Warm and Fuzzy

A few months ago, I started teaching a new kid lesson on Friday nights, and it is the greatest lesson in the world for at least two reasons:

(1) Every week, the kids' grandma makes me real dinner (and dessert!!) before the lesson. If you recall a certain previous post, you'll probably understand why I'm so excited about dinner. :)

(2) The six little girls at this lesson have got to be some of the cutest kids in the universe.

Today, while I was eating dinner, one of the girls tapped me on the shoulder and showed me her notebook. Scrunched in the corner was a list of her four favorite things. It took me a minute to make out what she had written, but I finally realized that the list went like this: rabbits, octopuses, Lindsay-sensei, and learning English. These kids are the greatest. :D

----

Several weeks ago, at the same lesson:

Me: Would it be okay if we ended the lesson five minutes early today? My friend is in town from America this weekend, and I need to run to the train station to meet him for dinner.

Grandma Hashimoto: Sure, no problem! (to the girls) Ok, everybody, let's start the lesson on time today. Lindsay-sensei has specials plans tonight.

Yurie: Ok! Come on, guys. Sit down! Let's go!

Ayaka: Lindsay-sensei has special plans??? Like what??

Mai: What could they be???

Aiko: Oh, I know!! Lindsay-sensei, are you getting married tonight???

Coming Soon to Your Local Bookstore....

Being a stingy, penny-pinching miser, I booked the cheapest youth hostel I could find for my Okinawa trip. I figured that all I needed was a place to sleep for a few nights -- nothing fancy -- so I was quite surprised when I found that my bargain five-night stay came packaged with a magic show, an ethnic music workshop, and a philosophy lecture.

On my first night in the hostel, I went downstairs to the common area to check my e-mail and noticed a rather large, middle-aged man napping on the couch with his mouth wide open. Just as I started to wonder why he hadn't passed out in the privacy of his own room, one of the hostel staff members looked over and said, "Oh, you're wondering about Ken-san, huh? He owns this place." So I guess he was in his own room after all. Mystery solved.

I was about to finish e-mailing and go to bed when Ken-san woke up and spied me across the room. Still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he waved me over to the sitting area, and said in English, "Hello! Magician! I am magician!" In a few minutes he was wide awake, apparently beguiled by my gaijin charms. He eagerly whipped out a deck of cards, a rope, and a bouquet of flowers, and proceeded to show me a variety of card tricks, some more successful than others... :)

After an hour or so, I was about to excuse myself and head up to my room when Ken-san decided it was time to bring out his collection of small African hand drums. He talked me into trying one out, and after a mere fifteen minutes, he proclaimed me the best African hand drummer he had ever heard. Sweet. (I'm not sure exactly how Ken-san became an expert on African hand drumming, but hey, I'll take what I can get...)

A few nights later, I ran into Ken-san again in the lobby. This time he insisted that I join in a discussion he was having with another guy on the hostel staff:

Ken-san: Oh hi! Hey, sit down. I've been thinking and there's something important I want to tell you.

Me: Um.....oh? What's that?

Ken-san: Well, you see, it's like this. I realized when I was meditating in India that the world we live in is breaking. (other hostel staff guy takes this opportunity to make his escape from the lobby)

Me: Uh huh.

Ken-san: People are taking too much from nature and not giving enough back.

Me: mmm, I guess a lot of people don't have very sustainable lifestyles.

Ken-san: Yes! Yes! We are destroying the earth so quickly that it is losing its natural ability to heal itself. Actually, it might be too late to save ourselves even now. You see, there's this species of grass in India that has the life force to single-handedly stop global warming....

Me: mmm hmm....

Ken-san: Yes, the gods told me that this grass is the key, but it's slowly going extinct.....

[half an hour later]

Ken-san: ...so I sat under a waterfall in India, and after two or three hours, I finally realized something amazing. You won't believe this.

Me: (nodding and nodding some more)

Ken-san: Few people know this, but there are gods above the regular gods. And once we hear
these higher gods, we can discover the key.

Me: Ooohhh....really? The key, huh??

Ken-san: Yes. Yes! So now that I've finally been able to commune with the higher gods, I've made an important decision. I'm going to write a book! It should be done in three years, I think, and I'm going to call it 自然 25 (Nature 25). Pretty catchy, huh?

Me: Yes. Yes.

Ken-san: This book is going to be ol' Ken-san's way of saving the earth. You see, I must spread the word about the other gods, because if we take action now, we can heal the earth in just 25 years. Thus, 自然 25. Pretty slick, huh?

Me: Er, yeah. Um, wow....so...um how're we supposed to save the world?

Ken-san: Well, I'm going to sell the book all over the world, in America and especially China. And once brilliant young people like you read the book, they'll realize that it is their obligation to take action. The gods are calling you!

Me: (Captain Planet theme flashback) Ah...yes....er, well I'll be sure to keep an eye out for your book.

Ken-san: Yes, yes. Truly brilliant and talented people like you and my daughter need to hear the message. You guys will have to get in position to influence government decisions and make changes.

Me: Right. Right. Well, I'll definitely get a copy.

Ken-san: Good. I'm not worried about you. I am a little anxious about my daughter right now, though. Not really sure if she's hearing the message yet. She's taking her college entrance exams right now, but I can't quite tell if she's on the right track.

Me: Oh really? What is she studying?

Ken-san: Oh, law, I think. But I'm really hoping that she'll change her mind and become a dolphin trainer.

Me: ...

Ojisan, Fake Japanese People, and Sneaky Mutts

Can you guess which of these people are actually Japanese? I'll give you a hint -- two out of the four possible Japanese people in this picture are real. The other two are imposters! Choose wisely.

Have you figured it out yet?

While you're thinking, I'll go take a shower.



Lalalalala.....



Ok, I'm back.

If you guessed that Japanese Girls 2 and 3 are the fakes, you are exactly right! You deserve a fabulous prize.* For those of you who don't know them, Fake Japanese Girl 3 is my friend Kat from Stanford, and Fake Japanese Girl 2 is Shisei, Kat's cousin from Taiwan who's studying business and commerce in Kyoto.

This spring, Kat and Shisei came to my island to visit for a couple days and one afternoon we all went to Dougo Onsen, the oldest hot spring in Japan and the most famous tourist attraction in my city. Dougo is a three-story wooden building with several different public baths, and a bunch of tatami rooms where patrons can sit and drink tea. If you pay for a private room there, I think you can even have your own personal tea ceremony, which is supposed to be way cool. The only difficult part of the ceremony is sitting seiza (on your knees with your legs tucked under you) for the whole ceremony. My feet fall asleep after about ten minutes, so standing up at the end of the ceremony without looking extremely silly is a little difficult. Anyway, I digress....

Kat, Shisei, and I were sitting and chatting in one of the public tatami rooms in Dougo when a Japanese ojisan (old man) peeked in the door. He turned, frowned at Kat, who happened to be sitting cross-legged, and said in Japanese, "Hey, you. Why are you sitting that way when even that foreigner next to you can sit seiza?"

Unfortunately, Kat doesn't know too much Japanese (she was just visiting Japan), so she had no idea what he was talking about. There was sort of this odd moment where we all just looked at each other, and then finally Shisei said, "Sir, she's a foreigner. She can't understand your Japanese. Although actually, we're all foreigners...." That just about knocked Japanese ojisan's socks off. I think he was a little embarrassed to be fooled by the two fake Japanese people, (if only he knew that the girl he had called a "foreigner" was actually the only semi-Japanese person there....heh heh) but in the end, I think he was more excited to meet such fascinating foreigners, (he kept asking us over and over again which countries we were from :) and so, before we parted, we took a picture with him and his very embarrassed granddaughter(??) to commemorate the occasion.

The End

* Please send a self addressed envelope to me (KSS 302, 1533-2 Minara, Toon-shi Ehime-Ken, JAPAN 791-0211) and I will send you back something amazing...and thin. I'm serious. Send me an envelope! And a letter too if you feel so inclined. I like real mail. :D

Classy

At dinner tonight after the softball game:

Kosaka: So are you ever lonely living in Japan by yourself?

Me: Oh, sometimes, a little bit. Oh, but my family is coming here to visit me in June!

Everyone: Oh really!! Oh boy!!!

Kosaka: Hmmm....we should throw some kind of welcome party for them!!

Shimada: We could schedule a special softball game so they could watch!

Shinohara: I don't know....that might be kind of embarrassing. I'm not sure if we're up to American standards....

Shimada: Oh, you're right....we should do something high class! Takada-san, you can play your shakuhachi. (shakuhachi = Japanese bamboo flute)

Kosaka: Yeah!!! We can introduce them to Japanese culture.

Shinohara: Right, right. Japanese culture. High class.

Shimada: Yeah, high class.

Kosaka: Oh! Or we could have a barbecue.

Everyone: Ohohoho...a barbecue...yeah, yeah, yeah....

Okinawa: Gaijin in a Blue Jacket II

It has come to my attention that almost every photo in this blog is a picture of me in the same blue jacket. And unfortunately, dear readers, the Okinawa post will be more of the same. (On my next trip, I'll try my hardest to vary my wardrobe a bit...) I feel a little odd posting all these pictures -- kinda like I'm erecting a shrine to myself/blue jackets or something -- but Mom and Dad, I figure you would rather see a bunch of pictures of me instead of my attempts at taking artistic pictures of stuff, so I'll post them anyway.

＊＊＊

In the beginning of March, I found cheap plane tickets to Okinawa and went off to visit my dad's family there. I had met Ritsuko, one of my dad's Okinawan cousins, once about ten years ago when she flew to Seattle to help take care of my grandma. But that was ten years ago, and at the time, I couldn't speak any Japanese at all, so we didn't exactly talk much. All I have are these hazy memories of folding paper cranes with this silent Japanese lady.

And so armed with only a vague impression of my Japanese relatives, I really had no idea what to expect of the trip, but it ended up being amazing. Over the five days I was in Okinawa, I had dinner with a different "cousin" every night and met probably 15 or 20 different people. They were all very kind to me and took me all over the island. I enjoyed the touristy stuff, but actually I think the most exciting part of the trip was chatting with everyone and finally being able to put faces and personalities to the amorphous group of Japanese relatives I had heard about as a kid.

After arriving at the airport, I went straight to the youth hostel I had booked so that I could drop off my luggage. (By the way, the youth hostel was amazing and deserves its own post, which will be up shortly, I hope.) Anyway, I was walking down the hall of the hostel towards my room when I noticed a lady at the other end of the hall standing completely still and staring at me with her mouth wide open.

Now, people in my little town stare at me all the time, but when they stare, they do it carefully -- if I happen to look back at them, they quickly avert their eyes or pretend to look behind me. This lady, on the other hand, was making no attempt to hide the fact that she was gawking at me, which really weirded me out. After a rather awkward moment (Why are you staring at me?? Do I know you from somewhere? No, of course not....gah, now I'm staring at her. Ok, Linds, try not to look like you're staring....gah, she's still staring...what's going on???), I realized that she must be Ritsuko, the cousin who I had met in Seattle ten years ago. After I finally introduced myself, she explained that she had been really confused because I look nothing like I did when I was thirteen. (She has a point. She showed me a picture that she took on her trip to Seattle, and I was this super skinny kid with hair down to my waist wearing a backwards baseball cap and a Mariners t-shirt. Pretty different....although my fashion sense hasn't changed much. :)

Ritsuko is in her fifties, quite serious, organized, kind and very concerned that I enjoy my trip to Okinawa. Before I came to Okinawa, I had reserved myself a dorm-style room in the hostel, the kind you share with a few other complete strangers. I figured that I might as well get a cheaper shared room since I wasn't planning on spending much time in the hostel anyway, but when Ritsuko heard that, she wasn't too excited about the idea. She insisted that I sit in the lobby while she changed my reservation to a single room and paid for the upgrade herself. I tried to argue that I really didn't need the nicer room, but since it's impossible to argue with a Japanese obasan, I eventually gave up and just said an embarrassed thank you.

The next day was Ritsuko's day off, so she drove me around the main island.

This is the park around the Peace Memorial Museum where the Battle of Okinawa was fought during World War II. I've read stories about Okinawan civilians who jumped off the cliffs behind me to avoid being killed by American and Japanese soldiers. (More civilians were killed in the battle than Japanese soldiers, I think, possibly up to a third of the population of the island.) The park is a very pretty place now, but there are also huge lines of graves. It's pretty somber, but I suppose it ought to be. People should know what happened there, and it's sad that most Americans (and probably most Japanese) don't.



Next, we went to Okinawa World, a park with interesting exhibits on traditional arts and crafts and Okinawan culture. They also had a short show featuring singing, dancing and Eisa, a style of drumming that I had studied a very little bit back at Stanford, so it was cool to see it in person. At the end of the show, the performers invited the audience to come down to the stage and dance. Although I would usually rather die than dance, it actually wasn't so bad this time, probably because it was low key and most of the other Japanese tourists there were just as stiff and awkward looking as I was. :)



Ritsuko and me with the drummers.



Me learning another percussion instrument from one of the other drummer guys. I am a music nerd so I really got a kick out of the show and all of the instruments, but especially the sanshin, a Okinawan style banjo-ish instrument with three strings. By the end of the trip, I ended buying my own very cheap sanshin and now I sit in my apartment and mess around with it all day instead of writing blog posts. Fun for hours. :D



The next day, I met Ritsuko's son, Dai, and his girlfriend, Kiriko. In the morning, we drove around to try to find Dad's old house in Kiyuuna (my dad was born in Okinawa and lived there until junior high), but after driving up and down the same street several times, Ritsuko decided that it had probably been torn down. (The last time she had seen it was about ten years ago when Grandma and Karen came to visit.) We tried to take a picture of the view of the ocean from the spot where Dad's house would have been, but it's sort of at a weird angle so you can't see the ocean too well. :( Anyway, do you recognize the view, Dad?



Ritsuko, me, and Dai at a very cool restaurant near some pineapple fields. They seated us in this balcony outside, so it was very breezy and nice. :D



Ritsuko, me, Dai, and Kiriko outside a big aquarium overlooking the ocean. I should have taken more pictures of the ocean, because it really was amazing and postcardish, but sadly my camera was broken at the time, so I had to bum off of Ritsuko's when I could.

Dai and is a high school teacher and Kiriko works as a representative for some kind of education consulting company, I think. They were very laid back and big brother/sisterish towards me, which was fun. They're in their late twenties/early thirties and have been together for ten years, although Dai still lives with Ritsuko and Masako (his mom and grandma.) (Ritsuko kept saying, "I think they'll probably get married next year....well, I hope they'll get married next year." :)

At night, we had dinner with more relatives, Ritsuko's sister, Hiroko, half-sisters, Kumiko and Ikuko, and their families.


Whereas Ritsuko dressed fairly conservatively in pantsuits even on her days off, Hiroko was completely different. She's late forties/early fifties too, but every time I saw her, she was wearing serious nail polish, very high heels, and clothes that reminded me of a Japanese teenager. She is funny and more on the outgoing side though, so she can pull off the look somehow. I enjoyed her.

Kumiko is the cousin who is closest in age to my dad, and she told me that she still remembers playing with him when they were little. I guess they couldn't talk to each other because of the language barrier, but they ran around, and apparently Dad also threw a ball at her and hit her in the head once. :) (Sorry to digress into these little profiles. These are more for the benefit of my parents, but you can read on if you like as I will try to make it as amusing as possible.)


I also met Hiroko and Kumiko's children, and this is where it got a bit confusing. The three oldest daughters are named Ayano, Sayano, and Asano. Apparently, when they decided on names for their children, they didn't consult with each other much...

Fortunately, by now, I'm pretty sure that I have the three of them straight. Ayano is Kumiko's oldest daughter. She's a couple years older than me and went to college in Tokyo. When I came to Okinawa, she had just come home to look for a job after working in Tokyo for a few years. Since she hadn't been back to Okinawa for seven years, she was just as lost as I was in the city, but she still offered to take me around one day and we had a good time. Pictures of that in a sec.

Sayano and Asano are Hiroko's daughters, and they are absolutely hysterical. Apparently, they had been briefed that their distant quarter-Japanese American relative would be coming to visit, but hadn't actually seen me before. So when I walked into the restaurant to meet them for the first time, Asano turned around to look at me, looked completely baffled, and then finally said, "へ～、本当に外人さんみたい。。。" (Wow, you're really just like a foreigner...) ...And I am indeed a foreigner so she was right, but that's probably the weirdest response I've gotten yet to my gaijin-ness. Made me laugh. I think it is safe to say (in the most affectionate way) that Asano and her sister are a bit on the ditzy side. Sayano was late for dinner because she was doing her nails.


Their grandma, (and Ritsuko's mom) Masako, also came to dinner. She is a dear, sweet elderly lady, who unfortunately has some hearing loss, so sometimes she would say cute things out of nowhere that had almost nothing do with the rest of the conversation. Between Masako-Obasan and Asano and Sayano, that night's bizarre dinner conversation was probably the ultimate test of my Japanese listening skills because nothing quite made sense to me..... (Please don't misunderstand -- the following reenactment is not meant to be mean spirited. This is almost exactly how the conversation went and it was so funny.)

Asano: Oh! I should ask you questions about English... All of these foreigners come into my nail salon, and I can never understand what they're saying.

Me: Oh, that's too bad. Maybe I can help.

Asano: Oh good! Thank you!! Sooo...um...oh! I know! What does [unintelligible word] mean?

Me: Um...could you say that again? How were they using the word?

Asano: Um...let's see. It's..uh..well, you know, it's [unintelligible word.]

Me: Uh huh. (nodding gravely) Can you say it in a sentence?

Asano: Hmmm...well it was from some kind of magazine about...um...lions or Africa or something.

Me: Um....ok. It's...uh...the name of an animal??

Masako: Oh, there's no wild animal park in Okinawa, dear. Maybe if you went to Kyushu, though....

Me: Huh? Um, oh...really? ...

Dai: (laughing) Grandma, she's not talking about a wild animal park. She's....

And on it went. I loved it. :D



On Monday, Ritsuko had to work, so Ayano went with me around Naha and Shuri. It was fun to hang out with someone my own age. (Don't get me wrong -- I still love the old men of Ehime too.)

Here's us at Shuri-jo, the castle for the king of the Ryukyus back when Okinawa was its own country.



We also went to a big market in Naha. There were rows and rows of stands with huge mountains of boxes of candy and herbs and things I couldn't read.



The seafood part was also amazing, although I couldn't capture it so well in this photo. But the lobsters and fish were the hugest ones I have ever seen. You can see the lobster antennae poking out of that tank. I was a little afraid that they were going to pull me in with them.



The pork section was by far the most amazing. I guess they have a saying that in Okinawa, you use every part of the pig except for the squeal, and it's so true. Thankfully, I never did try pig face, but I did have sliced up pig ears one day. I guess they're a delicacy in Okinawa, but I wouldn't really recommend them. For me, they were somewhere down there with turtle hand...



After the market, we came across a shop where you could try making your own Okinawan pottery. We made plates with shisa, traditional Okinawan guardian dog-lion things.



On my last night, Ritsuko took me to a restaurant where they had live performances of Okinawan folk songs. At this place, the performers invited audience members onto the stage to sing in the middle of the show.

The guy in the white shirt was from Tokyo and was soooo excited to be on stage. He basically yelled into the microphone while sanshin man on the left looked on in amusement. After white shirt guy was finished, sanshin man asked for a female singer from the audience. At first, he kept looking back at a group of young Japanese tourists in the corner, but they were too embarrassed and wouldn't come up on the stage. Finally, since I knew the words to the song (涙そうそう -- it's really popular here), I ended up raising my hand to sing. Sanshin guy was really surprised and yelled "Stand up!" in English, while the rest of the Japanese tourists ooed and awed and snapped pictures of the gaijin who was going to try to sing in Japanese. I think that makes my fourth or fifth Japanese pop star moment. :)

Here's me, sanshin man, and the lady who played the drums after my Okinawan club debut.

Pretty Ugly II

The high school next to my apartment back in April when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

Jury's still out on whose idea it was to put up the barbed wire. Someone told me that the school wanted to avoid vandalism, but to me the barbed wire is a lot uglier than most graffiti would be...

Frankly Speaking...

At a lesson yesterday:

Me: Actually, I really don't like to wear dresses...

Student: Really??? (Looks geniunely astounded.) But you are so charming and have so good style....so I think you must look great in dress.

Style, eh? Well, I must say that I have impeccable taste in t-shirts and jeans.

------

Last week at lunch with friends:

Taiwanese friend: When I met you, I really thought that you were such a beautiful girl...

Me: Oh, wow...haha...gee thanks.

Taiwanese friend: ...well...until I heard you talk.

Actually, two other people said this exact same thing to me independently last week. I'll be the first to admit that my mannerisms aren't the most feminine, but man, with all these mixed messages, what's a girl to think?? =p

Changes

Due to my recent woeful inability to post anything, I have decided to make a little change to the blog. Starting today, I'll try to post a new picture every few days to keep things from getting too stale. (And I'll also keep writing when I can.) Hopefully, this will prevent any more month-long post droughts. これから頑張ります！

Today's pictures are brought to you by the words ugly and pretty.

Ugly:


This was the result of my failed attempt to do a load of laundry, answer the phone, reserve a bus to Fukuoka, find my lost jazz music, and cook dinner at the same time. Dinner was supposed to be okonomiyaki (a sort of Japanese pancake with cabbage, pork, squid etc. inside) but it turned out a little blacker than I had hoped. I tried to eat it but wisely gave up in the middle.



Pretty:
Flowers that the jazz band received at one of our performances. For some reason, the Band Mastaa decided to give them to me. Pretty sweet.

When I Grow Up...

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.

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

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.

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...."

Video!

Thanks to my brother, Nodo Jiman is now posted on the internet for your watching and listening enjoyment! You can watch the whole show here, or if you'd prefer to skip straight to my segment, check out this link.

Nodo Jiman

The following is the story of December 14^th, 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?

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 Matsuyama, people stare at me, but clad in a dress and heels, I instantly became an Old-Man-Magnet. Literally. This one guy actually walked halfway across the train car just so that he could lean over me and ask me why I was going to Matsuyama. After a few minutes of politely chatting with him and wondering how to say "personal space bubble" in Japanese, the train ride ended and I was able to make a graceful escape.

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 Ehime University, right?

Me: Yes, that’s right.

Announcer: Where did you study Japanese?

Me: I studied for four years in America.

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 Matsuyama.

Me: … huh? (deer-in-headlights look)

Announcer: It has been only three months since you came to Matsuyama, correct?

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 Japan, they've given me five DVDs and two videotapes of the show. :D

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!

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!

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.

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!

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