Hi all!
Thank you so much for the Christmas cards, packages, emails and wishes!
I am off to Thailand with Kalen until the 7th of January, so Happy New Year!
I have been a bit behind on my writing and photo update, but today I posted the most recent events, so I hope you enjoy! I know i did!!
Merry Christmas!
Talk to you in the New Year
Zoe chan
PHOTO EVENTS:
- Chobitto Film festival
- Murder mystery
- kagura play
- Kagawa Trip
- End of the Year work party
- Christmas dinner
Monday 24 December 2007
Thursday 20 December 2007
Shikoku Conquered!
I’ve done it! I have conquered Shikoku Island!
I have climbed the highest mountain, swam in the furthest-reaching capes of Muroto and Ashizuri; I have sat through the longest ceremonies (the recent five hour Kagura play trumped the four hour Cultural Festival) and I have thwarted incrimination during the most severe enkai’s. Summer humidity, autumn winds, winter blizzards… well, winter… okay, just WINTER, and spring typhoons!! I have undergone it all and lived to tell about it.
But more than this! Yes, much more than all this (queue music), I have finally been to each and every of Shikoku Island’s FOUR prefectures: Kochi-ken, Ehime-ken, Tokoshima-ken and now, at long last, KAGAWA.
It has the same mildly satisfying effect as getting a free coffee with a filled up points card. Only… there was no free coffee.
Kagawa-ken lies at the most northeastern tip of Shikoku Island. Despite being the smallest prefecture on the island, it is definitely not a place to be passed over. And it was my destination for the long weekend. I set out on Thursday night, driving the precarious first stretch of route 439-- a road that virtually splits the Shikoku from east to west in a narrow meandering passage.
Arriving in Tokoshima four or so lonely hours later, I was greeted by friend (and fellow Canadian) Joel. You might remember him from such adventures as The-first-time-I-put-makeup-on-a-man or The-very-first-and-hopefully-last-time-I-exterminate-a-Murade-in-my-house. It all makes sense in context, is all I can say.
Joel recently moved to Tokoshima prefecture from Kochi Prefecture, and even though this was a slight betrayal on his part, the deeper Canadian spirit saw us merrily on our way to Kagawa for a truly spontaneous adventure.
Before arriving in Kagawa-ken’s capital, Takamatsu, we visited Ritsurin koen (park), constructed in the 1600’s. If you were only to see one picture of the park, it would be this one:
However, I have already made plans to return in the spring, as the Sakura blossoms are said to be unparalleled.
Takamatsu is one of the main transportation links to the “mainland”- the island of Honshu, so it boasts everything from a myriad of ferry terminals to a fairly fashionable train station. More than that was the trendy downtown shopping centre, which was more beautiful than beneficial, but nonetheless served up the best hamburger I have had since Red Robins.
Stuffed and raring to go, we set out for the legendary island of Shodo-Shima, known best for its monkeys and olives (the entities, not the dish). The hour-long ferry ride weaved through the islands surrounding Takamatsu and eerily reminded me of the route from Sidney to Vancouver: trees, ocean, mountainous islands, sandy shores, Japanese fisherman…
The similarities ended abruptly, however, as we drew into Shodo-Shima harbor and the immanent image of faux-Greece assaulted our eyes.
“I wonder,” we wondered, “if in Greece you would find a red and black torii rising out of the landscape?” It seemed unlikely, but we nonetheless appreciated Japan’s enthusiasm for all things Western and ersatz.
Winding out way through the island, we attempted to reach the summit of the island, but were thwarted by the ever-ambiguous road-sign/map phenomenon- which is to say that despite our superior road-sign and map reading skills, what should have taken half-an-hour ended up taking two. Delayed arrival time none withstanding, the sight of Shodo-Shima basking in the sunset was well worth the trouble to have come.
On Saturday I set out alone and headed to Shikoku-mura, about 5 km from Takamatsu. Situated at the base of Yashima Hill (292 meter high table-top plateau), the village is a collection of historical buildings from around Shikoku Island. I arrived early and spent nearly three hours wandering along the lonely trails between the buildings, completely lost in the magnificence and history of the collection. Of the thirty some odd buildings, I was impressed most by the lighthouse-keeper houses and the sugarcane refineries, both of which broke away from the traditional style of open Japanese wooden houses.
Leaving Shikoku-mura was like walking out of a movie theatre still dazed and enthralled by everything you have just seen. I spent the rest of the day in sort of mesmerized stupor, which made my trip to Naoshima (another small island off the coast of Tokoshima) all the more inspiring.
In addition to its beaches, Naoshima is most famous for its “collection” of art. The island boasts two art museums and the Benesse Art House Project.
I first caught the bus to Chichu museum—a quintessential modernist museum, which was built in 2004 and is already known worldwide. The original idea was to re-conceptualize the relationship between nature and art, so architects (including Tadao Ando) chopped off the top of a mountain (I am sure that the surrounding nature was not damaged in the process), poured in a labyrinth of cement tunnels and artistically enclosed spaces and VOILA! Chichu was born. The museum is host to four major works by Claude Monet and a permanent exhibitions that feature a play on light—natural and artificial—by Walter De Maria, James Turrell.
** A moment to reflect on modernism and postmodernism:
Putting my illustrious Honours Theory Course to good use, I decided that Chichu was in definite need of a break down (in theory not in reality) and thus compiled the following table for those interested in the often tedious distinctions between these two rebellious art movements:
- FIRST RULE: the meaning is more important than what the thing looks like.
- abstraction
- SECOND RULE: The point of the work is not to depict the object, but to focus on its internal nature. (ex. A piece of paper with blank spaces for answers)
- Is it ugly? Okay, so that is a bit unfair. Modernist art and modernist architecture differ completely. Still. If it is square and cement, you KNOW it is modernist.
- THIRD RULE: emphasis on function and efficiency. (Minimalism)
Decartes: trying to make philosophy scientific with reason and fact. Logic behind all philosophy. Modernism is not about creativity.
- Out with the old and in with the new.
- FORTH RULE: modernism is all about in keeping with the newest trends, tastes, and styles.
- FIRST RULE: what something looks like is much more important than its meaning. After all, meaning is subjective! don't revise!
- SECOND RULE: Postmodernism eradicates the boundaries between high (Da Vinci) and low (comics) forms of art, “disrupting conventions with collision, collage, and fragmentation.” Creativity and rejection of binaries
- THIRD RULE: postmodernism as a reaction to modernist paradox’s. There are no fixed meanings because there are no defining boundaries. Geometric or purely abstract shapes are no useful; instead postmodernists aim for pastiche and discontinuity. Work with what’s at hand (Andy Warhol soup cans)
Neitzche: irrational thought processes through the lens of rationality and holism. In otherwords, stop being such a square… literally.
- Reaction to the modernist mundane: pastiche art
- FORTH RULE:: take from the old and make it new. Postmodernism is about amalgamating art forms—old and new—so all forms of art come together to create something visually stimulating, unique, and original.
So, is Chichu modern or postmodern? On one hand it is encased in cement making it functional, and it is definitely in keeping with abstract art forms. On the other hand it kind of breaks away from expectations and does the whole disrupting conventions. In one room there are a series of gold triangular cylinders (is there a better word for that?) arranged in three’s throughout the room, which rises onto three levels. The space is naturally lit and in the centre is a black ball. They say that no one person ever sees the same sight, because the light is always projecting different shades onto the room. I guess the fact that they say that single handedly makes it a modernist art work… yup… modernist… Function over Form.
That said, if I even began to describe the impact of Chichu I would be quenching the modernist dream. What I can say is this: no person can experience this museum in the same way, and no one can describe it in adequate terms. Ultimately, the impact resides in the feeling that the space gives you, rather than ““the skill and technique involved in producing visual representations.”
Sigh… oh you modernists… I not sure of anything anymore…
Moving on to more tangible and explicable works of art, I headed down to the Art House Project. In 1998 several old houses were given over to artists and remodeled into public exhibitions. Many of the houses remain traditional on the outside, while others resemble something akin to Pippy-Longstocking’s humble abode.
Unfortunately, the rice harvest festival taking place in the small town meant a series of unconquerable line-ups to get into the individual projects. Instead I wandered aimlessly though the village and appreciated the simple and unparallel beauty of everyday Japanese architecture: characteristically modernist… in case you were wondering; except for the stuff that really is post-modernist… and the stuff that is just plain old.
In short, the village (and Island for that matter) converges modern art with traditional Japan,
http://www.naoshima-is.co.jp/english/index.html
As I returned to the ferry, the sun was just beginning to set, and I couldn’t help but think that—though it is an unbearable cliché—nature tends to be the unrivaled artist.
On that very note, Joel and I set out to visit Naruto’s acclaimed whirlpools the following day, for the final leg of my trip:
“One of the greatest attractions of the Seto Inland Sea is the world's most powerful tidal current, swirling at a velocity of twenty kilometers per hour or higher. You can see giant whirlpools created by the ebb and flow of currents at Naruto Strait in Tokushima Prefecture. During spring and autumn in particular, vortexes can reach up to twenty meters in diameter, and are a sight worth seeing. When planning a visit to the area, you are recommended to time your trip to coincide with high or low tides, during which times the whirlpools are most clearly visible. Whilst waiting for the ebb or flow tides, a visit to the Onaruto Bridge Crossing Memorial Museum is also recommended. There you can enjoy a magnificent view of the whirlpools on a panorama screen.” (sorry, I don’t think I could have said it better than that!)”
Though we waited almost four hours for the peak tides to arrive, the whirlpools were by no means the 20 or so meters that others have been fortunate enough to capture. Still, we stared into the swirling water for a good two hours, completely mesmerized by the unpredictable torrents and sudden spirals. It was momentous enough to leave us wanting more, come spring, when they t
he whirlpools are said to be at their best.
Little did I know that my adventures had only just begun (DAN DAN DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…. cue thought-provoking and suspense inducing music).
I have climbed the highest mountain, swam in the furthest-reaching capes of Muroto and Ashizuri; I have sat through the longest ceremonies (the recent five hour Kagura play trumped the four hour Cultural Festival) and I have thwarted incrimination during the most severe enkai’s. Summer humidity, autumn winds, winter blizzards… well, winter… okay, just WINTER, and spring typhoons!! I have undergone it all and lived to tell about it.
But more than this! Yes, much more than all this (queue music), I have finally been to each and every of Shikoku Island’s FOUR prefectures: Kochi-ken, Ehime-ken, Tokoshima-ken and now, at long last, KAGAWA.
It has the same mildly satisfying effect as getting a free coffee with a filled up points card. Only… there was no free coffee.
Kagawa-ken lies at the most northeastern tip of Shikoku Island. Despite being the smallest prefecture on the island, it is definitely not a place to be passed over. And it was my destination for the long weekend. I set out on Thursday night, driving the precarious first stretch of route 439-- a road that virtually splits the Shikoku from east to west in a narrow meandering passage.
Arriving in Tokoshima four or so lonely hours later, I was greeted by friend (and fellow Canadian) Joel. You might remember him from such adventures as The-first-time-I-put-makeup-on-a-man or The-very-first-and-hopefully-last-time-I-exterminate-a-Murade-in-my-house. It all makes sense in context, is all I can say.
Joel recently moved to Tokoshima prefecture from Kochi Prefecture, and even though this was a slight betrayal on his part, the deeper Canadian spirit saw us merrily on our way to Kagawa for a truly spontaneous adventure.
Before arriving in Kagawa-ken’s capital, Takamatsu, we visited Ritsurin koen (park), constructed in the 1600’s. If you were only to see one picture of the park, it would be this one:
However, I have already made plans to return in the spring, as the Sakura blossoms are said to be unparalleled.
Takamatsu is one of the main transportation links to the “mainland”- the island of Honshu, so it boasts everything from a myriad of ferry terminals to a fairly fashionable train station. More than that was the trendy downtown shopping centre, which was more beautiful than beneficial, but nonetheless served up the best hamburger I have had since Red Robins.
Stuffed and raring to go, we set out for the legendary island of Shodo-Shima, known best for its monkeys and olives (the entities, not the dish). The hour-long ferry ride weaved through the islands surrounding Takamatsu and eerily reminded me of the route from Sidney to Vancouver: trees, ocean, mountainous islands, sandy shores, Japanese fisherman…
The similarities ended abruptly, however, as we drew into Shodo-Shima harbor and the immanent image of faux-Greece assaulted our eyes.
“I wonder,” we wondered, “if in Greece you would find a red and black torii rising out of the landscape?” It seemed unlikely, but we nonetheless appreciated Japan’s enthusiasm for all things Western and ersatz.
Winding out way through the island, we attempted to reach the summit of the island, but were thwarted by the ever-ambiguous road-sign/map phenomenon- which is to say that despite our superior road-sign and map reading skills, what should have taken half-an-hour ended up taking two. Delayed arrival time none withstanding, the sight of Shodo-Shima basking in the sunset was well worth the trouble to have come.
On Saturday I set out alone and headed to Shikoku-mura, about 5 km from Takamatsu. Situated at the base of Yashima Hill (292 meter high table-top plateau), the village is a collection of historical buildings from around Shikoku Island. I arrived early and spent nearly three hours wandering along the lonely trails between the buildings, completely lost in the magnificence and history of the collection. Of the thirty some odd buildings, I was impressed most by the lighthouse-keeper houses and the sugarcane refineries, both of which broke away from the traditional style of open Japanese wooden houses.
Leaving Shikoku-mura was like walking out of a movie theatre still dazed and enthralled by everything you have just seen. I spent the rest of the day in sort of mesmerized stupor, which made my trip to Naoshima (another small island off the coast of Tokoshima) all the more inspiring.
In addition to its beaches, Naoshima is most famous for its “collection” of art. The island boasts two art museums and the Benesse Art House Project.
I first caught the bus to Chichu museum—a quintessential modernist museum, which was built in 2004 and is already known worldwide. The original idea was to re-conceptualize the relationship between nature and art, so architects (including Tadao Ando) chopped off the top of a mountain (I am sure that the surrounding nature was not damaged in the process), poured in a labyrinth of cement tunnels and artistically enclosed spaces and VOILA! Chichu was born. The museum is host to four major works by Claude Monet and a permanent exhibitions that feature a play on light—natural and artificial—by Walter De Maria, James Turrell.
** A moment to reflect on modernism and postmodernism:
Putting my illustrious Honours Theory Course to good use, I decided that Chichu was in definite need of a break down (in theory not in reality) and thus compiled the following table for those interested in the often tedious distinctions between these two rebellious art movements:
modernism
- Function over form- FIRST RULE: the meaning is more important than what the thing looks like.
- abstraction
- SECOND RULE: The point of the work is not to depict the object, but to focus on its internal nature. (ex. A piece of paper with blank spaces for answers)
- Is it ugly? Okay, so that is a bit unfair. Modernist art and modernist architecture differ completely. Still. If it is square and cement, you KNOW it is modernist.
- THIRD RULE: emphasis on function and efficiency. (Minimalism)
Decartes: trying to make philosophy scientific with reason and fact. Logic behind all philosophy. Modernism is not about creativity.
- Out with the old and in with the new.
- FORTH RULE: modernism is all about in keeping with the newest trends, tastes, and styles.
postmodernism
- Form over function- FIRST RULE: what something looks like is much more important than its meaning. After all, meaning is subjective! don't revise!
- SECOND RULE: Postmodernism eradicates the boundaries between high (Da Vinci) and low (comics) forms of art, “disrupting conventions with collision, collage, and fragmentation.” Creativity and rejection of binaries
- THIRD RULE: postmodernism as a reaction to modernist paradox’s. There are no fixed meanings because there are no defining boundaries. Geometric or purely abstract shapes are no useful; instead postmodernists aim for pastiche and discontinuity. Work with what’s at hand (Andy Warhol soup cans)
Neitzche: irrational thought processes through the lens of rationality and holism. In otherwords, stop being such a square… literally.
- Reaction to the modernist mundane: pastiche art
- FORTH RULE:: take from the old and make it new. Postmodernism is about amalgamating art forms—old and new—so all forms of art come together to create something visually stimulating, unique, and original.
So, is Chichu modern or postmodern? On one hand it is encased in cement making it functional, and it is definitely in keeping with abstract art forms. On the other hand it kind of breaks away from expectations and does the whole disrupting conventions. In one room there are a series of gold triangular cylinders (is there a better word for that?) arranged in three’s throughout the room, which rises onto three levels. The space is naturally lit and in the centre is a black ball. They say that no one person ever sees the same sight, because the light is always projecting different shades onto the room. I guess the fact that they say that single handedly makes it a modernist art work… yup… modernist… Function over Form.
That said, if I even began to describe the impact of Chichu I would be quenching the modernist dream. What I can say is this: no person can experience this museum in the same way, and no one can describe it in adequate terms. Ultimately, the impact resides in the feeling that the space gives you, rather than ““the skill and technique involved in producing visual representations.”
Sigh… oh you modernists… I not sure of anything anymore…
Moving on to more tangible and explicable works of art, I headed down to the Art House Project. In 1998 several old houses were given over to artists and remodeled into public exhibitions. Many of the houses remain traditional on the outside, while others resemble something akin to Pippy-Longstocking’s humble abode.
Unfortunately, the rice harvest festival taking place in the small town meant a series of unconquerable line-ups to get into the individual projects. Instead I wandered aimlessly though the village and appreciated the simple and unparallel beauty of everyday Japanese architecture: characteristically modernist… in case you were wondering; except for the stuff that really is post-modernist… and the stuff that is just plain old.
In short, the village (and Island for that matter) converges modern art with traditional Japan,
http://www.naoshima-is.co.jp/english/index.html
As I returned to the ferry, the sun was just beginning to set, and I couldn’t help but think that—though it is an unbearable cliché—nature tends to be the unrivaled artist.
On that very note, Joel and I set out to visit Naruto’s acclaimed whirlpools the following day, for the final leg of my trip:
“One of the greatest attractions of the Seto Inland Sea is the world's most powerful tidal current, swirling at a velocity of twenty kilometers per hour or higher. You can see giant whirlpools created by the ebb and flow of currents at Naruto Strait in Tokushima Prefecture. During spring and autumn in particular, vortexes can reach up to twenty meters in diameter, and are a sight worth seeing. When planning a visit to the area, you are recommended to time your trip to coincide with high or low tides, during which times the whirlpools are most clearly visible. Whilst waiting for the ebb or flow tides, a visit to the Onaruto Bridge Crossing Memorial Museum is also recommended. There you can enjoy a magnificent view of the whirlpools on a panorama screen.” (sorry, I don’t think I could have said it better than that!)”
Though we waited almost four hours for the peak tides to arrive, the whirlpools were by no means the 20 or so meters that others have been fortunate enough to capture. Still, we stared into the swirling water for a good two hours, completely mesmerized by the unpredictable torrents and sudden spirals. It was momentous enough to leave us wanting more, come spring, when they t
he whirlpools are said to be at their best.And so, both literally and metaphorically, I completed my whirlwind trip of the great northern reaches of Shikoku and once again returned though the mountains to my humble mountain abode.
Little did I know that my adventures had only just begun (DAN DAN DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…. cue thought-provoking and suspense inducing music).
Monday 10 December 2007
Some Day my Prince Will Come...
Hypothetically speaking… if one were to lose ones shoes in downtown Kochi… where might they look for them??
This was the question I proposed to my coworkers Monday morning.
“How can you lose your shoes?” They asked, demanding the full story. I was mortified, but told them the following tale:
It was the night of the Chobitto Amateur Film Festival. The sun set over the western skies casting an eerie glow over Kochi city, portending the loss of shoes that was to come. I was called by the film festival coordinator, requesting that I be the official videographer of the evening. Flattered, how could I refuse? So I set off to Kochi City to capture my good friend Matt become transformed into a geisha.
As I was filming, a Japanese man turned to me and said "anata wa kimoni ga kini ite kureru..." or something to the effect. Flattered that he thought I would look beautiful in a kimono I could think of nothing to say, because it was the sort of ambiguous comment that also deserved a reserved silence. But his next comment was more clarifying. "We will put you in a kimono because you will look beautiful in it."
Well, what could I say? I was briskly swept away (kidnapped is more accurate) and two hours later arrived at the film festival... not me!
I was a bit traumatized and overwhelmed, but excited to spend the evening as someone other than me (ie. demur and refined). Thus it was that, in amongst running from the balcony camera to the side stage camera, I obediently played the part of puppet the rest of the night ("stand here" "move your arm… yes, yes, like that") and enjoyed (?) being generally objectified. It was amazing to see what people felt comfortable doing to and with me, dressed like that.
Well, after all the madness I still had to do my job as film and so a drink was due to me when all was said and done.
This was the question I proposed to my coworkers Monday morning.
“How can you lose your shoes?” They asked, demanding the full story. I was mortified, but told them the following tale:
It was the night of the Chobitto Amateur Film Festival. The sun set over the western skies casting an eerie glow over Kochi city, portending the loss of shoes that was to come. I was called by the film festival coordinator, requesting that I be the official videographer of the evening. Flattered, how could I refuse? So I set off to Kochi City to capture my good friend Matt become transformed into a geisha.
As I was filming, a Japanese man turned to me and said "anata wa kimoni ga kini ite kureru..." or something to the effect. Flattered that he thought I would look beautiful in a kimono I could think of nothing to say, because it was the sort of ambiguous comment that also deserved a reserved silence. But his next comment was more clarifying. "We will put you in a kimono because you will look beautiful in it."Well, what could I say? I was briskly swept away (kidnapped is more accurate) and two hours later arrived at the film festival... not me!
I was a bit traumatized and overwhelmed, but excited to spend the evening as someone other than me (ie. demur and refined). Thus it was that, in amongst running from the balcony camera to the side stage camera, I obediently played the part of puppet the rest of the night ("stand here" "move your arm… yes, yes, like that") and enjoyed (?) being generally objectified. It was amazing to see what people felt comfortable doing to and with me, dressed like that.
Well, after all the madness I still had to do my job as film and so a drink was due to me when all was said and done.
First, however, I was transported back to the kimono shop, stripped and left to my own devices, which turned out to be a sexy black dress and red heels (note: these are magic red heels. Every time I wear them wonderful times ensue)
My friend (wife) Aki and I then headed downtown to meet the Post-Oscar Party-goers. The events that ensued are hazy; not because I was inebriated (yet), but because there was such a whirlwind of activity and festivity that I was a bit dizzy having been lost in the midst of it. In the end we danced the night away and late in the night... no ... early the following morning we (Casey, Kalen, Nick and I) wandered the streets of Kochi in search of a shelter.
All I can say is that with three men aiding me, I should not have lost my precious magic red heels. And yet....
Alas... they are in limbo somewhere between my having a good time in them and waking up the next day feeling the effects of that good time...
Where have I heard this story before…?
… a far away kingdom..
… the night of a party…
… transformed into a … Japanese woman…
… lost shoes!
Oh! We all know what comes next!
It is all so apparent to me now! … The man of my dreams will present my red heels before me, sweep my on to his horse and ride off with me into the sunset…
Sigh…
And they lived happily ever after…
Tuesday 20 November 2007
Apathy vs. insanity
I know that saying I am apathetic towards politics is not the most sophisticated thing to say, but at least it's honest.
I live in a hamlet. My TV isn't plugged in. The only news that reaches my eyes are the headlines on yahoo.com. (I can't believe there are over 1200 calories in a sandwich!). It is not that I am actively AVOIDING the news, it is simply that I am not pursuing it.
Today, however, I ventured in to the realm of self-awakening and followed through with a suggestion to read up on the much heated debate over Japan's new foreigner identification law: "requiring the majority of foreigners entering Japan to be fingerprinted and photographed."
Reading this Japan Time's article was like trying to muster an A out a first-year college paper I had once written. In other words, it was daunting.
I wish to summarize the words written by "a high-ranking Ministry of Injustice official closely involved in the planning and implementation of the measure... who wishes to remain anonymous [for good reason, as you are about to see]."
1. He argues that many foreigners come to Japan to teach English. They come to teach English because Japanese people want to be able to communicate with foriegners who come for "pleasure or business." So foreigners are coming to help Japanese people help foreigners. You with me?
BUT: this "new law will significantly reduce this number [of foreigns] so the need for foreign language teachers will decline sharply"
this is good BECAUSE: "it is highly unlikely there will be a repeat of the Nova fiasco."
[** Nova is a private English teaching company that has recently gone bankrupt, leaving thousands of foreigners without jobs]
Here is where I am confused (yes, already): So they implement a new law that is likely to reduce the number of foreigners coming to Japan (they will be too offended by the new law to want to come, just in case you were wondering). No foreign travelers mean no need for foreign teachers. Because the teachers sole purpose, of course, is only to teach people how to talk to travelers.
THUS: with no foreign teachers, no jobs can be lost (I am dusting my hands off, just so you get the picture)
Am I missing something?
2. This new law is not only great for getting teachers out of the country, but it will keep other Asians out too! What he means by this, is that "the new law will reduce the number of foreigners in Japan, and the benefits of this will be felt throughout Asia as countries' brightest brains choose to stay and work in the land of their birth."
No redundant teachers lying around, and "no more brain drain" in Asian countries that are feeling the effects of sending their "brightest brains" to Japan... where they are making lots of money... and sending it home... a home not in Japan...
I feel like I am getting it now!
3. Here is where it gets good: because Japan has been kind enough to put this new law in effect, countries are going to relocate elsewhere and give other countries a chance "spread the benefits of globalization and free markets as widely as possible."
"As it has done in the past, the generosity of the Japanese government will allow other countries to develop economically and socially. Japan is a rich nation, but not a greedy one..."
uh...
I am just going to forge ahead here:
4. Finally, without all those white people teaching English, all those brown people taking up job space, and all those green (these are the capitalists) people spilling money into other parts of the globe, there will be "more jobs for Japanese and this may go some way toward combating the growing income gap in Japan."
AND IN CONCLUSION: [this part was impossible to paraphrase...]
"the pressure to learn English will be reduced, and this will allow Japanese people to spend more time studying their own country's history, traditions and culture. English will become an optional language for those who really want to study it, and there will still be enough foreigners here to meet the reduced demand. But, as I outlined above, the main benefits will be felt internationally, as Japan steps back slightly on the world stage and graciously allows some other countries the chance to shine."
...
... Someone seriously didn't get enough stickers in English class...
...
According to all the other news on the subject: This new law was put in place to protect foreigners and to protect Japanese citizens. It will produce a feeling of security and consideration for the greater well being of people everywhere, and it will bring Japan into the modern age of airport security measures.
Oh, and that stuff that high-ranking guy wrote...
Apathetic?
Can you blame me?
"In hindsight, his choice of words was perhaps inappropriate, but the truth in what he said is undeniable. The simple fact is that this law will make Japan a safer country by tightening its borders and preventing would-be terrorists from entering."
I live in a hamlet. My TV isn't plugged in. The only news that reaches my eyes are the headlines on yahoo.com. (I can't believe there are over 1200 calories in a sandwich!). It is not that I am actively AVOIDING the news, it is simply that I am not pursuing it.
Today, however, I ventured in to the realm of self-awakening and followed through with a suggestion to read up on the much heated debate over Japan's new foreigner identification law: "requiring the majority of foreigners entering Japan to be fingerprinted and photographed."
http://search.japantimes.co.jp/mail/fl20071120a1.htm
Reading this Japan Time's article was like trying to muster an A out a first-year college paper I had once written. In other words, it was daunting.
I wish to summarize the words written by "a high-ranking Ministry of Injustice official closely involved in the planning and implementation of the measure... who wishes to remain anonymous [for good reason, as you are about to see]."
1. He argues that many foreigners come to Japan to teach English. They come to teach English because Japanese people want to be able to communicate with foriegners who come for "pleasure or business." So foreigners are coming to help Japanese people help foreigners. You with me?
BUT: this "new law will significantly reduce this number [of foreigns] so the need for foreign language teachers will decline sharply"
this is good BECAUSE: "it is highly unlikely there will be a repeat of the Nova fiasco."
[** Nova is a private English teaching company that has recently gone bankrupt, leaving thousands of foreigners without jobs]
Here is where I am confused (yes, already): So they implement a new law that is likely to reduce the number of foreigners coming to Japan (they will be too offended by the new law to want to come, just in case you were wondering). No foreign travelers mean no need for foreign teachers. Because the teachers sole purpose, of course, is only to teach people how to talk to travelers.
THUS: with no foreign teachers, no jobs can be lost (I am dusting my hands off, just so you get the picture)
Am I missing something?
2. This new law is not only great for getting teachers out of the country, but it will keep other Asians out too! What he means by this, is that "the new law will reduce the number of foreigners in Japan, and the benefits of this will be felt throughout Asia as countries' brightest brains choose to stay and work in the land of their birth."
No redundant teachers lying around, and "no more brain drain" in Asian countries that are feeling the effects of sending their "brightest brains" to Japan... where they are making lots of money... and sending it home... a home not in Japan...
I feel like I am getting it now!
3. Here is where it gets good: because Japan has been kind enough to put this new law in effect, countries are going to relocate elsewhere and give other countries a chance "spread the benefits of globalization and free markets as widely as possible."
"As it has done in the past, the generosity of the Japanese government will allow other countries to develop economically and socially. Japan is a rich nation, but not a greedy one..."
uh...
I am just going to forge ahead here:
4. Finally, without all those white people teaching English, all those brown people taking up job space, and all those green (these are the capitalists) people spilling money into other parts of the globe, there will be "more jobs for Japanese and this may go some way toward combating the growing income gap in Japan."
AND IN CONCLUSION: [this part was impossible to paraphrase...]
"the pressure to learn English will be reduced, and this will allow Japanese people to spend more time studying their own country's history, traditions and culture. English will become an optional language for those who really want to study it, and there will still be enough foreigners here to meet the reduced demand. But, as I outlined above, the main benefits will be felt internationally, as Japan steps back slightly on the world stage and graciously allows some other countries the chance to shine."
...
... Someone seriously didn't get enough stickers in English class...
...
According to all the other news on the subject: This new law was put in place to protect foreigners and to protect Japanese citizens. It will produce a feeling of security and consideration for the greater well being of people everywhere, and it will bring Japan into the modern age of airport security measures.
Oh, and that stuff that high-ranking guy wrote...
Apathetic?
Can you blame me?
"In hindsight, his choice of words was perhaps inappropriate, but the truth in what he said is undeniable. The simple fact is that this law will make Japan a safer country by tightening its borders and preventing would-be terrorists from entering."
Thursday 8 November 2007
Kagura Festival at Nisho-jinja
In Japan, it is in the most unassuming places that I find myself breathless with wonder. Ono-sensei drove Monica, Miyuki and I into the mountains for the annual Kagura Festival this past Thursday. The small, twisty roads cut in along the mountain cliffs, barely hugging the ridges of the ravine. The higher we drove the more peril it became, making me think that part of the effect of reclusive Shinto shrines was that you arrived with a better appreciation for your life, having fared the journey. And then the space abruptly opens up, and there before us is a tiny hamlet, rising up along the slope and down the length of the river. Monica and I marvel at the village as we pass though, wondering how- long ago- someone had stumbled onto this narrow vista and decided to settle. In the mountains, green tea field terrace the cleared away forests and rice fields line the river, barely leaving room for the houses in between. This is made uncomfortably apparent as our minivan squeezes onto the edge of the road in order to allow another car to pass, giving us an intimate close-up of every molecule of dust that lays on the window between our prying eyes and someone’s living-room. The van stops alongside a diminutive dam that should be embarrassed to even be there. Sure enough, a steady but meager jet of water is being compressed through it while the surrounding stream looks on, a bit disgruntled about the whole thing. The surrounding trees are the colour of burnt sand and cardinal. And it is here, on this completely unassuming and random strip of road, that we park and make our way to the festival. I look around for any signs of a shrine, but there are only the remnants of an old farm lining the roadway. We cross a rusty bridge in front of the dam and come to a converging path that leads up in both directions. Never would I have assumed that this was the entrance to such a reverent place. And it truly is reverent. A torii gate stands ahead of us on the path marking the entrance to Nisho-jinja (shrine). The stone steps leading up the mountain are gradual and wide, which makes the carpet of green moss shrouding them all the more spectacular. It is like stepping into a mythical world. There is something truly breathtaking about the path we follow to the shrine. The forests in Japan have an almost incongruous was of growing: neither dense nor sparse, neither dark nor light; cedars and oaks dot the forest, but little underbrush grows, leaving rocks and roots exposed. The jutting rocks make the path before us calmingly enclosed, as though they are tucking everything in neatly. We are so mesmerized by the scene that we can barely walk two steps without taking a picture or inspecting something. Ono looks like a proud parent, stopping to read the Kanji from the grey slabs that line the final steps ahead of us. “These are all the people who have made donations to the shrine,” he tells us, and even though the words are meaningless, the sheer volume of names etched into the stones leave us with little doubt of the value of this place. Music comes suddenly from above us and we hurry on, stopping to nod and bow to various individuals along the way. We take off our shoes at the base of the shrine and ascend, squeezing past a group of Oba-chans (elderly ladies/grandmothers), nodding and bowing again, "Sumimasen... ohaiyo gozaimasu... sumimasen" and are barely seated before a tiny warm cup of Sake is pressed into our hands. In Japan, Sake is synonymous with “happy occasions” and there is barely ever an excuse not to receive at least a small cup. Even Monica takes a quick (though singular) drink- the first I have seen in a year! Within the small shrine, the atmosphere is so jovial that I can hardly believe we are in a sacred place. Along two sides of the room- lined with thin and heavily worn tatami mats- people are gathered behind low tables- crouching, kneeling and lounging amidst platters of sashimi, fruit, dried fish and bottle and bottles of sake. As I gaze around the room I realize we are- by far- the youngest people to have come. In the center of the room, a man is dancing with measured and unhurried steps, facing east and bowing, facing west and bowing, moving to each edge of the tatami, his face serious with either concentration or adulation. I recognize him as the father of one of my students (Sumida san), who I had the pleasure of meeting at the last enkai. To see him so serious now, in complete contrast to the jovial man I knew him to be, was remarkable.
Behind him are the musician, padding away on small drums and clanking cymbals. The space in which the dancing takes place is small enough that I could take three giant steps across it. The effect of this panoptic space is that everyone observes everyone else while simultaneously observing the dance before them. I sit poised with my camera in one hand and my sake cup in the other, told over and over to “drink up” so that it can be refilled again. If I chance to have a hand free, more food is pressed into it or I am asked to pose for a picture. “Shinto is very exciting!” I proclaim sometime into the fervent activity. By now, those who may have been too shy to approach us before a glass of sake are more than willing to strike up a conversation. Even the dancers are laughing to one another as they circle around the room. It is as though they are sharing a private joke in the midst of their dance. Their laughter is contagious.“Nihongo wakarimasu ka?” A man wobbles towards me and kneels close by, leaning into me enthusiastically. I tell him that I only speak a smidge of Japanese (and that is actually exaggerating), which invites him to dictate the entire history of the shrine and the festival. I, meanwhile, nod politely and smile, glancing helplessly to Ono-san who obligingly translates. “This shrine is very old. And this festival started at this very place over 700 years ago.” The shrine itself is perhaps 500 years old (possibly more). I'm amazed, to say the least, asking question after question. But above the clamor of cymbals and drums it is difficult to understand. I make a note to quiz them on a more composed occasion. What I did learn, though, was that after the dance and the festival first originated here- inspired by the local Shinto priests- it spread throughout the region and is now widely practiced at various shrines. Less religious than frivolous, the festival is a chance for some twelve or fourteen specified Shinto devotees (not exactly priests, from what I gathered…there was a great deal of difficulty in articulating what their title might be) to pay homage to the local spirits through song and dance. Oh, and Sake. Paper “kami” are strung throughout the shrine and often through the village as a representation of these spirits. The festival is also a celebration of the seasons, this one in particular marking a bountiful fall harvest (as noted by the bountiful harvest before us!). Shinto is said to be the more unruly sister of Buddhism (note: Shinto Shrines, Buddhist temples). From what I understand, it is very much a regional religion, heavily influenced, if not modified by, Buddhism and Confucianism. In addition to the observance of traditional customs and ceremonies, Shinto is far less religious than its predecessors. The result is an eclectic mix of venerated spirits that are taken directly from any given local: in the mountains, for instance, the central celebrations revolve around agriculture spirits; near the sea, fishing spirits, and so on. In Wakayama Prefecture, Nachi no Taki (the largest waterfall in Japan) is venerated as a divine Shinto spirit. This is not to say that spirits are limited to local. There is an infamous shrine in Kagawa prefecture, way a top the mountain, that reveres divers. Whatever the cause for celebration, these festivals have one thing in common: a sense of community fueled by convivial revelry. More than anything, these festivals offer a glimpse of the true Japanese spirit as, each autumn, the community gathers to reign in a bountiful year and settle in for the oncoming winter.
Behind him are the musician, padding away on small drums and clanking cymbals. The space in which the dancing takes place is small enough that I could take three giant steps across it. The effect of this panoptic space is that everyone observes everyone else while simultaneously observing the dance before them. I sit poised with my camera in one hand and my sake cup in the other, told over and over to “drink up” so that it can be refilled again. If I chance to have a hand free, more food is pressed into it or I am asked to pose for a picture. “Shinto is very exciting!” I proclaim sometime into the fervent activity. By now, those who may have been too shy to approach us before a glass of sake are more than willing to strike up a conversation. Even the dancers are laughing to one another as they circle around the room. It is as though they are sharing a private joke in the midst of their dance. Their laughter is contagious.“Nihongo wakarimasu ka?” A man wobbles towards me and kneels close by, leaning into me enthusiastically. I tell him that I only speak a smidge of Japanese (and that is actually exaggerating), which invites him to dictate the entire history of the shrine and the festival. I, meanwhile, nod politely and smile, glancing helplessly to Ono-san who obligingly translates. “This shrine is very old. And this festival started at this very place over 700 years ago.” The shrine itself is perhaps 500 years old (possibly more). I'm amazed, to say the least, asking question after question. But above the clamor of cymbals and drums it is difficult to understand. I make a note to quiz them on a more composed occasion. What I did learn, though, was that after the dance and the festival first originated here- inspired by the local Shinto priests- it spread throughout the region and is now widely practiced at various shrines. Less religious than frivolous, the festival is a chance for some twelve or fourteen specified Shinto devotees (not exactly priests, from what I gathered…there was a great deal of difficulty in articulating what their title might be) to pay homage to the local spirits through song and dance. Oh, and Sake. Paper “kami” are strung throughout the shrine and often through the village as a representation of these spirits. The festival is also a celebration of the seasons, this one in particular marking a bountiful fall harvest (as noted by the bountiful harvest before us!). Shinto is said to be the more unruly sister of Buddhism (note: Shinto Shrines, Buddhist temples). From what I understand, it is very much a regional religion, heavily influenced, if not modified by, Buddhism and Confucianism. In addition to the observance of traditional customs and ceremonies, Shinto is far less religious than its predecessors. The result is an eclectic mix of venerated spirits that are taken directly from any given local: in the mountains, for instance, the central celebrations revolve around agriculture spirits; near the sea, fishing spirits, and so on. In Wakayama Prefecture, Nachi no Taki (the largest waterfall in Japan) is venerated as a divine Shinto spirit. This is not to say that spirits are limited to local. There is an infamous shrine in Kagawa prefecture, way a top the mountain, that reveres divers. Whatever the cause for celebration, these festivals have one thing in common: a sense of community fueled by convivial revelry. More than anything, these festivals offer a glimpse of the true Japanese spirit as, each autumn, the community gathers to reign in a bountiful year and settle in for the oncoming winter.
Naked (Chef) Zoe II
I've been cooking lately. Not just cooking... creating! It is nothing short of a miracle either. You need only walk into Restaurant Matisse and ask any individual working there. They will verify this declaration!
They are famous for many things (Matisse), but one of the most temping is Le Gateau Chocolate. It's pure, unadultered melt in your mouth goodness. And so, one fine day in May several years ago, I attempted something both rash and reckless: copying down the recipe (I had to bribe people), I set out to make this glorious cake.
The end result was... tragic actually.
I was devastated. What went wrong? The next chance I had, I asked Chef (see note) what I possibly could have done wrong.
"It was like a deflated cowpie," I cried, looking truly forlorn.
Reading over the receipe I had written down he asked "Did you beat the eggs until white?"
"I beat them," I answered.
"How much did you beat them?"
"Well, it says until they are white... but they are already white... so I didn't really know what that meant... I just beat them a bit... till they were all milky. Milky white!..."
[note: old habits die hard... even after the Queen is not the queen, she will still be the "queen" just as Chef will always be Chef... ]
I am an embarrassment to the kitchen. Food, like music, is one of those things that doesn't need to get adventurous (re: I listen to the same CD over and over until it is rendered completely useless). Once you perfect a dish there is no need to get to crazy perfecting more. I am a whiz a lasagna, having made it for every dinner party, potluck, etc for the last 8 years.
I was meditating over this the other day, absently kneading pizza dough to make calzones.. no wait! Calzones? Since when do can I make Calzones?
And in Japan of all places! Shouldn't I be making sushi? Perfecting the art of slicing Sashimi just so?
Perhaps it is in the absence of all my favourite restaurants and food that I have stumbled upon this new-found passion. Then again, I HAVE been working in the restaurant industry since I was 16...
Whether from bereavement or scarcity, I am a chef!
They are famous for many things (Matisse), but one of the most temping is Le Gateau Chocolate. It's pure, unadultered melt in your mouth goodness. And so, one fine day in May several years ago, I attempted something both rash and reckless: copying down the recipe (I had to bribe people), I set out to make this glorious cake.
The end result was... tragic actually.
I was devastated. What went wrong? The next chance I had, I asked Chef (see note) what I possibly could have done wrong.
"It was like a deflated cowpie," I cried, looking truly forlorn.
Reading over the receipe I had written down he asked "Did you beat the eggs until white?"
"I beat them," I answered.
"How much did you beat them?"
"Well, it says until they are white... but they are already white... so I didn't really know what that meant... I just beat them a bit... till they were all milky. Milky white!..."
[note: old habits die hard... even after the Queen is not the queen, she will still be the "queen" just as Chef will always be Chef... ]
I am an embarrassment to the kitchen. Food, like music, is one of those things that doesn't need to get adventurous (re: I listen to the same CD over and over until it is rendered completely useless). Once you perfect a dish there is no need to get to crazy perfecting more. I am a whiz a lasagna, having made it for every dinner party, potluck, etc for the last 8 years.
I was meditating over this the other day, absently kneading pizza dough to make calzones.. no wait! Calzones? Since when do can I make Calzones?
And in Japan of all places! Shouldn't I be making sushi? Perfecting the art of slicing Sashimi just so?
Perhaps it is in the absence of all my favourite restaurants and food that I have stumbled upon this new-found passion. Then again, I HAVE been working in the restaurant industry since I was 16...
Whether from bereavement or scarcity, I am a chef!
Monday 5 November 2007
Wish List
What with the upcoming holidays, and all the fun and madness that ensues, a "wish list" request has been made. So here it goes (from small to big ;) )
- Stickers! Any stickers are great.
The kids love them more than i can even put into words. Especially the really weird ones "Obeika!" (ie. how Western!). But the smiley faces are a raging success as well as Christmas themed ones for the upcoming season :)
- Smarties and other lovely Canadian candies - especially Jelly Beans! oh, and oh henry!
(Monica and I are making Gingerbread houses, so the more fun stuff the merrier!)
- Denman Island dark chocolate
- Tazu Tea
- Tim Horton's hot chocolate mix! mmmm
- chocolate chips!!! (they just dont make em here like they do back home!)
- "Decadent" cookies or Chunks Ahoy
- long sleeved t-shirts (size M), sweaters, or anything!
- magazines- anything from teen mags to cooking would be great!
-on the heavier end of things... Books! English books pleaseeeeeee!
- Sophies World
- Time Travelers Wife
- Bill Bryson literature
- The art of motorcycle maintenance
- the last harry potter
- Abe Kobo literature (The ruined map, the face of another)
- Salinger's, Zooey and Franny
- movies- especially animation for the junior high kids, new movies that we cant get here yet; The red violin, A Christmas story, Home Alone.... Shrek
I can't think of anything else now, but will keep an update on the list!
THANK YOU!
- Stickers! Any stickers are great.
The kids love them more than i can even put into words. Especially the really weird ones "Obeika!" (ie. how Western!). But the smiley faces are a raging success as well as Christmas themed ones for the upcoming season :)
- Smarties and other lovely Canadian candies - especially Jelly Beans! oh, and oh henry!
(Monica and I are making Gingerbread houses, so the more fun stuff the merrier!)
- Denman Island dark chocolate
- Tazu Tea
- Tim Horton's hot chocolate mix! mmmm
- chocolate chips!!! (they just dont make em here like they do back home!)
- "Decadent" cookies or Chunks Ahoy
- long sleeved t-shirts (size M), sweaters, or anything!
- magazines- anything from teen mags to cooking would be great!
-on the heavier end of things... Books! English books pleaseeeeeee!
- Sophies World
- Time Travelers Wife
- Bill Bryson literature
- The art of motorcycle maintenance
- the last harry potter
- Abe Kobo literature (The ruined map, the face of another)
- Salinger's, Zooey and Franny
- movies- especially animation for the junior high kids, new movies that we cant get here yet; The red violin, A Christmas story, Home Alone.... Shrek
I can't think of anything else now, but will keep an update on the list!
THANK YOU!
Thursday 1 November 2007
Autumn
I've uploaded some new photos from all the fall activities that have been going on to http://zoesen.spaces.live.com.
Taiko Drumming:
Halloween
And....
Halloween
Cosmos Festival in Ochi
Undokai in Niyodogawa
And....
Cooking Class in Agawa
Thursday 25 October 2007
Action Packed Adventures for the whole family!
The world is moving so fast these days that the one who says it can't be done is generally interrupted by someone doing it.
Harry Emerson Fosdick
Life is busy! Really busy!
And it is (ironically) in all that busyness, that a sense of concord has settled around me. I suppose it has a great deal to do with a sense of purpose and place and settling in; which says something in and of itself. It just may be that Japan is growing on me in more ways than I could ever have imagined!
One of the most interesting things about “settling in” here in Niyodogawa is the way my students are relating to me. Though there is still a language barrier between us, my Junior high students have taken to poking and prodding me, which is pretty acute communication. Especially from the boys, who – in their desperation to communicate on any level (this is what I tell myself to rationalize it all), poked me in the side and said something along the lines of “it’s squishy!”
What do you say to that!
At least it’s not as bad as the treatment Sarah got from here students “Hi Nipples!”
So, yes… touching and prodding and much attention paid to my physical appearance… How charming.
The girls are fascinated with my earrings, and for the first time I noticed how strange the concept of pierced ears are in Japan! Not even the female teachers wear earrings.
“No pain!” I insist, taking my earring out and putting it in, as the grade eight girls look like they are going to puke.
Barbaric Westerners…
No less barbaric then the celebration of Halloween, which Monica and I have been delighted to explain, using such loving props as Pin the Tail on the Black Cat, students a la Toilet Paper Mummy, and hand made masks (which were such a resounding success I actually felt BAD for the teacher who had to tame the kids excitement after I left… oops).
This Saturday I will strut my stuff as a faceless Japanese monster (Noppero Bo) downtown for the annual ALT Halloween Play (without a face, rather… not the other faceless…),. before metamorphosing into what I hope to be the best costume in Halloween History!!! (ambitions come in many forms)
But all this is eclipsed by my recent (and much impassioned) new interest in making – bra ba ba baaaaaaa- MOVIES. (Totally out of left field, I know!)
But what MAY surprise you is that I am NOT (brace yourself) the ham IN FRONT of the camera! Yeah I know! A chance to shine and I have opted for the (not so) “mundane techie stuff”!
There is an upcoming KOCHI FILM FESTIVAL in December, so I will post some of the fruits of these labors soon.
In the makings of some of these endeavors, I asked a couple people back home what they are interested in seeing about Japan, and the answers are really diverse. SO, here is your chance to vote and or suggest ideas for films, slide shows, etc:
- an all inclusive pan of sights, cities, people, sounds…
- nature walk
- strange and or outlandish Japanese idiosyncrasies
- documentary on my life, up to date
Finally! I have a Taiko Drumming debut coming up! (I have come along way from throwing Joel’s drum sticks out the window as a little girl…) I will post that video too, and the practice, for all you keeners, who are intent to master the art for yourself!
So yeah, busy!
And very much excited about all the upcoming events this fall and winter!
And, of course, write up some of the more outrageous adventures as of late, which I have had the time to do justice to!
I look forward to hearing from you!
Harry Emerson Fosdick
Life is busy! Really busy!
And it is (ironically) in all that busyness, that a sense of concord has settled around me. I suppose it has a great deal to do with a sense of purpose and place and settling in; which says something in and of itself. It just may be that Japan is growing on me in more ways than I could ever have imagined!
One of the most interesting things about “settling in” here in Niyodogawa is the way my students are relating to me. Though there is still a language barrier between us, my Junior high students have taken to poking and prodding me, which is pretty acute communication. Especially from the boys, who – in their desperation to communicate on any level (this is what I tell myself to rationalize it all), poked me in the side and said something along the lines of “it’s squishy!”
What do you say to that!
At least it’s not as bad as the treatment Sarah got from here students “Hi Nipples!”
So, yes… touching and prodding and much attention paid to my physical appearance… How charming.
The girls are fascinated with my earrings, and for the first time I noticed how strange the concept of pierced ears are in Japan! Not even the female teachers wear earrings.
“No pain!” I insist, taking my earring out and putting it in, as the grade eight girls look like they are going to puke.
Barbaric Westerners…
No less barbaric then the celebration of Halloween, which Monica and I have been delighted to explain, using such loving props as Pin the Tail on the Black Cat, students a la Toilet Paper Mummy, and hand made masks (which were such a resounding success I actually felt BAD for the teacher who had to tame the kids excitement after I left… oops).
This Saturday I will strut my stuff as a faceless Japanese monster (Noppero Bo) downtown for the annual ALT Halloween Play (without a face, rather… not the other faceless…),. before metamorphosing into what I hope to be the best costume in Halloween History!!! (ambitions come in many forms)
But all this is eclipsed by my recent (and much impassioned) new interest in making – bra ba ba baaaaaaa- MOVIES. (Totally out of left field, I know!)
But what MAY surprise you is that I am NOT (brace yourself) the ham IN FRONT of the camera! Yeah I know! A chance to shine and I have opted for the (not so) “mundane techie stuff”!
There is an upcoming KOCHI FILM FESTIVAL in December, so I will post some of the fruits of these labors soon.
In the makings of some of these endeavors, I asked a couple people back home what they are interested in seeing about Japan, and the answers are really diverse. SO, here is your chance to vote and or suggest ideas for films, slide shows, etc:
- an all inclusive pan of sights, cities, people, sounds…
- nature walk
- strange and or outlandish Japanese idiosyncrasies
- documentary on my life, up to date
Finally! I have a Taiko Drumming debut coming up! (I have come along way from throwing Joel’s drum sticks out the window as a little girl…) I will post that video too, and the practice, for all you keeners, who are intent to master the art for yourself!
So yeah, busy!
And very much excited about all the upcoming events this fall and winter!
And, of course, write up some of the more outrageous adventures as of late, which I have had the time to do justice to!
I look forward to hearing from you!
Sunday 21 October 2007
Weather Changes
Being from Victoria, a city that seems to have only two ranges in weather (rainy season warm and rainy season cold), I think that it is Japan’s four seasons that I have come to appreciate the most over this past year. The seasons here, after all, represent more than a change in the weather.
In Japan, there are two ways to note the changing of the seasons: fruit in the market and time-honored traditions (at times these are one and the same). As though on cue, at the first sign of a leaf changing colour or the heat relenting even in the slightest, supermarket shelves have an overnight metamorphosis. So it is that Summer makes an entrance with an inexhaustible supply of watermelon (suika) and peaches (momo); Autumn with pears (nishi) and apples (ringo). Psychedelic displays of oranges (mikan) and parsimmon (kaki) distinguish Winter, and with the coming of Spring the almost reverent cherry (sakura). Never before have I witnessed such an acute sense of “shelf life.” Like so many things Japanese, the shift takes place with swift and understated ease, leaving otherwise ignorant consumers (such as myself) well informed that a new season is upon us.
With the knowledge of a new season come all the many traditions that distinguish one season from the next. Overnight, the summer matsuri fireworks and Yukata (summer kimono) are replaced with Cosmos festivals and ever-intrusive gaudy Halloween paraphernalia. Blink your eyes and the rice harvest parties have come to an end and, low and behold, there is the mikan encroaching upon the nishi’s turf. Blink your eyes twice and it’s spring- with no end to hanabi parties, complete with Sake and beer, Onigiri and bento’s, whilst reclining under a soft pink spray of Sakura blossoms, composing Haiku’s an reflecting on the transience of life.
If I wasn’t already aware that autumn was here from the exuberantly priced four dollar pears in the supermarket, the flourish of activities here in Niyodogawa would otherwise enlighten me. Autumn is by far a favourite season in Japan. After the heavy typhoon rains and a humid summer, the weather is mild and the view is vibrant. It also marks one of the busiest times of the year, the least of which include school events, (Cosmos) flower festivals, Shinto celebrations (specifically, Kagura performances), rice harvests and general pre-winter preparations. Needless to say, life is busy and exciting.
The annual Undokai (sports festival) was recently held by each of the eight schools in which I teach. Each Sunday, from September to October, the students, teachers, parents and townspeople gather (rain or shine) for the biggest showdown of the year.
Allow me to set the scene:
You can hear the Undokai before you see it. Here in the mountains, the resounding instrumentals of canned-marching bands echo through the valley. The students rally onto the sandy field, knees uniformly rising at a 90 degree angle and falling again- little soldiers in the making.
Girls in white t-shirts, hands at their sides; white knee high socks and navy blue cotton shorts cut just above the knees. Matching sneakers. Boys with the choice between long pants of shorts (boys wear pants… not girls, of course). Matching shoes spaced at equal distances. The White team falls to the left and circles the field; the Red team mirrors them to the right. They come together in the center and stand rigid as the Opening Ceremonies begin.
And even the mild “tweet” of a whistle is enough of a command for everyone and they knowingly space themselves out a rigid meter apart for the well-worn warm up. The music is comedic to my foreign ears, even after having heard it at every sporting event throughout Japan over this past year. But still, even now, the hypnotic and melodic cries of “ichi, ni, san, shi…” bite into the air as poetic pirouettes, Swan-lake back-stretched arms, and elliptical overhead-stretches are shadowed by the congregation. The warm-up melody is better known than the National Anthem; each member of the congregation- young and old, fit and unfit- lift their arms and let them fall as the music rises in a staircase melody and tumbles with cacophonic conformity.
The Undokai is, in so many ways, a metaphor for Japan itself. It is taken with absolute seriousness, and yet, the events these kids participate in are some of the most ridiculous things ever imagined by human beings. If strapping a basket onto a child’s back and then sicing children armed with hackey-sac balls after him isn’t amusing, then watching four students form a human horse with their bodies so that they can charge their mount at other jousting students should be.
The staff are especially creative when it comes to PTA events: I had the pleasure of ramming myself against my male counterpart in an attempt to pop a balloon between us (yes, it is a terrible as it sounds) and then sitting on him to try and pop a second… I will stop there.
The staff and students prepare for these events for weeks on end, entertaining already amused spectators with half-time-shows ranging from dare-devil gymnastics to traditional and not so traditional Japanese dances (Monica and I were especially amused by the My Big Fat Greek Wedding-inspired dance and the Mickey Mouse club dance, to name a few).
With the Undokai celebrations out of the way, October marks the beginning of Bunkasai Culture Festival preparations (which is a hyperbole for singing one English song during the Music festival). I had the pleasure of learning and participating in the acclaimed “Momiji” serenade, a song about the changing colours of Autumn maples and the beauty in seeing a leaf caress the water as it flows downstream. If not more revered than the Sakura, the Momiji are indisputably the centerpiece of fall and deserve all the reverence they receive.
Thus a new season is upon us. The Momiji "koyo front" is slowly moving southwards from Hokkaido, shrines are fervent with activity and I find myself ever enraptured by Japan.
Because a harmonious connection with nature has always been particularly important to the Japanese, observing the distinct seasons of the year is as much apart of Japanese culture as any tradition. In many ways, as it becomes more and more infused with Western culture, it is the keeping of the customs and traditions used to observe the arrival of each season that convey the spirit and beauty of Japan.
In Japan, there are two ways to note the changing of the seasons: fruit in the market and time-honored traditions (at times these are one and the same). As though on cue, at the first sign of a leaf changing colour or the heat relenting even in the slightest, supermarket shelves have an overnight metamorphosis. So it is that Summer makes an entrance with an inexhaustible supply of watermelon (suika) and peaches (momo); Autumn with pears (nishi) and apples (ringo). Psychedelic displays of oranges (mikan) and parsimmon (kaki) distinguish Winter, and with the coming of Spring the almost reverent cherry (sakura). Never before have I witnessed such an acute sense of “shelf life.” Like so many things Japanese, the shift takes place with swift and understated ease, leaving otherwise ignorant consumers (such as myself) well informed that a new season is upon us.
With the knowledge of a new season come all the many traditions that distinguish one season from the next. Overnight, the summer matsuri fireworks and Yukata (summer kimono) are replaced with Cosmos festivals and ever-intrusive gaudy Halloween paraphernalia. Blink your eyes and the rice harvest parties have come to an end and, low and behold, there is the mikan encroaching upon the nishi’s turf. Blink your eyes twice and it’s spring- with no end to hanabi parties, complete with Sake and beer, Onigiri and bento’s, whilst reclining under a soft pink spray of Sakura blossoms, composing Haiku’s an reflecting on the transience of life.
If I wasn’t already aware that autumn was here from the exuberantly priced four dollar pears in the supermarket, the flourish of activities here in Niyodogawa would otherwise enlighten me. Autumn is by far a favourite season in Japan. After the heavy typhoon rains and a humid summer, the weather is mild and the view is vibrant. It also marks one of the busiest times of the year, the least of which include school events, (Cosmos) flower festivals, Shinto celebrations (specifically, Kagura performances), rice harvests and general pre-winter preparations. Needless to say, life is busy and exciting.
The annual Undokai (sports festival) was recently held by each of the eight schools in which I teach. Each Sunday, from September to October, the students, teachers, parents and townspeople gather (rain or shine) for the biggest showdown of the year.
Allow me to set the scene:
You can hear the Undokai before you see it. Here in the mountains, the resounding instrumentals of canned-marching bands echo through the valley. The students rally onto the sandy field, knees uniformly rising at a 90 degree angle and falling again- little soldiers in the making.
Girls in white t-shirts, hands at their sides; white knee high socks and navy blue cotton shorts cut just above the knees. Matching sneakers. Boys with the choice between long pants of shorts (boys wear pants… not girls, of course). Matching shoes spaced at equal distances. The White team falls to the left and circles the field; the Red team mirrors them to the right. They come together in the center and stand rigid as the Opening Ceremonies begin.
And even the mild “tweet” of a whistle is enough of a command for everyone and they knowingly space themselves out a rigid meter apart for the well-worn warm up. The music is comedic to my foreign ears, even after having heard it at every sporting event throughout Japan over this past year. But still, even now, the hypnotic and melodic cries of “ichi, ni, san, shi…” bite into the air as poetic pirouettes, Swan-lake back-stretched arms, and elliptical overhead-stretches are shadowed by the congregation. The warm-up melody is better known than the National Anthem; each member of the congregation- young and old, fit and unfit- lift their arms and let them fall as the music rises in a staircase melody and tumbles with cacophonic conformity.
The Undokai is, in so many ways, a metaphor for Japan itself. It is taken with absolute seriousness, and yet, the events these kids participate in are some of the most ridiculous things ever imagined by human beings. If strapping a basket onto a child’s back and then sicing children armed with hackey-sac balls after him isn’t amusing, then watching four students form a human horse with their bodies so that they can charge their mount at other jousting students should be.
The staff are especially creative when it comes to PTA events: I had the pleasure of ramming myself against my male counterpart in an attempt to pop a balloon between us (yes, it is a terrible as it sounds) and then sitting on him to try and pop a second… I will stop there.
The staff and students prepare for these events for weeks on end, entertaining already amused spectators with half-time-shows ranging from dare-devil gymnastics to traditional and not so traditional Japanese dances (Monica and I were especially amused by the My Big Fat Greek Wedding-inspired dance and the Mickey Mouse club dance, to name a few).
With the Undokai celebrations out of the way, October marks the beginning of Bunkasai Culture Festival preparations (which is a hyperbole for singing one English song during the Music festival). I had the pleasure of learning and participating in the acclaimed “Momiji” serenade, a song about the changing colours of Autumn maples and the beauty in seeing a leaf caress the water as it flows downstream. If not more revered than the Sakura, the Momiji are indisputably the centerpiece of fall and deserve all the reverence they receive.
Thus a new season is upon us. The Momiji "koyo front" is slowly moving southwards from Hokkaido, shrines are fervent with activity and I find myself ever enraptured by Japan.
Because a harmonious connection with nature has always been particularly important to the Japanese, observing the distinct seasons of the year is as much apart of Japanese culture as any tradition. In many ways, as it becomes more and more infused with Western culture, it is the keeping of the customs and traditions used to observe the arrival of each season that convey the spirit and beauty of Japan.
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