anything I could think of that might be of interest. The best parts of the presentation were usually when they learned that I have a brother their age, and that I had just finished reading the last Harry Potter, which has yet to be released. The worst was probably when I tried to explain to them the majesty of Oklahoma University’s football team and they thought I was talking about rugby.

Since then, classes have been pretty standard affairs, I most often acting as a kind of human tape recorder, repeating vocabulary words and example sentences several times for the students. This can get a little tedious, but it’s usually fun to hear the students repeat the sentences, trying to copy not just my pronunciation, but my intonation. Bingo is a popular game in most classes, the students writing down vocabulary words on their bingo sheets, and then me calling out whichever words I feel like.

Last but not least, there’s Hikimi Junior High. Hikimi is small, although not as small as Masago. Forty total students attend Hikimi, and James assures me they are the spawn of Lucifer himself, although I have trouble believing him. Hikimi’s sports day was pretty similar to Higashi’s only smaller. Most of the events were the same, but I especially liked one of the cheers. In this cheer, all of the students ran out onto the field and started dancing to the music, which was cut off almost immediately after starting. They all stood around looking confused, and then a group of students in black ran out onto the field and started yelling at them. After about a minute of this, battle music started playing, and yet another student ran out onto the field dressed as the Masked Rider, a popular kids’ television character in Japan. A battle ensued between the Masked Rider and the students in black as the other students danced around them in a circle. There was more to the cheer after this, but I don’t really remember it.

I’ve taught two classes at Hikimi thus far, although taught is an especially generous word for what I’ve been doing. The first class, I actually was left in charge of myself because the English teacher had to go to some training thing. During this class, I sat and watched three students look up information about New Zealand in the computer lab. Then, we went downstairs into the staff room where the students talked to the vice-principal for a couple minutes. After this serious discussion, the vice-principal turned to me and said enthusiastically, “Let’s table tennis!”

I stared at him blankly for a moment.

“Huh?”

“Table tennis.” He made a swatting motion with his hand.

“Uhh….” And then I was dragged into a room up above the gym where I played ping pong with my students for the rest of the period. It’s probably my favorite class I’ve taught so far.

The other class I’ve taught started with my self-introduction, the same one I’d done several times already at Higashi. This one was made special, though, by a fun surprise from Nakada-sensei, the English teacher. As a special addition to the little getting to know me portion of the class, she thought it would be fun to bring in some of the most vile foods (foods! hah!) Japan has to offer and let me try them in front of the class. It was also great English practice for the class. The way it worked is that they would ask me, “Do you like __________?” Then I would try whatever food they asked me about, and respond with my feelings on whatever I had just shoved into my mouth. Oftentimes, they didn’t even need me to say anything. They probably thought I was just joking around, but I seriously almost threw up in front of my students fully four times that day. It’s probably the meanest thing anyone’s ever done to me.

This concludes our short post for today. Word tells me that it’s twelve pages long, and for that I am truly and deeply sorry. I promise I shall never inflict such a terrible post upon you again, should you ever feel the need to come back someday. Let me take just a few more moments to do some housekeeping, though. Like I said, I have a lot more pictures than what you’ve seen here in this post, and I’ll be trying to get them loaded up somewhere you can see them as soon as I can. As for posts, I’ll be trying to post at least a little something every day from here on out and maybe post some kind of video content on weekends, if I have anything. Someday I may even take you on a tour of my apartment, but today is not that day. If you want to contact me, you can leave comments at the end of my post, or e-mail me at jbdmasuda@gmail.com.