It's New Years, Let's Clean . . .

Good Evening and a Happy New Year to All

A couple of days ago I had the pleasure of showing around a few good old friends from Seattle, the Pulkrabek brothers, Colin and Werdna. We started off by having a bite at the kaitenzushi spot and then walked through the covered shopping centre at Sanjo and Kawaramachi Dori (the centre of Kyoto). The clothing stores in Japan are ridiculous. Shinier boots, tighter shirts, phonier furs and even more unnecessary accessories than any other place in the world. The funniest article of clothing I saw resembled a pair of jeans, if you can even call it that. You know how sometimes when it gets a bit warm out and you'll tie the extra layer that your wearing around your waist, well waste no more time and by the all new, flannel-already-sown-on-the-back-of-your-pants jeans. It was priceless, besides the 5000 yen price tag that is. After the shopping spree we strolled on over to the ever popular A-Bar, which is constantly filled to brim with foreigners and Japanese alike. Being around sibilings, especially out partying was really nice, considering my sister and I always get down when we are out and about. The Pulkrabek brothers and I found ourselves singing and rapping in the middle of the bar over a few delicious Yebisu beers across from a few Koreans who seemed really interested in our session. Yeah that was a good night.

I feel good today. I finally started a term paper about the affects of right-wing Japanese history textbooks on current Japanese U.S. realtions, I received a lovely package from my folks (thanks guys), I got a message from my sister who is in the midst of what sounds like another amazing trip in the land of Israel, and I cleaned my room. I even scrubbed my desks, which were pretty much holding the record of what I had been eating for the past three and a half months. I am a brand new man.

The sun was setting behind the mountains of Arashiyama as I went for a last minute trip to the super market before tonights festivities. Gyoumu Supa (Gyoumu Super Market) was packed with old and young filling there baskets with mostly noodles, mochi (a glutonous rice paste in small cake form), natto (fermented beans), and mikan (also known and satsuma's to the wild west). I was picking up noodles and fermented beans as well-just imagine how well I blend in here. On this imortant night a few good friends from the dorm and Junko, from the latke making episode, are going to gather for a nabe (hot pot) party.

2007, washed down with some piping hot broth, tofu, cabbage, mushrooms, daikon raddish, and beer-just the way I pictured it.

So Happy New Year to All and I hope those who haven't taken a second to reflect on this past year-who you met, who you said goodbye to, where you went, where you returned to-do so and do so slowly with thought and purpose.

Shout out to Colin and Andrew Pulkrabek, a couple of close brothers, musicians, good friends, and the source of all that is PulkraPower.

Until 2008.

Even Shinto Decorate Their Houses . . .

Good Evening Everyone and a belated Merry Christmas

Last weekend I was graced with the presence of an old friend from the University of British Columbia, Noguchi Erina. Erina was on exchange from Osaka last year. This past Friday I met with Erina at one of those conveyor belt sushi restaurants (kaitenzushi) for dinner and a nice catch up session. It was at that moment that two thoughts came to mind. I love seared tuna and I am now able to carry on a moderately interesting conversation in Japanese for the duration of a sushi dinner, no matter how many mistakes I make or how many times I have to pull out my electronic dictionary.



This past week was pretty useless, in terms of classes and what not, considering the fact that before Christmas comes along, no one (goyim) feels like going to classes. I actually found myself being persuaded by one of my class mates not to go to class on Christmas, because she wanted to have the class cancelled in order to avoid missing any content that might be covered in class, ha. And yes you heard right, Ritsumeikan University, relentlessly conducts class on Christmas Day like it was just another day on the calender. Which makes me wonder about all the dumbfounded exchanged students who thought it ludacris to have class on the holiest of holies, for them at least. In the past few months I think I mentioned a lecture I attended on religion in Japan. During that lecture I was informed that less than one percent of the Japanese population identifies itself as Christian, hm. This seemed quite funny to me because just as in America, department stores, convenient stores, and houses were decorated with lights, trees, all sorts of Christmas paraphernalia. Small world, big market, I guess.



More importantly I would like to inform you all of yet another succesful gastronomic endeavour on the part of myself and my dormmates, even though nobody washes their fucking dishes-sorry Mom and Dad, I try to keep this blog as clean possible, but you know how it is to come home to a full sink. Last night we executed one of the most successful potluck dinners in Japanese history yet, which there have only been two, so were talking about a big success. I made kabocha soup: one kabocha (Japanese style pumpkin), one and a half cups milk, two chicken cullion cubes boiled in 2 cups water, one onion (medium size) sauteed in the secret ingredient 2 tbsp of butter, like the Barefoot Cantessa, right Mom? Anyway, my soup disappeared along with everyone's inhabitions, just like anyother Christmas party.

I'm on break now and all I need to do is remember how to write a paper in english without using an excessive amount of passive voice. gambarimasu (I'll do my best).

Christams, over and out.



Shout out to my brother, Jesus Javier Macedo, my lord and saviou. Miss you Jesus, I'll be in Vacnouver soon enough.

Until Next Time.

We're Going Multimedia

Salutations

Thanks to a good friend I have acquired the skills in order to post videos on my blog. I have been eagerly awaiting this moment, as much as anyone would look forward to an additional ten minutes of looking at a computer screen. Either way, enjoy the multimedia. By the way the links are at the bottom of the blog, just point and click, you know the drill.

My Japanese research had a Kyougen Theatre workshop today. Kyougen is similar to Noh theatre in that is very old, all movements in the performance are predetermined, transformative masks are used by characters, the pace of the show is very slow, and the care that goes into the vocal presentation of the play's content is one of the few aspects of Japanese culture that is still hereditarily aqcuired. Very interestingly, however predictable, the composure of characters (how wide their stance is) is directly correlated with their status. High status characters stand with a wide base, those with low status stand with their feet roughly shoudler width apart, and women stand with their touching (ie. no status?). Another, more noticable difference between Kyougen and Noh theatre is that the content of Noh theatre is often serious and dark, while Kyougen is more anecdotal. The most interesting aspect of the workshop was the way in which the old married couple of amature Kyougen-shi (Kyougen Actors) closed the session. They said that it is common for a Kyougen performance to come to conclusion with a loud laugh and sometimes even a sneeze. Achoo!

The Game of Death:


1000 watt Latkes:


喜/Yorokobi (Pleasure):This video has given me trouble ever since i tried to upload it to the YouTube site, so just copy the URL and paste it into the web address bar at the top of your screens.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YX414xmVbU

Shout out to my boy Zach who, on Friday, will be heading home to Seattle. Next time you fly to China Z, I'll be there with you.
Peace

Until Next Time.

It's Fun, It's Interesting, It's the Three Month Mark . . .

Good Evening Family, Friends, and fellow Readers

When the clock strikes 1200 tonight I will have officially and successfully spent three solid months in Kyoto, Japan. I was thinking about this today coming back from the super market just a second ago. As I looked momentarily at the waxing gibbous moon (Zach, you feel me?), it occurred to me that when one can refer to one's existence in a certain area in terms of moons that duration of time has become substantial-this is a little abstract, but stick with me. Take my boy Zach for instance. Since the warm month of May, he has been in China-roughly four moons in WeiFang in the ShanDong province and another four in Beijing-working for an English teaching company. This coming Friday Zach, now that nearly eight moons have waxed and waned, will be pack his bags and head home to good old Seattle. I myself have witnessed three such moons, but full they were.

On another note, one of my good friends Azusa just received some excellent news after an interview with the Japanese embassy. Azusa was offered a job at the Japanese embassy in New Delhi, India. As of now, I am not entirely sure of what specific responsibilities she will be holding, but we are all very excited for her. As a token of our appreciation we held a celebratory dinner at a restaurant near Ritsumeikan (my school). A majority of our party were fluent in Japanese, so the experience was sort of an extension of the day's previous Japanese lecture. I chimed in as much as I could and understood the flow of conversation with some ease. Yet, that particular dinner evoked an awareness of my goal, that is to be able to speak Japanese without thinking, to resurface. In the first chapter of my language textbook there was a series of standard questions regarding the way in which a student of Japanese (or any language for that matter) should go about studying. The most thought provoking suggestion was one that urged all students of a foreign language to study with purpose and intention. My specific intention being to, without thought, speak Japanese, express my character and opinion, and most of all connect with a wider range of people and cultures. That process has certainly started and I remain intent on solidifying the skills that will ensure my ability to reach out, be heard, find understanding, and in turn be understood. After dinner, we pooled our pocket change and went to a KONBINI (convenient store) and bought all the beer, crackers, and cookies that we possibly could.


The Crew

In a few words, Koreans know where it's at. Instead of beer pong, flip cup, and chugging contests, the Korean girls in my dorm bring party activities involving alcohol consumption (drinking games) to a new, more group oriented level, while at the same time keeping it safe and far from the often committed folly of what my Mom loves to refer to as "binge drinking". The name of the game is "The Game of Death" and I swear it involves a very low consumption of alcohol, especially since our shot glasses are minute compared to that of the US of A. First there is a song: "Shin nanda, chiemi nanda, za gemu ov deSU!" (Korean); "Tanoshii, omoshiroi, za gemu obu deSU!" (Japanese); "It fun, it's interesting, it's the game of DEATH!" (Engrish). On the word DEATH/DESU each participant point at any person sitting around the table; who ever has been deemed "IT" chooses a number; the number coincides with for how many people the finger point path will proceed. For example if my family were playing The Game of Death and I was it, said three and was pointing at my father, who was pointing at my mother, who was pointing at my sister, my sister-being the third person down the so-called finger pointing path-would have to take little itty bitty shot. Fun ensued.

Shout out to Uncle Jonathan and Marsh, for they are the first Uncles to join the Facebook network. Nice guys. Shavua Tov to all in the Eastern hemisphere and to those in the occident, Shabbat Shalom.

Until Next Time.

Happy Channukah to ALL from Kyoto, Japan.

Well I've done it. I successfully brought the traditional Ramras Latke recipe to a Japanese kitchen. The taste and presentation of my latkes were no where close to the caliber that my Grampa Gerogie or my Dad produce, but the atmosphere was certainly familiar. It is amazing what a little oil and potatoes can do to a quite dormitory in the hills of Ukyoku (my hood). I had to improvise with regard to the apple sauce and sour cream by buying a mixture of the two. However unorthodox the apple yogurt I used was, the sweet and savory tastes had me overwhelmed with nostalgia and by the looks of it had my friends taken aback in gastronomic euphoria, to say the absolute least. It didn't occur to me until the night was over, but I had assumed a different role in the big scheme of things. As Junko Uchidida cut the onions and prepared other secret ingredients to make the holy latke mixture, my good friend Dan from Ottowa was scubbed, peeled, shredded, and dried the potatoes. All the while I had assumed the role of latke-flipper. At the end of the night as I was pouring out the excess oil into a small tin can as my Dad and Grampa did before me, the thought that I had completed my ascension in ancient, hierarchical system of Ramras Family Latke making finally came to fruition.


Junko and Me


The Family

Finishing last week took alot of weight off of my shoulders, something that was in dior need of remedying. My ultimate obligation was to deliver a ten minute speech, in Japanese, on a topic of my choice. I settled on the Ainu, the indigenous people of Japanese, who currently, yet sparsely, reside in Japan's northern most island of Hokkaido. With my limited Japanese I was able to sum up roughly 800 years of the horrifically depressing history of the Ainu in just under ten minutes. Suffering from what I referred to as さまざまな人種の融合, or the fusion of races/people's, the Ainu's once plentiful and vibrant population has dwindled to a mere 150,000 in Japan, most of whom are of mixed blood. Moreover, there are few, if not no, surviving native speakers of the Ainu language. This fact could be a result of two circumstances. One being that the Ainu language and history were, for the most part, orally disseminated. The other being Japan's harsh repression of the Ainu-beginning in the Meiji period (1868-1912) and extending through the Taisho period (1912-1926)-to the extent that the entire minority was restricted from participating in traditional, religious ceremonies, using their language in public and, as children, prohibited to speak Ainu while in school. Despite these somber facts and statistics, current Ainu activism has provoked the founding of nearly 12 schools in which the Ainu language and other traditional customs, once outlawed, are being taught to the Ainu of the 21st century.

On yet another historical note, I visited the Kyoto Municipal Art Museum yesterday. I was given a free ticket to the current exhbition, featuring paintings from the early Meiji period (who can tell me when that was) through to the laste Showa period (1926-1989). I was privileged to the see the "Masterpieces from a Century of Bunten, Teiten and Shinbunten Exhibitions" that featured artists such as Shoen Uemura, Kikuchi Keigetsu and Heihachiro Fukuda. Please Google these guys to get a glimpse of some of Japan's national treasury. Aside from this main exhibition I stumbled across a huge showcase of what looked like thousands of framed shodo (calligraphy) pieces. As a current student of Japanese calligraphy, I couldn't help my self from walking through the exhibit multiple times. What seemed like a complete departure from original form and procedure, was actually a personal a pure projection along with the keenest sense of control, knowledge of the potential of traditional, and pure self-expression.


Vigor

Shout-out to my family in L.A., Sam, Simone and Mavis. Love you guys and love that you love my blog . . . love.
Happy Channukah to all, I really miss seeing your faces, that's right, yours.

The Seasons They Are A Changin' . . .

Good Evening All,

I just returned from an unfortunate trip to downtown Kyoto. Why unfortunate? I am almost reluctant to answer, but I am obliged to do so since I posed the question. I decided to be my flexible self again and agree to go to an all-you-can-eat pizza restaurant called "Shaky's". I should have know from the start and from the restaurant's name that I was in for it. I did enjoy the abundance of cheese that had been lacking in my diet, but apparently forgot about the death-like feeling that accompanies the consumption of more than seven slices of pizza, mediocre and amazing alike. One thing I do not regret is the desert pizza, custard and choclate sauce, please, you know you would too. Before going to the pizza store, roaming the shopping district, I stumbled across a sweet pair of high-top Puma shoes, coffee coloured. I haven't worn high-tops since Bruce Katka's third grade class-they were Nike and green with velcro. Either way, I shouldn't have got my hopes up, becuase any fool who is . . . well foolish enough to expect a Japanese shoe store to carry a size 30 is dreaming. I like dreams.

I went to a Sentou (a Japanese style public bathhouse) on Thursday. The entry fee was surprsingly cheap and the routine was simple enough for any foreigner to seem like a trained bathing veteran. First pay the nice old man in the front; get naked; pre-wash while sitting on a bucket in front of a pipping hot faucet; enter the communal hot bath, mineral bath, cold bath, outside hot bath, or sauna; relax. I perposely failed to mention the most exciting part of the Sentou experience, the electrified bath (denki-ofuro, literally electric bath). The bath is completely safe, but let me tell you, the current is definitely noticable. after immersing myself into the water I could feel electric currents surge through my fingers, into my forearms and up to my shoulders, now I know how all those poor golfers feel. The electric experience was heady, to say the least. If anybody gets the chance to try it, please, humor yourself and hop in. After dipping into almost every pool in the place the crew headed out for some beer and a bite-sleeping like a baby ensued. Cleanliness is next to not Godliness, but rediculously old, hairy, smiling, gargling, spitting, Japanese men who, without self-restriction, glare at your privates.

With respect to the title of this entry, Japan is now in the midst of one its most beloved seasons, autumn, in which the Koyo (changing leaves) are indeed a sight to be seen. People from all over the Kansai area, flock to Kyoto's most famous temples and parks to witness the changing of the leaves. The most famous time to see this annual natural phenomenon is actually at night, when various temples suck up watts upon watts of energy for couples and families alike to witness the changing leaves lit up in flouresence; the leaves and the seemingly endless spectrum of colours they display are truly awesome. A couple friends of mine, Harry from England, and Robert also born in the U.K., went to Arashiyama-a huge complex of temples and grounds that was once a vacation home for one of the Shogun's inner cabinet members in the Tokugawa Period (1603-1868)-to see the Koyo.


(from left to right) Harry, Me, and Robert


There were literally hundreds of these dimly lit stone Buddhas at the entrance of Arashiyama

I was not completely aware of how interesting this specific and obsessive sight-seeing spectical was until I sat through a lecture about Shinto this afternoon. Shinto is often labeled as a religion-in fact Shinto was used as a politico-religious tool to unite Japan under the divine Emperor (tennou) shortly after the Meiji Restoration in 1868, ending over two hundred years of Shogunal rule. Why do some aruge that Shinto is not a religion? The Professor who gave the lecture today began with a simple explaination using the kanji for the word Shinto. Shin 神 uses the kanji that represents gods, deities, or spirits, not the big G-O-D, mind you. The kanji for tou 道 is the same kanji used for street, road, passage, or way. Now some of you might be thinking, 'I've heard of "the way" before, that's Buddhism.' Good observation. However, the kanji for Buddhism tells all. Bukkyou (仏教), is represented by the kanji Bu and kyou, Buddha and teaching, respectively. As in the case of Buddhism, all other world religions are written with the same final character of "kyou" (teaching, remember?). The professor also touched on the fast that each world religion has a founder, a primary text, and a place of worship (Judaism for example: Abraham, the Torah, and Synagogues). Shinto has none of these, except shrines, where even worship is not practiced, only the summoning of deities-just clap your hands twice. Thus, Shinto, not Shinto-ISM, is set apart from the rest, not as a religion but as a passage through life. Which brings back to the leaves. Spring marks the birth of the leaves, Summer, their growth-skipping fall-Winter, their death, and more importantly Autumn the time of their maturity. Autumn and the reccurring Koyo symbolize the matiruty that is to be had by all along the way, in the passage, and throughout the experience of Shinto life.





Shout out to my Jewish familiy everywhere, for I will be missing you madly this Channukah. And a special shout out to my Dad and Grandpa Georgie for the eternally delicious latke recipe, love you both.

Until Next Time All