Yesterday, I had a teeny tiny hamburger for dinner. On Thursday, I had chicken. Wednesday night was ramen and Tuesday was tempura. And on Monday, I ate a turtle.
In continuation of their noble quest to introduce their favorite gaijin to all manner of exotic Japanese cuisine, the softball men took me out to eat snapping turtle on Monday night. I generally enjoy meat, probably because in most American dishes the meat is prepared so that it no longer looks anything like the animal it came from. But the turtle was a little bit different.
Cooking a turtle Japanese style seems quite simple, actually. Feel free to take a moment to add this to your own repertoire of 30 minute meals if you like. It looks to me like you catch the turtle (20 min.), stick it in a pot (30 sec.), throw in some vegetables and seasoning (30 sec.), boil (9 min.) and serve. You don't have to clean the turtle or anything, and every single bit of it is edible. Pretty cool, eh?
Our shortstop wasted no time in fishing the turtle's head out of the pot and putting it on my plate. I wasn't too excited about eating the head, but fortunately I was able to trade with the girl sitting next to me for a hand instead. In case you're wondering, the meat tasted like a combination of fish and chicken. It wasn't bad, but I'm not sure that I would go out of my way to eat it again.
While I was congratulating myself on successfully downing the hand, the chef brought out glasses filled with some sort of red liquid. The softball men eagerly informed me that the red stuff was a mixture of turtle blood and sake. If sticking the turtle's hand in my mouth was a bit unsettling, drinking its blood seemed almost barbaric, but the old men insisted that I give it a try, so I took a sip. Of course, it really didn't taste like blood at all -- just alcohol. I asked the softball men why they didn't drink straight sake instead, and they told me that turtle blood is supposed to be very good for your health. I certainly hope so.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Monday, December 04, 2006
Medical Engrish (Part II)
Oh yes, I almost forgot. When I am not galavanting around pretending to be a Japanese pop star, I still teach English at the medical school. In the last few weeks, I've received some truly brilliant responses on homework assignments which I will now post here for your reading pleasure.
1) Please express the following symptoms in complete sentences.
足が痺れている(leg/numbness): My leg is numbnessing.
背中の痛み (back pain): My bag is painful. / My back is bounding.
便秘 (constipation) I am constipation.
胸がぎゅっと痛む (tightness in chest) My heart is attached hardly.
2) Please ask the patient how long he has been experiencing the symptoms below.
背中の痛み (back pain): How long have you been a backache?
3) Please create a short conversation between a doctor and a patient.
Doctor: What seems to be the trouble today?
Patient: Well, I have giddiness.
Doctor: Does the giddiness come at a certain time or while you are doing a certain activity?
Doctor: Perhaps, I am afraid you must take. [surgery]
Patient: Oh No! I dislike operations and I do not want to shave my hair...
Doctor: I can understand your mind. But it affects your life.
Doctor and Patient: ...
~Suddenly the patient smiled~
Patient: Let it be! Whatever will be, will be!
1) Please express the following symptoms in complete sentences.
足が痺れている(leg/numbness): My leg is numbnessing.
背中の痛み (back pain): My bag is painful. / My back is bounding.
便秘 (constipation) I am constipation.
胸がぎゅっと痛む (tightness in chest) My heart is attached hardly.
2) Please ask the patient how long he has been experiencing the symptoms below.
背中の痛み (back pain): How long have you been a backache?
3) Please create a short conversation between a doctor and a patient.
Doctor: What seems to be the trouble today?
Patient: Well, I have giddiness.
Doctor: Does the giddiness come at a certain time or while you are doing a certain activity?
-----
Doctor: Perhaps, I am afraid you must take. [surgery]
Patient: Oh No! I dislike operations and I do not want to shave my hair...
Doctor: I can understand your mind. But it affects your life.
Doctor and Patient: ...
~Suddenly the patient smiled~
Patient: Let it be! Whatever will be, will be!
アイドル-ized
For the last few weeks, I have used the Nodo Jiman ("Japanese Idol") audition as the perfect excuse to waltz around my apartment singing at the top of my lungs. It really has been beautiful. (Actually, come to think of it, before this whole audition business came up, I sang all the time anyway, but that's beside the point.) Anyway, on November 19th, Tyler and I finally went to the NHK television studio for the audition, and it was every bit as entertaining as I had expected.
Our audition group consisted of contestants number 71 through 100, and since Tyler and I were numbers 99 and 100, we had to wait until the very end to sing. Fortunately, I had no time to get nervous, because I had to figure out how to fill out a rather exhaustive questionnaire about myself in Japanese. (Perhaps the hardest question was: Tell us about something exciting that has happened in your household lately. As a single gaijin living alone in an apartment in the middle of nowhere, I had a bit of trouble figuring out what to write for this one. Then again, I suppose the question probably was not aimed at my demographic. :)
After most people had finished the questionnaire (I was still working on translating Tyler's by then...hurt my brain a little bit...), we were all ushered into a big room and told to sit in a couple rows of chairs in the back. The director explained how the audition would work, and then one by one, each of us walked up to the front of the room and sang about a minute or so of our songs to a karaoke accompaniment.
Nodo Jiman actually seems to be quite a bit different from American Idol. For one thing, each contestant only appears on the show for one episode, not the whole season. Also, if you win your particular episode, you don't get a recording deal -- you just get a little trophy and the satisfaction of having done well. This means that the people who audition for the show are a bit different from the average American Idol contestant. Sure, I saw quite a few aspiring pop-divas at the studio, but there were also at least ten 70 or 80 year olds at the audition. They were all very cute and earnest, especially one poor man who forgot the words to his song in the middle and apologized profusely to the judges. Poor guy. Fortunately, they were very nice to him. "Japanese Idol" does not appear to have a Simon Cowell.
On the other end of the spectrum was a group of high school girls who dressed up in bright yellow cheerleader uniforms and did the peppiest dance I have ever seen to the Japanese version of Mickey. (Yes, the one that goes, "Hey Mickey, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind. Hey Mickey!") And then there was the group of three housewives who sang a song called UFO. They had attached pipe-cleaner antennae to their heads, presumably to look like space aliens (???), and had choreographed a rather elaborate dance just about as jaw-droppingly cutsy as the cheerleaders'...except that they were middle aged ladies. Truly amazing. I really can't do their dance justice here, so here's hoping that they make it to the TV show so that I can show you a recording.
By the time Tyler and I finally sang, almost all of the other contestants had already left, so it was just us, a few stragglers, two cameramen, and a few important looking NHK people wearing suits. Tyler sang a nice rendition of Let it Be by the Beatles. (He was disappointed afterwards because he got a little tongue-tied in the middle, but since the song was in English, I highly doubt that anyone noticed besides me.) I thought he was quite good.
For my song, I chose Warabigami, a lullaby by an Okinawan artist called Rimi Natsukawa. I had debated whether to sing in English or Japanese, but finally decided that I would gamble and go for the Holy-cow-it's-a-gaijin-singing-in-Japanese Surprise Factor. On the day of the audition, I had been coughing all morning, so I was kind of worried that I would start hacking in the middle and make a fool of myself, but fortunately, by the time it was my turn to sing, the tickle in my throat was pretty much gone and I was able to relax. It really was one of those days where the notes popped right out and singing felt effortless and fun. I felt really lucky. Standing in the lights at the front of the room, I couldn't really see the judges' faces, but Tyler said that they seemed really surprised to hear me singing in Japanese. Mission accomplished. After a short interview with the judges, I left the TV studio feeling pretty nice. I love to sing.
The director of Nodo Jiman told us that the NHK would call us with the results of the audition sometime after November 28th. In the meantime, Tyler and I set off to Osaka and Kyoto for the long weekend to meet friends and see the pretty autumn leaves. The leaves really were gorgeous -- unfortunately, my camera is broken so I wasn't able to take any pictures, but Tyler took lots so maybe I can post his sometime. My host family was doing well (my host mom had new front teeth!) and they fed us lots and lots of beautiful food. The professor who I worked with last summer also took us out for Korean style barbecue beef. mmmm...I could talk about the beautiful food forever, but I'll spare you the food stories for now and move on with this entry.
One night while we were at Kiyomizudera, a famous temple in Kyoto, I got a phone call on my cell. The man on the other end said, "Hi, my name is Watanabe. I met you at the Autumn Festival in Shigenobu. Do you remember me?" I do in fact remember meeting about fifteen people named Watanabe at the Autumn Festival, but unfortunately, I had no idea which one this mystery caller was. (Watanabe is about as common as Smith is in America, I think.) Anyway, I said that I remembered him since it was sort of half true, and he said, "There's this guy named Takeshi who wants to meet you. He's heard so much about you. Are you free next week?"
Hmmm, I thought, Takeshi?? Takeshi??...Who is Takeshi?...Is Mystery-Watanabe-san trying to set me up on a blind date with a random Japanese guy? What?! How interesting... I was super confused, but finally just told Mystery-Watanabe-san that I was out of town at the moment and would check my schedule later and get back to him.
The next Monday, I found two messages on my phone from Mystery-Watanabe-san and Takeshi. As soon as I heard the beginning of Takeshi's message, I realized that he was the hip 60-something Shinto Priest/Jazz Pianist from the festival. He actually wanted to see me because he had heard (from who??) that I am a singer and wanted me to come perform with his combo at a concert in December. The other day, I went over to his house to practice, and he was very impressed with my good English pronunciation. (heh. Yes, as long as you can speak English and carry a tune, you too can become a pop star in Japan.) Anyway, I'm apparently going to be singing at a club in Matsuyama on Friday night with the Shinto priest's combo. Step two of my journey to Japanese Pop-Stardom completed.
November 28th came and went with no phone call from the NHK, so I figured that I must not have passed the audition. Since the NHK had said that they would only take six out of the one hundred auditionees, I wasn't too down, although it would have been fun to be on TV in a foreign country. But two days later, I checked my cell phone messages on the way to a lesson and found one from the NHK. At first I thought they were calling just to thank me for auditioning, but halfway through the message, I realized that I had been picked for the TV show.
At this point, I was by myself, walking through the shopping arcades in Matsuyama. You wanna know what happens to a gaijin when she receives ridiculously funny news in the middle of the city and has no one to tell? Well, let me tell you. For about half an hour, the whole world became a musical. If I had been wearing a hat, I probably would have thrown it into the air and spun around in a circle like Mary Tyler Moore. If I had been able to dance, I probably would have tap-danced down the shopping arcade. But unfortunately, neither of these applied to me, and so I sort of smiled and hummed to myself while walking briskly...Not quite as fun as one of those big dance numbers, but oh well. (Oh, if only the world was a musical...have I mentioned that I love to sing?)
Funny stories really are not very exciting when you have no one to tell them to. So the next morning, when I ran into a friend of mine on the way to work, I mentioned the Nodo Jiman story to her. She must have thought that this was fabulous news, because seriously within thirty minutes, three other people called me to ask about the show. Everyone really does know everyone here, I think. My town is hysterical.
Incidentally, I will probably only sing on TV for about one minute. Sadly, I doubt that this will be enough to boost me to true Japanese pop-stardom, but that's ok. I'm really just excited to have the chance to sing. :D
Our audition group consisted of contestants number 71 through 100, and since Tyler and I were numbers 99 and 100, we had to wait until the very end to sing. Fortunately, I had no time to get nervous, because I had to figure out how to fill out a rather exhaustive questionnaire about myself in Japanese. (Perhaps the hardest question was: Tell us about something exciting that has happened in your household lately. As a single gaijin living alone in an apartment in the middle of nowhere, I had a bit of trouble figuring out what to write for this one. Then again, I suppose the question probably was not aimed at my demographic. :)
After most people had finished the questionnaire (I was still working on translating Tyler's by then...hurt my brain a little bit...), we were all ushered into a big room and told to sit in a couple rows of chairs in the back. The director explained how the audition would work, and then one by one, each of us walked up to the front of the room and sang about a minute or so of our songs to a karaoke accompaniment.
Nodo Jiman actually seems to be quite a bit different from American Idol. For one thing, each contestant only appears on the show for one episode, not the whole season. Also, if you win your particular episode, you don't get a recording deal -- you just get a little trophy and the satisfaction of having done well. This means that the people who audition for the show are a bit different from the average American Idol contestant. Sure, I saw quite a few aspiring pop-divas at the studio, but there were also at least ten 70 or 80 year olds at the audition. They were all very cute and earnest, especially one poor man who forgot the words to his song in the middle and apologized profusely to the judges. Poor guy. Fortunately, they were very nice to him. "Japanese Idol" does not appear to have a Simon Cowell.
On the other end of the spectrum was a group of high school girls who dressed up in bright yellow cheerleader uniforms and did the peppiest dance I have ever seen to the Japanese version of Mickey. (Yes, the one that goes, "Hey Mickey, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind. Hey Mickey!") And then there was the group of three housewives who sang a song called UFO. They had attached pipe-cleaner antennae to their heads, presumably to look like space aliens (???), and had choreographed a rather elaborate dance just about as jaw-droppingly cutsy as the cheerleaders'...except that they were middle aged ladies. Truly amazing. I really can't do their dance justice here, so here's hoping that they make it to the TV show so that I can show you a recording.
By the time Tyler and I finally sang, almost all of the other contestants had already left, so it was just us, a few stragglers, two cameramen, and a few important looking NHK people wearing suits. Tyler sang a nice rendition of Let it Be by the Beatles. (He was disappointed afterwards because he got a little tongue-tied in the middle, but since the song was in English, I highly doubt that anyone noticed besides me.) I thought he was quite good.
For my song, I chose Warabigami, a lullaby by an Okinawan artist called Rimi Natsukawa. I had debated whether to sing in English or Japanese, but finally decided that I would gamble and go for the Holy-cow-it's-a-gaijin-singing-in-Japanese Surprise Factor. On the day of the audition, I had been coughing all morning, so I was kind of worried that I would start hacking in the middle and make a fool of myself, but fortunately, by the time it was my turn to sing, the tickle in my throat was pretty much gone and I was able to relax. It really was one of those days where the notes popped right out and singing felt effortless and fun. I felt really lucky. Standing in the lights at the front of the room, I couldn't really see the judges' faces, but Tyler said that they seemed really surprised to hear me singing in Japanese. Mission accomplished. After a short interview with the judges, I left the TV studio feeling pretty nice. I love to sing.
The director of Nodo Jiman told us that the NHK would call us with the results of the audition sometime after November 28th. In the meantime, Tyler and I set off to Osaka and Kyoto for the long weekend to meet friends and see the pretty autumn leaves. The leaves really were gorgeous -- unfortunately, my camera is broken so I wasn't able to take any pictures, but Tyler took lots so maybe I can post his sometime. My host family was doing well (my host mom had new front teeth!) and they fed us lots and lots of beautiful food. The professor who I worked with last summer also took us out for Korean style barbecue beef. mmmm...I could talk about the beautiful food forever, but I'll spare you the food stories for now and move on with this entry.
One night while we were at Kiyomizudera, a famous temple in Kyoto, I got a phone call on my cell. The man on the other end said, "Hi, my name is Watanabe. I met you at the Autumn Festival in Shigenobu. Do you remember me?" I do in fact remember meeting about fifteen people named Watanabe at the Autumn Festival, but unfortunately, I had no idea which one this mystery caller was. (Watanabe is about as common as Smith is in America, I think.) Anyway, I said that I remembered him since it was sort of half true, and he said, "There's this guy named Takeshi who wants to meet you. He's heard so much about you. Are you free next week?"
Hmmm, I thought, Takeshi?? Takeshi??...Who is Takeshi?...Is Mystery-Watanabe-san trying to set me up on a blind date with a random Japanese guy? What?! How interesting... I was super confused, but finally just told Mystery-Watanabe-san that I was out of town at the moment and would check my schedule later and get back to him.
The next Monday, I found two messages on my phone from Mystery-Watanabe-san and Takeshi. As soon as I heard the beginning of Takeshi's message, I realized that he was the hip 60-something Shinto Priest/Jazz Pianist from the festival. He actually wanted to see me because he had heard (from who??) that I am a singer and wanted me to come perform with his combo at a concert in December. The other day, I went over to his house to practice, and he was very impressed with my good English pronunciation. (heh. Yes, as long as you can speak English and carry a tune, you too can become a pop star in Japan.) Anyway, I'm apparently going to be singing at a club in Matsuyama on Friday night with the Shinto priest's combo. Step two of my journey to Japanese Pop-Stardom completed.
November 28th came and went with no phone call from the NHK, so I figured that I must not have passed the audition. Since the NHK had said that they would only take six out of the one hundred auditionees, I wasn't too down, although it would have been fun to be on TV in a foreign country. But two days later, I checked my cell phone messages on the way to a lesson and found one from the NHK. At first I thought they were calling just to thank me for auditioning, but halfway through the message, I realized that I had been picked for the TV show.
At this point, I was by myself, walking through the shopping arcades in Matsuyama. You wanna know what happens to a gaijin when she receives ridiculously funny news in the middle of the city and has no one to tell? Well, let me tell you. For about half an hour, the whole world became a musical. If I had been wearing a hat, I probably would have thrown it into the air and spun around in a circle like Mary Tyler Moore. If I had been able to dance, I probably would have tap-danced down the shopping arcade. But unfortunately, neither of these applied to me, and so I sort of smiled and hummed to myself while walking briskly...Not quite as fun as one of those big dance numbers, but oh well. (Oh, if only the world was a musical...have I mentioned that I love to sing?)
Funny stories really are not very exciting when you have no one to tell them to. So the next morning, when I ran into a friend of mine on the way to work, I mentioned the Nodo Jiman story to her. She must have thought that this was fabulous news, because seriously within thirty minutes, three other people called me to ask about the show. Everyone really does know everyone here, I think. My town is hysterical.
Incidentally, I will probably only sing on TV for about one minute. Sadly, I doubt that this will be enough to boost me to true Japanese pop-stardom, but that's ok. I'm really just excited to have the chance to sing. :D
Thursday, November 09, 2006
お久しぶり
Hello again, how have you all been? So much has happened in the last couple of weeks that I've had a ton to write about, but no time to post. :( Anyway, at long last, here's a little update, starting with the most exciting development of all:
-- My pink toilet paper ran out last week, so I was finally able to replace it with white. As pink is against my principles, you can imagine that this was quite a relief for me.
-- Tyler and I finally convinced Ikuko (our boss) to allow us to use Office of Medical English funds to fix up our old old apartments. Two weeks ago, we ordered new washing machines, which are probably the most beautiful things I have ever seen. (The old washing machine was beginning to try my patience a bit, since my clothes actually came out dirtier after I washed them.)
Yesterday, I also installed some weatherstripping in the inch-wide crack between my sliding glass doors. (Apparently, one of the previous English teachers installed the apartment's air conditioning unit himself. This would have been a delightfully wonderful idea except for the fact that he fed the air conditioner's hose out through the door leaving a gigantic crack. I guess that since a tenant installed the air conditioner, the landlord was not responsible for the gaping hole in the door, so I have taken it upon myself to ensure that I do not freeze to death from the draft.) Now that the hole is plugged up and I've dragged a couple space heaters out of the closet, it's reasonably comfortable in my apartment at night, but I still definitely prefer central heating. :(
-- I've recently decided that I will abandon my plans to become a doctor in favor of becoming a Japanese pop star. Now, don't laugh -- it's actually not quite as impossible as you think. You see, in just two short months in Japan, I have already managed to make an appearance on Japanese TV.
My journey towards stardom began several weeks ago when one of the professors at the medical school mentioned me to the director of a local amateur jazz orchestra. The director (or as they call him in Japanese, the band mastaa) was apparently really excited to meet me, and wrote me a letter in super polite Japanese, which went something like this: If you would do our humble band the great honor of playing the third trombone part at our upcoming concert, we would be eternally grateful. The letter was actually so polite that I could barely understand it, but at any rate, I went to meet the band and ended up playing in the concert after just one rehearsal with the group.
It just so happened that during my one and only rehearsal with the band, a camera crew from the prefectural television station came by. I think they wanted to film the band and interview the band mastaa to advertise for some kind of local jazz festival. But naturally, the camera man found the lone foreign band member much more fascinating than the band mastaa, and spent a considerable amount of time filming me. I didn't end up seeing the TV spot, but some of my private lessons students told me this week that they saw me on the Friday evening news playing my trombone.
Now, you may be thinking, er...that's really fabulous, but a fifteen second spot on the news isn't exactly going to lead to instant stardom... but actually, dear readers, there is more. A few weeks ago, one of my private students suggested that Tyler and I send in entry forms to Nodo Jiman (のど自慢), the Japanese equivalent of American Idol. Since zillions of people attempt to appear on this show, I really didn't think that I had much of a shot, but I sent in the form anyway just for the heck of it.
This Monday, Tyler and I both got postcards back from Nodo Jiman asking us to sing at an audition a week from Sunday. Supposedly, the 100 auditionees were selected at random, but I find this a bit hard to believe, since Tyler is number 99 and I am number 100. I take this as a sign that we are destined to become wildly popular gaijin superstars.
Actually, only six people out of 100 will pass on to the next round and appear on TV, so I'm not exactly counting on making it to the show. But I imagine that the audition itself will be hilarious, and I will most definitely write another entry about it in a couple weeks, so stick around. :)
-- My private lesson with the dreaded Health Center class was rather interesting last night. I started off the lesson by asking the students what they had done last week, and here's what transpired:
Sweet Japanese lady who almost never speaks during class: ...I gotto....married.
Me: Oh, really?! You got married?! That's wonderful. Congratulations!!
Sweet: (smiles broadly and switches to Japanese) Actually, we're going to have the ceremony in January, but we went to City Hall to sign the papers last week. And uh, we're going to have a baby.
Everyone else: Oh, wow. Congratulations! That's so great! (Long conversation in mad Japanese about baby boys and girls, wedding dresses, kimonos, hotels, Sweet's husband, her career plans, etc.)
Me: (switching back to English) Wow, that's really great. I'm so happy for you. I'll bet no one else has a better story than that. (everyone laughs and Dr. O raises his hand)
Dr. O: My wife ando I aaa gettingu a divorce.
Everyone: ...
Me: Er, uh....oh. Really? Well, gee, um....I hope that you guys can talk...and um...
Sweet: (looks at me) What izu dibosu?
Me: Er, divorce? It's 離婚.
Sweet: (looks down at the table away from Dr. O, who happens to be sitting right next to her)
Dr. O: Yes, um, my wife went back to her parents' house in Ouzu yesterday.
Me: Oh...uh..hmm....
Ms. H: (hastily jumps in in mad Japanese) Ouzu? Oh really? Well, how about that. I'm from Ouzu and I went to Ouzu High School, and uh...would you believe this? The guy who invented the blue ray diode went to my high school.
Everyone: (looking back up from the table) Oh, is that so? The blue ray diode? How impressive. (A crazy Japanese conversation about diodes and things ensues as everyone tries to avoid looking at Dr. O)
Awkward.
-- My pink toilet paper ran out last week, so I was finally able to replace it with white. As pink is against my principles, you can imagine that this was quite a relief for me.
-- Tyler and I finally convinced Ikuko (our boss) to allow us to use Office of Medical English funds to fix up our old old apartments. Two weeks ago, we ordered new washing machines, which are probably the most beautiful things I have ever seen. (The old washing machine was beginning to try my patience a bit, since my clothes actually came out dirtier after I washed them.)
Yesterday, I also installed some weatherstripping in the inch-wide crack between my sliding glass doors. (Apparently, one of the previous English teachers installed the apartment's air conditioning unit himself. This would have been a delightfully wonderful idea except for the fact that he fed the air conditioner's hose out through the door leaving a gigantic crack. I guess that since a tenant installed the air conditioner, the landlord was not responsible for the gaping hole in the door, so I have taken it upon myself to ensure that I do not freeze to death from the draft.) Now that the hole is plugged up and I've dragged a couple space heaters out of the closet, it's reasonably comfortable in my apartment at night, but I still definitely prefer central heating. :(
-- I've recently decided that I will abandon my plans to become a doctor in favor of becoming a Japanese pop star. Now, don't laugh -- it's actually not quite as impossible as you think. You see, in just two short months in Japan, I have already managed to make an appearance on Japanese TV.
My journey towards stardom began several weeks ago when one of the professors at the medical school mentioned me to the director of a local amateur jazz orchestra. The director (or as they call him in Japanese, the band mastaa) was apparently really excited to meet me, and wrote me a letter in super polite Japanese, which went something like this: If you would do our humble band the great honor of playing the third trombone part at our upcoming concert, we would be eternally grateful. The letter was actually so polite that I could barely understand it, but at any rate, I went to meet the band and ended up playing in the concert after just one rehearsal with the group.
It just so happened that during my one and only rehearsal with the band, a camera crew from the prefectural television station came by. I think they wanted to film the band and interview the band mastaa to advertise for some kind of local jazz festival. But naturally, the camera man found the lone foreign band member much more fascinating than the band mastaa, and spent a considerable amount of time filming me. I didn't end up seeing the TV spot, but some of my private lessons students told me this week that they saw me on the Friday evening news playing my trombone.
Now, you may be thinking, er...that's really fabulous, but a fifteen second spot on the news isn't exactly going to lead to instant stardom... but actually, dear readers, there is more. A few weeks ago, one of my private students suggested that Tyler and I send in entry forms to Nodo Jiman (のど自慢), the Japanese equivalent of American Idol. Since zillions of people attempt to appear on this show, I really didn't think that I had much of a shot, but I sent in the form anyway just for the heck of it.
This Monday, Tyler and I both got postcards back from Nodo Jiman asking us to sing at an audition a week from Sunday. Supposedly, the 100 auditionees were selected at random, but I find this a bit hard to believe, since Tyler is number 99 and I am number 100. I take this as a sign that we are destined to become wildly popular gaijin superstars.
Actually, only six people out of 100 will pass on to the next round and appear on TV, so I'm not exactly counting on making it to the show. But I imagine that the audition itself will be hilarious, and I will most definitely write another entry about it in a couple weeks, so stick around. :)
-- My private lesson with the dreaded Health Center class was rather interesting last night. I started off the lesson by asking the students what they had done last week, and here's what transpired:
Sweet Japanese lady who almost never speaks during class: ...I gotto....married.
Me: Oh, really?! You got married?! That's wonderful. Congratulations!!
Sweet: (smiles broadly and switches to Japanese) Actually, we're going to have the ceremony in January, but we went to City Hall to sign the papers last week. And uh, we're going to have a baby.
Everyone else: Oh, wow. Congratulations! That's so great! (Long conversation in mad Japanese about baby boys and girls, wedding dresses, kimonos, hotels, Sweet's husband, her career plans, etc.)
Me: (switching back to English) Wow, that's really great. I'm so happy for you. I'll bet no one else has a better story than that. (everyone laughs and Dr. O raises his hand)
Dr. O: My wife ando I aaa gettingu a divorce.
Everyone: ...
Me: Er, uh....oh. Really? Well, gee, um....I hope that you guys can talk...and um...
Sweet: (looks at me) What izu dibosu?
Me: Er, divorce? It's 離婚.
Sweet: (looks down at the table away from Dr. O, who happens to be sitting right next to her)
Dr. O: Yes, um, my wife went back to her parents' house in Ouzu yesterday.
Me: Oh...uh..hmm....
Ms. H: (hastily jumps in in mad Japanese) Ouzu? Oh really? Well, how about that. I'm from Ouzu and I went to Ouzu High School, and uh...would you believe this? The guy who invented the blue ray diode went to my high school.
Everyone: (looking back up from the table) Oh, is that so? The blue ray diode? How impressive. (A crazy Japanese conversation about diodes and things ensues as everyone tries to avoid looking at Dr. O)
Awkward.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Name Change
Dear readers, please note that very shortly, I shall be changing my name. Henceforth, please address all correspondences to 鈴木花子 (Hanako Suzuki).
You may be wondering how this change has come about. Let me fill you in. You see, every day I eat lunch in the medical school cafeteria, and I've had my eye on Suzuki-san, one of the guys who dishes out the rice. Suzuki-san is quite cute and scoops the rice into the bowl with such grace that I couldn't help but fall for him.
For the longest time, I'd been hoping that he would notice me, so I had been trying to look as tall and white as possible. But sadly, no matter how much I batted my eyes at him and tittered merrily with my hand over my mouth, he never seemed to notice. That is, until last week.
Last Monday, I accidentally dropped my handkerchief in front of him on my way to the tea machine. Gentleman that he is, he picked up my handkerchief and as he handed it to me, we looked into each other's eyes for the first time. Suzuki-san has gorgeous eyes, and let me tell you -- the thirty seconds I spent gazing into his eyes were like heaven. Unfortunately, just at that moment, one of the ladies behind the counter called him back to help a customer, so we had to part. But ever since that day, I've been able to tell that Suzuki-san likes me because he always puts an extra scoop of rice in my bowl.
During the past week, our relationship has really blossomed and yesterday, Suzuki-san asked me to marry him. We wanted to wait a few months to have the wedding, but in the end, I decided that I just couldn't wait a second longer to become Mrs. Suzuki. So, we giddily ran off to the nearest Shinto shrine and were married by the Shinto priest/jazz pianist, who also does a pretty impressive Elvis impersonation, I must say.
Ok, ok, just kidding. (Did I fool you?) Actually, the real reason I'll be changing my name is that it is absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to fill out forms here if your name is not Japanese. In order to get a bank account, pay my phone bill, and register for health insurance and stuff, I've had to fill out quite a few forms over the past two months. And each of these forms has been returned to me at least once with a request to write my name in roman letters/katakana/capital letters/lower-case letters/full-size characters/half-size characters/with my middle name/without my middle name... Their data entry systems must be ridiculously anal. I've never been so afraid to write my name on a form before. Anyway, to make it easier on myself, I've decided that I'm going to change my name to something more straightforward.
I wonder how many times I'll have to fill out the name change form before I find a format that they can input into their system....
You may be wondering how this change has come about. Let me fill you in. You see, every day I eat lunch in the medical school cafeteria, and I've had my eye on Suzuki-san, one of the guys who dishes out the rice. Suzuki-san is quite cute and scoops the rice into the bowl with such grace that I couldn't help but fall for him.
For the longest time, I'd been hoping that he would notice me, so I had been trying to look as tall and white as possible. But sadly, no matter how much I batted my eyes at him and tittered merrily with my hand over my mouth, he never seemed to notice. That is, until last week.
Last Monday, I accidentally dropped my handkerchief in front of him on my way to the tea machine. Gentleman that he is, he picked up my handkerchief and as he handed it to me, we looked into each other's eyes for the first time. Suzuki-san has gorgeous eyes, and let me tell you -- the thirty seconds I spent gazing into his eyes were like heaven. Unfortunately, just at that moment, one of the ladies behind the counter called him back to help a customer, so we had to part. But ever since that day, I've been able to tell that Suzuki-san likes me because he always puts an extra scoop of rice in my bowl.
During the past week, our relationship has really blossomed and yesterday, Suzuki-san asked me to marry him. We wanted to wait a few months to have the wedding, but in the end, I decided that I just couldn't wait a second longer to become Mrs. Suzuki. So, we giddily ran off to the nearest Shinto shrine and were married by the Shinto priest/jazz pianist, who also does a pretty impressive Elvis impersonation, I must say.
Ok, ok, just kidding. (Did I fool you?) Actually, the real reason I'll be changing my name is that it is absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to fill out forms here if your name is not Japanese. In order to get a bank account, pay my phone bill, and register for health insurance and stuff, I've had to fill out quite a few forms over the past two months. And each of these forms has been returned to me at least once with a request to write my name in roman letters/katakana/capital letters/lower-case letters/full-size characters/half-size characters/with my middle name/without my middle name... Their data entry systems must be ridiculously anal. I've never been so afraid to write my name on a form before. Anyway, to make it easier on myself, I've decided that I'm going to change my name to something more straightforward.
I wonder how many times I'll have to fill out the name change form before I find a format that they can input into their system....
Friday, October 13, 2006
Old Men (Part II)
Last Friday, I played in my second softball game with the old men. (And by old men, I really mean middle-aged/elderly men, but for the sake of brevity, I'll refer to them as old men here.) This time around, my teammates were apparently very curious to see me catch, so they put me behind the plate right away.
Unfortunately, they forgot to teach me any of the signs, and also neglected to tell me that one of their pitchers has some crazy breaking pitches. As a result, I spent the first three innings sticking my glove out and guessing when the pitcher would throw his rise ball. Sadly, a couple times I was just as fooled as the batter and had some pretty lame passed balls. It was a bit embarrassing.
Finally, after the third inning, I got smart and asked the pitcher about the signs, and from then on, I was able to redeem myself a bit -- blocked a couple balls in the dirt and even managed to pick a guy off of third base. I also went 1 for 2 with an RBI on a long sacrifice fly. Sorry to bore you with my stats, dear readers, but they will become important later on in this post, so please do read on.
Incidentally, last Friday was the first time I've caught a whole game in about four years, and apparently I was a bit out of shape, because I spent the next three days after the game hobbling down the steps of my apartment like an old woman. I suppose that's what I get for making fun of my teammates and calling them old men.
**Actually, I have already given up on this plan since all men in Japan are chain smokers. And that's just gross.
Unfortunately, they forgot to teach me any of the signs, and also neglected to tell me that one of their pitchers has some crazy breaking pitches. As a result, I spent the first three innings sticking my glove out and guessing when the pitcher would throw his rise ball. Sadly, a couple times I was just as fooled as the batter and had some pretty lame passed balls. It was a bit embarrassing.
Finally, after the third inning, I got smart and asked the pitcher about the signs, and from then on, I was able to redeem myself a bit -- blocked a couple balls in the dirt and even managed to pick a guy off of third base. I also went 1 for 2 with an RBI on a long sacrifice fly. Sorry to bore you with my stats, dear readers, but they will become important later on in this post, so please do read on.
Incidentally, last Friday was the first time I've caught a whole game in about four years, and apparently I was a bit out of shape, because I spent the next three days after the game hobbling down the steps of my apartment like an old woman. I suppose that's what I get for making fun of my teammates and calling them old men.
---
Last Sunday was my town's fall festival, a special event where all of the neighbors get together and pray* for a good harvest. In this particular festival, the kami, the god of a nearby Shinto shrine, is supposed to leave the shrine and enter a mikoshi, a portable shrine which looks something like this:
Then the men carry the mikoshi around the town all day, stopping at various places so that the kami can bless the rice fields and new houses and community centers and things.
Anyway, one of my private lesson students was supposed to play taiko during the festivities on Sunday, so I thought that I would drop by for a few hours or so to watch her. As it turns out, Tyler and I went together and ended up staying from 1 - 10 PM.
The minute we arrived at the festival, we instantly became the main attraction. Everyone was staring at us, all the while trying their best to be subtle. It was hilarious. As I walked through the crowd to find my private lesson student, I heard someone behind me call my name, and turned around to find half of my softball team standing there. Apparently, I have chosen to hang out with the right group of old men. They were very excited that we had come to their festival, and proceeded to shower us with food and drink and to introduce us to everyone in the town. Among the people I met were:
-- the priest at the local Shinto shrine. He was wearing his formal robes and hat, and every time the mikoshi would stop, it was his job to perform some kind of ceremony in front of it involving a pile of rice, a bottle of sake, and a stick with a holy piece of paper attached to it. He was very nice and tried to explain various parts of the festival to me. Also, apparently when he is not carrying out his priestly duties, he plays jazz piano at a club in Matsuyama. I think that I have probably met the hippest Shinto priest in all of Japan.
-- the wife of our second baseman, who very kindly invited us into her house and fed us $100+ bowls of mushroom soup. It was good soup, but I am not sure that I would pay $100 for it...
-- about fifteen different people who are all named Watanabe. Ridiculously confusing.
-- the dirty old men of the town. Actually, no one introduced me to these guys -- they just randomly sat down on either side of me at one point and started to make some sort of lewd comments in Japanese. Gross. Luckily, a couple of my teammates came to rescue me, and after that, the dirty men left me alone.
-- groups of elementary school girls who would come timidly towards us and stare at us (in admiration??). I tried speaking to them in both Japanese and English, but apparently they were so enamored with my gaijin charms that they were unable to reply.
My softball pals were particularly interested in Tyler, since they had never met him before, and immediately recruited him to carry the mikoshi around the town with them. Now, for the most part I found the festival quite charming, but I must say that this mikoshi carrying business is probably among the stupidest things I have seen in Japan.
In Shinto, sake is sacred, so at festivals it is customary for the men to drink a glass or two each time they put the mikoshi down. Since most people drink a few glasses every hour, just about everyone is as least sort of drunk, and therefore the process of carrying the mikoshi boils down to something like this: a huge mass of drunken men hoist the ~1,500 lb. mikoshi above their heads, turn around in circles three times, and then stagger down the very narrow streets, on either side of which are deep irrigation ditches. As I was watching the mikoshi, I couldn't help but wonder who thought that this would be a good idea??? I'll admit that it was entertaining, but I was also half waiting for someone to be crushed to death. :(
Besides my softball teammates, many other people from our town were very eager to talk to the two foreigners, and since Tyler doesn't know too much Japanese, I became his translator for the day. Most of our conversations went something like this:
Japanese guy: (in Japanese to Tyler) What is your name?
Tyler: ...??
Me: He wants to know your name.
Tyler: Oh, I'm Tyler.
Japanese guy: huh?
Tyler: Tyler desu. Ty-ler.
Japanese guy: Aaa, Tairaa. Naisu tsu meeto you. (to me in Japanese) Does your husband like to drink sake?
Me: Uh, er, what?? My husband? Ooohhh, haha. Tyler is not my husband. We just work together at the medical school.
Japanese guy: (chuckling) Oh, sure. Well, by the end of the year, he'll be your husband... unless I fight him for your hand. (makes punching motions at Tyler)
Tyler: ...?? (chuckles and makes punching motions back)
Me: Er, maybe, yes.
It has now been almost a week since the festival, and it has become clear to me that gossip moves at an alarming rate in my little town. I have already seen several random people from the festival in the past few days, and at least three people have pointed at me and called me "パワーヒッター" (power hitter) or "大リーグ" (major leaguer). At first I was quite confused by this and wondered if I was hearing them right, but after talking to these people, apparently my sacrifice fly last Friday has since become a myth of epic proportions around town. (I've also become famous around here for my arm, I guess. Several people have told me that I throw like an American. When I press them to elaborate, they say that they are impressed with my speed. I'm still not quite sure what to think about this. Does this mean that all Japanese people throw like pansies?)
Anyway, I am sure that by now, everyone in my town also knows about me and my gaijin "husband." I am quite frustrated about this, since it will surely ruin my plans to become a trophy wife for a kind, young, wealthy, attractive Japanese man.**
*Religion in Japan is really complicated, but basically, people here are not super attached to any one doctrine -- most people seem to adhere to both Shinto and Buddhist customs whenever it suits them. So keep in mind that the people in my town think about gods and praying and things differently than many Americans do.
Then the men carry the mikoshi around the town all day, stopping at various places so that the kami can bless the rice fields and new houses and community centers and things.
Anyway, one of my private lesson students was supposed to play taiko during the festivities on Sunday, so I thought that I would drop by for a few hours or so to watch her. As it turns out, Tyler and I went together and ended up staying from 1 - 10 PM.
The minute we arrived at the festival, we instantly became the main attraction. Everyone was staring at us, all the while trying their best to be subtle. It was hilarious. As I walked through the crowd to find my private lesson student, I heard someone behind me call my name, and turned around to find half of my softball team standing there. Apparently, I have chosen to hang out with the right group of old men. They were very excited that we had come to their festival, and proceeded to shower us with food and drink and to introduce us to everyone in the town. Among the people I met were:
-- the priest at the local Shinto shrine. He was wearing his formal robes and hat, and every time the mikoshi would stop, it was his job to perform some kind of ceremony in front of it involving a pile of rice, a bottle of sake, and a stick with a holy piece of paper attached to it. He was very nice and tried to explain various parts of the festival to me. Also, apparently when he is not carrying out his priestly duties, he plays jazz piano at a club in Matsuyama. I think that I have probably met the hippest Shinto priest in all of Japan.
-- the wife of our second baseman, who very kindly invited us into her house and fed us $100+ bowls of mushroom soup. It was good soup, but I am not sure that I would pay $100 for it...
-- about fifteen different people who are all named Watanabe. Ridiculously confusing.
-- the dirty old men of the town. Actually, no one introduced me to these guys -- they just randomly sat down on either side of me at one point and started to make some sort of lewd comments in Japanese. Gross. Luckily, a couple of my teammates came to rescue me, and after that, the dirty men left me alone.
-- groups of elementary school girls who would come timidly towards us and stare at us (in admiration??). I tried speaking to them in both Japanese and English, but apparently they were so enamored with my gaijin charms that they were unable to reply.
My softball pals were particularly interested in Tyler, since they had never met him before, and immediately recruited him to carry the mikoshi around the town with them. Now, for the most part I found the festival quite charming, but I must say that this mikoshi carrying business is probably among the stupidest things I have seen in Japan.
In Shinto, sake is sacred, so at festivals it is customary for the men to drink a glass or two each time they put the mikoshi down. Since most people drink a few glasses every hour, just about everyone is as least sort of drunk, and therefore the process of carrying the mikoshi boils down to something like this: a huge mass of drunken men hoist the ~1,500 lb. mikoshi above their heads, turn around in circles three times, and then stagger down the very narrow streets, on either side of which are deep irrigation ditches. As I was watching the mikoshi, I couldn't help but wonder who thought that this would be a good idea??? I'll admit that it was entertaining, but I was also half waiting for someone to be crushed to death. :(
Besides my softball teammates, many other people from our town were very eager to talk to the two foreigners, and since Tyler doesn't know too much Japanese, I became his translator for the day. Most of our conversations went something like this:
Japanese guy: (in Japanese to Tyler) What is your name?
Tyler: ...??
Me: He wants to know your name.
Tyler: Oh, I'm Tyler.
Japanese guy: huh?
Tyler: Tyler desu. Ty-ler.
Japanese guy: Aaa, Tairaa. Naisu tsu meeto you. (to me in Japanese) Does your husband like to drink sake?
Me: Uh, er, what?? My husband? Ooohhh, haha. Tyler is not my husband. We just work together at the medical school.
Japanese guy: (chuckling) Oh, sure. Well, by the end of the year, he'll be your husband... unless I fight him for your hand. (makes punching motions at Tyler)
Tyler: ...?? (chuckles and makes punching motions back)
Me: Er, maybe, yes.
It has now been almost a week since the festival, and it has become clear to me that gossip moves at an alarming rate in my little town. I have already seen several random people from the festival in the past few days, and at least three people have pointed at me and called me "パワーヒッター" (power hitter) or "大リーグ" (major leaguer). At first I was quite confused by this and wondered if I was hearing them right, but after talking to these people, apparently my sacrifice fly last Friday has since become a myth of epic proportions around town. (I've also become famous around here for my arm, I guess. Several people have told me that I throw like an American. When I press them to elaborate, they say that they are impressed with my speed. I'm still not quite sure what to think about this. Does this mean that all Japanese people throw like pansies?)
Anyway, I am sure that by now, everyone in my town also knows about me and my gaijin "husband." I am quite frustrated about this, since it will surely ruin my plans to become a trophy wife for a kind, young, wealthy, attractive Japanese man.**
*Religion in Japan is really complicated, but basically, people here are not super attached to any one doctrine -- most people seem to adhere to both Shinto and Buddhist customs whenever it suits them. So keep in mind that the people in my town think about gods and praying and things differently than many Americans do.
**Actually, I have already given up on this plan since all men in Japan are chain smokers. And that's just gross.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Cups of Sugar, Kids, and the First Day of School
Two mornings ago, a random woman came to my door. As she introduced herself to me, I naively assumed that she was one of my neighbors dropping by to borrow a cup of sugar or something. However, now that I think about it, I should have realized that this could not possibly be the case, since a) packages of sugar here are so small and expensive that I could not possibly afford to give anyone a whole cup of sugar, and b) my neighbors are obviously scared to death of running into a foreigner on the stairs and being forced to speak English.
Anyway, thinking that this woman was my neighbor, I chatted with her in Japanese for a couple minutes. Then, after a bit, she asked me, "Do you read the Bible?" and I realized that I had made a dreadful mistake -- I had revealed to a Jehovah's Witness missionary* that I can speak Japanese.
I tried to tell the missionary that I already have a Bible, most of my family is Christian, and all that jazz, but she wouldn't take the hint. Unfortunately, I couldn't bring myself to shut the door in her face, so I endured several more minutes of her spiel, and finally, just when I was beginning to lose all hope of ever getting rid of her, she left.
I assumed that I had convinced her that I'm not a heathen, but unfortunately, she still seems to have her doubts. According to the note that I found in my mailbox tonight, it appears that she came by to visit me again this morning, but sadly, I was at work. She did, however, leave me with a bible verse written in English:
"For the living are conscious that they will die, but as for the dead, they are conscious of nothing at all, neither do they anymore have wages, because the remembrance of them has been forgotten." Ecclesiastes 9:5
Quite an uplifting little passage. Perhaps I'm missing something, but if I were going to convert someone to Christianity, this is not the bible verse I would pick....
At my private lesson with the W kids tonight, the oldest girl wanted to show me her impression of some actress in a Japanese TV commercial. After she finished, she asked me what I thought, and I told her that I thought she was very funny. Then, she smiled back at me innocently and said, "You b*tch!"
I'm pretty sure that she had no idea what she was saying, but it was still a bit shocking. I wonder what the previous teachers were saying in front of these kids....
*Don't get me wrong -- I am sure that Jehovah's Witnesses are perfectly wonderful people. I just find the whole door-to-door thing to be a little creepy. The next time I need someone to save my soul, I'll ask, ok?
Anyway, thinking that this woman was my neighbor, I chatted with her in Japanese for a couple minutes. Then, after a bit, she asked me, "Do you read the Bible?" and I realized that I had made a dreadful mistake -- I had revealed to a Jehovah's Witness missionary* that I can speak Japanese.
I tried to tell the missionary that I already have a Bible, most of my family is Christian, and all that jazz, but she wouldn't take the hint. Unfortunately, I couldn't bring myself to shut the door in her face, so I endured several more minutes of her spiel, and finally, just when I was beginning to lose all hope of ever getting rid of her, she left.
I assumed that I had convinced her that I'm not a heathen, but unfortunately, she still seems to have her doubts. According to the note that I found in my mailbox tonight, it appears that she came by to visit me again this morning, but sadly, I was at work. She did, however, leave me with a bible verse written in English:
"For the living are conscious that they will die, but as for the dead, they are conscious of nothing at all, neither do they anymore have wages, because the remembrance of them has been forgotten." Ecclesiastes 9:5
Quite an uplifting little passage. Perhaps I'm missing something, but if I were going to convert someone to Christianity, this is not the bible verse I would pick....
---
At my private lesson with the W kids tonight, the oldest girl wanted to show me her impression of some actress in a Japanese TV commercial. After she finished, she asked me what I thought, and I told her that I thought she was very funny. Then, she smiled back at me innocently and said, "You b*tch!"
I'm pretty sure that she had no idea what she was saying, but it was still a bit shocking. I wonder what the previous teachers were saying in front of these kids....
---
Since today was the first day of the semester at my college, I am now officially a Lecturer of Medical English at Ehime University. I can tell that it is going to be an interesting semester. I am in charge of two classes: the mandatory beginners' class, and the optional advanced class. The students in the advanced class are all very gung ho about learning English, so that class should be fun, but the beginning class looks to be a bit more challenging. Since all second year students have to take the beginners' class, some of them are much more enthusiastic than others. As you might expect, the students who sit in the front row are super motivated. They look up at me with bright eager eyes in a way that makes me feel glad to have chosen this noble profession. The only problem is that even though they look as if they are hanging on my every word, they never speak. Ever. Then there's the students in the middle rows, who seem a bit less enthused, but still seem to be paying attention. And finally, there's the back row kids, who look completely uninterested and sleepy, or perhaps too cool for English class.
After I was introduced to the class by the head of our department, I was on my own, speaking to this huge lecture hall full of people. Now, normally I'm fairly comfortable doing public speaking, especially in my native language, but this was a bit different. With the exception of a few people in the front row, no one moved a muscle the entire time I was speaking. I am sure that I could have told them they will be expected to read 500 pages of Dostoevsky every night and they wouldn't have flinched. Every thirty seconds, I would stop and ask, "Do you understand? Any questions??" and no one would say anything, so for awhile, I wondered if they were still alive. It was excellent. Fortunately, I did manage to make them laugh a couple times, so I think there is hope. And we played bingo. They really liked that. I think we shall play bingo every day from now on, because they will speak someday, I swear.
After I was introduced to the class by the head of our department, I was on my own, speaking to this huge lecture hall full of people. Now, normally I'm fairly comfortable doing public speaking, especially in my native language, but this was a bit different. With the exception of a few people in the front row, no one moved a muscle the entire time I was speaking. I am sure that I could have told them they will be expected to read 500 pages of Dostoevsky every night and they wouldn't have flinched. Every thirty seconds, I would stop and ask, "Do you understand? Any questions??" and no one would say anything, so for awhile, I wondered if they were still alive. It was excellent. Fortunately, I did manage to make them laugh a couple times, so I think there is hope. And we played bingo. They really liked that. I think we shall play bingo every day from now on, because they will speak someday, I swear.
*Don't get me wrong -- I am sure that Jehovah's Witnesses are perfectly wonderful people. I just find the whole door-to-door thing to be a little creepy. The next time I need someone to save my soul, I'll ask, ok?
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Party Animal
After my triumphant victory over the Health Center Class on Thursday, I went straight to a local middle school to meet up with my softball team for my first game. By the time I made it to the field, it was already the fourth inning so I had missed out on most of the game, but fortunately, the team seemed very happy to see me and made sure to put me in at third base during the very next inning. Nobody hit anything to me, so I never got to show off my mad defensive skills, but apparently the team was very impressed with my arm and quick feet. (Actually, I think their agility was much more impressive than mine -- the second baseman and shortstop were quite nimble for being in their sixties!) Also, it seems that the opposing team was very impressed with my whiteness, since I could hear people yelling very loudly, "You have a foreigner on your team??" as I stepped up to bat.
After the game, the team always goes to a nearby restaurant to hang out, so they took me along for my first welcome party in Japan. Fortunately, there are two other women on this team, so in addition to my 5+ new Japanese grandfathers, I made a couple of new girlfriends too.
Everyone was very curious about me so they asked me all sorts of questions about my family, how old I am, my job, if I have a boyfriend in Japan, if I have a boyfriend in America etc. (Oddly enough, people are very surprised when I tell them that I don't have (2) boyfriends. I have yet to figure out why. Do I look like the type of person who would have multiple boyfriends?)
They also appeared to delight in watching me try every single type of food and drink served at the restaurant. When I first sat down, someone ordered me a beer, which I politely sipped. By the time I had finished about half of my glass, everyone around me was on their third or fourth glass. They thought this was quite odd, so they proceeded to order five other different drinks and had me drink all of them at the same time so I could pick my favorite.
In the meantime, they piled my plate with noodles, chicken, clams, and some kind of squishy gelatinous thing and watched me eat. I felt a bit like I was the subject of some kind of nature show on the Discovery channel. You know, the kind where some guy with a British accent says, "Foreigners, feared predators of the African savannah, often lurk near the waterhole waiting for a stray wildebeest to approach. If we wait here now, we may just catch one feeding on her hapless prey."
Anyway, I guess I found the team just as amusing as they found me, so it was an entertaining evening. Next week, there are two games, which means that we may have the pleasure of watching each other eat on two consecutive nights.
After the game, the team always goes to a nearby restaurant to hang out, so they took me along for my first welcome party in Japan. Fortunately, there are two other women on this team, so in addition to my 5+ new Japanese grandfathers, I made a couple of new girlfriends too.
Everyone was very curious about me so they asked me all sorts of questions about my family, how old I am, my job, if I have a boyfriend in Japan, if I have a boyfriend in America etc. (Oddly enough, people are very surprised when I tell them that I don't have (2) boyfriends. I have yet to figure out why. Do I look like the type of person who would have multiple boyfriends?)
They also appeared to delight in watching me try every single type of food and drink served at the restaurant. When I first sat down, someone ordered me a beer, which I politely sipped. By the time I had finished about half of my glass, everyone around me was on their third or fourth glass. They thought this was quite odd, so they proceeded to order five other different drinks and had me drink all of them at the same time so I could pick my favorite.
In the meantime, they piled my plate with noodles, chicken, clams, and some kind of squishy gelatinous thing and watched me eat. I felt a bit like I was the subject of some kind of nature show on the Discovery channel. You know, the kind where some guy with a British accent says, "Foreigners, feared predators of the African savannah, often lurk near the waterhole waiting for a stray wildebeest to approach. If we wait here now, we may just catch one feeding on her hapless prey."
Anyway, I guess I found the team just as amusing as they found me, so it was an entertaining evening. Next week, there are two games, which means that we may have the pleasure of watching each other eat on two consecutive nights.
---
On Friday night, the anesthesiology department had a party for a doctor who is leaving to start his own practice, and for some reason, Tyler and I were invited to attend. The party was in a Korean barbecue restaurant and the food was excellent, but the atmosphere was a little odd. All of the doctors sat at one table, while we were relegated to the foreigner/secretary/gossipers' table. Unfortunately, I could only understand about half of the gossip because the secretaries were speaking in a pretty strong version of their local dialect, so I don't have anything too interesting to report here. Meanwhile, the doctors at the other table were making speeches, presumably about how much they will miss each other now that Dr. What's-his-face is leaving. I was sitting so far away that I couldn't really hear them either so I just sat and smiled and ate more beef.
After dinner, we persuaded our boss and the other secretaries to go to karaoke, and I must say that Friday night was probably the weirdest karaoke box trip that I have ever experienced, mostly because our boss and the other secretaries were a bit tipsy. I could tell this for two reasons:
1. One of the other secretaries heard me sing and then begged me to do Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On." Anyone who requests that I sing the Titanic theme must not be thinking clearly, as I'm sure it would only end badly. Very badly. Like cracked-and-bleeding-vocal-chords badly.
2. Our boss started to tell Tyler and I about how she loves construction workers with big muscles so much that she can barely speak when she sees one. This was a bit shocking, since our boss is always the model of professionalism and feminine modesty at work. Anyway, since the medical school is being renovated now, there are lots of construction workers around, so Tyler and I are planning to bring some of them into the office and help her profess her undying love to them. I wonder if she will remember that she told us this next Monday...
After dinner, we persuaded our boss and the other secretaries to go to karaoke, and I must say that Friday night was probably the weirdest karaoke box trip that I have ever experienced, mostly because our boss and the other secretaries were a bit tipsy. I could tell this for two reasons:
1. One of the other secretaries heard me sing and then begged me to do Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On." Anyone who requests that I sing the Titanic theme must not be thinking clearly, as I'm sure it would only end badly. Very badly. Like cracked-and-bleeding-vocal-chords badly.
2. Our boss started to tell Tyler and I about how she loves construction workers with big muscles so much that she can barely speak when she sees one. This was a bit shocking, since our boss is always the model of professionalism and feminine modesty at work. Anyway, since the medical school is being renovated now, there are lots of construction workers around, so Tyler and I are planning to bring some of them into the office and help her profess her undying love to them. I wonder if she will remember that she told us this next Monday...
Pretty Bugs and Bank Robberies
Thursday was my fourth private lesson with Mrs. M and the Health Center group. You may recall that during the first lesson, Mrs. M frowned at me evily and refused to speak English. Well, since her act of defiance, the class has been absolute chaos. There are six people in the class, two of whom speak almost no English, so once Mrs. M gets them started, they chatter on in Japanese forever and go off on some pretty weird tangents. I try to get them back on track, but unfortunately they don't seem too interested in listening to me. The kids I teach are better behaved, I think. :(
Anyway, last week, the Health Center class wanted to know the difference between a pedicure and a manicure, so I explained that ped(i)- is a prefix which means foot. I then proceeded to give fascinating examples of this phenomenon, including the words pedestrian, biped, millipede, and centipede. At this point, Dr. S started talking about centipedes and the group broke out into a huge discussion which went something like this (except in Japanese.)
Dr. S: So centipedes are the poisonous ones, right?
Ryu: No, no, no. Millipedes are definitely poisonous.
Dr. S: But wait, centipedes are the ones with a thousand legs, right?
Mrs. M: Yes, yes, of course. Centipedes have a thousand legs.
Ryu: Wait, are you sure abou---
Dr. S: Hey, guess what? My dictionary says that mukade are a type of centipede.
Dr. O: Mukade?! How fascinating!!
Dr. S: Yes, you know, when I was in the mountains last weekend, I saw a bunch of them. And they can be red and yellow and green and....
Dr. O: Ah, mukade...I used to catch those when I was a boy and....
Ryu: Hey guys, I think that centipedes have a hundre --
Dr. S: ...beautiful creatures, mukade. Did I tell you that they can be red and yellow and....
Me: Ahem, uh, guys?? Guys? (waving my hands weakly as they ignore me) So as I was saying, ped- means foot and....
At the end of this particular lesson, I was beginning to wonder why they even pay me, since I spent the majority of the lesson listening to them speak Japanese. So this week, I decided to make some changes.
I figured that to keep all six of them on the same page, I would need a lesson plan with a more rigid structure -- something where they would be forced to zip it and listen to each other. So I made a little game for them. I told them that there had been a bank robbery and that they were suspects. Then I gave each of them a script and interrogated them about their whereabouts on the night of the crime. Although I wrote their scripts in very simple English, I wasn't sure if they would understand well enough to actually solve the mystery, so I was a little nervous that I would get a bunch of blank stares and end up having to explain the whole thing in Japanese.
Fortunately, they all seemed to get a big kick of the whole mystery scenario, and actually sat quietly and listened to each other. Then after the interrogations, I asked them questions in English about each person's alibi. I had intended the criminal to be pretty obvious, but they talked about the suspects for quite a long time and even came up with a bunch of crazy conspiracy theories. (Of course Dr. S and Dr. O were both seen in the Denny's at 7 PM, but what if the waiters at Denny's were in on the crime too??)
All in all, they appeared to enjoy themselves and actually spoke English for the most of the lesson, so I guess my little experiment worked. Sweet. :D
The score after four lessons: Health Center Class 3, Me 1, with 48 lessons remaining. Geez, if I can think up enough scenarios to last until the end of the year, I can make my own Hardy Boys series or something.
Anyway, last week, the Health Center class wanted to know the difference between a pedicure and a manicure, so I explained that ped(i)- is a prefix which means foot. I then proceeded to give fascinating examples of this phenomenon, including the words pedestrian, biped, millipede, and centipede. At this point, Dr. S started talking about centipedes and the group broke out into a huge discussion which went something like this (except in Japanese.)
Dr. S: So centipedes are the poisonous ones, right?
Ryu: No, no, no. Millipedes are definitely poisonous.
Dr. S: But wait, centipedes are the ones with a thousand legs, right?
Mrs. M: Yes, yes, of course. Centipedes have a thousand legs.
Ryu: Wait, are you sure abou---
Dr. S: Hey, guess what? My dictionary says that mukade are a type of centipede.
Dr. O: Mukade?! How fascinating!!
Dr. S: Yes, you know, when I was in the mountains last weekend, I saw a bunch of them. And they can be red and yellow and green and....
Dr. O: Ah, mukade...I used to catch those when I was a boy and....
Ryu: Hey guys, I think that centipedes have a hundre --
Dr. S: ...beautiful creatures, mukade. Did I tell you that they can be red and yellow and....
Me: Ahem, uh, guys?? Guys? (waving my hands weakly as they ignore me) So as I was saying, ped- means foot and....
At the end of this particular lesson, I was beginning to wonder why they even pay me, since I spent the majority of the lesson listening to them speak Japanese. So this week, I decided to make some changes.
I figured that to keep all six of them on the same page, I would need a lesson plan with a more rigid structure -- something where they would be forced to zip it and listen to each other. So I made a little game for them. I told them that there had been a bank robbery and that they were suspects. Then I gave each of them a script and interrogated them about their whereabouts on the night of the crime. Although I wrote their scripts in very simple English, I wasn't sure if they would understand well enough to actually solve the mystery, so I was a little nervous that I would get a bunch of blank stares and end up having to explain the whole thing in Japanese.
Fortunately, they all seemed to get a big kick of the whole mystery scenario, and actually sat quietly and listened to each other. Then after the interrogations, I asked them questions in English about each person's alibi. I had intended the criminal to be pretty obvious, but they talked about the suspects for quite a long time and even came up with a bunch of crazy conspiracy theories. (Of course Dr. S and Dr. O were both seen in the Denny's at 7 PM, but what if the waiters at Denny's were in on the crime too??)
All in all, they appeared to enjoy themselves and actually spoke English for the most of the lesson, so I guess my little experiment worked. Sweet. :D
The score after four lessons: Health Center Class 3, Me 1, with 48 lessons remaining. Geez, if I can think up enough scenarios to last until the end of the year, I can make my own Hardy Boys series or something.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Look-Alikes
You've probably heard this story before, but humor me for a second - it's vital background information for the rest of this post.
Last year when I was in Kyoto, my parents came to visit me at the university where I was doing my internship. My professor was determined to be a good host, so he took my parents all around the school and introduced us to all of the staff. When we met the secretaries on the first floor, they took one look at my mom and said in Japanese, "Wow, she looks just like Princess Diana."
For those of you who have never seen my mom (and/or Princess Diana), behold:
I'll send a fabulous prize to anyone who can identify these pictures correctly. (Personally, I often have difficulty telling these two apart.)
The secretaries on the first floor went on to say that I look like Princess Diana too, but since the similarities between Di and me are so striking, I won't even bother to post pictures here.
Anyway, in the last few days, it has come to my attention that I am the spitting image of two other rather famous celebrities. The first is Olivia Hussey, the actress who played Juliet in Franco Zeffirelli's 1968 version of Romeo and Juliet:
Uncanny, eh?
The other celebrity is a phenom golfer from Okinawa, Miyazato Ai (宮里藍) :
I must admit that the resemblance is rather striking. It must be my Okinawan blood.
Last year when I was in Kyoto, my parents came to visit me at the university where I was doing my internship. My professor was determined to be a good host, so he took my parents all around the school and introduced us to all of the staff. When we met the secretaries on the first floor, they took one look at my mom and said in Japanese, "Wow, she looks just like Princess Diana."
For those of you who have never seen my mom (and/or Princess Diana), behold:
I'll send a fabulous prize to anyone who can identify these pictures correctly. (Personally, I often have difficulty telling these two apart.)
The secretaries on the first floor went on to say that I look like Princess Diana too, but since the similarities between Di and me are so striking, I won't even bother to post pictures here.
Anyway, in the last few days, it has come to my attention that I am the spitting image of two other rather famous celebrities. The first is Olivia Hussey, the actress who played Juliet in Franco Zeffirelli's 1968 version of Romeo and Juliet:
Uncanny, eh?The other celebrity is a phenom golfer from Okinawa, Miyazato Ai (宮里藍) :
I must admit that the resemblance is rather striking. It must be my Okinawan blood.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Medical Engrish All-Stars
Although Tyler and I have been here for almost a month now, we still find little Engrish treasures in our office every now and then. Yesterday, while digging through a file folder, Tyler found a bunch of profiles of last year's students written in English.
Some of their entries definitely deserve a prize, so it is with great pleasure that I present to you the Top Three in the Medical English Class of 2004-2005.
#3: Most Wholesome Profile
What are your hobbies?
1. Smoking
2. Drinking
3. Driving
#2: Most Earnest Profile
Please indicate any other information about yourself that you think is important. If you have any requests for this class, please let us know here.
I think I study hard maybe.
#1: Most Philosophical/Apathetic/(??) Profile
Please indicate any other information about yourself that you think is important. If you have any requests for this class, please let us know here.
especially nothing
Some of their entries definitely deserve a prize, so it is with great pleasure that I present to you the Top Three in the Medical English Class of 2004-2005.
#3: Most Wholesome Profile
What are your hobbies?
1. Smoking
2. Drinking
3. Driving
---
#2: Most Earnest Profile
Please indicate any other information about yourself that you think is important. If you have any requests for this class, please let us know here.
I think I study hard maybe.
---
#1: Most Philosophical/Apathetic/(??) Profile
Please indicate any other information about yourself that you think is important. If you have any requests for this class, please let us know here.
especially nothing
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Boots and Wild Turkeys
During a lesson last Wednesday:
Me: Ok, let's look at this picture in the textbook. Can you describe the clothes that this man is wearing? What color are his boots?
Mrs. K: etto....
Me: (very slowly) Can you tell me what color the man's boots are?
Mrs. K: etto....a, sou da! (haltingly) Can you teru me what calaa za man's boots are?
Me: Uh, right... Can you tell me?
Mrs. K: ...
Me: I'm sorry. I must have confused you. (veerry slowly) Do you see this man in the picture? What color are his boots?
Mrs. K: Boots! Yes. He izu wearingu boots...and T-shirt and hat and - -
Me: Um, yes, that's true...but what color are his boots?
Mrs. K: Boots! Yes, boots. He have boots.
Me: ...
Me: Ok, let's look at this picture in the textbook. Can you describe the clothes that this man is wearing? What color are his boots?
Mrs. K: etto....
Me: (very slowly) Can you tell me what color the man's boots are?
Mrs. K: etto....a, sou da! (haltingly) Can you teru me what calaa za man's boots are?
Me: Uh, right... Can you tell me?
Mrs. K: ...
Me: I'm sorry. I must have confused you. (veerry slowly) Do you see this man in the picture? What color are his boots?
Mrs. K: Boots! Yes. He izu wearingu boots...and T-shirt and hat and - -
Me: Um, yes, that's true...but what color are his boots?
Mrs. K: Boots! Yes, boots. He have boots.
Me: ...
----
A conversation with my boss a few days ago:
Boss: Are you still cooking for yourself every night?
Me: Yes...well, I'm trying to.
Boss: Oh, good for you. So do you go to the supermarket to buy food?
Me: Um...yes...except for the days when I hike up into the mountains to hunt wild turkeys.
Boss: What?
Me: except for the days when I go hunting for wild turkeys.
Boss: Oh. (looks puzzled) Oh!!....You do?!!?
Boss: Are you still cooking for yourself every night?
Me: Yes...well, I'm trying to.
Boss: Oh, good for you. So do you go to the supermarket to buy food?
Me: Um...yes...except for the days when I hike up into the mountains to hunt wild turkeys.
Boss: What?
Me: except for the days when I go hunting for wild turkeys.
Boss: Oh. (looks puzzled) Oh!!....You do?!!?
Monday, September 18, 2006
Odds and Ends
-- Typhoon number 13 hit Japan this weekend, so unfortunately I had to cancel my plans to see my dad's aunt in Kyushu. It sounds like they had some pretty heavy rain in her town, but she's okay. (In other places, trains flipped over and roofs caved in, I guess.) The typhoon was also supposed to hit Ehime this morning, but it must have missed because the weather today was probably as beautiful as I've seen it while I've been here.
-- My 100 Yen shop (the equivalent of a dollar store) is named Silk. I guess I must live in a pretty swanky part of town.
-- I had mochi (rice ball) pizza for the first time last week. It was quite sticky, but the mix of rice, crust, cheese and bacon was strangely satisfying. They also put corn on their pizza here, and everyone is shocked when I tell them that Americans don't.
-- According to a TV show last night, humans are instinctively programmed to like shiny things. Therefore, to make a good first impression on someone, you should try to accentuate the shiniest parts of your face: your eyes and teeth. To me, the most logical way to accomplish this would be to smile as you introduce yourself. But according to the experts on the show, people actually need to do facial exercises in order to improve their facial expressions and range of motion.
I doubt this show was broadcast in the US, so I figured perhaps I should pass along the facial exercises to you so that you too can make friends and influence people. Here they are:
1) To improve the flexibility your mouth area, hold a pair of chopsticks between your teeth and alternate between saying "oo" and "ee." If you're confused, see the model below. (And yes, the people on the TV show were sitting in the studio doing this. It was quite entertaining.)
2) To improve your eye area, close your eyes as tightly as possible for three seconds, then open them as quickly as you can and hold them open for three seconds. Repeat.
Apparently, if you do these simple exercises for just a few minutes every day, it will make all the difference in the world in your social life. Actually, I think it's already working for me. I tried the exercises last night, and this morning when I went to grocery store, all sorts of people were staring at me. I can only assume it was because of my beautiful eyes. *
-- The cookies here must be the smallest ones in the world. At first I was fooled by the large, luscious looking cookies in the pictures on the side of the packages in the grocery store, but now I've realized that there must be some kind of federal law against selling cookies more than an inch or two in diameter. (Perhaps if the cookies were any bigger, they would be so large after they were individually wrapped that the package wouldn't fit in a shopping cart???) Anyway, yesterday I searched high and low across Matsuyama for oatmeal and unsweetened cocoa, and today I succeeded in making the most expensive batch of no-bake cookies in the history of the world. The jury is still out on whether they actually taste good since they are still cooling in the fridge, but at least they're big. :)
-- I've now met all of my private lesson students. Since I'll be spending a lot of time with them and they're sure to come up in future posts, here's a quick run-down of some of my more interesting pupils.
Mrs. N: A really nice middle-aged lady who told me she was very nervous about working with a new teacher. However, according to my boss, Mrs. N liked me so much that she left our first lesson in a state of euphoria and forgot to pay me. Sweet. :)
Dr. M: This is the guy from a previous post who wanted to practice listening to men with southern accents. I had him listen to a singer with a southern accent and he seemed fascinated, so next week, he's asked that we focus on Boston accents. Hopefully I can figure out what a Boston accent is by then...
Mrs. K: Last year's teachers wrote profiles about each of the students, and Mrs. K's profile wasn't too flattering, so I was kind of dreading her lesson. (Apparently, she's rich, manipulative and therefore a pain in the neck to deal with. Also, she does freaky things like memorizing the birthdays of everyone in your family and reciting them back to you...) Once I got to the lesson, she sat me down and started asking me a very long list of questions. It felt sort of like an interrogation, but since she was asking me the questions in English I let her keep going. By the time she got around to asking me about my birthday, I was feeling quite nervous, but luckily she stopped there and I was able to actually start the lesson. Anyway, I've come to the conclusion that she's not so bad - maybe just a bit lonely - so hopefully I'll have more luck with her than the teachers before me.
Mrs. M and the Health Support Center Group: Mrs. M's profile is also pretty scary, and this time I would have to agree. There are six people in the class and Mrs. M has much better English than anyone else. She knows this and likes to explain things to the rest of the class very loudly in Japanese. The only problem is that I can understand her and half the time, she's explaining things wrong, but when I try to correct her or ask her to do something, she's really rude. At our first lesson, she started talking in Japanese about a movie she'd seen recently, so I asked her very nicely if she could explain the movie in English instead. She gave me a seething glare and then continued to talk about the movie in Japanese. I think I ended up interrupting her (very politely) three times and she finally switched to English. ewww...I don't think I like her very much.
The Ws and the Ks: I teach two lessons with kids, and both groups are very cute and well-behaved. Also, their parents are incredibly generous. Even though they're paying me to teach the lessons, they also give me presents everytime I come over. So far, I've received a box of figs, five Japanese pears, a really good piece of chocolate cake, and a cream puff. I don't know why they give all this stuff to me, but I love them.
* I would like to think that it was not due to the fact that I'm reasonably tall and white. Just humor me on this one. And try the exercises. All the cool people are doing them.
-- My 100 Yen shop (the equivalent of a dollar store) is named Silk. I guess I must live in a pretty swanky part of town.
-- I had mochi (rice ball) pizza for the first time last week. It was quite sticky, but the mix of rice, crust, cheese and bacon was strangely satisfying. They also put corn on their pizza here, and everyone is shocked when I tell them that Americans don't.
-- According to a TV show last night, humans are instinctively programmed to like shiny things. Therefore, to make a good first impression on someone, you should try to accentuate the shiniest parts of your face: your eyes and teeth. To me, the most logical way to accomplish this would be to smile as you introduce yourself. But according to the experts on the show, people actually need to do facial exercises in order to improve their facial expressions and range of motion.
I doubt this show was broadcast in the US, so I figured perhaps I should pass along the facial exercises to you so that you too can make friends and influence people. Here they are:
1) To improve the flexibility your mouth area, hold a pair of chopsticks between your teeth and alternate between saying "oo" and "ee." If you're confused, see the model below. (And yes, the people on the TV show were sitting in the studio doing this. It was quite entertaining.)
2) To improve your eye area, close your eyes as tightly as possible for three seconds, then open them as quickly as you can and hold them open for three seconds. Repeat.
Apparently, if you do these simple exercises for just a few minutes every day, it will make all the difference in the world in your social life. Actually, I think it's already working for me. I tried the exercises last night, and this morning when I went to grocery store, all sorts of people were staring at me. I can only assume it was because of my beautiful eyes. *
-- The cookies here must be the smallest ones in the world. At first I was fooled by the large, luscious looking cookies in the pictures on the side of the packages in the grocery store, but now I've realized that there must be some kind of federal law against selling cookies more than an inch or two in diameter. (Perhaps if the cookies were any bigger, they would be so large after they were individually wrapped that the package wouldn't fit in a shopping cart???) Anyway, yesterday I searched high and low across Matsuyama for oatmeal and unsweetened cocoa, and today I succeeded in making the most expensive batch of no-bake cookies in the history of the world. The jury is still out on whether they actually taste good since they are still cooling in the fridge, but at least they're big. :)
-- I've now met all of my private lesson students. Since I'll be spending a lot of time with them and they're sure to come up in future posts, here's a quick run-down of some of my more interesting pupils.
Mrs. N: A really nice middle-aged lady who told me she was very nervous about working with a new teacher. However, according to my boss, Mrs. N liked me so much that she left our first lesson in a state of euphoria and forgot to pay me. Sweet. :)
Dr. M: This is the guy from a previous post who wanted to practice listening to men with southern accents. I had him listen to a singer with a southern accent and he seemed fascinated, so next week, he's asked that we focus on Boston accents. Hopefully I can figure out what a Boston accent is by then...
Mrs. K: Last year's teachers wrote profiles about each of the students, and Mrs. K's profile wasn't too flattering, so I was kind of dreading her lesson. (Apparently, she's rich, manipulative and therefore a pain in the neck to deal with. Also, she does freaky things like memorizing the birthdays of everyone in your family and reciting them back to you...) Once I got to the lesson, she sat me down and started asking me a very long list of questions. It felt sort of like an interrogation, but since she was asking me the questions in English I let her keep going. By the time she got around to asking me about my birthday, I was feeling quite nervous, but luckily she stopped there and I was able to actually start the lesson. Anyway, I've come to the conclusion that she's not so bad - maybe just a bit lonely - so hopefully I'll have more luck with her than the teachers before me.
Mrs. M and the Health Support Center Group: Mrs. M's profile is also pretty scary, and this time I would have to agree. There are six people in the class and Mrs. M has much better English than anyone else. She knows this and likes to explain things to the rest of the class very loudly in Japanese. The only problem is that I can understand her and half the time, she's explaining things wrong, but when I try to correct her or ask her to do something, she's really rude. At our first lesson, she started talking in Japanese about a movie she'd seen recently, so I asked her very nicely if she could explain the movie in English instead. She gave me a seething glare and then continued to talk about the movie in Japanese. I think I ended up interrupting her (very politely) three times and she finally switched to English. ewww...I don't think I like her very much.
The Ws and the Ks: I teach two lessons with kids, and both groups are very cute and well-behaved. Also, their parents are incredibly generous. Even though they're paying me to teach the lessons, they also give me presents everytime I come over. So far, I've received a box of figs, five Japanese pears, a really good piece of chocolate cake, and a cream puff. I don't know why they give all this stuff to me, but I love them.
* I would like to think that it was not due to the fact that I'm reasonably tall and white. Just humor me on this one. And try the exercises. All the cool people are doing them.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Lindsay the Human Washing Machine and Other Fantastic Tales from Old Japan
Hi again, thank you all for your very kind responses to my poll. I am still in the process of tabulating the results and conducting a statistical analysis. In the meantime, the medicine wrappers will remain in a pile on my kitchen table.
Since it has been a while since my last post, I will take this opportunity to provide you with updates on several ongoing situations:
-- Population of Toon-shi (my town): 34,643.
Gaijin (foreigner) population of Toon-shi: 3 (Yes, Tyler, the other English teacher, and I have sighted one other foreigner living in our city. Based on this sudden 50% increase in the gaijin population, we are beginning to worry that foreigners will soon over-run the town. More on this critical situation later.)
-- My Japanese softball debut was cancelled this Tuesday due to rain. I'm projected to get my first start in the beginning of October, so stay tuned.
-- Despite my best efforts to become a Real Woman over the past three weeks, my Marriageability Rating has steadily declined this week to an embarrassing 7.2%. (See Fig 1)
Fig 1.
At the beginning of the week, an encouraging streak of cooking success caused my rating to plateau at around 40%. However, Thursday's omelette incident (in which I completely decimated my omelette and settled for scrambled eggs instead) and an unfortunate episode of washing machine incompetence* this weekend eventually caused the rating to plunge to a record low.
-- It appears that the submission deadlines for several English medical journals are coming up, because Tyler (the other English teacher) and I have been swamped with papers to edit. Doctors from all over the hospital apparently rely on us to make sure that their English makes sense. The only problem with this is that since I'm not a doctor, I have not the foggiest idea whether "spondylosis" is spelled correctly or what in the world "LVH is cause the in hypertrophic myopathy condition, however, result condition was unfavorable" is supposed to mean. Soooo I've had to do quite a bit of research to make sure that my corrections are actually...well...correct. Happily, I am now quite the expert on spinal cord compression injuries, glycogen storage disease type IIIa, and Alzheimer's disease. Also, this whole paper editing process has been quite entertaining because of sentences like these.
The title of an article about new criteria to determine whether a patient with dementia is still capable of driving safely:
The BBB scale is one of the most famous hind-limbs motor function evaluating methods for rats and mousse.
mmm....rats and mousse.
And finally, my favorite sentence. One group of doctors wanted to resubmit their article to a journal after making corrections, so they asked me to edit their letter to the editor. After explaining the corrections they had made, they wrote:
We hope new version is better for understand.
Fortunately, I fixed this sentence for them. :)
* In an attempt to wash my whites this morning, I threw them in my washing machine, turned it on and went off to make breakfast. Twenty minutes later, I heard the washing machine stop and started to take my laundry out. As I hung the clothes out to dry, I noticed that they were a bit wetter than usual. To be more precise, they were dripping. Finally realizing that my rather old and finicky washing machine must have turned off before the spin cycle, I proceeded to ring out about fifty-seven pairs of underwear and one very absorbent (and very aggravating) bath towel. This whole process took me about one hour. Only after I was finished did I realize that it is possible to manually set the washing machine to skip the wash and rinse cycles and simply spin the clothes.
Since it has been a while since my last post, I will take this opportunity to provide you with updates on several ongoing situations:
-- Population of Toon-shi (my town): 34,643.
Gaijin (foreigner) population of Toon-shi: 3 (Yes, Tyler, the other English teacher, and I have sighted one other foreigner living in our city. Based on this sudden 50% increase in the gaijin population, we are beginning to worry that foreigners will soon over-run the town. More on this critical situation later.)
-- My Japanese softball debut was cancelled this Tuesday due to rain. I'm projected to get my first start in the beginning of October, so stay tuned.
-- Despite my best efforts to become a Real Woman over the past three weeks, my Marriageability Rating has steadily declined this week to an embarrassing 7.2%. (See Fig 1)
Fig 1.
At the beginning of the week, an encouraging streak of cooking success caused my rating to plateau at around 40%. However, Thursday's omelette incident (in which I completely decimated my omelette and settled for scrambled eggs instead) and an unfortunate episode of washing machine incompetence* this weekend eventually caused the rating to plunge to a record low.
-- It appears that the submission deadlines for several English medical journals are coming up, because Tyler (the other English teacher) and I have been swamped with papers to edit. Doctors from all over the hospital apparently rely on us to make sure that their English makes sense. The only problem with this is that since I'm not a doctor, I have not the foggiest idea whether "spondylosis" is spelled correctly or what in the world "LVH is cause the in hypertrophic myopathy condition, however, result condition was unfavorable" is supposed to mean. Soooo I've had to do quite a bit of research to make sure that my corrections are actually...well...correct. Happily, I am now quite the expert on spinal cord compression injuries, glycogen storage disease type IIIa, and Alzheimer's disease. Also, this whole paper editing process has been quite entertaining because of sentences like these.
The title of an article about new criteria to determine whether a patient with dementia is still capable of driving safely:
Brief criteria for the revocation of demented driver’s licenses
An explanation of a scale used to evaluate motor function in rats and mice:The BBB scale is one of the most famous hind-limbs motor function evaluating methods for rats and mousse.
mmm....rats and mousse.
And finally, my favorite sentence. One group of doctors wanted to resubmit their article to a journal after making corrections, so they asked me to edit their letter to the editor. After explaining the corrections they had made, they wrote:
We hope new version is better for understand.
Fortunately, I fixed this sentence for them. :)
* In an attempt to wash my whites this morning, I threw them in my washing machine, turned it on and went off to make breakfast. Twenty minutes later, I heard the washing machine stop and started to take my laundry out. As I hung the clothes out to dry, I noticed that they were a bit wetter than usual. To be more precise, they were dripping. Finally realizing that my rather old and finicky washing machine must have turned off before the spin cycle, I proceeded to ring out about fifty-seven pairs of underwear and one very absorbent (and very aggravating) bath towel. This whole process took me about one hour. Only after I was finished did I realize that it is possible to manually set the washing machine to skip the wash and rinse cycles and simply spin the clothes.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
I Love Trash / A Readership Poll
Last year when I lived in an apartment in Kyoto, I put all of my trash into one bag and threw the bag into the apartment building's dumpster. There was only one dumpster and the only sign on the dumpster simply said:
In case you're confused by the English translation, I think it should be changed to something more like "Please close the lid of the dumpster after you throw away your garbage." But questionable English aside, I loved this dumpster. It was simple and beautiful. Read on, and I think you'll understand why.
This week, I have been introduced to the harsh realities of the Japanese waste disposal system. Gone are the old days when I was allowed to put all of my garbage into one bag and simply toss it in a dumpster. Instead, I must sort my garbage into about seventeen different bags and dispose of each of them at separate pick-up sites in various parts of my town. (Off the top of my head, the categories are burnable garbage*, plastic bottles with the #1 recycling sign, all other plastic products, metal cans, glass bottles, milk cartons, corrugated cardboard, newspapers and magazines, styrofoam trays, batteries, mirrors and fluorescent light bulbs, oversized items, and other.)
Ok, so by seventeen categories I meant thirteen...but you get the general idea.
You may be thinking, Sure, they have all these categories, but no one actually sorts their trash that diligently, right? Wrong. Everyone in the neighborhood is required to sort their garbage into clear trash bags. Thus, if you have a stray fluorescent lightbulb in your "other plastic products" bag, the sanitation workers will be able to see it and will leave the offending bag at the pick-up site. On top of that, everyone is required to label their trash bags with their name. This means that when the rest of your neighbors go to the pick-up site to drop off their neatly-sorted trash, your poorly-sorted bag will still be sitting there, a mark of shame upon your household.
For the most part, dear readers, I think that I have succeeded in keeping all of my trash straight, but I would like to request your advice about one very important matter, and therefore, I am conducting a brief readership poll:
Question 1)
Every day, I take medication that comes individually wrapped in one of those childproof packages. Each pill is encased in a wrapper that looks like this:
Since the the packaging contains plastic, paper, and the foil stuff, I currently face a terrible dilemma, so please help me out and answer my poll.
Should I:
A) peel off the paper, painstakingly scrape the metallic stuff off the plastic, and throw away all three parts separately?
B) peel off the paper but leave the metallic stuff on the plastic and risk dishonoring my good name?
C) place the whole wrapper deep inside the "other plastic products" bag and hope that the trash man doesn't notice?
D) bury the wrappers in a hole outside my apartment until I decide what to do with them?
E) Other_____________
If you could send your response to me as soon as possible, I would be ever so grateful. You can leave your answer as a comment on this blog or just e-mail it to me. Thank you! I value your opinion.**
* This burnable garbage category completely baffles me. After all, you can burn milk cartons, cardboard, newspapers, magazines, and even plastic (although it would smell bad), but they are not considered burnable garbage.
** No really, I do value your opinion. But I am also curious to know who actually reads this blog. :)
In case you're confused by the English translation, I think it should be changed to something more like "Please close the lid of the dumpster after you throw away your garbage." But questionable English aside, I loved this dumpster. It was simple and beautiful. Read on, and I think you'll understand why.
This week, I have been introduced to the harsh realities of the Japanese waste disposal system. Gone are the old days when I was allowed to put all of my garbage into one bag and simply toss it in a dumpster. Instead, I must sort my garbage into about seventeen different bags and dispose of each of them at separate pick-up sites in various parts of my town. (Off the top of my head, the categories are burnable garbage*, plastic bottles with the #1 recycling sign, all other plastic products, metal cans, glass bottles, milk cartons, corrugated cardboard, newspapers and magazines, styrofoam trays, batteries, mirrors and fluorescent light bulbs, oversized items, and other.)
Ok, so by seventeen categories I meant thirteen...but you get the general idea.
You may be thinking, Sure, they have all these categories, but no one actually sorts their trash that diligently, right? Wrong. Everyone in the neighborhood is required to sort their garbage into clear trash bags. Thus, if you have a stray fluorescent lightbulb in your "other plastic products" bag, the sanitation workers will be able to see it and will leave the offending bag at the pick-up site. On top of that, everyone is required to label their trash bags with their name. This means that when the rest of your neighbors go to the pick-up site to drop off their neatly-sorted trash, your poorly-sorted bag will still be sitting there, a mark of shame upon your household.
For the most part, dear readers, I think that I have succeeded in keeping all of my trash straight, but I would like to request your advice about one very important matter, and therefore, I am conducting a brief readership poll:
Question 1)
Every day, I take medication that comes individually wrapped in one of those childproof packages. Each pill is encased in a wrapper that looks like this:
Since the the packaging contains plastic, paper, and the foil stuff, I currently face a terrible dilemma, so please help me out and answer my poll.
Should I:
A) peel off the paper, painstakingly scrape the metallic stuff off the plastic, and throw away all three parts separately?
B) peel off the paper but leave the metallic stuff on the plastic and risk dishonoring my good name?
C) place the whole wrapper deep inside the "other plastic products" bag and hope that the trash man doesn't notice?
D) bury the wrappers in a hole outside my apartment until I decide what to do with them?
E) Other_____________
If you could send your response to me as soon as possible, I would be ever so grateful. You can leave your answer as a comment on this blog or just e-mail it to me. Thank you! I value your opinion.**
* This burnable garbage category completely baffles me. After all, you can burn milk cartons, cardboard, newspapers, magazines, and even plastic (although it would smell bad), but they are not considered burnable garbage.
** No really, I do value your opinion. But I am also curious to know who actually reads this blog. :)
Monday, September 04, 2006
Middle Fingers, Backhoes, and Old Men
Last week, after five consecutive successful attempts at cooking dinner, I was about to officially proclaim myself a woman of the world. However, I have since been forced to seriously reconsider whether I am yet worthy of such a title, because two days ago I had my first major mishap in the kitchen.
I was well on my way to making a respectable bowl of udon when I read on the back of the udon package that I should pour my successfully-boiled noodles into a strainer before transferring them to the pre-prepared bowl of broth. Consequently, I retrieved a strainer from under the sink, and holding the strainer in my left hand, I proceeded to pour out my noodles. Now, since strainers by their very nature have holes, I, in my infinite wisdom, should probably have realized that it would not be a good idea to grasp the bottom of the strainer while pouring boiling water through, but alas, this thought did not occur to me. However, as the water hit my hand, I quickly realized my mistake, and dropped the pot, the strainer, and the noodles into the sink.
My next thought was to run water on my hand, but I was reluctant to run cold water on the freshly-boiled udon noodles lying forlornly in the sink. What was I to do? I finally grabbed a bag of corn from the freezer and wrapped it around my poor burnt fingers. Unfortunately, after checking WebMD, I realized that you're actually not supposed to ice burns, so I swiftly returned the corn to the freezer and filled a bowl full of cold water to soak my hand, which by now was quite painful. Back at my computer, I scanned several web pages about burn care and read various things about how burns should be taken seriously, no matter how minor; burns with a diameter of more than two inches should be treated by a healthcare professional etc. And sitting alone in my little apartment with my tired, paranoid brain I thought, wait a second, this burn is definitely more than two inches in diameter. Geez, what if it's serious? Maybe I should run to the hospital...I think I'm feeling a little faint...What if my finger falls off ?...nah, that could never happen, you idiot....oh my god, I am going to perish in this apartment in the middle of Japan, the victim of a tragic udon-scalding-accident!!! At this point, I proceeded to send text messages to a couple friends, who assured me that I was not in mortal danger, and I realized that I was being a tad bit silly. Having regained my sanity, I managed to salvage the udon from the sink and eat with my right hand, while soaking my stinging left hand in the bowl of water.
Two days after the udon accident, the middle finger on my left hand is one big blister, but I am happy to report that it is signifcantly smaller than it was yesterday and I have high hopes for a full recovery.
I was well on my way to making a respectable bowl of udon when I read on the back of the udon package that I should pour my successfully-boiled noodles into a strainer before transferring them to the pre-prepared bowl of broth. Consequently, I retrieved a strainer from under the sink, and holding the strainer in my left hand, I proceeded to pour out my noodles. Now, since strainers by their very nature have holes, I, in my infinite wisdom, should probably have realized that it would not be a good idea to grasp the bottom of the strainer while pouring boiling water through, but alas, this thought did not occur to me. However, as the water hit my hand, I quickly realized my mistake, and dropped the pot, the strainer, and the noodles into the sink.
My next thought was to run water on my hand, but I was reluctant to run cold water on the freshly-boiled udon noodles lying forlornly in the sink. What was I to do? I finally grabbed a bag of corn from the freezer and wrapped it around my poor burnt fingers. Unfortunately, after checking WebMD, I realized that you're actually not supposed to ice burns, so I swiftly returned the corn to the freezer and filled a bowl full of cold water to soak my hand, which by now was quite painful. Back at my computer, I scanned several web pages about burn care and read various things about how burns should be taken seriously, no matter how minor; burns with a diameter of more than two inches should be treated by a healthcare professional etc. And sitting alone in my little apartment with my tired, paranoid brain I thought, wait a second, this burn is definitely more than two inches in diameter. Geez, what if it's serious? Maybe I should run to the hospital...I think I'm feeling a little faint...What if my finger falls off ?...nah, that could never happen, you idiot....oh my god, I am going to perish in this apartment in the middle of Japan, the victim of a tragic udon-scalding-accident!!! At this point, I proceeded to send text messages to a couple friends, who assured me that I was not in mortal danger, and I realized that I was being a tad bit silly. Having regained my sanity, I managed to salvage the udon from the sink and eat with my right hand, while soaking my stinging left hand in the bowl of water.
Two days after the udon accident, the middle finger on my left hand is one big blister, but I am happy to report that it is signifcantly smaller than it was yesterday and I have high hopes for a full recovery.
----
Since this spring, I had known that my apartment in Japan would be next to a train station and a high school campus, but I had thought nothing of it. After all, I told myself, I can sleep through anything. However, this weekend, I've realized that even I have my limits.
Actually, the sound of the train coming by isn't too bad, especially since the train stops running at 10:30 PM. But the high school is ridiculous. There are kids there all the time. I can't quite figure out when they eat and sleep, because they are always at school, even on weekends.* And boy are they ever loud. I'm not talking about normal playground chatter - I'm talking about the sound of hundreds of voices shouting, "Ichi, ni, san, shi" in unison at the top of their lungs at 7 AM on a Sunday morning. Absolutely ridiculous. Oh yes, the high school has a marching band and a drum group too. Apparently these groups find that Saturday mornings are the most opportune time to practice.
In addition to the noise from the high school events, this weekend I was treated to the sound of a particularly squeaky backhoe, which was clearing out a small forest on the other side of the apartment complex. I am quite certain that this backhoe had not been oiled for a long time, perhaps since the Meiji Restoration, and it was so loud that the train and shouting high school students paled in comparison.
Anyway, suffice it to say that I received a rather rude awakening on Saturday morning. I hope that the backhoe is nearly finished with its digging and flattening and whatnot. If not, I am thinking about going out to the construction site tomorrow with a shovel to help it along.
While checking out my town's website one day, I read that there was supposed to be a softball tournament on Sunday morning, and I decided to go down to the field to check it out. The tournament turned out to be for a co-ed recreational softball league, so I stopped by the information tent to ask how I might go about joining a team. The guy at the tent was very impressed that I could actually speak Japanese, and told me, "I'll bet that your neighborhood's team will definitely let you join. They'll be very happy to have a pretty, young girl on the team."
"Oh, um, that's...good," I said, and the man at the tent brought me over to meet the team. Every single person on the team was male, and most of them were at least fifty. They were all very nice and invited me to play with them during a night game this week. So it appears that I am now the newest member of a softball team full of middle-aged/elderly men. I don't know if I will actually be able to make the game this week because I have to teach a private lesson, but I have no doubt that once I do make it to a game, it will interesting to get to know my new pals.
* On a side note, I've noticed that the high school is completely surrounded by barbed wire, and for the last week, I've been wondering why. After much thought, I've come up with two possible conclusions:
1) The barbed wire keeps the poor high school students from ever leaving the grounds of the school. EVER. And thus they must remain at school 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with only one outlet for their frustrations: chanting "Ichi, ni, san, shi" as loudly as possible at all hours of the day and night.
or
2) The barbed wire is designed to keep people like me from entering the school grounds and binding and gagging all of those wretched high school students. (only kidding, don't worry...)
I will be sure to update you as I gather further information about this matter.
Actually, the sound of the train coming by isn't too bad, especially since the train stops running at 10:30 PM. But the high school is ridiculous. There are kids there all the time. I can't quite figure out when they eat and sleep, because they are always at school, even on weekends.* And boy are they ever loud. I'm not talking about normal playground chatter - I'm talking about the sound of hundreds of voices shouting, "Ichi, ni, san, shi" in unison at the top of their lungs at 7 AM on a Sunday morning. Absolutely ridiculous. Oh yes, the high school has a marching band and a drum group too. Apparently these groups find that Saturday mornings are the most opportune time to practice.
In addition to the noise from the high school events, this weekend I was treated to the sound of a particularly squeaky backhoe, which was clearing out a small forest on the other side of the apartment complex. I am quite certain that this backhoe had not been oiled for a long time, perhaps since the Meiji Restoration, and it was so loud that the train and shouting high school students paled in comparison.
Anyway, suffice it to say that I received a rather rude awakening on Saturday morning. I hope that the backhoe is nearly finished with its digging and flattening and whatnot. If not, I am thinking about going out to the construction site tomorrow with a shovel to help it along.
----
While checking out my town's website one day, I read that there was supposed to be a softball tournament on Sunday morning, and I decided to go down to the field to check it out. The tournament turned out to be for a co-ed recreational softball league, so I stopped by the information tent to ask how I might go about joining a team. The guy at the tent was very impressed that I could actually speak Japanese, and told me, "I'll bet that your neighborhood's team will definitely let you join. They'll be very happy to have a pretty, young girl on the team."
"Oh, um, that's...good," I said, and the man at the tent brought me over to meet the team. Every single person on the team was male, and most of them were at least fifty. They were all very nice and invited me to play with them during a night game this week. So it appears that I am now the newest member of a softball team full of middle-aged/elderly men. I don't know if I will actually be able to make the game this week because I have to teach a private lesson, but I have no doubt that once I do make it to a game, it will interesting to get to know my new pals.
* On a side note, I've noticed that the high school is completely surrounded by barbed wire, and for the last week, I've been wondering why. After much thought, I've come up with two possible conclusions:
1) The barbed wire keeps the poor high school students from ever leaving the grounds of the school. EVER. And thus they must remain at school 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with only one outlet for their frustrations: chanting "Ichi, ni, san, shi" as loudly as possible at all hours of the day and night.
or
2) The barbed wire is designed to keep people like me from entering the school grounds and binding and gagging all of those wretched high school students. (only kidding, don't worry...)
I will be sure to update you as I gather further information about this matter.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
掃除好き
I've been told that the English teachers at my university have lived in this same apartment for the last fifteen years. And upon closer inspection of the apartment, I have come to the conclusion that it has probably been about fifteen years since it was last cleaned. Of course, I admit that I have abnormally high standards for cleanliness, since I am apparently genetically predisposed to be a bit of a clean freak. But my standards aside, it was definitely a bit icky in here before I got around to cleaning it yesterday morning.
I am proud to say that I have conquered the substantial dust bunny collection under the bed, as well as the odd odor emanating from the ~15 year-old package of taco seasoning in the cupboard above the sink. However, I have yet to figure out the slightly barfy smell coming from the toilet, so if anyone has any tips on that sort of thing, I would be ever so grateful if you could let me know.
Since it has been about a hundred million degrees out for the past couple days, I set off to work today with a wet head and figured that it would dry during my bike ride. Unfortunately, it was actually quite a bit cooler today and sprinkling a little bit, so that by the time I got to our office, I still looked like I had just gotten out of the shower. I wasn't sure whether it would be acceptable to show up for work in such a disheveled state, but after a bit, I decided to just go inside since no one in the medical school building really knows who I am anyway.
But when I got to my office, my boss, Ikuko, told me that today was the day that she wanted to introduce me to various people around the school. Great, thought I, this will make a fabulous first impression, but since Ikuko was pretty set on making the rounds, I had no choice but to go. Strangely enough, when I was introduced to the secretaries on the sixth floor, the first thing they said was "kawaii!!" which means something to the effect of, "You're so cute!" At first I thought maybe they were being sarcastic, but I abandoned that thought after they repeated themselves several times and kept asking me to come hang out with them. Maybe they were blinded by my beautiful eyes or pointy nose? Anyway, I haven't decided whether my new popularity has arisen as a result of my hair style or in spite of it, but for now I guess I'll think twice before I blow dry.
My only private student today was still away on vacation so I spent the day at the office going through my desk drawers scavenging for useful information from my predecessors. After looking through all of the files, I've come to realize that Toby and Nathan, last year's teachers, are gods. I had already known that they had reorganized the classes and put together completely new study materials. But I had no idea how uh...questionable the previous teachers' materials were. Here's a sampling of old test questions I found. (And keep in mind that these questions were supposed to be on the final for a medical English language class.)
12. Which statement is not an example of an effective way to present evidence?
a. President Bush announced that he plans to withdraw American soldiers from Iraq as soon as possible.
b. George Thompson, a soldier stationed Iraq, lost his legs in a recent bombing attack. For the rest of his life, he will need help for the most basic activities.
c. As of January 31, 2005, more than 2,000 American soldiers have died in Iraq.
d. Since the war in Iraq started, almost 20,000 Iraqi civilians have died.
e. Americans were told that Iraq was building weapons of mass destruction when the war in Iraq began, but it is now clear that Iraq was doing no such thing.
I can't put my finger on it, but apparently this teacher was a bit preoccupied with something when she wrote this question. Whatever she was thinking about, I doubt it had much to do with medicine or English...
Here's another:
23. Your patient says, " I've been having headaches," during an exam. You should reply:
a. What have you been eating?
b. When do they happen?
c. You know, you have beautiful eyes. (Yes, this option really appeared in the test.)
d. Are you under a lot of stress?
e. Does your stomach ever hurt?
And finally my favorite "medical English" test question:
5. Taboo! Describe the word "chicken" in English without using "chicken," "bird," "egg," "farm," or "fried."
I have no idea how this teacher got away with giving her students such a weird test, but needless to say, after reading these imaginitive questions, I was quite glad to see Toby and Nathan's packets, which seem to be much more relevant to what we're actually supposed to be teaching.
I am proud to say that I have conquered the substantial dust bunny collection under the bed, as well as the odd odor emanating from the ~15 year-old package of taco seasoning in the cupboard above the sink. However, I have yet to figure out the slightly barfy smell coming from the toilet, so if anyone has any tips on that sort of thing, I would be ever so grateful if you could let me know.
----
Since it has been about a hundred million degrees out for the past couple days, I set off to work today with a wet head and figured that it would dry during my bike ride. Unfortunately, it was actually quite a bit cooler today and sprinkling a little bit, so that by the time I got to our office, I still looked like I had just gotten out of the shower. I wasn't sure whether it would be acceptable to show up for work in such a disheveled state, but after a bit, I decided to just go inside since no one in the medical school building really knows who I am anyway.
But when I got to my office, my boss, Ikuko, told me that today was the day that she wanted to introduce me to various people around the school. Great, thought I, this will make a fabulous first impression, but since Ikuko was pretty set on making the rounds, I had no choice but to go. Strangely enough, when I was introduced to the secretaries on the sixth floor, the first thing they said was "kawaii!!" which means something to the effect of, "You're so cute!" At first I thought maybe they were being sarcastic, but I abandoned that thought after they repeated themselves several times and kept asking me to come hang out with them. Maybe they were blinded by my beautiful eyes or pointy nose? Anyway, I haven't decided whether my new popularity has arisen as a result of my hair style or in spite of it, but for now I guess I'll think twice before I blow dry.
----
My only private student today was still away on vacation so I spent the day at the office going through my desk drawers scavenging for useful information from my predecessors. After looking through all of the files, I've come to realize that Toby and Nathan, last year's teachers, are gods. I had already known that they had reorganized the classes and put together completely new study materials. But I had no idea how uh...questionable the previous teachers' materials were. Here's a sampling of old test questions I found. (And keep in mind that these questions were supposed to be on the final for a medical English language class.)
12. Which statement is not an example of an effective way to present evidence?
a. President Bush announced that he plans to withdraw American soldiers from Iraq as soon as possible.
b. George Thompson, a soldier stationed Iraq, lost his legs in a recent bombing attack. For the rest of his life, he will need help for the most basic activities.
c. As of January 31, 2005, more than 2,000 American soldiers have died in Iraq.
d. Since the war in Iraq started, almost 20,000 Iraqi civilians have died.
e. Americans were told that Iraq was building weapons of mass destruction when the war in Iraq began, but it is now clear that Iraq was doing no such thing.
I can't put my finger on it, but apparently this teacher was a bit preoccupied with something when she wrote this question. Whatever she was thinking about, I doubt it had much to do with medicine or English...
Here's another:
23. Your patient says, " I've been having headaches," during an exam. You should reply:
a. What have you been eating?
b. When do they happen?
c. You know, you have beautiful eyes. (Yes, this option really appeared in the test.)
d. Are you under a lot of stress?
e. Does your stomach ever hurt?
And finally my favorite "medical English" test question:
5. Taboo! Describe the word "chicken" in English without using "chicken," "bird," "egg," "farm," or "fried."
I have no idea how this teacher got away with giving her students such a weird test, but needless to say, after reading these imaginitive questions, I was quite glad to see Toby and Nathan's packets, which seem to be much more relevant to what we're actually supposed to be teaching.
----
TV show of the day:
Contestants sit at a rotating sushi counter, dressed in costumes from various countries, and prepare for some sort of game. The "American" and the "Russian" wear fake, white pointy noses, presumably to make themselves look caucasian...(?) The game begins as the contestants sing a song about themselves and the sushi to the tune of the Mickey Mouse Club Theme Song. Then, several slippery looking pieces of food come around the conveyor belt, and to avoid losing the game, each contestant must pick one up with chopsticks and eat it before it passes a certain point on the belt. The first two contestants are out of the running after they drop a purple fish and a gigantic shu mai, respectively. Finally, the last contestant loses when he fails to pick up a $100 2-inch cube of Okinawan pineapple. As punishment, he is mercilessly spun around in his chair by two heavily-muscled, shirtless men.
With my mad chopstick skills, I would most definitely lose at this game.
Contestants sit at a rotating sushi counter, dressed in costumes from various countries, and prepare for some sort of game. The "American" and the "Russian" wear fake, white pointy noses, presumably to make themselves look caucasian...(?) The game begins as the contestants sing a song about themselves and the sushi to the tune of the Mickey Mouse Club Theme Song. Then, several slippery looking pieces of food come around the conveyor belt, and to avoid losing the game, each contestant must pick one up with chopsticks and eat it before it passes a certain point on the belt. The first two contestants are out of the running after they drop a purple fish and a gigantic shu mai, respectively. Finally, the last contestant loses when he fails to pick up a $100 2-inch cube of Okinawan pineapple. As punishment, he is mercilessly spun around in his chair by two heavily-muscled, shirtless men.
With my mad chopstick skills, I would most definitely lose at this game.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Ferry Tale
As advertised, the overnight ferry I rode to get to my island did have a karaoke room, but by the time I got on board, I was so tired that I just went straight to my room. I suppose I'll have to try out the more exciting amenities the next time I take a trip. Each of the cheap-ticket rooms on the ferry had just enough room for 26 people to spread 26 very skinny futons on the floor. (And by just enough room, I mean just enough room...if you're terribly particular about your personal space, sleeping in one of the cheap ferry rooms is definitely not for you. Also, it is a good idea to make any bathroom trips before you lay down for the night, because especially if your futon happens to be in the far corner of the room, you'll have to navigate a minefield of sleeping people in semi-darkness in order to get to the door. ) At any rate, as far as I know, I made it through the night without rolling over on top of the nice ladies on either side of me, so I think the ferry ride was a success.
I made it to my apartment by 8 o'clock this morning. The apartment is pretty roomy compared to the one I had in Kyoto, but it has a couple features that are slightly disconcerting. First, the toilet paper in the bathroom here is pink. I find this quite disgusting, but since it would be a waste to throw it out, I guess I'll live with it until the end of the roll. Second, the water in the toilet is black. I find this even more disgusting than the pink toilet paper, and tomorrow morning when I can see better, it looks like I'll have to go at the toilet bowl with some heavy duty cleaner.
My first lesson was today at 4:30 PM in the hospital which is about five minutes away from my apartment by bike. My student was an obstetrics doctor who had lived in Wisconsin for a year a while ago. He speaks English quite well already (although sometimes he has a few problems with plurals, a, the etc.) but all in all, he is quite good and I'm not sure why he would want to pay $40 an hour for private lessons. Oh yes, he says that he would most like to practice listening to men with deep voices and southern accents... I guess that's two strikes against me right there, but I'll try my best to oblige.
I made it to my apartment by 8 o'clock this morning. The apartment is pretty roomy compared to the one I had in Kyoto, but it has a couple features that are slightly disconcerting. First, the toilet paper in the bathroom here is pink. I find this quite disgusting, but since it would be a waste to throw it out, I guess I'll live with it until the end of the roll. Second, the water in the toilet is black. I find this even more disgusting than the pink toilet paper, and tomorrow morning when I can see better, it looks like I'll have to go at the toilet bowl with some heavy duty cleaner.
My first lesson was today at 4:30 PM in the hospital which is about five minutes away from my apartment by bike. My student was an obstetrics doctor who had lived in Wisconsin for a year a while ago. He speaks English quite well already (although sometimes he has a few problems with plurals, a, the etc.) but all in all, he is quite good and I'm not sure why he would want to pay $40 an hour for private lessons. Oh yes, he says that he would most like to practice listening to men with deep voices and southern accents... I guess that's two strikes against me right there, but I'll try my best to oblige.
Beautiful People, Beautiful Food
Well, loyal readers, I’m sure that all three of you have been waiting at your computer screens in breathless anticipation of my next post, so I sincerely apologize for the delay. I’ve finally made it to my apartment in Ehime-ken after traveling across Japan Kyoto , I took a train to Osaka
- # of hours I’ve spent on planes, trains or boats in the last six days: ~ 31.57
- # of people I’ve accidentally clobbered while lugging my backpack and suitcase around
- # of small children caught staring at the gigantic foreigner with the suitcase: 7+
- # of times I’ve almost forgotten half my luggage at a cell phone store in
- # of earthquakes: 1 small one
- # of earthquake tremors Chris mistook for me shaking the couch: 1
- # of paper shredder accidents in
- # of times I’ve been awake at 4 AM in the last six days: 6
- # of times in the last three hours I’ve felt an uncontrollable urge to dust my apartment: 13 (Mom, you would be so proud. :)
And now for the long version:
Friday, August 04, 2006
唄
In a burst of creativity at the end of last quarter, I decided to record a couple of songs that I've been playing around with lately. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not exactly a virtuoso on the guitar, but the recordings did actually come out kind of cool. If you're curious to hear, check out the links below.
This is Minikui, a song I wrote as a joke for a Japanese skit. Ev put together the music video for me with English captions. :)
http://www.stanford.edu/~echin/minikui/minikui.mov
or
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2543679307627546021
And here's a recording of a really pretty lullaby, Warabi gami. My good friend Alicia plays in this one on the sanshin, a kind of Okinawan stringed instrument:
http://www.stanford.edu/~lgibbon/uta/warabigami1.mp3
This is Minikui, a song I wrote as a joke for a Japanese skit. Ev put together the music video for me with English captions. :)
http://www.stanford.edu/~echin/minikui/minikui.mov
or
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2543679307627546021
And here's a recording of a really pretty lullaby, Warabi gami. My good friend Alicia plays in this one on the sanshin, a kind of Okinawan stringed instrument:
http://www.stanford.edu/~lgibbon/uta/warabigami1.mp3
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