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.

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.