| Home Again, Home Again |
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| 07:14am 14/02/2005 |
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mood: Exhausted but refreshed music: Laundry
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I feel very tired and satisfied after a long week of company. Melanie and Tawny, the two awesomest girls on the planet - thank you so much for coming!! I'm exhausted, but I feel refreshed.
Some highlights of the trip:
Professor Snape's obsession with page 394: Starting with his scene as Lupin's substitute, in which he says "Page 394" like five times, we determined that Snape just has a thing for page 394. "Turn out your pockets - to page 394..."; "I overheard Snape telling Dumbledore: '394'..."; watching the trailer for the first movie: "Mr Potter, our new celebrity. Page 394." Then I come downstairs the next morning to find on my kitchen whiteboard "Jessica's Account Balance (according to Prof. Snape): $394"
On Thursday, we three girls met up with Shane and Andy at this hip Japanese-fusion restaurant for happy hour. Four $3 rum & cokes later, I am confronted with the funniest physical joke I've ever seen... Andy was simulating the technique for eating natto, holding the imaginary strings of fermented soy wrapped around his fingers. Suddenly Shane jumped in and was like, "Hey! Cat's cradle!" Both boys spontaneously pretended to do a Cat's Cradle with natto.
Melanie fixed Andy and me dinner on Wednesday night. We had half a dozen crepes each, with different toppings: ham and cheese and syrup, mango and strawberries and cream cheese, sugar and butter, etc. (Interesting fact: in Quebec I guess you can buy a brick of butter that weighs a pound.. which I've never heard of... in fact, Melanie was telling me about the way her mother cooks and the ingredients she uses, and it's all stuff I've never heard of. It's kind of similar to old-fashioned American cooking, I guess, like she cooks a whole chicken in the oven maybe once a week, that kind of thing. Awesome, but since I'm not used to it I don't think I could eat that way. ^.^)
Melanie and I went up to the top of the Bank of America building, where they have an observation deck. The whole week, the weather was remarkably clear, so the view from the 73rd floor was spectacular - the Olympic mountain range to the west, the Cascade mountain range to the east, Puget Sound to the south, and Mt. Rainier very clearly looming in the southwest. The Space Needle was fun, too, because it gives you a nice view of the city, but I would actually recommend the Bank of America building to someone coming to Seattle, if it's a clear day - the view is better, and it's cheaper than the Space Needle. (Lucky us, I have a wonderful aunt in the area who knows a sales manager at the Space Needle, so all three of us were able to go up for free. ^o^)
Mel and I were walking through a slummy neighbourhood around Pioneer Square, and we witnessed the most hilariously obvious drug deal I've ever heard of. Two guys in heavy coats standing in the middle of the sidewalk, in broad daylight, locked in something like a handshake with an obvious exchange going on, nervously looking around at anything but each other. Ahahahaha. I think we saw something similar happen in Vancouver. Honestly, people.
Vancouver, actually, was REALLY fun. We went up and got a beautiful hotel suite right on the main tourist shoppinig street, with a kitchen and everything. Mel and Tawny and I went shopping. The streets were completely packed with people out on the town! It was a pretty cold evening, but not even as cold as it had been in Seattle. Vancouver actually reminded me a lot of Tokyo, only much, much friendlier. Usually, in the US, when you go in designer clothing/make up stores you get those haughty salespeople who act really coolly toward everyone, maybe because it makes the atmosphere seem more expensive or something. I don't know. But up there, the people were really, genuinely polite, friendly, and seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Not only that, but this was Andy's first long car trip, and I can't even say how many people openly admired the car. The car is really cute, but I never would have expected the reaction we got. People would honk and give the thumbs up, or cheer as we drove by, or stop in the crosswalk to get a better look. Andy said, "This must be what it feels like to have boobs."
Anyway, I had a great time being on vacation this week. I'm glad I finally got a chance to get to know the city a bit better, and to reconnect with old friends (including Shane, who actually lives around here.) Now it's back to normal life, such as it is. Time to get that car and that job and start doing something useful with my days. :P |
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| Worshipping at the altar of the new TV |
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| 07:13pm 31/01/2005 |
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mood: Relaxed and Sleepy music: Andy's Homework Paper Rustling
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Our house is so cool. The new TV on the new TV stand and our new couch from which we can watch DVDs we got from our new Netflix account. We saw "Way of the Gun" last night, which was an excellent movie, Benicio del Toro is awesome.
Honestly, the best thing about all this new furniture and stuff is the memory foam mattress pad we got from Costco. It's a Queen size, but it fits ok on the Full size air mattress, for now (we're not getting the new Queen mattress until Thursday). We bought some jersey fabric sheets and pillowcases for the new bed. Oh god, it's so good! It's one of those things that feels so good that your brain shuts down for a few seconds every time you experience it. Like a really amazing chocolate truffle or a perfect piece of nigiri sushi. Both Andy and I keep shouting in ecstasy every time we lay down. "Oh GOD I FORGOT HOW GOOD THIS FEELS!" ^o^
Other than that, I've been cleaning up today and pretty much staying off my computer, which is new for me. The only time I spent on the computer was like three hours this morning, completely mesmerized by this true crime webpage. http://www.crimelibrary.com/ Oh, it's addictive. Seriously, if you have maybe half an hour to spend reading some awesome stuff, check it out. Do a search for Belle Gunness, Black Widow of the Heartland. I love the stories about those old-time female psychopaths. And dude! Ted Bundy went to the UW! Sweet. |
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| God, save me from your private school tuition |
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| 12:39pm 28/01/2005 |
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mood: CABIN FEVER music: Sakuranbo - Otsuka Ai
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I'm working on my personal statement, and I thought it might be a good idea to do some research about other schools in the area, so I could put something in there like "No other school in the area offers a BS in Psychology" blah blah or something
It's WACKY! I went on the National Center for Education Statistics website (http://www.nces.ed.gov/ipeds/cool/) and the College Board website (http://www.collegeboard.com/)... almost every other college in the area is a Christian school. Not just the Pacific Lutheran University and the Northwest College of the Assemblies of God, but harmless-sounding Seattle Pacific University (Free Methodist) and Seattle University (Jesuit). The only non-christian school that offers a degree in Psychology is the University of Puget Sound.
To my dismay, I found that many of these schools do, in fact, offer a BS in Psychology. Furthermore, even if they are Christian schools, they look like very good schools. So good, in fact, that, for example, the tuition at Seattle Pacific University is $18,822. Tuition at Seattle University is $20,070. The University of Puget Sound's tuition is $25,190. WHAT. These schools don't have any difference for non-residents - their fees are already higher than my UW non-resident tuition would be.
Holy freakin Jesus. So, in point of fact, UW *is* the only school I can attend right now. I can't afford the others! But... should I put that in my personal statement? Doesn't sound good... "Besides the demanding nature of the Psychology BS and prestigious reputation that the UW boasts, the main reason I have a compelling need to attend the UW is that it's the only school within a reasonable distance that I can afford!" ...Sounds a bit desperate.
*le sigh*
UW, can you hear me? Please, please, please let me in.
In other news, guess what I had for lunch? A tortilla-peanut butter-honey wrap! Agh, the sugar! |
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| The Curse Of The 40GB Laptop |
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| 11:37am 27/01/2005 |
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mood: Sweaty music: Garbage - #1 Crush
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A horrifying tale, indeed. Believe me, children, you never want to experience the spine-chilling terror... of downloading music... one day, like any other day... and SUDDENLY DISCOVERING YOUR HARD DRIVE TO BE FULL! *shriek*
I'm backing up my photos on CDs now. Only, I'm not "backing them up," I'm putting them on CDs and deleting them from my hard drive, which is kind of scary for me. I'm embarassed to admit that the single thing that takes up the most space on my hard drive is my 19GB of iTunes music files. ~_~ So if I want to make any room on my hard drive at all, I better burn some of those files on CDs, too. It's ok, though, I want to upgrade my system soon so I should back all my stuff up anyway.
Well, I've been working out a bit while the CDs were burning. Lots of fun in the Clark-Webright household today! |
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| Yesterday was a busy day |
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| 09:28am 21/01/2005 |
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mood: Focused music: RotK: The Grey Havens
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Written Thursday, 10:24 AM (on-board the ferry to Seattle)
It’s 10:24 AM on Thursday, and I’m on my way in to Seattle to visit the UW campus and talk to some people. I just called to sign up for the Psychology Dept. Transfer Advising Session held on the third Thursday of each month – how clever of me to come today. So, here’s how my day’s going to go:
I’m going to get to Seattle at about 11:20, then pick up a metro map and find my way over to UW. With any luck, I should be on campus by noon, leaving me ample time to walk around and find all the places I’m supposed to go today.
I think I’ll go to the University HUB (I guess it’s the student union, the Husky Union Building or something) and get some lunch. While I’m there, I can pick up some maps of the campus.
Around 1:30, I think I’ll try to visit the Residency office at 264 Schmitz Hall. I want to go over the residency application with someone and ask about the financial independence thing.
I have to get to 171 Mary Gates Hall at 2:30 for the general transfer advising session. That should be done at 3, and then I’ll have to hurry to 117A Guthrie Hall to meet with Vicky Burke, a Psychology Dept advisor. (She told me to bring my transcript, but I don’t have a printer. Lucky for me, I have a USB drive! Thanks, Dad!)
If I still need to go to the Transfer Advising Session I signed up for, I’ll go to that at 3:30. If it goes the whole time, I’ll be done at 4:30, and then I can head home. I should be able to catch the 5:30 ferry back to Bremerton, and I can text a message to Andy’s email telling him when I’m getting there. If I’m done earlier, I can maybe catch the 4:20 ferry.
…Since I’ve left my house this morning, two strangers have started conversations with me, completely unprompted. And in fact, both of them were asking me about my computer equipment. I took out my iPod on the bus this morning, and was instantly asked by a very ragged looking man how many songs I had on it. I looked in Settings:About and told him that I had 1859, and was asked what kind of music I liked, etc. (He liked grunge rock. Go figure.) This cute black chick sitting near us added a few comments – turned out she was from Oakland and he was from Florida. Um… weird. Then just now, I had another ragged looking man stop as he passed me and ask me about my computer. I’ve never had my tech junk elicit even a second glance before. Is this some weird trailer-trash pick-up line thing? Both were like “Oh, I was thinking about getting one of those…” – and both were missing some teeth. Coincidence? I think not.
People are weird here. The bus driver this morning was irrationally friendly.
Update: 1:48 PM
I’m sitting across from a guy in what looks like a billed beret who has the exact same computer as me. This day is just full of weird.
I’m sitting in an open study area in Mary Gates Hall. This single room is prettier than anything on the San Francisco State campus. I’ve been around to all the buildings I need to go to today, and I came across this room next to the advising center. I’m very impressed with this campus. I think they might spend less money on the architecture and give us out-of-state students a break on our tuition, but still, the grand, castle-like buildings and cathedral-like library give the school a majestic kind of atmosphere. I don’t know. Castle.
I went to the Residency office, and asked about how I could prove my financial independence without this years tax returns. I was told that I should keep all my pay-stubs and any other proof that half of my money wasn’t coming from my parents, and I would also need a notarized letter from my parents promising not to claim me as a dependent on their taxes. Well. That’s straight-forward, isn’t it? I hope the fact that I’ll be pretty much financially dependent on Andy doesn’t hamper the process.
Further update:
It's now 9:36 AM Friday. I'm trying to get information about what I have to do for GED requirements and stuff. Good news! I'm probably not going to need two more years of school, after all. Incidentally, I want to comment on the downtown public transportation in Seattle - it is better than Disneyland. That's all. |
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| Ponderings while home alone |
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| 11:46am 11/01/2005 |
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mood: happy music: Cecilia Bartoli
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I'm waiting for a plumber to come by to look at our upstairs faucet. It's like a bad porno set-up, only I'm wearing a sweatshirt and a knit beanie instead of a lacey teddy, plus I have no make-up on and I haven't showered.
Yesterday, workers came to deliver our screens for our windows. The guy came to our front door and said, “You think your husband’ll be able to figure out how to put these on?” That’s a bizarre statement on a couple levels. First, husband? I guess up here it’s polite to assume that we’re not living in a state of sin or something. Secondly, why would I wait for Andy to come home to put the screens in? I just played along without thinking, assured him Andy was a very handy guy, promised I’d let him know how to hold the flap while he was installing the screens, and thanked him for his time. When the guy left, I closed the door and stood there for a few seconds. Then I burst out laughing and installed the screens myself.
I'm planning to go over to UW on Thursday. Today I'm thinking to write an email to the residency people at UW. On the website it definately says you can take up to 6 credits without it hurting your ability to establish residency. However, non-residents still pay $3582 for 6 units, as opposed to $1056 for residents. This residency thing is so stupid. But if I can take some classes I want to... it'll make it easier to go back to school full-time in a year if I'm still in the habit.
And as for a job... I'm planning to walk over to Starbucks maybe today (if the plumber guy shows up sometime), and try to fill out an application... maybe while I'm there I could put in an application at Quiznos, maybe even (gulp) Dominos Pizza. I really don't want to work at any of those places, but they are walking distance from our house, and it doesn't hurt to have a few options. Andy and I were talking about it, and we're thinking maybe to buy a car that we could share (he doesn't really need a car to get to work, since he can walk to the park and ride from our house) and then I could use it to get to work. We only have a one-car garage anyway. If I could get a nine-to-five style job, which I'd prefer so I'm working the same time as Andy, then I could drop him off at the park and ride in the morning before I go to work too. That would be awesome. *Shudder* I don't want to work in the service industry again! ;_;
In other news, I randomly had a dream almost entirely in Japanese last night. It involved me going to Japan with Rocco and some other person and attending a Japanese high school, and then a bizarre story about some object that gives you immortality... all I remember from that part was TM Revolution becoming immortal and his enemies finding they couldn't kill him, so they killed all his loved ones in front of him instead. Yes, TM Revolution. My brain is demented.
Ok, I think Andy's having lunch right now, so I should too, so we'll be hungry for dinner at the same time. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| last day of the honeymoon |
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| 08:39pm 09/01/2005 |
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mood: Pleasant music: Andy's Computer Hum
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Tomorrow, Andy starts work. Oh, reality. Home alone in my big house. The first day will be fun, though. I think I'll vacuum. |
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| now hailing from Bremerton, WA |
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| 07:12pm 06/01/2005 |
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mood: satisfied music: Dishwasher
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I haven't written on the Blurty for a long time, but I just have this desire to post something on the internet to make my move official. I've already sent out a mass email, but hey, this is like telling the whole world. I am currently in Bremerton, Washington, with my boyfriend Andy. We're renting a beautiful house in East Bremerton, halfway between the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard (where Andy will be working, starting Monday) and the Kitsap Mall in Silverdale (where we can go shopping once we have money resulting from said job).
Lots of new things to experience. We stopped into a mattress store yesterday called "It's Bedtime" and ended up talking to a salesman there for maybe 30 minutes, laying on different types of mattresses, memory foam and all that. It's really weird for me, thinking about spending maybe a thousand dollars on some mattress with a ten or twenty year warranty. Having the same bed for ten or twenty years? That sort snaps you into reality, doesn't it? It's like "Real life starts.... now!" But that aside, the salesman was really, really nice. I'm thinking that when the time comes to buy a bed, we may just head back over to "It's Bedtime".
But this is a trend I'm noticing up here - people are strangely, unnecessarily friendly. Even when we went into Seattle today, people were just strangely nice. I never thought people in San Francisco were unpleasant or anything, but it's strange to have store clerks, even young people, just smile and make conversation with you. And all the men have beards. There are a lot of things up here that are different than what I'm used to. There are way fewer people of color in these parts (so I'm glad we have a philipino landlord and lady!) And I was surprised to see christian slogans out on public display on signs for stores with no relationship with a church, like car dealerships and payday advance places. And I hear christian rock playing in many more stores than I'm used to (well, coming from San Francisco, I'm used to none.) This being a military town, almost every car has a "support our troops" ribbon on it's bumper. These are all things I'm not used to, but they aren't necessarily unpleasant. Any negative is balanced by the spectacular view of the mountains we get on clear days. And the fact that there are trees everywhere you look! The air is clean and it smells good. And Seattle is so pretty!
So, in conclusion, I find myself very comfortable in my new surroundings, in my cozy house with my wonderful boyfriend who cooks me delicious food and showers me with love. My next step is to figure out what I want to do with myself now that I'm here. I want to apply to the University of Washington (but out-of-state tuition there is killer, so I need to do more research). I want to get a job soon, but what can I do? Am I doomed to hold a part-time job at Starbucks? Am I up to a clerical position, or something even more demanding? My future is hazy right now. But, in other news, I'm rewatching Lord of the Rings with Andy! He hasn't seen it before, nor does he know anything about it, so we're taking it slow - one DVD at a time. You know what? I think it works really well as a mini-series. We're watching disc two of The Two Towers tonight. I can't wait for the battle of Helm's Deep! More updates soon.
PS Can anyone guess whether Andy likes Harry Potter or LotR better? :) |
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| On Vacation |
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| 02:42pm 25/07/2004 |
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I'm in Nevada, stopping at my mom's dad's airport, on our way up to my dad's dad's 85th birthday up in Idaho. It's pretty hot out in the desert here, but we're having a good time. Spending time in this part of the country is certainly more of a culture shock, out with the slot machines and the cowboys and the huge open desert spaces and big sky. We stayed with a friend of my mom's in Reno last night, and I asked one of the sons, who I grew up playing with as a kid, if he had any ambitions to leave Nevada. He replied that no, he really didn't - it's his home, and even if he ever left he would probably end up coming back. "I wouldn't do very well in a foreign country," he said. "*I* would be the foreigner." Makes perfect sense. I feel it. Now that I'm back in the Bay Area, I feel so at home. I know how to get things done, and more than that I can interact with people if I don't know how to do something. I understand what socially appropriate means here, I know what I have to do in order to not offend anyone, to make people like me or whatever. It's strange to realize how comforting those things are. It's probably part of what scares me about being so comfortable back home, because I never want to settle into complacency. There's a fine line between being competent and comfortable in the place you're in while balancing your life with new challenges and variation, and being so comfortable that you allow yourself to stagnate. I envy people with the drive to get out and find new challenges - I've always found my natural inclination is to take shelter in routine and reclusiveness. It's just something I've been thinking about lately. Once school starts, I'm sure that there'll be more obvious opportunities for challenges and new experiences. Anyway. I'm kind of sleepy, so maybe I'll go lay down for a bit. |
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Read 7 - Post |
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| I want to wake up where you are |
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| 09:15pm 25/06/2004 |
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mood: tired music: Goo Goo Dolls
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Yes, I'm coming home soon. I'm happy and sad, as is to be expected, but I expected I would feel more depressed about it. I think I'm just distracted by stress, maybe I'll get hit with depression on the flight home. But I've been ambivalent the whole year, feeling both like I wanted to go home and also that I never wanted to be anywhere besides Japan. I've found a happy place the last few months focusing on how much I enjoy living here, but now it's time to focus on how happy I am to be going home, which I think I'm doing by nature.
Andy's not a college student anymore! Today was his last day! He receives his undergraduate degree in engineering when he goes home, but for now I'm just so proud of him that he's actually finished with all his hard schoolwork. I can't wait to spend some time with him back home.
Anyway, tomorrow's the last time I'm going to see most of the people from the kokusaibu. It's sad, but an acceptable level of sad. I just hope I can wake up in the morning feeling rested - I'm exhausted after two weeks of not enough sleep. Anyway, I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed. btw: San Francisco Comedian There you go, Ryan. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| No actual events, just thinking |
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| 02:20am 14/06/2004 |
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mood: Going to bed music: Placebo - Runnin' Up That Hill
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Who are these old old old people In these nursing homes Just scowling away at nothing? Like big rag dolls just cursing at the walls And pulling out all of their stuffing. Every day is a door leading back to the core Yes, old age will distill you. And if you're this this this full of bitterness now Some day it will just fill you. -Ani
I was thinking today….
I think I can articulate my goal in life. I want to simply understand as much of the world as possible. I was thinking about the way that some people are content with their own narrow slice of life, and when confronted with a concept that is novel or shocking to them, or something they haven’t seen before or every considered, they recoil, are put off, repulsed – they reject it outright, or at least categorize it firmly in the soto (out-group) and ignore it. So I’m convinced that there's a certain personality trait that I have, that when I’m confronted with a thing that is new or that I’ve never considered, I’m fascinated, tantalized, I want to know more. The more shocking, the more I feel a desire to understand it.
I’m also convinced that this is partially where my fascination with Japan comes from. And the interest in language in general – I think that trying to understand a culture without trying to at least understand the basics of the language is futile at best. I think that that is my main motivation behind learning Japanese, and it started back in the day with wanting to understand enough Japanese to watch anime and stuff, but that’s a perfectly noble cause when you think about it. It’s made such a HUGE difference in my appreciation of Japanese popular medias to be able to consume them in Japanese. And it’s gone hand in hand with a greater understanding of the culture, in the sense that I have all these years of watching anime under my belt, with those subliminal cultural cues ingrained in my brain, so when I encounter those things in Japan I’m not shocked and I understand more easily and intuitively. Things like Japanese gender roles and hierarchy fascinated me when I was young, when I couldn’t even articulate why I was so interested. Now I have to interact with it, and I can sort of anticipate it. With a greater understanding of the language, the culture becomes much more accessible.
Of course, this is a bit idealized, I mean sometimes I’m confronted with something alien and I recoil, or more often become frustrated or defensive. But, it’s kind of a self-image that I have, and being able to articulate it, I hope to be able to recognize situations when I react negatively and adjust to a more positive response. I always have trouble with personal relationships with people who are different from me in some significant respect. In most cases, those differences are in fact something that attracted me to, and brought me to love, that person. But they can also sometimes be the most trying to deal with when personalities come into conflict. The most important lesson to take out of personality conflicts is that you can never change someone else, but you can change your own attitude.
Case study: Andy
I love this man with all my heart. Probably the single thing that most attracted me to his personality is how straightforward and uncomplicated his psychology is. He doesn’t carry around baggage. Every once in a while, when he’s not sure how to express some emotion to me, he’ll bust out in his Forrest Gump voice, “I’m not a smart man… but I know what love is.” He’s an engineer, and indeed a very linear thinker, honest and brave. His emotions are so pure, he doesn't hesitate to put himself on the line when he feels something strongly. Of course, this has a flip side. He doesn’t think deeply about things – at least, not the things I think deeply about. I don’t think his brain is built that way. He’ll often get distracted, ADHD style, in the middle of conversations by random things that catch his eye. I can’t recall another person I’ve met who’s answered so many of my questions with “I’ve honestly never thought about it before.” I can already anticipate what questions will produce that answer. Sometimes, it's frustrating for me because I define so much of who I am on thinking and having deep conversations. And yes, sometimes things bother me because I read so much subtext into every situation. And he'll become frustrated, and say, "Just stop thinking so much!" So I feel limited and worry that I can't relate to him on that level.
My conclusion? It’s been bothering me for the past couple days. But after all that I feel good about it now. You don't have to relate to every single person in your life on every single level. I had the most wonderful conversation with him a few days ago about sports. I'll find the ways that we can relate, but it's important to realize that the most important thing in a relationship is how well the two people get along, the respect and trust they have for each other, not necessary their common interests. There is a deeper connection that you have to strive for, beyond the conversations where you're both going "Oh, YEAH! I feel exactly the same!" In my life, I need to have a lot of different people to fulfill all my different aspects. There are lots and lots of people in the world who want just one person, a combination lover/best friend/confidante/partner in all things. But I don’t think that’s what I want or what’s good for me. If I have just one person who fulfills the minimum of all my requirements, then it’s too easy for me to sink into that comfortable relationship, and there’s not enough pushing me to keep searching and growing and discovering new people.
And this brings me back full circle to my original topic, that I need to always be discovering and learning about the world. I think, if there ever comes a point in my life when I’m not changing anymore, then I better get with it. I’m not like Tawny, to whom the prospect of mental stagnation is worse than death – in fact, for me there are a lot of temptations in “settling down,” physically and mentally, and getting used to being a certain person, and not having to deal with the challenge of change. I’m lazy, yes… I blame my parents’ unconditional love. But, I visualize my brain like some kind of wild animal that, if caged, goes crazy for a while, then becomes subdued, and eventually loses its spark and beauty. I know that’s overly poetic, but I think I’m trying to convey a feeling like, it would be so easy to fall into that trap because it’s easy. But it’s not what I really want and it won’t really make me happy. What I need to figure out is a balance, between the emotional anchorage I do crave, and a continued pursuit of new experiences.
Wahoo! It’s 2:15 AM. I have school in a few hours. Living a life rife with peril, that Jessica! ;_; |
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| "I'm afraid of Americans" -David Bowie |
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| 01:17am 04/05/2004 |
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mood: Nooo! music: L'arc~En~Ciel - I'm seeing them next week!!!! :D
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God, I am going to miss Japan SO MUCH when I come back to the states. I mean, I love America, and there’s no denying that I’m a product of American culture to the core, but…
Well, for example, today two of my friends and I were trying to get somewhere on a bus, and my friend Mel asked the bus driver how much it would cost to get to a certain place, and he simply and directly said “That’s not this bus. It’s the next one.” No polite speech, no indirectness, NOTHING. He didn’t even give us an “excuse me”. And we were all INSULTED! We all felt like he had been rude to us! We’re the customer, and strangers on top of it! We deserve a certain amount of respect. We were all like, “Wow, well that wasn’t very nice.” And then we all thought about America. And we wanted to stab ourselves in the stomach, because people in America could care less about anyone besides themselves. Not to mention they’re all FAT, ignorant, apathetic, arrogant, and they have absolutely no taste.
Let me start with fat. This goes along with no taste. In Japan, there is a deep cultural value of presentation. I just read a book about it, called Wrapping Cultures by Joy Hendry, in which she describes the various ways that the idea of "wrapping" can be applied to aspects of Japanese life. You don't leave the house looking bad, ever. No matter what, you are IMMACULATE in your presentation of yourself to the world. You dress perfectly and completely, i.e. whatever style you are going for you pull it off to the very last detail. Even the girls in Shibuya who are supposed to look trashy - it's amazing how much detail goes into those outfits. They're never actually dirty, their hair is impressively styled and their clothes are clean. You simply don't see a woman on the street in sweats. You do see fat people, but the scarcity is ridiculous compared with America. The emphasis on skinniness derives from this presentation culture, as opposed to our culture where we encourage people to not put an emphasis on the way they look, because it's what's on the inside that counts. Japan... does not think that way. What's on the inside counts, but in a very different way than what's on the outside, and with the outside, what counts most is conforming to cultural ideals. The inside is for yourself, your close circle of relationships, and that's it. Some things never come out of your head at all. People don't judge you on whats inside, but on how you deal with presenting yourself.
This description sounds really negative, now that I try to look at it from the viewpoint of an American. But it's not intended that way. It's simply another way of looking at the world. It translates into an all-around attitude, of politeness, deference and humbleness before strangers, and of self-control under all circumstances. Within myself, I was raised in the American system, of always looking out for number one, and from that stand-point this culture looks ridiculous. It must be so unhealthy, we Americans think, to not take care of your own needs first and to keep all those emotions pent up. That's probably true, and Japanese people obviously do have strong emotions that they express in certain culturally acceptable ways. And what I've discovered is that, it's not culturally acceptable to be unhappy, or lazy, or negative - and therefore people don't indulge in those emotions openly. I have never seen a mother yelling at her baby. I have never seen a loud argument on the street. I mean, yeah, the culture is changing and there is some degree of conflict between young and old, but it's so minimal. And after living in this place for so long, and learning to think about what impression you are making on strangers, and how you are impacting their lives by your actions - I just know I'm going to feel so uncomfortable back in America where the whole attitude is so different. Oh god, I'm gonna be bowing, and saying excuse me all the time, and I'm going to be freaking out about things in my appearance or demeanor that never bothered me before. And I'm going to feel like everyone hates me so much, just because in Japan I've become so hyper-sensitive to the subtle signals people give.
The part about apathetic and arrogant, I didn't learn from the Japanese. But the people I interact with most intimately day to day are the other international students, many of whom are European or Quebecois. I knew so LITTLE about Quebec before I met Melanie! I was so ignorant, and jeez, it's on the same continent as us for christ sake! I've also learned a lot about Europe and other Asian countries. And most of what I've learned makes me just feel sick thinking about people back in the states. Um... Freedom Fries? And how many times have I heard comments from Americans about how stupid Canadians are? Or completely uneducated comments about Europeans or Asians? And of course, the Japanese... GOD the misconceptions I've had to deal with. Everything from people still harboring the disturbing image of the Japanese as Kamikaze in World War 2, to people making terribly ignorant imitations of what they think CHINESE sounds like when I tell them I'm learning JAPANESE, and for chrissakes they are entirely seperate countries and in fact the languages sound NOTHING alike. NOTHING.
Of course, I know people in America who are wonderful, educated, intelligent people who are curious about other cultures and don't arrogantly assume that all the universe revolves around America. But I would say that these people are a tiny minority, the exception to the rule, and they are far out-numbered by Americans who really have no right to be taking advantage of all the wealth and priviledge they are born in to.
Ewwww.... I don't want to go back. I don't want to. I don't want to. I want all my loved ones to come here. I don't want to go back. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| Don't Blow My Buzz |
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| 01:18am 30/04/2004 |
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mood: School Is Ridiculous music: Eminem & D12 - Purple Pills
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I don't want to leave Japan. It hit me sometime in the last month that this study abroad thing is BS. I mean, you go to a completely different country and culture, where you have no friends or family, and rebuild your entire life from scratch, trying desperately to get to a comfort level where you don't feel constantly alienated and lonely, and at the point when you've made strong friendships and connections, and re-adjusted your worldview so that you can be comfortable in this culture, and you have routines and habits and favorite places, then you get to do it over again and go HOME, but this time you have no assurance that you'll ever come back to this place that you’ve come to think of as your home. And you get to spend another six months being uncomfortable with your OWN CULTURE until you adjust back to your old life. Then all your old friends are still the same but you've changed, and it's really hard for them to care about hearing about the culture that you've been in for a year. That’s messed up.
In other news, yes, the rumours are true: Jessica has re-assessed her opinion of Eminem, and is now listening to him pretty much all the time. It’s a phase. [Ja Rule] Em, you claim your mother's a crackhead and Kim is a known slut. So what's Hailie gon’ be when she grows up?
[Eminem] Hailie! (what!) Come here Baby, bring Daddy his Oscar. (ok.) We're gonna shove it up Ja Rule's ass. (hahaha!)
[Hailie] Daddy, is Ja Rule taller than me?
[Eminem] No Honey, you guys are the same size. |
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| Two in one day! |
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| 05:46pm 25/04/2004 |
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mood: thoughtful music: Gackt - Vanilla
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Ruth Benedict writes: "The change of status (from carefree child to debtor to society) is communicated to the growing boy... by the time he is eight or nine his family may in sober truth reject him. If his teacher reports that he has been disobediant or disrespectful and gives him a black mark in deportment, his family turns against him. If he is criticized for some mischief by the storekeeper, 'the family name has been disgraced.'... The family shows that it now looks upon the boy as their representative in the world and they proceed against him because he has incurred criticism. He has not lived up to his giri-to-the-world (debt to the world). He cannot look to his family for support."
Yeah, a lot of what Benedict wrote was false, but this is something that's worth thinking about. This applies to the current issue with the three Japanese people who were held hostage in Iraq. The Japanese government issued a warning to Japanese citizens that Iraq was dangerous. These three people were all working for humanitarian causes - at least the woman was a school teacher, and the other two were also social workers of some sort. They risked danger to go and help people in need. They became victims, and the Japanese government paid a ransom for their return. So in the West we hail them as heroes.
The attitude in Japan is very different, however. In Japan, they are viewed as having incurred a huge debt. They brought shame on Japan as a nation. I hadn't realized this when I was watching the televised coverage of their return. It didn't show smiling faces or crying or family reunions. What it showed, over and over, was footage of the three walking from a building to a vehicle, looking like they wanted to kill themselves, holding back tears. The woman walks constantly bowing, step by step, bowing up and down, which seemed really strange to me at the time - who was she bowing to? It didn't make sense. Why aren't they happy? Now it makes perfect sense. Those three owe their lives, not just to the government or the emperor, but to every Japanese citizen. The Japanese could be described as considering themselves one massive in-group, and the actions of these three are felt to bring a shame to the entire in-group. There are even those in Japan who feel that those three should have been allowed to die. This is a view that is almost incomprehensible to us in the west.
In conclusion: As Joy Hendry writes: "A person wearing a suit is a person whom one can address, a person with whom business can be conducted, even is an interpreter is required to translate the actual words spoken into the language appropriate to the country concerned. It is of no great interest to a Western representative if the person they are facing has quite different thought patterns. This is something that may never enter the head of someone on their home territory. What are different thought patterns anyway?" When looking at the Jajpanese, we in the West look at the surface because that is where we express ourselves - it does not occur to us that, even if the Japanese dress like us and have big buildings and roads in their cities like us, and make cars that we like to drive, that they may be, at their core, fundamentally very different from us. |
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| Japanese Majors |
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| 03:58pm 25/04/2004 |
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mood: Productive but headache music: BoA - Rock With You
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It's a commonly accepted fact among students of Japanese that studying Japanese SUCKS. We do it because we're masochists, because we love it, but we openly acknowledge that you have to be a special kind of crazy to want to study Japanese.
A quote from a book I'm reading for school, Wrapping Culture, by Joy Hendry: "One distinguished Japanese linguist of my acquaintance claims that he finds it a kind of psychological torture to listen to foreigners speaking Japanese, even 'perfect Japanese', because he can't understand their 'real intent'. ...It would seem to be the layers of linguistic wrapping which he feels are somehow misused, or perhaps he just cannot believe that they can be properly used by foreigners. His ideas, like those of many other Japanese, betray a conviction that his language is somehow unique..."
THIS is why it sucks to learn Japanese. No matter how modern the world gets, for the most part Japanese people still have a deep-seated belief in the superiority of the Yamato race. Americans believe the same thing about their own country, but when someone wants to join the group and be like us we are more than welcoming. All you need to do to be a full-fledged American is speak fairly good English without a heavy accent and dress like MTV. Have you ever heard the term "henna gaijin"? It literally means "Strange Foreigner" - a term used by the Japanese to refer to foreigners who like Japanese culture too much, or somehow actually want to assimilate.
I love Japan! But I just want to laugh at the students who actually want to major in Japanese or get fluent in Japanese. You're working really hard just so you can be ostracized by an entire country, buddy. For sure I love living in Japan, but who could imagine dedicating themselves to this country and culture for years out of their lives? I know some Westerners who have lived in Japan for years, and all of them seem really really lonely. Maybe I could be an anthropologist, and then the Japanese would "get" me. They like the idea that they're so unique that other cultures want to study them. They don't mind foreigners that are content remaining outsiders.
What just drives me crazy is that my Japanese teachers make such a big deal about us learning keigo (polite language). If keigo actually came out of my mouth to a Japanese person, they would probably have a heart attack. "White...person.... keigo.... not compute...." *bzzrt*
Well, in other news, I'm working on a paper today, and I'm hoping to finish it in a few hours so I can watch a movie and go to bed early. First I gotta finish this book and compare it with Ruth Benedict's Chrysanthemum and the Sword. Wish me luck! |
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| Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near? |
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| 09:55pm 18/04/2004 |
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mood: sick music: Du Rire Aux Larmes - Sniper (Rap Francais)
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Want to hear a weird story?
Yesterday I was at Meidaimae station, listening to my busted headphones and walking across the platform, when out of the corner of my eye I sense this weird-looking middle-aged guy walking towards me. At first I'm not sure if he's approaching me or not, because he's moving sort of listlessly in my direction, so when I abruptly find him about foot away from my face it's sort of startling. There's something off about his face, not overtly downs-syndrome or anything, but I had the impression he was probably mentally retarded. He's darkly tan and balding, and has a softness about his face that suggests childishness.
He says nothing, but quickly produces a piece of paper and holds it up to me in both hands. It's about two inches by two inches, ripped on all sides into a rough square. At first it appears to be blank, and the man turns it around in his hands a few times, seeming to study it reverentially, seeming to expect me to do the same. Then he finally turns it over, and I can see very faintly some scrawled hiragana characters. Now he seems very anxious that I read it, so I take it and try to puzzle it out, but it's ripped in the middle and very bad handwriting. I can read three of the four characters; I say, "Um... ku- ...bu... e...?"
"Kuchibue!" he says excitedly. "Kuchibue!" He gestures to my mouth. "Kuchibue! Kuchibue?" He seems to be asking me something, and he leans closer to my mouth as if expecting something. I realize the word kuchi means mouth. But I've never heard the word "kuchibue" before. Baffled, I bow to him and put my hand up, and saying "Shitsurei shimasu" I move away. With hardly a reaction, the man turns and walks off in the other direction. Later, I put the word "kuchibue" in my phone, and it takes the kanji for mouth and another kanji I didn't recognize. The fact that it was written in hiragana reinforces the idea that the man was mentally retarded.
Curious, I borrowed my host-family's electronic dictionary tonight and looked up "kuchibue". It means "whistle." |
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| Wooosh - it's Inokashira Koen AND Hakone! |
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| 12:54am 30/03/2004 |
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mood: tired and happy music: Aryeh Frankfurter
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Sunday, March 28, 2004
Let me do a two day journal, since I didn’t write yesterday. First of all, for some reason on Friday night I got absorbed in some time-wasting activities and ended up going to bed around 3:30. Since my parents were scheduled to call on Saturday morning at ten, and they weren’t replying to their emails (because the internet was down, but I didn’t know that) so I didn’t feel that I could reschedule safely, I had to get up at nine. Six hours of sleep and dragging yourself out of bed at nine when you’re used to sleeping in to the spring break normal hour of eleven or so, you know it’s going to be a long day.
Tawny and Melanie and I had planned to meet at Kichijoji at noon, to go over to Inokashira Kouen and look at the cherry blossoms. Cherry blossoms (Sakura) are very important in Japanese culture, and every year when the weather starts to get warm, the blossoms come out for about two weeks, and the whole of Japan just parties. They have a word, hanami, which describes a gathering of people to view the blossoms. It implies sitting outside under the blooming trees and consuming large quantities of alcohol in the middle of the day. In the major centers for cherry trees, there are huge festivals where people can rent blue plastic mats to sit on and buy festival food from the numerous stands that dot the area. Inokashira Kouen is a park at the end of the Inokashira line (which I live on), which is a very famous location for hanami. Inokashira Kouen is sort of infamous – there’s a legend that it was cursed by an angry goddess, so that any couple who went there together would soon part. Of course everyone ignores this legend and Inokashira Kouen is one of the city’s most popular destinations for couples. Another fun fact – sometime in the mid-1990’s, a male body was found dismembered and distributed among the park’s garbage cans, killer never found. Nevertheless, it’s a very pretty and pleasant park, and since that’s very difficult to find in Tokyo it’s one of the most popular destinations for locals, especially when the sakura bloom.
The day was sunny and warm and beautiful, and I made my way over to Kichijouji about half an hour late. I noticed on my way the large proportion of people going towards Kichijouji, which is unusual because most of the time the trains going to Kichijouji are empty, while the trains going the opposite direction, to Shibuya, are packed full. One glance out the window at the blue skies told me why, though, and I wondered if it might be foolish to be trying to go to Inokshira Kouen on the first warm day of sakura season.
I met up with Tawny and Melanie at Starbucks, and we all indulged in a Maccha Cream Frappucino on our way over to the park. The air was cool, but the sun was very warm, putting the temperature in range of perfect. And DEAR LORD, there were so many people. The closer we got to the park, the more stalls selling takoyaki and crepes and yakitori appeared, and the more crowded it became. The park itself was bursting. Every available space was covered with a blue plastic throw, which people were crowded on to, their shoes lined up neatly right off the mat. Some people had little portable grills, and others just had obento. The main paths were crawling with people, lots of obaasan (old women) and young families, groups of friends and couples. The children are all climbing on the fence around the lake that the park surrounds, their watchful mothers standing by. A large group sits in a circle, tossing a ball back and forth in some kind of drinking game. Two old men sit cross-legged alone on a mat, grilling yakitori on portable grills. And everywhere you look, there’s sakura – Inokashira kouen is almost exclusively cherry trees. The lake is lined with them, bending down over water that’s teeming with carp and paddleboats.
The three of us walked around in a daze. This tradition is almost magical. Maybe the Japanese really are a communal society, because when it’s time for a festival, the whole city vibrates with the party atmosphere. We rented a rowboat for an hour and took turns rowing around the lake. Afterwards, we wandered around, plucking up the different festival foods – odango, yakisoba, yakitori, ice cream, and takoyaki. I absolutely love Japanese festival food, it’s so much better than American festival junk food, and much more diverse – what do we have, cotton candy and ice cream and churros? Here they have anything you can grill on some coals. I really wanted some charcoal-blackened corn on the cob, but I was too full from the rest of my food.
Around five, we got a little tired and decided to find something to do for the evening. We settled on all-you-can-drink karaoke. We had never all been karaoke together, so we thought it would be fun. Little did we know. We got to it, drank and sang our hearts out, and it was ridiculous amounts of fun. The singing just didn’t stop. We kept going until around 11:30. That’s right. Five hours of karaoke. We were drunk, and singing, Queen, Garbage, Beatles, Dir en Grey, Alanis Morisette, Eminem. Oh, dear LORD it was expensive. I haven’t that seriously lost control of my purse strings in a LONG time, and it was the alcohol and the situation. You can only do karaoke for five hours in the middle of the day when it’s dirt cheap, or all night when it’s $15 until the first train at six. But it was FUN, it was ridiculous, and I’ll never forget Melanie and Tawny singing Dir En Grey most painful piece of music, “Child Prey” which consists of mostly the harshest roaring of words that I have either heard, and since neither of the girls knew the Japanese lyrics they compensated by ROARING into the microphones. A bunch of Japanese words would appear on the screen, and both of them would ignore them and instead viciously snarl incomprehensible noises into the mike. It was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Tawny yells pretty good, but Melanie’s roaring is TERRIFYING.
So, we all stumbled out around 11:30, having no clue how much we paid or why, but laughing and hugging at random intervals. That’s just how we get. And we seperated and I have no memory of getting on the train, but as I reached my station I began to get a little panicked. After all, Sunday was the day I was slated to go to Hakone with my family, meaning leaving the house at seven in the morning, meaning GETTING UP at five thirty in the morning, which I realized was in roughly five hours. I’ve gotten to know my patterns with alcohol, and with a suddenl feeling of panick I realized that this alcohol was not going to be gone in four hours. This was a drunk that I would usually give three bottles of water and a double dose of advil and a solid ten hours of sleep.
But that certainly wasn’t an option, so I developed a strategy. I would fill my stomach with food and water to soak up the alcohol and make it go through my system as quick as possible, take advil and go to bed as soon as I could – and then just have to get through Sunday pretending I felt fine. So I stopped by the Sunkus convenience store on my way home and bought a pizzaman (like a nikuman with pizza filling, not a Dominoes delivery guy), and a nice sized cup noodle. I ate both in quick succession, the man on the way home and the noodle as soon as I’d changed into my pajamas. My host sister finished her shower as I was eating, and walked into the kitchen. Somehow I was able to hold a superficial conversation with her, about how early tomorrow was going to be and something about Hakone. Then she left me to my noodle. I can remember vividly how delicious it was, as I stuffed it down. Then I refilled my Crystal Geyser PET bottle, and drank the whole thing down.
Now my stomach was full to bursting, so I hurried to attend to my shower and bath. I had to heat up the bath fresh for myself, and when it’s newly heated it’s really really hot. It was so hot I was getting paranoid that, in my drunken state, my body’s temperature regulation wouldn’t do it’s job and I would pass out in the boiling water and the bath would keep heating itself, and I would be boiled to death. I got kind of afraid, and I turned off the water heater so if I DID pass out, the water would slowly turn cold and I’d wake up. I guess I could have just ended my bath EARLY, but that would have been sad – I can’t live without my bath. My body temperature sufficiently increased, I went upstairs to bed, careful to set my alarm BEFORE I lay down – I’ve passed out too many times in the middle of writing emails to trust myself drunk and laying down with my cell phone.
So ends my journal for Saturday, March 27.
The morning came early, of course, and I was much more alert than I expected to be, considering that I was still technically drunk after only four hours of sleep. I felt terrible, but the situation was such that I HAD to power through, otherwise I’d either be late with my host family or offend them or worse, reveal to them what an irresponsible lush I am. It was hard at first – I opened my bottom drawer and stood staring dully at my pants for about ten minutes before I realized I was supposed to be getting dressed. But as I moved around I woke up more, and after I chugged another bottle of water with my vitamins and a bunch of advil, I felt better. About ten ‘til seven, I came downstairs to make a huge cup of coffee, but I was intercepted by my host mom who handed me a plate with a slice of apple pie and a tiny cup half full of brewed coffee. I couldn’t bring myself to complain, so I filled the cup up with milk and sugar and drank it all in one gulp, pretending it was the biggest, strongest French café au lait on the planet. And ate my apple pie. And brushed my teeth and was out the door, into the waiting car, full of my host-dad in the driver's seat, my host-brother Masaaki in the passenger's seat, and my host-sister Saeko in the back.
The drive from Setagaya-ku to Hakone is about an hour and a half. We talked a little and listened to music and I read my book along the way. The highways in Japan are weird, because they all have these big sound barrier walls that curve up and over, so you can’t really stare out the window at the scenery. As we progressed, we could periodically see Mt. Fuji (hereafter referred to as Fuji-san; no, it’s not “Mr. Fuji” – “san” has the double meaning of “Mr.” And “Mt.”). As time passed, it got larger and larger.
We took a road up into the mountains. The view was spectacular of Fuji-san, over a valley with a small town at the mountain’s base, and we stopped at a turn-out to take some pictures. Then continued to a tunnel through the mountains and down the other side, into the valley where Hakone lies. Hakone is a town or an area, I’m not sure which, that is famous for it’s hot springs and scenic views of Fuji-san. There is a town in the valley, but it appears to be mostly a tourist town. We drove up to a tourist spot on the far side of the valley, and walked up a path to a collection of fissures spewing volcanic gases and steam that smelled of sulphur. This place is famous for it’s blackened eggs, Kuro-Tamago – they put eggs in the underground volcanic chambers that are incredibly hot, and hard-boil them. They really didn’t taste any different than normally hard-boiled eggs to me, but hey, I like hard-boiled eggs. I ate two – legend has is, if you eat one egg, it adds seven years to your life, while two eggs adds fourteen years. Go me.
There was snow on the ground, but the air was surprisingly warm and the sun was beating down on our backs. We headed down the mountain, host-dad driving down in the car while the siblings and I rode down in a “gondola” lift, one of those enclosed hanging ski-lift type things that get people up and down mountains. It was fun, and we took a bunch of pictures. Near the bottom, Saeko got a call from dad saying he would try to take our picture from the street, so we should all wave as we went by. That was pretty funny, all of us crammed up in front waving as we sailed over his head. Of course the picture didn’t show anything.
At the bottom of the valley is a large lake, with boats you can rent and stuff. I’ve gotten to see so much nature over this break, and I’m so refreshed! I think I can face three more months of Tokyo urban filth, especially with the addition of a little nice weather. So we left the lake and headed over to the Hakone Jinja (shrine). The host-sibs and I had a discussion about the japanese words “Jinja” and “jinjaa”, the first of which means shrine, the second being the katakana rendering of "ginger". Masaaki commented that they sound similar but they’re a little different, and asked me how we say jinja- in English. My pronunciation of “Ginger” (with that nasty American “ih” and the hard r) made them both laugh, and prompted Masaaki to attempt a “jinjerrr”. So cute. The American accent is so gross.
The shrine was very pretty. After a huge, intensely red Tori gate, there’s a long walkway between tall trees that leads to a tall stair and another Tori, a courtyard and the shrine. We all threw in our money, clapped and bowed, then took pictures. I commented to my host-dad how many trees there were, and how few trees there are in Tokyo. He said yes, because there are lots of people. There are trees, he said, but so spread out if feels like there’s none. There was a large tree at the shrine with a big, burned out hole at it’s base, with a pile of tossed in coins on the ground inside. Saeko explained that women throw money in the tree for help with fertility when they want a baby. I decided to keep my money. Masaaki took a picture of us in front of the tree… maybe it’s a famous tree or something, I don’t know.
So we got back in the car and went off to find some food. Saeko and I both fell asleep in the back of the car, and woke up an hour later in another town altogether. It was a smallish city called Odawara, with low, old buildings and wide streets. We walked around until we found a soba restaurant, and I had a plate of zaru-soba, one of my favorites. I love zaru-soba so much! (I’ve realized this last week that, really, for all my complaining about missing American food, Japanese food is my favorite kind of food. Well, ok, Italian food is my favorite kind, and Indian, and Mexican, and Chinese, I LOVE it all - but what I mean is, I could be happy eating Japanese food for every meal for the rest of my life. It always sounds good to me, and it always tastes good to me, and I never get tired of it. So my new strategy for conquering homesickness is to try and concentrate on Japanese food as much as I can while I’m here, because as long as I’m thinking about Japanese food, I'm not craving food from back home.) It was about one as we left the restaurant, and I remarked on how surprised I was that it was still so early, and Masaaki was like “Yeah, I wouldn’t even be up yet.” So true. Me too. But it already felt like we had done so much.
After lunch, we headed over to the local Odawara Castle, where we thought we might find some sakura. Turns out that it was a little early for sakura, so they were a bit sukunai (the opposite of ippai, which is "a lot" - I guess, not a lot), but there was a hanami festival going on anyways. My host-dad bought us soft cream (soft serve) and I got sakura flavor. This festival was huge, and the vendors and used clothing and cheap trinkets stretched on and on. After a while, we crossed the moat and went up to the castle and found a sign advertising “Free Photo with Samurai!”, and sure enough, a group of older men dressed as samurai were posing with Japanese tourists against the backdrop of the castle gate. So cute, one samurai had forgotten to remove his glasses. So we got in line and had our pictures taken with the samurai. It was silly.
Within the castle walls, the festival continued. The castle grounds were huge, so we kept climbing up to the main castle area, where I was surprised to discover… a zoo. With an elephant and some monkeys and a couple birds. It was kind of a sad zoo, the kind of zoo where you suspect that the animals aren’t really fed properly. Anyway, my host-dad suggested I go into the castle with Saeko, because you could go up on the high fourth floor roof and, since the castle was high on a hill, there would probably be a view. So we went in – of course we had to buy a ticket, and there was a museum to go through, but after two floors of artifacts from Japan’s history we both got bored and just went straight to the top. The view is really beautiful. The town is mostly made of one- or two-story buildings, and to the west lie the beautiful Hakone mountains, and to the east lies the sea stretching to the horizon. Odawara has that Japanese charm of the smaller, older town that Tokyo just lacks altogether. I said to my sister, “Odawara is really a beautiful town, huh.” (Odawara wa totemo kireina machi desu ne.) “Because it has mountains.” (Yama ga aru shi.) She agreed, “And because it has the ocean.” (Umi mo aru shi.) Just want to record that exchange because it went like a Japanese textbook exercise. Woohoo! I’m speakin’ Japanese now!
From the roof something else caught my eye – a Taiyaki stand in the festival below. Don’t be confused with Takoyaki – Saeko was confused at first when I told her my destination, until I explained “in the shape of a fish” (sakana no katachi no). Taiyaki is a sweet that's always in the shape of a fish, with “an” (red bean paste) or some other filling inside. It’s made by pouring batter into a fish-shaped mold, squirting an on top of the batter, then pouring more batter over it and closing up the mold and sticking it on some coals. Within minutes, you have a crisp, fish-shaped thing that smells heavenly when fresh.
It was about four o’clock now, very warm, and we decided to head home. I was exhausted. We picked up omiyage (souvenir) for host-mom - some okashi - and went back to the car. I slept most of the trip home. Now writing all this down, it doesn’t seem like we did much, but it was a really long day for us all, and we were all exhausted by the time we got home. It was about five before we got back to the house, and I got busy uploading my pictures and everything – not before thanking my host-dad for taking me out, and telling him I had a great time. And I really did, you know – I really, really like my host family. And then we had cheese fondue for dinner! It was my hajimete (first time) – which is ironic, I had fondue for the first time in Japan.
Anyway, I decided to try out the web-page authoring function on my .mac account, and the results are here: http://homepage.mac.com/tomokopuff/PhotoAlbum3.html Yeah, it’s not a masterpiece of web design, but that’s not really the point is it? At least the photos have some description. Lemme know if there's any problems with the pictors. This was a really long post, so I'll probably take a break from writing for a few days. |
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| Just plain ol' Today's Journal - I make Japan FUN! |
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| 05:11pm 17/03/2004 |
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mood: relaxed music: J.S. Bach - Ouverture (Suite) Nr.3 D-dur - iTunes Radio
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Yesterday I went over to Tower Records in Shibuya and bought The Da Vinci Codes. I met up with Chris and Yuna unplanned, because they were in Shibuya and I happened to mail Chris to ask what he was up to, so we got together. I went with them over to a station near their neighbourhood and they played takkyuu (ping-pong), and I tried it out for a game but mostly watched them play. And we had some dinner and hung out a bit. And Chris and I planned to hang out today.
So I got up around 11 to get ready to leave the house at a decent hour, but then he mailed me to say he wasn’t feeling like going out today, so I was a little disappointed. Not really a whole lot; although it was warm today, it was really windy and not terribly inviting outside, and besides I had my book to read. I emailed with Mel a bit later on, and we decided to brave the elements and hang out in the afternoon, so we met up at Yoyogi Station around 3:30 and went to go look for Yoyogi Park. It was warm enough for me to wear my red Abercrombie shirt and my demin jacket - wahoo! We walked all around the Meiji Jingu part of the park, but we never made it to Yoyogi Park. I guess it’s actually closer to get to Yoyogi Park from Harajuku Station than from Yoyogi. But the park around the Meiji Jingu is beautiful, all tall trees and gravel roads, so I actually felt quite satisfied with just walking around there. Yoyogi Park will be there another day.
We talked about missing home. It feels good to talk about missing home with people. Everyone I know seems to be getting homesick right about now. That’s reassuring.
When I emailed my host-mom to tell her I was walking around the park and I was going to eat out, she sent me this message: “Konna ni kaze ga tsuyoi no ni kouen ni iru no?! Tobasarenai youni kiotsukete ne.” (You’re at the park in this violent wind? Be careful not to fly away, ok?) How freaking cute is my host mom?
Then we went down Takeshita-Dori and found a not too smoky café, and I had a caramel chai and she had a blood orange juice and it was very pleasant. That’s the first desserty drink I’ve ordered in quite some time, so I don’t feel too bad about it. It felt really good to have a chance to sit and chat with Mel for a good chunk of time. With all the recent travelling on both our part, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a good talk. I got to hear about her guy stuff and she got to hear mine, and we got to laugh a lot - about her crush’s girlfriend being an idiot, and me being a bitch, and gossiping about people. And we talked about plans for the future and school and home – lots of topics covered, so it was satisfying. We’re hanging out again tomorrow, though – I hope we have more stuff to talk about. I can't stand an entire day of rehashing Lord of the Rings, our default conversation when things get quiet.
Then we went back to her place and cooked up some gyoza and rice, in addition to which I had a little cup soup called “Curry Pan” (Japanese use the latin "pan" for bread) which was basically curry soup with chunks of bread. Then Mel, who had made some meat pies earlier in the day, put a tray in the oven the contents of which she wouldn’t reveal. The room filled with a wonderful smell, and she took the tray out and served up our dessert, made from the leftovers of the pie dough. Basically, you roll the dough flat, spread it with butter and brown sugar, and then you roll it up until it’s in the shape of a burrito. Cook it until the outside is crisp, but the inside is still raw dough, and you have one hell of a dessert. You could also spread chocolate, honey, maple syrup, or whatever. I love Québécois food. I’ve got a lot of new food to try cooking when I get back to the US.
A satisfying day overall. |
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| fugu fugu fugu! |
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| 09:12pm 13/03/2004 |
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mood: full music: Opera - to soothe my angry tummy
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Saturday, March 13, 2004
During the day, I didn't do much. I got up late and lazed around. Spent a long time getting ready. Played with the wonder of the natural world right in my own room – wireless internet.
At five, we all gathered downstairs to go out to dinner. I had only eaten a half a leftover meatball from the night before around 1, in addition to a cup of coffee, so I was quite hungry. We were going to meet up with one of my host-dad’s co-workers and his family at a fugu (blowfish) restaurant. It was a pretty upscale place, as most fugu places are. There was a long line waiting outside the door, but we walked right through and went up to the third floor to meet the family. They were a nice family – the dad kept busting out with adorable English phrases. There were two daughters, Kiyoko (the older, drop-dead gorgeous recently graduated from college), and Keiko (younger, lots of jewelry). Masaaki and I sat at the kids table, and the older folks ate at the table next to us.
The first course was a plate of fugu sashimi. It came with a cup of onions mixed with the fugu skin. Fugu sashimi is sliced so thinly that you can see the pattern in the porcelain underneath. Fugu is a very colorless fish. It’s not as buttery as tuna – as far as sashimi goes, it’s fairly rubbery, which is probably why they cut it so thin. And the taste is fairly delicate. It’s actually quite good sashimi. And the skin is rubbery but it’s cool. I really really like sashimi – it’s kind of weird to be an American and just really like the flavor of raw fish.
Then they came out with o-sake for all the grown-ups. But this is fugu hire-zake - the grilled fins of the fugu in the sake. I kind of wanted to try - but then again, the idea of fish-flavored nihon-shu is not really all that appealing. But host-dad seemed to enjoy it, along with his beer, and by halfway through the meal he was a bit red. Japanese men are so cute when they're drunk.
In the center of the table, there was a nabe (a word to refer to anything that's used as a pot or grill). This one was interesting, though, because it was simply a wooden basket on top of a heater, lined with an oversized piece of paper. It was some kind of special paper, I guess, because they brought out pitchers of hot water and poured it right on the paper and it started bubbling like a pot. That was interesting. So I knew that, whatever the main course was, it would be boil-it-yourself nabe.
Then the food comes out. There’s all the normal fare – kinoko (tiny mushrooms), regular mushrooms, those dark green leafy things that look like parsley, chunks of cabbage, onion, tofu. On top of it all lays the fugu. It is… VERY FRESHLY KILLED fugu. It was in fact one of the most disturbing things I have ever seen. Chunks of meat, which aren’t entirely dead. Upon closer inspection, I realize that all the muscles in the fugu chunks are twitching violently. The whole plate of fish parts, all cut up neatly and piled on top of the cabbage, is writhing wildly in post-death spasms before rigor mortis.
Ok. This is surely the American in me talking, but – cuts of meat are supposed to be INANIMATE. Like a chair. Or a television set. That means they are NOT SUPPOSED TO MOVE AUTONOMOUSLY.
Of course, all the Japanese people laughed at the look of sheer revulsion on my face. Most of them were pleasantly surprised that the food was moving of it's own accord. Fugu is very expensive and is quite a delicacy, so for them I think it was a special thing to have the food so… fresh.
Anyway, as the cuts of fugu flesh continued to wriggle on the platter, Masaaki began putting the food into the nabe. Of course, I ate the fugu. I understand that just because we never see animal flesh behaving in this manner in the states, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen. I wouldn’t eat it raw like that, but cooked it’s all the same, and it’s hypocritical to not eat something just because I’ve actually SEEN it in the throes of death. I found it not extraordinary, but fairly tasty fish. But then I don’t really know jack about fish.
Well, we ate and ate and ate – there was SO MUCH. The tofu was excellent. When I get back to the states, I’m going to make tofu a staple of my diet – it’s expensive but GOD it’s good. And the kinoko and the onions and cabbage, all excellent. After about an hour, we had eaten most of the nabe, and we were STUFFED.
But did it end there? Of course not. They brought out a decadent plate of o-sushi to each table. We each got a two types of maguro (tuna), an ebi (shrimp), kani (crab), ikura maki (salmon egg roll), some kind of kai (shellfish), and another fish that they couldn’t identify to me. Whatever, I don’t know much about fish anyway. Well, I could eat good maguro and ikura maki until I die though. On top of that, we each got a salt-water eel (The sister eel to unagi, I forget it’s name. Unagi is a freshwater eel – I asked where unagi comes from, and it precipitated an argument over whether it comes from “kawa” or “ike” – the river or the lake. Unagi is much better, in my opinon.) I can do without ebi and kani, as I’m not really a fan of shellfish of any sort, and when they’re raw they’re just too sweet. The ikura was really the best thing – I ended up eating Masaaki’s as well as mine, since he doesn’t like it. It was buttery and salty, but not too salty, incredibly rich and sweet. The other awesome thing about the sushi was that the wasabi was very mild – I usually have to scrape the wasabi off, but I could actually eat this easily.
After the sushi, the server came out with a bowl of rice and filled our nabes up. Then a few scrambled eggs and onions, and little nori to sprinkle on top, and we had another course! Oh, we were so full. I was so full I was considering bulimia as a viable option for survival. But I ate a couple bowls of rice/egg/nori. Then dessert came. Coffee jelly. Haha, the first time I wrote “jelly” I typed “jerry” because the Japanese people pronounce it “zeri”. I like coffee jelly (we don’t have it in the states – it’s basically jello flavored like black coffee. It’s quite bitter, you need something sweet like ice cream with it. Also, it’s loaded with caffeine.) But this coffee jelly was served with, of all things, anko – red bean. And I love anko, but anko with coffee? It was pretty good, but it was weird.
Finally the assault on my stomach was over! As we filed out, we passed a glass panel through which we could see the kitchen. A chef was cutting up some bits of fugu. Suddenly, he grabs a net, dips it into the fugu tank, and lifts a squirming, glistening fugu out onto his cutting board. If you’ve ever seen a fugu, you can maybe imagine – they don’t look like other fish. Their bodies are long and rounded, not flat or slender at all. They have wide round mouths that always seem to be smiling, with little white tongues. Big silly eyes slope down to the fat lips. It doesn’t have scales (the Bible warned against eating fish without scales, like the Red Sea version of pufferfish). Its kind of a slimy fish, and as the chef holds it down on the cutting board, it seems to bulge and bloat. Then up comes the meat cleaver and sharply hacks a slit into the fugu’s head, not terribly deep. The fish seizures violently, and the chef takes a long dowel-like instrument and stabs it into the fugu’s brain, then quickly stabs it lengthways down it’s spinal cord. Then again with the meat cleaver and off comes the face below the eyes. Now the fish is just an opened hull, silly eyes staring above a bleeding lack of face, with a piece of meat sticking out of the gaping hole and thrashing about madly. Maybe that’s the tongue. I don’t know. The chef then proceeds to slit the skin of the fish on all sides, exposing the flesh underneath. It was at this point that we all agreed that it was better we saw this AFTER eating rather than before, and we hurried downstairs. It was such a violent display – I’d estimate it took under 30 seconds for that chef to reduce a living, swimming fish to a pile of twitching meat. All that AND removing the poison so his customers don’t die. The fugu’s poison, contained in its organs, is 500 times more powerful than cyanide, about a hundred times more powerful than arsenic. So you know right away if you're ok or not - you die instantly if you're poisoned.
Well, I was a little traumatized. But it was ok, because we all got to chat some on the way home and I feel like it was a good experience to have. You know what? It gave that feeling I had when I first got to Japan – like, wow! I’ve never done anything like that before! It’s all new and astonishing. It also reminds me of how incredibly foreign I am. I regret that I didn’t bring my camera, so I could get a picture of the people, the restaurant, and the writhing meat. Anyway, right now I’m so full I almost just want to go to bed and sleep it off, but if I do all the calories will turn straight into fat. Maybe I should go out for a walk or something. |
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| Okinawa Trip - DAY 5: Friday, March 5, 2004 |
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| 12:57pm 13/03/2004 |
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Friday, March 5, 2004
The great thing about going to bed at 5:00 AM completely drunk, when you have to check out of the hotel at 10 AM, is that you wake up – STILL completely drunk. And when I say “the great thing,” I’m implying “the thing that makes me want to slit my wrists it sucks so much.” I was stumbling around just as if I had just finished a fifth of vodka, only I was supposed to be getting ready and not forgetting anything. Jesus. It was terrible. There was no shower for me on that morning. No face washing – I barely managed to brush my teeth.
I stumbled down the street hating everything in sight. Finally, Tawny and Joe decided to go into Seattle’s Best Coffee (that’s right – there’s a Seattle’s Best in Okinawa), and I decided to go in to Seattle’s Best Coffee’s bathroom and purge my stomach. After ten minutes in there – let me remind you, this is at eleven oclock in the morning – I stumbled out, saw the potential social interaction in Tawny and Joe sitting there with coffee, and was just like, “Hey. I’m going – somewhere else.” And I wandered back to the hotel.
I got a lot better by the time we got to the airport. Of course, by this point I had no money, so I had to borrow $10 from Sean to buy a last souvenir and a lunch for the plane. I slept for most of the plane ride. When I got to shibuya station, I realized I had just enough to get home, but not enough to go back out. And I thought – hm… that’s a nice thought. Just hide in my bed for a week. So I arrived home penniless.
What did we learn from this trip? Just because you’re on vacation, or in a certain place that you won’t have a chance to visit again, doesn’t mean you should throw away all your good habits. I shouldn’t have eaten so much, drunk so much, stayed up so much, or been around people so much. Even when you’re on vacation or in similar situations, you have to know you limits. I ate so much ice cream and soft cream on this trip, because they had all these flavors you can’t find anywhere else, like sugar cane, sweet potato – even goya (which I did NOT try.) And there was all this food that it’s hard to find, or that is an Okinawan specialty. And here we were, all in a hotel together – when would we have another chance to party like that? It’s a curse of youth, I think, to feel like if something’s there for the taking, you have to grab it. My liver’s still cursing my name for all the poison it had to deal with.
So, to end, it feels really good to get back on track with my diet and budget and everything this week. And I don’t think I’ll be doing anymore travelling in the near future. |
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