From a Free Man’s Fingertips . . .

Good Evening All,

As a Peter from the movie Office Space once said, "Today I did nothing and it was everything I thought it would be." I am a free man. I completed my classes as of yesterday and now there is nothing but a clear horizon ahead of me. I worked very hard this term and I think it really paid off. I kept myself super busy, as to not miss home, a diet with cheese in it, and cheap melon so much. I think my diligence did the trick. Has my Japanese improved? I have been asked this question many times in the past week from both fellow students and teachers and I the answer is yes. Are you fluent? My uncle Marsh asked me this last night; I am not fluent in Japanese. I can carry on an OK conversation with someone, I can give and take a compliment and there is no way that I can get lost because I am an ace at asking for and taking directions. For me to become fluent in Japanese, an extremely ambiguous language with countless homonyms and honourific expressions, I would have to be in Japan for say another 8-12 months. The good new is that I am going to be here for another 5 and I really look forward to continuing my Japanese studies in such an environment that nurture’s my academic goals.

So last week Kyoto’s temperature dropped considerably and it even snowed a few times. Thanks to my Pacific Northwestern upbringing, my thick skin and super cool coats have kept me warm and free of illness (knock on wood). However, with North Face fleeces and hand warming patches aside, the Japanese have two very special, closely related techniques for staying warm in the winter months. One is the nabe, which I have mentioned in previous entries. The nabe, with its warm hearty ingredients is the most effective and delicious remedy for bitter winter days. Now, when everybody gathers around the table to eat the said nabe, they don’t just sit there eating while their legs freeze off, that would just be silly. The Japanese kotatsu, or heated quilt, is the icing on the proverbial cake of warming tactics. Draped from all sides of the low table, a kotatsu provides a very physically and socially warm atmosphere to whatever gathering may be taking place. I know it sounds like I am pumping kotatsu for sales, but really, it’s heaven in heated quilt form. As a side note, I would also like to add that in the winter months frequency of sexual intercourse rises dramatically as a way to beat the cold. Thus, come August and September, Japan’s birthrate experiencing a sudden, yet expected spike in childbirths. I should really move to Hokkaido.


Snow in Kyoto, never sticks

Last week was my last week of classes. Like many of my final classes at UBC, the mood in the classroom is very relaxed. In my grammar class we got to watch a really hilarious Japanese movie called Water Boys. The movie was a classic Japanese melodrama, with the usual extremely exaggerated characters, events, comedic relief and cheesey romance. However, Water Boys’ content was what set it apart from the other Japanese movies that I have seen so far. The movie follows five male students who are entering the final stage in their high school careers, which includes a summer of intense classes focusing on preparing them for their fast approaching university entrance exams. These same boys, under extreme and coincidental conditions end up as the only members of the swimming circle in the high school. After a young, sexy, new teacher is hired at the school the swimming clubs hastily gains numbers, but when the teacher announces that the boys will be taught synchronized swimming, the once crowded classroom empties leaving the five main characters. The sex new teacher immediately leaves the school due to her pregnancy, leaving the boys without a proper teacher and their pool in jeopardy of being taken away. As the predictable story unfolds the usual warm fuzzy feelings of a classic melodrama saturate both the plot and dialogue, but in the best way possible. It’s a must see and for those of you lucky enough to be within driving distance of Scarecrow video in Seattle, I am sure that they have a copy.


Karaoke with my Listening class singing one of the more popular old songs in Japan

On Thursday, after my listening class ended my whole class including my sensei (teacher) went out for a midday karaoke session. Karaoke is ridiculously cheap during the day in Japan. I had a great time singing the classics with sensei and my usual Frank Sinatra songs-the chicks dig it so I dish it out. Also I saw one of the msot intersting music videos while our group sang Under the Sea from Little Mermaid. The music videos at karaoke are usually very obscure and juxtaposed. THi particular video had hot babes playing with beach balls on, well, the beach. Anyway, save for the cigarette smokers it was another truly enjoyable outing at the karaoke-yasan. By the way, family, get your practice on cause we are going to tear it up when you get hear, even you Dad. After karaoke a few stragglers went out for the best okonomiyaki and yakisoba in Kyoto at Jumbo, which is also, for better or for worse, within walking distant of the Rits campus. Last night, after my final class ended, a bunch of people from my culture class including the young and energetic professor went out for some drinks at Kushihachi, a great yakitori restaurant within waking distance of the Ritsumeikan campus. It was really great to sit back, relax and enjoy a few beers with my professor who, as I expected, carried himself in the same way outside as he did inside the classroom.


Sensei and I singing the Classics


JUMBO has the best okonomiyaki and yakisoba in town listen to the sizzle . . . mmmmm

Shout out to Robert Woodward, for he departed from Kyoto today to fly to New York City. He was the first to go in my dorm, Ritsumeikan International House 2. Following Rob will be a swath of Koreans, few Chinese, and my close Japanese neighbour Azusa. It is the end of the term and it is only expected, but it I always find my self reluctantly saying goodbye to new friends.

Until Next Time.

Congratulations at the Opening of this New Year . . .

Good Evening All and a Happy New Year,

The title of this blog is a rough translation of the salutations exchanged after the passing of the New Year-serious business. I have spent this past week thinking about how different this year's New Year celebration was from previous one's. For instance, last year, I was in Mexico on the beach (or close to it at least, John, Jesus, Zach, ya'll know what I mean). Years before I was in Seattle on lake Washington living it up with a close crew of my good old friends, smoking cigars, all pretending we liked the taste, drinking a bit champagne, not knowing that tobacco and champagne isn't the best combination, and watching a firework show on the distant lake shore. From my past experiences on New Years in the Western world I have deduced that the hours between the closing and opening of a new year have become a glorified excuse to get together and party down with the people you love, care about, or met for the first time because you were wearing the same comical 2008 glasses. I'm not saying this is bad, by no means would I dare say that. It's that in Japan my experience was wildly different.

For one, on New Year's day, Kyoto was busy bustling, like I have never seen it. As I have stated before, when I went to the super market to buy fermented beans, noodles, and cabbage the store was a busy as I had ever seen it. This can be said for numerous places across the world-everybody has to prepare for a party, whatever form it may take. The party is what differed the most from my past experiences. Instead of running around like crazy to invite as many as of your friends to your temporarily open house flowing with dry snacks and cheap beer, a majority of kids my age go home, period. I asked one of my from Kana what she planned to do for the New Year and she gave me that same answer. She went home to Saitama-ken (ken is prefecture) to visit her family and chow down on the special foods made around this time of year. So, as a traveler in Japan, I did as the Japanese did: a group of my dorm mates and I got together and made nabe (hot pot) with cabbage, onion, tofu, mushrooms, renkon (a hard circular, perforated, white vegetable), udon noodles and the special New Year ingredient MOCHI. Mochi is pounded and reformed gluttonous rice. When added to soup is softens and makes for a starchy, yet delicious treat, and like rice, sucks up any and all flavours. WARNING: mochi is not easy to swallow! Every year, a handful of people die around the New Year holiday as a result of choking on mochi.


Nabe, and mochi, the culprit resting on the top of the savoury bowl of deliciousness

On a lighter, less deadly note, the nabe was delicious. So delicious that we even forgot about our friend who drank until he fell asleep before all the ingredients were cut for the festive meal. He's just fine, and hey who wouldn't want to lose a few pounds around the holiday season. After the nabe I biked, without drinking, two blocks to the closest temple-two and a half blocks away is the second closest temple-to meet our old friend Junko for a special midnight celebration. Waiting at that empty intersection was a really amazing experience, but don't worry I'm not that easily entertained. As I waited there for Junko and crew to show up, old men women, parents with babes in arm, and couples rushed past me to enter the temple just minutes before the clock struck twelve. Kyoto is known for its abundance of temples, and let me tell you, I came to realize this in a very interesting way that night. In the previous entry I said that people who go to temples on New Year line up to ring a ceremonial bell 108 times, symbolizing the 108 Buddhist sins. So, as I watched my foggy breath fade in the florescent street lamps, I was enveloped in the vibrations of what sounded like 100's of temples around me. It was a wicked ass few minutes before my crew showed up, just in time to count down.

3, 2, 1. Just like that it was over, not a soul in the temple made a sound when the year turned over, they just kept on ringing and soon it was my turn. I rang the bell and received a half-deep bow from the fine-dressed monk. Afterwards, we were served piping hot sweet sake (amazake) that had a very thick, mealy, yet enjoyable texture to it. The night finished out like anyother after our outing to the temple: sitting around the kitchen table, drinking, and telling jokes from our respective countries, about the nationalities that were present at the time. This is have found to be an amazing way of bridging cultural gaps, take note UN.


Just look at those robes

I am almost done with my classes for this term and am working as hard as I can to pass the time until I go home. On that note, a Shout Out to my hard working cousin Simone who is soon to be published in Seventeen magazine, Sam, and Mavis, the Mackoff crew from L.A. and some of my most avid readers. Love and miss you guys. I'll see you at the Scrabble table next time we meet, so start brushing up on your vocab.

Until Next Time.