Last week, the medical school's spring break* ended and I started teaching Medical English classes again. Looking back on last semester, I am pleased to say that it passed by without any major disasters:
# of tacks planted on my chair by naughty students: 0
# of students who offered me nut-flavored lip gloss: 0
# of episodes of paralyzing speech fright in front of giant class of 50+ medical students: 0
# of times all grades for the entire semester were almost lost due to computer crashes: 1
# of backup copies of the grades: 1 (phew!)
# of times I slept through class: 0!**
Besides avoiding complete catastrophe last semester, I am proud to say that I also made a little progress as a teacher in a couple of ways:
1. I know a little more English than I did before.
It's one thing to know that "Is there something right of women doctor?" sounds funny, and quite another thing to know how to help the student fix it. I'm beginning to find that all of that grammar stuff from Mrs. Jacobsen's third grade class might have been useful after all. Here's hoping that this quarter, I can tell my present perfect from my past continuous and all that nonsense.
2. I recently realized that I am a teacher.
This actually took quite a long time -- it's hard to feel like a real teacher when most of your private students are in their forties or fifties, and most of the medical students are about the same age as you are.
I can still picture the moment when it dawned on me that I'm actually supposed to know what I'm doing. At the end of last quarter, one of my students missed the final exam. My big boss called him down to our office to explain himself, and a few minutes later, the two of them came over to my desk to consult with me.
Big Boss: Lindsay, I would like to ask you to allow Mr. Kai to take the final exam. Do you think you can do that?
Me: (a little taken aback: Why is the Big Boss asking me what to do???) Um...er...um...yes, sure. um...ok. yeah, I think that would be okay...but maybe there should be some sort of...er...penalty for missing the original test?
Big Boss: Yes, I think that is appropriate. Mr. Kai, please make arrangements with Lindsay to take the final.
Kai: (looks at his feet like a guy from one of those awkward Southwest Airlines commercials, while bowing to me repeatedly like I'm the university president or the emperor or something) Sensei, thank you. Thank you very much.
As I watched that student practically grovel at my feet, it hit me: geez, he's the student and I'm the teacher. He thinks I'm a grown-up!?!
Okay, so officially, I've been a grown-up for the last five years, but I think there's a little more to growing up than simply turning 18 (or 20 if you happen to live in Japan.) Maybe it's something more like this:
grown-up: a person who 1) has gained knowledge from various life experiences [graduating from school, finding a job, becoming financially independent, moving out, getting married etc.], and 2) uses that knowledge to support him/herself and live independently in society.
That sounds a little better somehow, doesn't it? But it still has issues....
Am I more grown up than Ikuko, the secretary in my office, because I don't live with my parents anymore? Or is she more grown up than me because she's about twenty years older?
Am I more grown up than all the stay-at-home moms I've met here because I have a full-time job? Or are they more grown up than I am because they're married with kids?
At any rate, it's not so black and white. There are a lot of stories about one magical point in time when a child suddenly becomes an adult, but I suppose I shouldn't sit around waiting for that moment to come, because growing up is a little messier than that. More like a maze of passages and staircases than an elevator. Kind of scary if you think about it. I'm a college graduate, but I'm not qualified to do anything. I can do differential calculus, but I can't do my own taxes. I look like a woman, but feel like a kid. Halfway in between.
Fortunately, halfway's not such a bad place to be for now. Take today, for example: I'm just grown-up enough to operate video cameras, copy machines, and CT scanners by myself, and just enough of a kid to make absurd videos like this for the Medical English class. :D
* I haven't exactly been on vacation since I was still teaching all of my private lessons, but I was able to travel a bit in between lessons. More about that in a later post.
** You may not realize it, but this is a huge achievement for me. Only nine months ago, I was the college student who slept through three alarms and ran to Japanese class in her pajamas at least once a week.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Friday, March 09, 2007
Taiwan: Travels of a Girl in a Blue Jacket
Back in January, I went to Taiwan for a few days to visit Kat, one of my friends from Stanford.
Over the course of the trip, I realized that I am definitely a huge geek. While I enjoyed the food, shopping, and touristy kind of things, I think I got the biggest kick out of staring at Chinese signs and trying to figure out what they meant. (Some of the characters in Japanese and Chinese are similar, so sometimes I could pick out characters I knew and piece their meanings together.) The weird thing was that although I could guess my way through a lot of the signs, I couldn't speak to anyone or understand any of the conversations going on around me. I guess maybe that's what it feels like to be deaf and mute...sort of half isolated from the rest of the world....hmmm.
Ok, now for pictures:
On my first night in Taipei, Kat took me to the night market, streets full of vendors selling cheap VCDs, DVDs, clothes, and food. Mmmm....
After a day and a half in Taipei, the biggest city in Taiwan, we set off for Hualien, a smaller town with very pretty scenery. Here's us at the gate to a national parkish sort of place...
...and inside the gigantic gorge.
I'm not sure if you can tell from these pictures, but the gorge really was gigantic....
with gigantic mountains all around.
This sign wasn't exactly too reassuring...
And so being properly forewarned of the falling rocks, I proceeded to pose for a picture right next to a gigantic pile of fallen rubble. Genius.
Me lingering inside a shrine in the mountain.
After the gorge, the tour guide took us to the beach. It was still too cold to swim, but the water was very pretty.
Later that night, we took a train back to Taipei where we found an excellent English sign,
the longest department store I have ever seen,
and more excellent food.
Oh yes, I also got to see Kat's dad's condo, which has a swimming pool, karaoke rooms, and this play area. I looove these plastic balls. Maybe I'll move to Taiwan :D
Over the course of the trip, I realized that I am definitely a huge geek. While I enjoyed the food, shopping, and touristy kind of things, I think I got the biggest kick out of staring at Chinese signs and trying to figure out what they meant. (Some of the characters in Japanese and Chinese are similar, so sometimes I could pick out characters I knew and piece their meanings together.) The weird thing was that although I could guess my way through a lot of the signs, I couldn't speak to anyone or understand any of the conversations going on around me. I guess maybe that's what it feels like to be deaf and mute...sort of half isolated from the rest of the world....hmmm.
Ok, now for pictures:
On my first night in Taipei, Kat took me to the night market, streets full of vendors selling cheap VCDs, DVDs, clothes, and food. Mmmm....
After a day and a half in Taipei, the biggest city in Taiwan, we set off for Hualien, a smaller town with very pretty scenery. Here's us at the gate to a national parkish sort of place...
...and inside the gigantic gorge.
I'm not sure if you can tell from these pictures, but the gorge really was gigantic....
with gigantic mountains all around.
This sign wasn't exactly too reassuring...
And so being properly forewarned of the falling rocks, I proceeded to pose for a picture right next to a gigantic pile of fallen rubble. Genius.
Me lingering inside a shrine in the mountain.
After the gorge, the tour guide took us to the beach. It was still too cold to swim, but the water was very pretty.
Later that night, we took a train back to Taipei where we found an excellent English sign,
the longest department store I have ever seen,
and more excellent food.
Oh yes, I also got to see Kat's dad's condo, which has a swimming pool, karaoke rooms, and this play area. I looove these plastic balls. Maybe I'll move to Taiwan :D
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Clone?
At jazz practice the other day:
Bandmate: Hey, did you go to the Fuji shopping mall in Matsuyama on Saturday?
Me: No, I was in my apartment all day. Why?
Bandmate: You really weren't there?? That's really strange....I swear I saw someone there who looked just like you.
Looking back, I believe that this conversation proves one of two things:
either (1) I have a clone, or (2) Miyazato Ai, Olivia Hussey, or Keira Knightley was in Matsuyama on Saturday.
Bandmate: Hey, did you go to the Fuji shopping mall in Matsuyama on Saturday?
Me: No, I was in my apartment all day. Why?
Bandmate: You really weren't there?? That's really strange....I swear I saw someone there who looked just like you.
Looking back, I believe that this conversation proves one of two things:
either (1) I have a clone, or (2) Miyazato Ai, Olivia Hussey, or Keira Knightley was in Matsuyama on Saturday.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Nightcrub Singer
I can't quite put my finger on it, but something has been keeping me from posting lately. It's not that I'm overwhelmed at work -- maybe I just spend way too much energy deciphering my student's Engrish and the rest of the world's Japanese. It sounds silly, but by the time I get home, I'm so tired from all this frantic listening that I just fall asleep instead of doing anything useful. Bah. Anyway, I am entering the month of March with renewed vim and vigor, and vow to post entries a little more often.
Since I haven't posted in like a month, let's go back in time a bit. In December, I made my first appearance with the Shinto priest's* jazz combo, the Cool Cats (クールキャッツ.)
Now, usually when I hear the name Cool Cats, I think of slick-looking men in zoot suits and sunglasses strolling down moonlit alleys. Or maybe those dudes in dark, smoky bars who recite poetry that doesn't rhyme. You know, finger snapping and bongos and stuff.
The Shinto priest's Cool Cats, on the other hand, are a tad bit different -- they're a group of old Japanese men. (Ok, so I'm not saying that old Japanese men can't be cool. I'm sure that there are scads of cool old Japanese men out there somewhere. It's just that you're never going to see any of these particular Cool Cats wearing zoot suits or playing bongos. They are very cute, though.)
Anyway, thanks to the Cool Cats and the Band Mastaa of the Crash Jazz Orchestra (the amateur big band from a previous post,) I've been exposed to quite a bit of Matsuyama's jazz scene. Naturally, I've noticed a few strange and wonderful things which I shall recount here.
In Japan, people who speak English are thought to be quite cool. Since most of the famous jazz standards have English lyrics, all of the jazz vocalists here sing in English, and hence the singers are the height of coolness.
One of the singers who performed with Crash for our Christmas concert is known around Matsuyama by his first name all in caps: YAMATO. I suppose that puts him up there somewhere in between Ichiro, Pele and Madonna. He really has a nice voice, kind of Frank Sinatra-ish, but there's one small problem -- he has a bit of an accent.
Actually, out of all the Japanese accents I've heard while I've been here, Japanese-Frank-Sinatra's is not so bad, but unfortunately for him, just one little slip up and he ends up singing things like Fry me to the Moon and Someday my Price Will Come. On the bright side, there are probably only about thirty people in the whole city who would actually be able to pick out his pronunciation issues, so I guess he's pretty safe.** But still, it seems such a shame to me that his musical talents have to be overshadowed by all those awkward r's and l's. (By the way, does anyone have any theories about why Italian and French accents are considered cool and exotic but Asian accents just aren't?)
Anyway, since my debut in December, my singing career has truly been blossoming. I've already sung at two more clubs and even received dinner invitations from adoring fans. :) Only one thing stands in the way of my quest to achieve the same one-name status as YAMATO, Ichiro, Pele and Madonna -- my first name is impossible to spell. I've been listed as Linzie, Miss Rinji, LINJI...just about anything you can think of. I guess it's sort of impossible for people with L-names to reach idol status in Japan. :)
* You'll recall from a previous post that I met my neighborhood shrine's Shinto priest at a festival in October. He plays the piano.
** Man, it's a strange feeling to sit in a room full of people knowing that you're the only one who can hear the weird accent. It's like going crazy and hearing voices or something -- even if you tried to tell someone what you heard, they would never understand. So I chill in a corner feeling strangely alone while everyone else in the club sits in bilssful ignorance. And Japanese-Frank-Sinatra steps into the spotlight looking quite debonair and starts crooning, "Start spleading za news, I'm reaving todaaay...."
Since I haven't posted in like a month, let's go back in time a bit. In December, I made my first appearance with the Shinto priest's* jazz combo, the Cool Cats (クールキャッツ.)
Now, usually when I hear the name Cool Cats, I think of slick-looking men in zoot suits and sunglasses strolling down moonlit alleys. Or maybe those dudes in dark, smoky bars who recite poetry that doesn't rhyme. You know, finger snapping and bongos and stuff.
The Shinto priest's Cool Cats, on the other hand, are a tad bit different -- they're a group of old Japanese men. (Ok, so I'm not saying that old Japanese men can't be cool. I'm sure that there are scads of cool old Japanese men out there somewhere. It's just that you're never going to see any of these particular Cool Cats wearing zoot suits or playing bongos. They are very cute, though.)
Anyway, thanks to the Cool Cats and the Band Mastaa of the Crash Jazz Orchestra (the amateur big band from a previous post,) I've been exposed to quite a bit of Matsuyama's jazz scene. Naturally, I've noticed a few strange and wonderful things which I shall recount here.
----
In Japan, people who speak English are thought to be quite cool. Since most of the famous jazz standards have English lyrics, all of the jazz vocalists here sing in English, and hence the singers are the height of coolness.
One of the singers who performed with Crash for our Christmas concert is known around Matsuyama by his first name all in caps: YAMATO. I suppose that puts him up there somewhere in between Ichiro, Pele and Madonna. He really has a nice voice, kind of Frank Sinatra-ish, but there's one small problem -- he has a bit of an accent.
Actually, out of all the Japanese accents I've heard while I've been here, Japanese-Frank-Sinatra's is not so bad, but unfortunately for him, just one little slip up and he ends up singing things like Fry me to the Moon and Someday my Price Will Come. On the bright side, there are probably only about thirty people in the whole city who would actually be able to pick out his pronunciation issues, so I guess he's pretty safe.** But still, it seems such a shame to me that his musical talents have to be overshadowed by all those awkward r's and l's. (By the way, does anyone have any theories about why Italian and French accents are considered cool and exotic but Asian accents just aren't?)
Anyway, since my debut in December, my singing career has truly been blossoming. I've already sung at two more clubs and even received dinner invitations from adoring fans. :) Only one thing stands in the way of my quest to achieve the same one-name status as YAMATO, Ichiro, Pele and Madonna -- my first name is impossible to spell. I've been listed as Linzie, Miss Rinji, LINJI...just about anything you can think of. I guess it's sort of impossible for people with L-names to reach idol status in Japan. :)
* You'll recall from a previous post that I met my neighborhood shrine's Shinto priest at a festival in October. He plays the piano.
** Man, it's a strange feeling to sit in a room full of people knowing that you're the only one who can hear the weird accent. It's like going crazy and hearing voices or something -- even if you tried to tell someone what you heard, they would never understand. So I chill in a corner feeling strangely alone while everyone else in the club sits in bilssful ignorance. And Japanese-Frank-Sinatra steps into the spotlight looking quite debonair and starts crooning, "Start spleading za news, I'm reaving todaaay...."
Monday, January 29, 2007
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Nodo Jiman
The following is the story of December 14th, 2006, the day that Rinji Gibon* became a Japanese pop star. Mark your calendars, because it'll probably become a national holiday in Japan someday. They don't have 外人の日 yet, do they?
I'm trying to figure out how to rip video from a DVD (does anyone know how?) but for now, you'll have to settle for this rather horrible picture taken from my laptop screen.
The Japanese Idol taping was scheduled for 7:30 PM, but my day started much earlier. On orders from the secretaries in the Anesthesiology Department, I reported to the medical school that morning at 8:45 to get my hair and make-up done. (A few days before, the secretaries had looked aghast when I mentioned that I planned to appear on the show without even bothering with lipstick. “I prefer to rely on my natural beauty,” I told them, but judging from their looks of shock, that line of thought apparently doesn't fly in this country.) After twenty minutes of curling, spraying, powdering and marveling at my pointy nose and beautiful eyes, they proclaimed their work finished and sent me off to the train station.
Every time I ride the train to
A little before 11:00, I arrived at the hall where the filming was to take place. I walked into the front lobby, past a gigantic line of people waiting to get tickets to the show, up the stairs, and into the green room where many of my fellow contestants were already waiting. The Nodo Jiman directors had us all introduce ourselves and then sit down in the order we were singing. As luck would have it, once again, I was dead last out of the twenty-four acts. Sitting next to me was Number 22, a former Nodo Jiman champion, and Number 23, a very nice motherly sort of lady whom I enjoyed chatting with throughout the day.
There were lots of interesting characters among the other contestants. I could probably write a whole separate post about them, but for now I'll stick to a quick rundown of my favorites.
Number 10: a very cute, elderly gentleman who really got into his song, jerking the microphone up and down like an out-of-control marionette. Although the directors had us practice reciting our numbers and song titles a zillion times throughout the day, this poor guy never could remember his, and during the show the announcer had to come over and whisper the words in his ear. He was terribly, terribly cute.I'm trying to figure out how to rip video from a DVD (does anyone know how?) but for now, you'll have to settle for this rather horrible picture taken from my laptop screen.
Red Sweater Man: This guy is absolutely in love with Nodo Jiman -- he had auditioned for the show unsuccessfully forty different times before finally making it on this episode. And boy did he make the most of his chance. In his minute of fame, he ran back and forth across the stage about a dozen times, pumping his fist and wailing about how he'd sell his soul to the devil for the girl he loves. Red Sweater Man, you rock my world.
The Cheerleaders: Yes, the ultra-peppy Hey Mickey cheerleaders from my audition group also made it on the show. After they introduced themselves in the green room, I realized that they actually aren’t high school students at all. In fact, I'm pretty sure that they’re quite a bit older than me. I probably should have guessed this, since all Japanese people look about ten years younger than they actually are. Once again, their performance was quite awe inspiring, and I hope to be able to show it to you on video someday.
The Samurai Motorcyclists: Their picture speaks for itself, I think.
We did walk-throughs and camera rehearsals from noon to about 6 PM, and all the while, the directors reminded us to smile. I had no idea how exhausting it is to smile for six hours straight, but no kidding, by six o’clock I felt like my face was stuck in this weird expression halfway between a smile and a grimace. Being a celebrity is pretty rough.
At 7:30, the taping officially began. The hall was absolutely immense. Standing on the stage and looking up at the five balconies, I felt like I was standing in the middle of that gigantic galactic senate chamber in the new Star Wars movies. It was pretty overwhelming. While each contestant sang, the rest of us sat on benches in the back of the stage and clapped and swayed and cheered. The unison swaying was a bit hokey, but if you got past the cheesiness of it all, it was good fun.
Although I had been really relaxed at my audition, during the actual show I think I let my nerves get the better of me. I really wasn’t all that worried about singing my song -- I had sung it a million times at karaoke, in my kitchen, and in the shower, so I knew that I could pull it off. No, the part that terrified me was the interview after the song. I knew that I would have to speak to the announcer in Japanese in front of all of those people, and I dreaded it. By the time I got up to sing, I was so nervous that my hands were shaking. After blurting out my number and the name of my song, I took a little breath and started the first verse.
In retrospect, I should have thought more about that first breath, because throughout the first few lines, I sounded like a scared sheep and felt like I was gasping for air. Fortunately, by the chorus, I settled down a bit and started to have fun. And then, right before the second verse, my turn was up and my glorious minute and a half of fame ended.
At that point, the announcer sauntered over and began to interview me. Unexpectedly, I managed to avoid sounding like a complete idiot for at least the first three seconds of the interview:
Announcer: So you teach Medical English to medical students at
Announcer: Where did you study Japanese?
Me: I studied for four years in
Announcer: And I hear that your grandmother is…?
Me: My grandma is Okinawan.
Announcer. Oh, really?? So now it has been three months since you came to
Me: … huh? (deer-in-headlights look)
Announcer: It has been only three months since you came to
Me: Oh, haha yes. *nervous chuckle*
Announcer: Can you tell us which word in the local dialect here has made the biggest impression on you?
Me: Dialect is difficult. *chuckle chuckle*
Announcer: Um, yes. What exactly is difficult?
Me: Oh, haha. The word ken.
Announcer: (Japanese thing that I can’t really translate) Well, you’ve done well for yourself here. Thank you!
Me: m(>_<)m
After a couple songs by two of the special guest stars (a very graceful lady in a kimono and a man with the most expressive eyebrows I have ever seen), the show wrapped up at about 9 PM. I didn’t become the champion, but I did come away with two fabulous prizes: a pretty sweet trophy and the autographs of all five of the guest stars. Also, I exchanged e-mails with some of the other contestants and increased my pool of karaoke buddies. So despite my attack of nerves, I really had a marvelous day.
---
I missed the actual TV broadcast because I was back in the U.S. when the show was on, but from what I gather, most of my students definitely watched it. Since I have returned to
As of yet, I haven’t received any phone calls from any record labels (which was to be expected after my somewhat less than brilliant performance), but I have become sort of a celebrity in my town. One day, when Tyler and I walked into a restaurant behind the medical school, the owner looked up and immediately cried, “I saw you in Nodo Jiman!! You were so cute!” Hearing this, everyone else in the whole restaurant turned around and pandemonium broke out. A little girl in the corner even started jumping up and down and yelling すごい!! (Fantastic!!) It was surreal. For the rest of the night, we could hear people whispering about us, and the little girl kept running over to peek at the gaijin celebrity at the next table.
Besides the folks in the restaurant behind the medical school, I also appear to have a following in several local convenience stores, an udon shop over in the next prefecture, and someone's mother's town in Kyoto. These people are all so cute. :)
Interestingly, all of my adoring fans seem to be most impressed with how pretty I looked onstage. The funny thing, though, is that when I finally watched the show on DVD, my first thought was, Wow, I look like…well…I look like someone who doesn’t know how to walk in a dress. It was seriously like watching Big Bird tottering across the stage in heels. But hey, if that's what Japanese people think is beautiful, I won't complain. I suppose I should take advantage of this situation. There must be dozens of modeling jobs in Japan for awkward-looking white people.
* There's something about my Japanese-ified name that just doesn't feel right. Maybe it's that Rinji sounds like a combination of "dingy" and "raunchy."
Perhaps it would be wise to come up with a stage name. Suggestions welcome!
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Upside Down and Backwards
Hi all, I'm back in Japan again after a very nice two-week trip back to Seattle. I ate entirely too much good food and visited lots of family and friends, so it was quite a fun vacation.
Between the 11 hour flight to Japan and the 12 hour bus ride to my island, I've had lots of time to reflect on my career plans and the decisions I've made in my life lately, and friends, I would like you to know that I have made quite an important discovery about myself. I know that you will find this hard to believe, but please bear with me and read on: I have mystical powers which allow me to control the weather. Behold the indisputable evidence:
# of large windstorms and resulting power outages while I was in Seattle: 0
# of large windstorms and resulting power outages while I was not in Seattle: 1
# of snowstorms while I was in Seattle: 0
# of snowstorms while I was not in Seattle: 2
There you have it. The weather in Seattle was clearly better while I was there. I bet you're even sorrier that I'm gone now, huh.
Thusfar, I have not discovered exactly where the source of my powers lies, although sometimes the big toe on my right foot starts to tingle right before it's going to rain. Rest assured that I will spend the next eight months learning how to harness my powers so that I can better serve you all once I return to Seattle in August.
I'm surprised at how sluggish my brain feels after just two short weeks of not speaking Japanese. While I can still understand most of the things that people say to me, when I try to answer, I have to think much too hard to fish even the easiest words out of the back of my brain. Everything seems hazy, upside down and backwards. It's a pretty weird feeling to be plunged into and out of English-mode so quickly.
Other weirdness since I've been back:
- On Tuesday afternoon, I ordered a green salad at a restaurant and was served a bowl full of cabbage, more cabbage, egg salad, onions, some sort of sprouts, and french fries.
- On Tuesday night, while waiting for a light to change at an intersection behind the medical school, I had a delightful conversation with a random man on the street corner. This particular man appeared to be going through some sort of midlife crisis (??). He looked about 40, but had long, Japanese pop-starrish hair and was wearing sunglasses at 9 o'clock at night.
Random Man: [pointing behind us at the medical school, and attempting to speak English] sukuuru. sukuuru. (School. School.)
Me: hai? etto, hai, igakubu desu. (Huh? Uh...yep...that's the medical school, all right.)
Random Man: kaeri? (Are you on your way home?)
Me: anou.... (Um...)
[Random Man concludes that I'm hesitating because I don't understand him, and valiantly attempts to switch back to English.]
Random Man: uiru yuu go tsu mai hoomu? (Will you go to my home?)
Me: huh? what? uh... no.
Mercifully, at this point, the light changed and I biked away and left him on the street corner. For those of you who don't know Japanese, the rest of the story will require a little extra explanation so I'm afraid it just won't be funny anymore, but here goes.
It wasn't until I was a couple blocks away from Random Man that I realized I had misunderstood his "English." In Japanese, mai hoomu doesn't actually mean "my home" -- it means "a person's personal home" -- so as it turns out, Random Man wasn't asking me to come home with him after all. He was just asking me if I was on my way home...which is a little less weird, I guess. Yes, I am definitely back in Japan.
- On Wednesday night, I edited another English journal article for one of the internal medicine doctors. As I read the first paragraph, something just didn't feel right to me, so I did a bit of research online. Sure enough, the first two sentences from the Japanese doctor's article were exactly identical to those in an abstract published by a doctor in Ireland. I asked Ikuko what I should do, and she said I should probably mention the sentences to the doctor when I handed back the article.
But when I showed the doctor what I had found, he kind of laughed and said, "Wow, you're good. You found those sentences, huh? Don't worry about it. Everyone copies stuff."
This can't really be the case, can it?
Fortunately for the dirty plagiarist, the Irish doctor apparently wasn't such a good speller -- there were two spelling errors in the first sentence of the original abstract. Since I corrected the spelling errors in the Japanese doctor's version, it will probably be a little harder for the journal editors to do a simple web search and find out that it's plagiarized. Ugh. I have this bad feeling that I unwittingly helped him get away with it.
I just got a phone call from the band mastaa and have to leave for jazz band rehearsal, so I'll have cut this entry short, but stay tuned for two upcoming back issues in which I detail my Japanese Idol appearance and my budding career as a nightclub singer. Bye!
Between the 11 hour flight to Japan and the 12 hour bus ride to my island, I've had lots of time to reflect on my career plans and the decisions I've made in my life lately, and friends, I would like you to know that I have made quite an important discovery about myself. I know that you will find this hard to believe, but please bear with me and read on: I have mystical powers which allow me to control the weather. Behold the indisputable evidence:
# of large windstorms and resulting power outages while I was in Seattle: 0
# of large windstorms and resulting power outages while I was not in Seattle: 1
# of snowstorms while I was in Seattle: 0
# of snowstorms while I was not in Seattle: 2
There you have it. The weather in Seattle was clearly better while I was there. I bet you're even sorrier that I'm gone now, huh.
Thusfar, I have not discovered exactly where the source of my powers lies, although sometimes the big toe on my right foot starts to tingle right before it's going to rain. Rest assured that I will spend the next eight months learning how to harness my powers so that I can better serve you all once I return to Seattle in August.
----
I'm surprised at how sluggish my brain feels after just two short weeks of not speaking Japanese. While I can still understand most of the things that people say to me, when I try to answer, I have to think much too hard to fish even the easiest words out of the back of my brain. Everything seems hazy, upside down and backwards. It's a pretty weird feeling to be plunged into and out of English-mode so quickly.
Other weirdness since I've been back:
- On Tuesday afternoon, I ordered a green salad at a restaurant and was served a bowl full of cabbage, more cabbage, egg salad, onions, some sort of sprouts, and french fries.
- On Tuesday night, while waiting for a light to change at an intersection behind the medical school, I had a delightful conversation with a random man on the street corner. This particular man appeared to be going through some sort of midlife crisis (??). He looked about 40, but had long, Japanese pop-starrish hair and was wearing sunglasses at 9 o'clock at night.
Random Man: [pointing behind us at the medical school, and attempting to speak English] sukuuru. sukuuru. (School. School.)
Me: hai? etto, hai, igakubu desu. (Huh? Uh...yep...that's the medical school, all right.)
Random Man: kaeri? (Are you on your way home?)
Me: anou.... (Um...)
[Random Man concludes that I'm hesitating because I don't understand him, and valiantly attempts to switch back to English.]
Random Man: uiru yuu go tsu mai hoomu? (Will you go to my home?)
Me: huh? what? uh... no.
Mercifully, at this point, the light changed and I biked away and left him on the street corner. For those of you who don't know Japanese, the rest of the story will require a little extra explanation so I'm afraid it just won't be funny anymore, but here goes.
It wasn't until I was a couple blocks away from Random Man that I realized I had misunderstood his "English." In Japanese, mai hoomu doesn't actually mean "my home" -- it means "a person's personal home" -- so as it turns out, Random Man wasn't asking me to come home with him after all. He was just asking me if I was on my way home...which is a little less weird, I guess. Yes, I am definitely back in Japan.
- On Wednesday night, I edited another English journal article for one of the internal medicine doctors. As I read the first paragraph, something just didn't feel right to me, so I did a bit of research online. Sure enough, the first two sentences from the Japanese doctor's article were exactly identical to those in an abstract published by a doctor in Ireland. I asked Ikuko what I should do, and she said I should probably mention the sentences to the doctor when I handed back the article.
But when I showed the doctor what I had found, he kind of laughed and said, "Wow, you're good. You found those sentences, huh? Don't worry about it. Everyone copies stuff."
This can't really be the case, can it?
Fortunately for the dirty plagiarist, the Irish doctor apparently wasn't such a good speller -- there were two spelling errors in the first sentence of the original abstract. Since I corrected the spelling errors in the Japanese doctor's version, it will probably be a little harder for the journal editors to do a simple web search and find out that it's plagiarized. Ugh. I have this bad feeling that I unwittingly helped him get away with it.
I just got a phone call from the band mastaa and have to leave for jazz band rehearsal, so I'll have cut this entry short, but stay tuned for two upcoming back issues in which I detail my Japanese Idol appearance and my budding career as a nightclub singer. Bye!
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Emanon
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.
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.
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
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