Even My Socks Smell like Yakiniku

Good Evening All,

I went to a bachelor party last weekend, yeah, someone in my study abroad programme is tying the knot next week, he even has a kanji test the very next day, crazy fool. Really though, this was sort of an eye opener for me. I'm not saying this young man's incipient marriage prompted me to start flipping through phone books in a desperate search for a charming Japanese wife, but it provoked me to think that people lives all around the world progress at wildly different paces. I am really happy for this guy though, although the events of the bachelor party did not correlate with the ideal image of a young, loving, responsible husband that I hope all Japanese girls look for in men, foreign and the like. The night concluded with our large group of gentlemen gathering at the shore of the Kamo River, in the heart of Kyoto, to send of the bachelor's spirit. The ceremony consisted of the bachelor, scaling the bank west bank of the river and releasing a small plastic phallus, symbolizing the freedom of this poor young man, down the gentle current of the Kamo River. Touching, really.


Me and the Groom


The Freedom Ceremony

The rest of the weekend was pretty exciting due to the two-day-long Ritsumeikan Festival (gakuensai). This annual festival consists of any and all willing circles (extracurricular activity clubs) to set up booths in order to raise money, have fun, make food for the people etc. There's really nothing like walking around a crowded campus confident that you are the tallest man within a half mile radius, not to say that I don't take joy out of looking at the tops of people heads (the Japanese have very healthy scalps from the looks of it, not to generalize or anything). The food was amazing-ramen, udon, sweet bean soup, donuts, takoyaki, hotdogs, korokke katsu-and I even got to showcase my Japanese freestyling ability yet again, this time instead of being in a smokey club, I was outside and in front of a much larger audience, tons of fun, really. The next day I returned to the festival to pay homeage to the Study in Kyoto Programme Buddy stand. It was cold outside, but nothing can come in between me and lukewarm cream puffs covered in honey. I ended up freezing my hands off giving our free hugs to introverted passers by, mostly tiny Japanese girls, hilarious really.


Me and Azusa, my best friend ever!

"My Socks Smell like Yakiniku" What's the meaning behind this? Good question. Yakiniku is Japanese for . . . essentially it is Korean Barbeque. The stuff is amazing. My friend Dan from Toronto, So Seung from Korea, and Kuri from Tokyo had made a plan a month in advance to go out for Yakiniku and last night it all went down, without a hitch I might add. The 45 minute bike ride had us all drooling as we entered the small restaurant. NOTE: Yakiniku restaurants are known for their poor, and sometimes complete lack of, ventaliation. Our original party of three had exploded to three French people, a Canadian, a Canadian, a Korean, a half-German-Japanese, a pure Japanese man, and one solitary American; this proved to be the best explosion ever. First came the tounge, then the steak sashimi, followed by copious amounts of amazing beef and Yebisu beer, some of Japan's best. The resident Korean was the man of the hour, manning both of the grills, keeping everyones bowl full of meat and glasses full of beer, and encouraging what the Koreans call "oneshot" or what my mother calls "doing something stupid" (don't worry Ma, here I sit writing in good health).

Shout out to the Parker Family, Wayne, Helene, Danny and Micah, my second family, enough said.

Happy Thanksgiving?

Culture Overload . . . in a good way

Good Evening All,

This past week started with an eye-opening walk through "The Exhibition of Paul Binnie: Continuing the Japanese Tradition-Woodblock Prints from a Western Perspective". Since the show was on campus I was able to see it during one of my long breaks between classes. This allowed me to liesurely roam around the exhibition, read all the captions of the prints, flip through Binnie's book that chronicled his life in Japan and elsewhere, and really appreciate the rarity of what was presented before me. I suggest any and all to browse Binnie's website and take a look at his work, which ranges from oil paintings of lanscapes to Japnese style woodblock prints of the most infamous Kabuki superstars: http://www.paulbinnie.co.uk/.


Nakamura Ganjiro in Sonezakishinju

The day I saw the Paul Binnie was the same day of my Japanese Research class' field trip to a paper making store in the heart of Kyoto. The set up of of the paper making process was such that only one person could make paper at a time, so there was a lot of waiting involved-I chose to meander around the storefront stalked with some amazing paper light fixtures. The process of paper making is quite simple: mix water, paper fibers, and unidentified gooey stuff in a large bucket; firmly grasp wooden frame with fine copper mesh and submerge the frame in the fiber mixutre; raise the frame out of the water and proceed to tilt the frame back and forth and side-to-side allowing excess water to fall through the fine copper mesh; bring the frame with a layer of condensed fiber and drag it over a high power vacuum (this is obviously the coolest step); once most of the excess is water is sucked from the moist fiber, bring the frame over to the dying table and apply the desired colours to the thin layer of still damp fiber-add more dye than you think you need; after repeating the vacuum step to remove the excess dye, flip your frame around and give one of the top corners a hearty blow, like the big bad wolf (this is the second coolest step); peel the sheet of fiber from the copper mesh very slowly; after fully removing the fiber sheet from the frame, apply, with a dry brush, the sheet to a heated steel panel; wait roughly 5-8 minutes to dry; and enjoy the fruits of traditional Japanese labour.


The Store Front

This past friday was actually one of the funnest nights in Japan thus far. On the week of Halloween the Study in Kyoto Programme (SKP) Buddies (students from Ritsumeikan who help out exchanged students at school) threw a little party for the foreign students. I dressed up as one of the resident tree trimmers on the Ritsumeikan campus, fully equipped with Tabi (or ninja shoes shoes to most foreigners), baggy cargo pants, and white gloves. Half way through the party I noticed a swath of people pulsating around the boombox; this was no unfamiliar site to me, this was a rap session. I dashed over to the circle and sure enough there was rappin' a'happnin', mind you most of it was in Japanese. I contributed as much as I could in Japnese and continued in English until the circle broke. At that point I was approached by a stalky, poofy haired, young, Japanese man named Natsuki.
"Call me Natsu, have a ticket to my concert this weekend, I'm DJing, I'm so glad you like Hip-Hop."
So on friday I headed to Jigen-ya, a tiny venue, with tinier drinks, and a non existant policy for not smoking in doors. Once the first act, a fairly impressive Red Hot Chilli Peppers (レッチリ, in Japanese) coverband, closed their set a semi-Reggae/Hip-Hop MC assumed his position on stage behind the mic-stand. A few songs into to his set a number of random audience members, who later had sets in the show, were shoved on stage and added lyrics to a few courses of old, remixed reggae records. Without warning I, too, was thrust up on to the stage, a warm mic shoved into my hand. I did what I had to . . .
"皆さん、英語でいいですか。わたしはアッシャー、シアトルから来ました。” (Minasan, eigode iidesuka? Watashiwa Ashya, Shiatoru kara kimashita."
The first two lines of my freestyle were in Japanese, the rhymed and the crowd went wild. I continued in English with continuous positives vibes from the crowd of around 30 Japanese youth. Call it my debut, MC Takai Gaijin (Tall Foreigner).


Rapping at Jigen-ya

A genuine shout out to my Kathy and David, my Aunt and Uncle in Phoenix, Arizona. Love you guys, miss you more. Additionally, I am overjoyed to here of Kathy's persistent health.

Until Next Time.

Kobe Beef: It's what you want for dinner

Good Evening Everyone.

This weekend a fellow house mate of mine, Mariko, invited me to go see her aunt's art exhibition in Kobe. I was down for what ever, so I graciously accpeted her offer. We woke up late on saturday and took the Hankyu Line down to Osaka, transfered at Katsura, and finally got off at Shinomiya Station in Kobe. All together the trip took roughly an hour and a half and only cost 600 yen (eachway). I am still getting used to living in a country with an extermely convenient, effecient, and affordable public transportation system. When we got off the train I saw a man in a dark purple suit standing next to a bright white chicken with one of those nasty flaps of skin on it's head . . . a rooster I guess; 'So this is Kobe', I thought to myself.



After winding through the unfamiliar streets of the city we finally found the venue in which Mariko's aunt's work was being shown. The space was very cool, but I felt that it would have been much better if it were at night and there was cheese and wine and things. However, it was 1300 and cheese is damn expensive in Japan. All of the paintings in the exhibition shared a common theme: women, fat women, partying hard, one way or another. There were fat women playing music, drinking (almost in every piece), laughing, flying and what ever else jolly females do when they get together on a crowded canvas. The whole time I was waking around the venue I couldn't help but think of my first art teacher, Karen. She would have loved this place, maybe the paintings, I couldn't say, but if she hadn't like the paintings she certainly would have enjoyed the ample books on ceramics they were displaying, I space out on those books for a while, let me tell you.



After a nice lunch in the city (which was definitely not Kobe beef, because it costs so much money I can't impress it upon you enough) we strolled around the streets looking at the older European houses that Kobe is known for. They are indeed beautiful, but paintfully out of context, which is the case for alot of architecture in Kobe. After the catastrophic earthquake that hit Kobe in 1995, the city underwent an intense period of rebuilding, literally from the ground up. I felt alot of sorrow walking through the smaller streets of Kobe, passing house after house thinking that I could have been anywhere in the world. I think my conciousness was weighed down by these familiar looking buildings because I had finally started to become accustom to a country widely recognized for its impressive and unique architecutre. However, the city is still beautiful and full of life amidst an increasing international presence. At one of the more famous German houses I saw a street artists showcasing some calligraphy. HIs finished product style yielded some oohs, and aaaawes, yet it was his unorthodox style of holding the brush and the way in which he used the brush tip that caught my eye.

After our leisurely jaunt we headed to the so-called China Town of Kobe. OH! on the way to China Town I stumbled across the Ohel Shelomo Synagogue, which is apparently, the headquarters for the Jewish Community of Kansai. I was really happy. Essentially, the China Town of Kobe was two or three squares blocks of street food and Chinese super markets, no residents or anything. I'm not saying that I was ungrateful, the street food was awesome and they even had a small plaza with statues of all the animals of the Chinese calender-in my other life I AM a rabbit.



We headed to the Port of Kobe after we had exhausted ourselves in China Town. Kobe tower was pretty . . . tall, ha-every major city in Japan has a tower, Kyoto Tower, Tokyo Tower and yes, Kobe too. We walked through the ridiculous mall with the biggest public cafeteria I had ever seen in my life. We rode the roller coaster at the end of the pier, I could barely fit into the damn thing, seriously, I almost felt fat, but I knew it was because my frame was too big for the roller coaster seats. Regardless, but not chest-gaurdless, the roller coaster was a much needed get away from the super grown up life I have been living lately . . . right? That was pretty much the conclusion of my trip to Kobe, the first of many I hope.



I finished a book two nights ago, Haruki Murakami's "Norwegian Wood". I loved the book, to the last page. It was easy to read and too hard to put down, so read it seriously, all of you. Murakami is a master of enthralling story lines, intricate character developent, imagery, emotion and the natural conglomeration of all of the above.

I made sushi tonight with the salmon I just got from my folks in the mail, THANK YOU MOM AND DAD. I am fat and happy right now, really, feeling great.

In light of my recent excursion in Kobe, I'd like to shout out to my first art teacher Karen Kosoglad. I still throw pots with her every year and I cherish that skill that she has helped me attain and even more the relationship that has grown that process.

Until next time all. Enjoy the photos.