Monday, September 28, 2009
Sekine-sensei
Ah, I never mentioned Sekine-sensei! I met him at the climbing gym in Edogawabashi. He's in his early or mid-fifties, slight but muscular of build (like all the best climbers!), and fond of purple shirts. His hair is short, and he has a trim, greying beard. He has spectacular laugh-lines at the corners of his eyes. He carries around a laser pointer at all times so that he can can point to holds when he's helping people figure climbs out, which is frequently. He's a master of footwork, and the efficiency and agility of his technique is actually inspiring. He has made bouldering problems which are logged and diagrammed in the folders at both the Edogawabashi and Nishi-Kokubunji gyms (bouldering problems generally consist of a series of specific holds which must be reached in sequence. No other holds can be used, and usually there's some elegant trick to completing good problems). His "pen name" so to speak, when he signs a bouldering problem, is "Wilee," after Wile-E Coyote :) He seemed to be friends with everyone at both gyms, between which it seems he divides practically all of his time.
classes, explosive drunkenness!
Alas, classes have begun, and the good times are overrrrrrrrrrrr : (
Just kidding. In the program that I'm in, we primarily have two types of classes (I'm simplifying): focus classes and level-designated core language classes. Core classes have begun in earnest, and I am procrastinating on the homework even as I type.
Students in the language program are also required to take and pass at least one focus language class, whatever that might be. This week at school is a "trial week," where we can attend as many core classes as we like just to get a feel for them, before any actual work begins (next week). The orientation classes are also shortened to one-third their usual length so that if a student is interested in two coincident classes, he can attend any of the three or so orientations.
I've met only one of my three core class teachers, who happens to be the program coordinator for level 10 and a descendant of pirates, Misaki-sensei. How did the conversation turn to pirates, you ask? Well, I'm learning that it's sort of a custom in Japan for the more amiable teachers to explain the meaning of their names, and two of the three teachers I've met have gone so far as to draw illustrations on the blackboard. Misaki literally means "cape" in Japanese, so Misaki-sensei drew a picture of a cliff with a lighthouse on it, and talked for a while about how her ancestors were, according to family legend, pirates on Japan's inland sea (hence the coastal name).
Misaki-sensei strikes me as a very strong woman with a straightforward personality. I was taken aback at first by the bluntness of her criticism on the tattered state of my program guidebook, but after all I suppose it's a quality I look for in teachers. The best teachers, I think, shame their students just enough to get them to learn from their mistakes.
I also attended trial classes for grammar and conversation focus classes. I found the content of the conversation classes to be too simple, so I'm looking into more difficult classes that I'll have a chance to check out on Thursday. I participated in both difficulty levels of "advanced grammar," and I'm leaning towards taking the more challenging of the two.
Anyway, that's about it for academics. It'll probably end up that I only have one class on Mondays! Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays are free so far as I've planned my classes out : )
Went out climbing and drinking with Maya and my friend Daniel Kaluza (from Poland) and his new girlfriend Chihiro. We really went all out, and towards the end of our stay, Sekine-sensei randomly showed up! The gym we were at is plenty far (about an hour by train) from the gym where I first met him, so it was quite a coincidence. But then again, it seems like Sekine-sensei does nothing but climb anyway- to his credit :)
I really feel like I made some friends in the gym that day. The gym is in West Kokubunji, which is west of central Tokyo. It's build out of a three-story house, so it feels sort of hand-made and homey. I embarrassed myself slightly because by the time Sekine-sensei showed up I had already exhausted myself, but ah well.
Afterwards, we had dinner at a Korean restaurant, checked out some of the hopelessly expensive bars, and ended up buying an abundant supply of ice, liquor, cola, and fruit juice at a convenience store (effectively slashing our liquor expenditure by 70%), and drinking in an empty lot up a hill from a shrine. Time was of the essence, since we had about thirty minutes to make the last train home, so we drank massively and quickly ("bottoms up!" was shouted on at least three occasions).
Our minds thick and dizzy with British gin and vodka, we made our correct trains through a collective effort. Maya split off for an express line to her station, while Daniel and Chihiro and I took the Central Line, hoping to transfer at Shinjuku. On the train ride, this one lady started berating us for reasons I didn't well understand, with the woman getting in my face and telling me, in slurred Japanese, "aren't you ashamed, as an American?? Huh?? Isn't it a downright SHAME?" I think I replied very slowly with something like "No, not really. Why should I be?" But received no reasonable response at all.
Let me back up slightly- they were obviously very, very inebriated, likely moreso than we were. The reason the lady was berating me was in part because we were sitting in the Priority Seats, which are to be turned over to the elderly or otherwise infirm, if requested. Neither of the two were "elderly," though she was with an older gentleman.
Let alone that there were open seats all over the damned car, including one priority seat right across from us, where the older gentleman could have sat. Also, let's ignore that there were equally young, fit people sitting in all the rest of the priority seats. I think they just focused on us in their drunken stupor. It didn't help that Chihiro was practically passed out between us and Daniel has such a limited command of Japanese (he's only studied for two months).
So, there we were, with that bitch getting in my face because she's a racist malcontent, and Daniel and that older guy having their own, simpler battle of "slurred, nearly incoherent Japanese" vs. "Hey, don't touch me, fuck you" in Polish-accented English. Whew.
Eventually the lady decided I was no fun, and started trying to hit Daniel. At that point, we reached Chihiro's transfer station, and she and Dan got off, pursued by this horrible Japanese couple.
A few moments of peace passed before a couple of the young guys on the other side of the car called me over to ask me what had happened. Apparently they saw and heard everything, and judged the angry couple to be in the wrong (ah, vindication :). When they asked me where I was living and I told them Shin-Kawasaki, they observed, correctly, that I wouldn't make it in time for my transfer at Shinagawa. Immediately it was decided that I could bum out at Yuta's house. What can I say? I'm having a great time.
I followed Yuta through his transfer at Takadanobaba (silliest name ever) to a smaller line, where we were caught up in a friendly, alcohol-fueled conversation between a young business man and a Brazilian immigrant to Japan. Eventually, we arrived at a small station in a small town, and walked to his apartment. He's in the middle of moving out, so almost all of the furniture was gone.
In fact, just about the only things there were a refrigerator, a couch, a vacuum cleaner, and an assortment of paintings he had done (he's a semi-professional artist, apparently). After drinking copious amounts of water, I collapsed on the uncarpeted floor and proceeded to meditate slowly and loosely on the unpleasant experience with the drunk couple on the train. Yuta, drunkenly but determinedly, made some progress in cleaning the apartment in preparation for completing his move.
Eventually he placed a folded towel under my head, collapsed on the couch, and after some brief conversation about art and Japanese drug culture (I don't want to know what my Japanese must have been like in the state I was in : / ), the lights went out.
After I got home the next afternoon, I slept for a further fourteen hours.
Anyway, that's all for now! I suppose I can no longer avoid my homework...
Just kidding. In the program that I'm in, we primarily have two types of classes (I'm simplifying): focus classes and level-designated core language classes. Core classes have begun in earnest, and I am procrastinating on the homework even as I type.
Students in the language program are also required to take and pass at least one focus language class, whatever that might be. This week at school is a "trial week," where we can attend as many core classes as we like just to get a feel for them, before any actual work begins (next week). The orientation classes are also shortened to one-third their usual length so that if a student is interested in two coincident classes, he can attend any of the three or so orientations.
I've met only one of my three core class teachers, who happens to be the program coordinator for level 10 and a descendant of pirates, Misaki-sensei. How did the conversation turn to pirates, you ask? Well, I'm learning that it's sort of a custom in Japan for the more amiable teachers to explain the meaning of their names, and two of the three teachers I've met have gone so far as to draw illustrations on the blackboard. Misaki literally means "cape" in Japanese, so Misaki-sensei drew a picture of a cliff with a lighthouse on it, and talked for a while about how her ancestors were, according to family legend, pirates on Japan's inland sea (hence the coastal name).
Misaki-sensei strikes me as a very strong woman with a straightforward personality. I was taken aback at first by the bluntness of her criticism on the tattered state of my program guidebook, but after all I suppose it's a quality I look for in teachers. The best teachers, I think, shame their students just enough to get them to learn from their mistakes.
I also attended trial classes for grammar and conversation focus classes. I found the content of the conversation classes to be too simple, so I'm looking into more difficult classes that I'll have a chance to check out on Thursday. I participated in both difficulty levels of "advanced grammar," and I'm leaning towards taking the more challenging of the two.
Anyway, that's about it for academics. It'll probably end up that I only have one class on Mondays! Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays are free so far as I've planned my classes out : )
Went out climbing and drinking with Maya and my friend Daniel Kaluza (from Poland) and his new girlfriend Chihiro. We really went all out, and towards the end of our stay, Sekine-sensei randomly showed up! The gym we were at is plenty far (about an hour by train) from the gym where I first met him, so it was quite a coincidence. But then again, it seems like Sekine-sensei does nothing but climb anyway- to his credit :)
I really feel like I made some friends in the gym that day. The gym is in West Kokubunji, which is west of central Tokyo. It's build out of a three-story house, so it feels sort of hand-made and homey. I embarrassed myself slightly because by the time Sekine-sensei showed up I had already exhausted myself, but ah well.
Afterwards, we had dinner at a Korean restaurant, checked out some of the hopelessly expensive bars, and ended up buying an abundant supply of ice, liquor, cola, and fruit juice at a convenience store (effectively slashing our liquor expenditure by 70%), and drinking in an empty lot up a hill from a shrine. Time was of the essence, since we had about thirty minutes to make the last train home, so we drank massively and quickly ("bottoms up!" was shouted on at least three occasions).
Our minds thick and dizzy with British gin and vodka, we made our correct trains through a collective effort. Maya split off for an express line to her station, while Daniel and Chihiro and I took the Central Line, hoping to transfer at Shinjuku. On the train ride, this one lady started berating us for reasons I didn't well understand, with the woman getting in my face and telling me, in slurred Japanese, "aren't you ashamed, as an American?? Huh?? Isn't it a downright SHAME?" I think I replied very slowly with something like "No, not really. Why should I be?" But received no reasonable response at all.
Let me back up slightly- they were obviously very, very inebriated, likely moreso than we were. The reason the lady was berating me was in part because we were sitting in the Priority Seats, which are to be turned over to the elderly or otherwise infirm, if requested. Neither of the two were "elderly," though she was with an older gentleman.
Let alone that there were open seats all over the damned car, including one priority seat right across from us, where the older gentleman could have sat. Also, let's ignore that there were equally young, fit people sitting in all the rest of the priority seats. I think they just focused on us in their drunken stupor. It didn't help that Chihiro was practically passed out between us and Daniel has such a limited command of Japanese (he's only studied for two months).
So, there we were, with that bitch getting in my face because she's a racist malcontent, and Daniel and that older guy having their own, simpler battle of "slurred, nearly incoherent Japanese" vs. "Hey, don't touch me, fuck you" in Polish-accented English. Whew.
Eventually the lady decided I was no fun, and started trying to hit Daniel. At that point, we reached Chihiro's transfer station, and she and Dan got off, pursued by this horrible Japanese couple.
A few moments of peace passed before a couple of the young guys on the other side of the car called me over to ask me what had happened. Apparently they saw and heard everything, and judged the angry couple to be in the wrong (ah, vindication :). When they asked me where I was living and I told them Shin-Kawasaki, they observed, correctly, that I wouldn't make it in time for my transfer at Shinagawa. Immediately it was decided that I could bum out at Yuta's house. What can I say? I'm having a great time.
I followed Yuta through his transfer at Takadanobaba (silliest name ever) to a smaller line, where we were caught up in a friendly, alcohol-fueled conversation between a young business man and a Brazilian immigrant to Japan. Eventually, we arrived at a small station in a small town, and walked to his apartment. He's in the middle of moving out, so almost all of the furniture was gone.
In fact, just about the only things there were a refrigerator, a couch, a vacuum cleaner, and an assortment of paintings he had done (he's a semi-professional artist, apparently). After drinking copious amounts of water, I collapsed on the uncarpeted floor and proceeded to meditate slowly and loosely on the unpleasant experience with the drunk couple on the train. Yuta, drunkenly but determinedly, made some progress in cleaning the apartment in preparation for completing his move.
Eventually he placed a folded towel under my head, collapsed on the couch, and after some brief conversation about art and Japanese drug culture (I don't want to know what my Japanese must have been like in the state I was in : / ), the lights went out.
After I got home the next afternoon, I slept for a further fourteen hours.
Anyway, that's all for now! I suppose I can no longer avoid my homework...
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
F**king Freezer
So, the freezer in my room is so built up with ice that it doesn't freeze things efficiently anymore. I took a fork to the buildup, but now all I've got is ice-powder melting on my kitchen floor, painfully cold fingers, and a bent fork. The ice that's actually built up around the heat exchanger is rock-hard, so the plan is to cut the power to the damned thing and mop up afterwards. I hate to let my foodstuffs and beverages warm up on the floor, but that is a sacrifice for the greater good.
I'll place a pot of very hot water directly onto the cooling rack to expedite the process.
I'll place a pot of very hot water directly onto the cooling rack to expedite the process.
I love you, Mrs. Moorman
Lady with her small dogs and carpeted dog-palanquin in Ginza.
Man with several impossibly huge bags of aluminum cans roped to his bicycle, in Kawasaki.
Nifty Japanese cargo truck- the whole side opens up to facilitate loading and unloading.
Steven Seagal, apparently in a Japanese zombie movie called "Zangeki." The text reads "Steven Seagal" "This old man... cuts down zombies."
The Keirou no Hi parade in Shibuya, with the float (of a crouching samurai), dancers, and one of the world's busiest Starbucks in the background.
Another shot, showing the taiko.
I liked this guys clothes. This is in Shinjuku.So, I got to embarrass my high school Japanese teacher on Japanese national television. Maybe. Let me back up a second. So I took the Tokyo metro out to Ginza earlier today to meet with the television crew from TV Tokyo for the interview. I talked to some of the other foreigners while we were waiting to be interviewed- apparently, they had been nabbed by scouts for the program all across the Tokyo Metropolitan Area. One girl had been accosted twice for the same program by a scout in Harajuku and then again Akihabara.
The interview itself was actually really fun- the interviewer was immediately engaging and humorous, and really helped us be at ease and speak confidently. I say us, because Maya and I were interviewed as a couple. Anyway, no surprises- he asked me about things that had surprised me about Japan (thankfully steering clear of the topic of "failure" that was listed as a potential question), and I told him honestly about the time I was surprised by the singing Kawasaki garbage trucks. He asked me if I could sing the tune, and I unhesitatingly refused (with a smile).
He talked with Maya for almost too long about her racial heritage (seemingly unable to get around how Japanese she looks), and then the conversation somehow turned to Mrs. Moorman, dear Moorman-sensei. He asked what we learned in the class, and I told him- basic everyday Japanese. "Do you remember anything in particular you learned to say in the class?"
Oh no. I thought for a while, and then something unfortunate came to mind: "Do you like it big?" (This is from a panel that Moorman-sensei drew with the dialogue: Person A: "It's so big!" Person B: "Do you like it big?" )
Again unfortunately, the interviewer immediately understood the humor of this and, laughing, asked "This is a woman teacher, right?" and I said "Yes. That's also just the kind of person she is." So. I love you Moorman-sensei! Hopefully no-one you know will see the program, or they'll edit that out.
Anyway, that's all I really wanted to write about. I had a seven hour adventure last night that took me from a failed withdrawal at Citibank (in the gleaming, multi-monolithic financial district of Tokyo), walking penniless and aimless for seven hours in the Japanese dark, from the manicured grounds of the Imperial Palace to the Diet Building, then into the heart of Ginza, all the while on and off the phone with Citibank, mum, private bankers, and the mysterious masterminds in New York, trying to get my card working so I could at least withdraw enough cash to get dinner (I had about 30 yen in my pocket; about 34 cents).
About half an hour before the trains stopped running, I was at last able to make the withdrawal (the specific problem was stupid and avoidable, but I won't go into detail). I made the last train home to Shin-Kawasaki and showered on the way to bed.
Something of noteworthy cuteness that I spied while I was walking: at a major construction site near the Palace (the site was unfortunately walled, so I couldn't get close enough to take a good cell-phone picture), there was a full-size hydraulic shovel with the words "I Must Work Hard" written in English in big black decals up its arm. And hard it worked, well into the night.
I didn't mention something- yesterday was a national holiday- "Keirou no Hi;" "Day of Respect for the Aged," and two days ago in Shibuya (the day of Wandering After Kebab) there was a huge parade/ festival replete with gigantic Japanese drums, fifes, dancing, and a float. I took some photos with my phone, but I had no idea the quality would be so low! I changed the settings on the phone so that pictures I take now will have over ten times the quality.
I've spread the photos about the blog in no particular order. I just realized that I forgot an adapter I need to use in order to offload photos from my camera-camera, so wait on those! ^ ^
Cheers!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
stuff has happened!
Shot of public fountain.
Police box at Imperial Palace. Note the white police bicycle and the bamboo broom.
Nijuu Bridge at the Imperial Palace.
Maya being cute.
Walkway through the park near the palace.
Ridin' in style.
Ridin' in style at the Police Museum in Ginza. They have little uniforms in stock so parents can dress their kids up as cops.
Close up of the cutest little officer on the planet. Later, he booked me for possession.
Guy with all of his belongings on a bicycle, taking a break to play with his dogs.
Another shot, revealing his too-small women's top, and his short, tight pants.So, apparently I'm going to be on Japanese television.
I was waiting for Maya in front of Akihabara station when I was accosted by someone from a program on TV Tokyo. He was looking for foreigners who could speak even a little Japanese, for an interview on their cultural experience in Japan. We went over a form that comprised a list of questions he was going to ask me, such as "What is your favorite Japanese word?" "What has shocked you most about Japan?" and "What is your favorite Japanese food?"
Pretty much the only question I found easy to answer was the last one: unagi-don.
Anyhow, all I did was fill out the form. I'm going to be interviewed on camera whenever I show up tomorrow, although the interview is going to be conducted entirely in Japanese. Even though it's just for fun and the program is airing at six in the morning, I find myself apprehensive about making a fool of myself on national television. There are probably going to be as many people interviewed as he was able to capture during the day, and the interviews will probably be edited together into a tiny window in the typical chaotic Japanese entertainment TV fashion, so I don't think I have to worry about ruining my (nonexistent) reputation.
Shinjuku is a city of cats. At least it is so to me.
First, they have a cat cafe there, where patrons pay hard-earned yen (about $17 each, I think) to be admitted to two cat-filled rooms for an hour.
I found the situation, once I was inside, to be remarkably funny. The interior is fitted with an assortment of cat climbing towers and the walls are lined with wide shelves, each within jumping distance of the next, and many of them adorned with reposing cats. There were around three dozen cats in all, each individually described and named on identification picture sheets. There were low leather chairs and tables with menus, and while you waited for your coffee and snack you could pluck a cat teaser from a series of wall-mounted brackets and try in vain to get the attention of a passing cat.
That's another thing that I found funny about the situation- the cats are actually very unpleasant; aloof and effete. Each one came with a card from a breeder, they are pampered all day, and they would sooner shrink away from your hand than look at you. It's understandable, since they're constantly getting harassed by grabby cat-loving couples all day, but the impression that the cats were standoffish elitists wasn't exactly alleviated by the pretentious classical music that was playing the whole time. At any rate, they were cute and it was a novel experience.
Shinjuku Central Park is home to a roving collection of reasonably well-fed cats. Actually, all of the cats in Shinjuku, even the ones in the entertainment district, are pretty well cared for. From time to time you notice a plate of scraps or even proper cat food laid out on the sidewalk near the door of a restaurant, and a wary cat standing nearby. The cats in the park are fed each morning by an old man and woman who come as a couple to hand out food to them. The park cats are actually pretty friendly.
Oh, and Japan is home to some of the best kebab stands on the planet. My favorite one is in Shibuya, near that famous intersection (you know, the gigantic Hachiko scramble crossing that was in "Lost in Translation" etc; the one that is flooded every few minutes with a chaotic sea of thousands of people ^ ^). In fact, Maya and I wandered around Shibuya for almost four hours, carving a wide ring around the station, at several points leaving Shibuya entirely, looking for it. And we finally found it, and how tasty it was.
I don't know if they have them in the States, but their defining characteristic is a gigantic haunch of beef and/or chicken rotating slowly on a vertical spit next to a hot plate. Every once in a while the hairy guy who lives in the stand (jk) takes a machete to the hunk as it rotates, and turns the delightfully spiced slivers of meat that fall off into delicious wraps or other kebab-themed foods.
Actually, writing this has made me hungry, so farewell until next time...
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Andrew Bird Still Roxxors My S0xxors
Maya and me.
Mayams in Shinjuku, next to a letter-sculpture.So I was translating some anime for fansubs earlier today, when I chanced to hear some very cheerful, uptempo music from the street beyond my balcony.
The music, which sounded like a synthesized fife tune, grew louder, accompanied by the rumble of a diesel engine. "What," I thought, "could be generating that jubilant sound?" I mean, of course I thought it was an icecream truck or something of that sort- it was the sort of music that would suit a parade of happy children.
So I open my balcony door and step out to have a look. I see a big blue truck (big for Japan anyway) with "I Love a Clean Kawasaki City" written out in Japanese on its side, and two men in blue uniforms hauling trashbags toward it.
So yes, it was a garbage truck. And you know what? I love Japanese garbage trucks.
Today was a very productive day from the standpoint of practicalities. I was able to successfully withdraw $ from the clammy, greedy clutches of Citibank, and deposit it into the warm, inviting bosom of Mitsui Sumitomo bank.
I also now have a cell phone! An honest to god Japanese cell phone from Softbank! I had to struggle through about two hours of Japanese contract-babble, of which I understood the (hopefully) most important 75%, in order to get it. And it's on the cheap side, but it's sleek and it's mine. For those who are curious and won't abuse my openness, my number is 080-3398-2494.
I carried out all of my business today in Shinjuku, since all of the relevant places were very close to the station. Shinjuku is an odd mix of pedestrian-friendly upscale shopping district and red-light district. While I was wandering amongst signs for sophisticated bars and ramen shops, I received an invitation to a "Massage" from a man with a potbelly. "Massage? You mean like shiatsu?" I asked. "Ero-massage!" beamed the man with the potbelly. Well, as is true of any good city, one can get pretty much anything one might want somehow or other.
I made it back to Shin-Kawasaki station just in time to apply for - and get - a 6 month student Suica rail pass. I ended up dropping over 30,000 yen on it, but I'll save money in the long run since I get a student discount. As it is I've been spending about 700 yen per day on train tickets.
Most urban shopping districts in Japan are multi-story, meaning many, if not most, of the shops are accessible only by a staircase or elevator from the street. This means that as you learn to read the signs, you become aware more and more of this vast consumer architecture lying under the surface of things. You can't rely on window shopping at all- I guess that's the main difference between most places in America and here. It's a strange sensation to climb a narrow flight of stairs, open a tiny door on a darkened landing, and find a treasure trove of hidden rooms and shops full of people. The cities here are like great beehives filled to the deepest most remote cavities with bees. I mean people.
Thanks, and Much Other News, Accounts Various and Amusing
Hey mum, you kick ass. Thanks for bringing Citibank to its senses. I've never made a phone call through Skype before, but I think it'll work.
And hey Kit, I've been sending emails for a while now, but I thought you might be interested in my life here (or rather, my stream-of-consciousness babble about my life here) so I'll start including you in the CC list. Is there a more current email for you? Anyway, I'll airmail you some eroge and assorted electronics from Akihabara ^ ^;
So, I was successfully able to set up a bank account in Japan (at Mitsui Sumitomo bank- at last!), after trying two other locations in addition to Citibank. I actually had fun, because I wasn't stuck for long at any particular place, and I was never put on hold : ) At Mizuho bank, I was told I needed the actual Alien Registration Card, which I'm due to get on the 30th (not the proxy certificate- The Certificate of Registered Matters, known to the Japanese by the absurdly complex denomination 登録原票記載事項証明書, or "kirokugenpyoukisaijikoushoumeisho"- I picked up at the ward office today) (also, I needed to submit a copy of my bank book to the school by the 16th, so no good). I next tried Mitsubishi Tokyo bank, but I was told I couldn't sign and would have to have a stamp made. So I inquired at the stationary shop downstairs, and apparently while they can make stamps in katakana, they only have room for four characters. Also, they can't make the "baby letters" necessary to spell my name, and with only four letters, I couldn't write "O-SA-RI-BA-N"= O'Sullivan or "Jyo-n" = John. I would have had to go with "JI-YO-N." : / and I'd have to wait three days for them to make the silly thing. To hell with that.
Eventually the international center directed me to Sumitomo bank, the clouds parted, I received my bank book, made a preliminary deposit, and submitted the necessary paperwork to the school. I'm due to receive my stipend on the 30th; both the arrival allowance and the first month's stipend. I won't have to pay for housing until November, as rent is handled in seasonal chunks. Also, the system they use at Sumitomo for signing is interesting. Japanese people can't even begin to read English signatures, so in addition to the signature, we come up with a four-digit security number. So, every time I sign a document at the bank, I sign in the little stamp-box and add my four digit number.
I'll probably end up having money in both accounts, transferring money in cash from Citibank to Sumitomo as necessary to pay my rent. Also, Sumitomo has many more convenient ATM locations, so I'll probably use those on a daily basis and just visit the Citibank ATMs to withdraw titanic, mind-boggling sums in cash (this is my dream- only you can make it happen!). I made friends with a Polish guy named Daniel, whom I met at the bank, and we ended up talking for a couple of hours since he was also a student at Keio, and our business for the day coincided from the bank to the submission of papers to Keio.
I also checked the results of the Japanese language placement test (Maya took hers yesterday. Maya and I had an excellent evening out in Shinjuku the other night, and we ate at an Indian restaurant ^ ^; We'll probably go back during the day later to see the Shinjuku Central Park. And the Cat Cafe'! What, you ask, is a Cat Cafe`? A Cat Cafe' is a place where you can order coffee and cuddle little adorable cats for a set period of time. What can I say? Japan is the greatest country on the earth). Oh right, well somehow I placed into level 10. I have no idea how, but apparently I was able to bullshit many of the answers on the placement test convincingly enough that I was graded well. Level 8 is the minimum level required to attend standard university courses, so as of now I think the entire undergraduate catalog of Keio University, with some exceptions, is open to me. The highest level is 16, but the highest anyone actually placed was 13.
Oh, about the other night. I met up with Yuutaro (my irreverent, cynical, pro-suicide RA) in the lounge, expecting to walk to the Hiyoshi dorm and maybe get some alcohol at a konbini (Japanese convenience store; shortened transliteration of "convenience"). As we sat in the lounge, though, it became apparent that I had greatly misapprehended the situation, as one after another people either showed up or were otherwise roped into going. Yuutaro speaks fluent Japanese, English, and German (four of the guys in our group were German or Austrian, so there was a lot of Deutschenbabble going on). Eventually, in a group numbering between ten and fifteen, we walked to the station and left for Shibuya. At this point, I had a fair idea of what was about to happen.
Anyway, immediately (within two minutes) of exiting the station, we were in a convenience store buying booze. And then, booze in hand, we wandered from bar to bar, each one more full of smoke and people than the last, looking for somewhere that could accommodate the seven of us together (the group had split in two). Eventually we found a dark little basement standing bar with an armless, half-dressed female manikin standing watch by the doorway, at the bottom of the staircase. Choosing arbitrarily from a three-page menu of descriptionless, often original cocktails, the group proceeded to hammer itself into jovial near-incoherence. A young Japanese guy in the bar hugged me and told me I was "cool" because I said "hey" to him in Japanese.
The drink I remember best was called "Ichigeki, Hissatsu," which costs 900 yen and translates literally to "One Shot, Certain Kill." It was tinted green, came in a shot glass, and I don't remember much after that.
Just kidding.
After that, Yutaro somehow led us to a very hip night club called "Atom." We danced in a dark, hot, multi-floor haze of pounding music and cigarette smoke, pressed on all sides by writhing, anonymous bodies, on sweat-slicked floors. I almost died, I danced so much. And then, hours later, wreathed in a strangely sweet reek of sweat and smoke, I emerged with two other people and we proceeded to try to collect our senses in the fresh air outside. This was around four am. At five thirty, Yutaro and the rest of the group came out, we walked to the station, and returned home in a half-deafened daze to sleep until the afternoon. Not something I care to do again for a long, long time, but what fun.
Alright, that's all for now. My adventures in acquiring a cell phone will begin shortly!
- Jack
I believe I have caught a cold : ( I wonder if I should wear a mask as the Japanese do at such times...)
And hey Kit, I've been sending emails for a while now, but I thought you might be interested in my life here (or rather, my stream-of-consciousness babble about my life here) so I'll start including you in the CC list. Is there a more current email for you? Anyway, I'll airmail you some eroge and assorted electronics from Akihabara ^ ^;
So, I was successfully able to set up a bank account in Japan (at Mitsui Sumitomo bank- at last!), after trying two other locations in addition to Citibank. I actually had fun, because I wasn't stuck for long at any particular place, and I was never put on hold : ) At Mizuho bank, I was told I needed the actual Alien Registration Card, which I'm due to get on the 30th (not the proxy certificate- The Certificate of Registered Matters, known to the Japanese by the absurdly complex denomination 登録原票記載事項証明書, or "
Eventually the international center directed me to Sumitomo bank, the clouds parted, I received my bank book, made a preliminary deposit, and submitted the necessary paperwork to the school. I'm due to receive my stipend on the 30th; both the arrival allowance and the first month's stipend. I won't have to pay for housing until November, as rent is handled in seasonal chunks. Also, the system they use at Sumitomo for signing is interesting. Japanese people can't even begin to read English signatures, so in addition to the signature, we come up with a four-digit security number. So, every time I sign a document at the bank, I sign in the little stamp-box and add my four digit number.
I'll probably end up having money in both accounts, transferring money in cash from Citibank to Sumitomo as necessary to pay my rent. Also, Sumitomo has many more convenient ATM locations, so I'll probably use those on a daily basis and just visit the Citibank ATMs to withdraw titanic, mind-boggling sums in cash (this is my dream- only you can make it happen!). I made friends with a Polish guy named Daniel, whom I met at the bank, and we ended up talking for a couple of hours since he was also a student at Keio, and our business for the day coincided from the bank to the submission of papers to Keio.
I also checked the results of the Japanese language placement test (Maya took hers yesterday. Maya and I had an excellent evening out in Shinjuku the other night, and we ate at an Indian restaurant ^ ^; We'll probably go back during the day later to see the Shinjuku Central Park. And the Cat Cafe'! What, you ask, is a Cat Cafe`? A Cat Cafe' is a place where you can order coffee and cuddle little adorable cats for a set period of time. What can I say? Japan is the greatest country on the earth). Oh right, well somehow I placed into level 10. I have no idea how, but apparently I was able to bullshit many of the answers on the placement test convincingly enough that I was graded well. Level 8 is the minimum level required to attend standard university courses, so as of now I think the entire undergraduate catalog of Keio University, with some exceptions, is open to me. The highest level is 16, but the highest anyone actually placed was 13.
Oh, about the other night. I met up with Yuutaro (my irreverent, cynical, pro-suicide RA) in the lounge, expecting to walk to the Hiyoshi dorm and maybe get some alcohol at a konbini (Japanese convenience store; shortened transliteration of "convenience"). As we sat in the lounge, though, it became apparent that I had greatly misapprehended the situation, as one after another people either showed up or were otherwise roped into going. Yuutaro speaks fluent Japanese, English, and German (four of the guys in our group were German or Austrian, so there was a lot of Deutschenbabble going on). Eventually, in a group numbering between ten and fifteen, we walked to the station and left for Shibuya. At this point, I had a fair idea of what was about to happen.
Anyway, immediately (within two minutes) of exiting the station, we were in a convenience store buying booze. And then, booze in hand, we wandered from bar to bar, each one more full of smoke and people than the last, looking for somewhere that could accommodate the seven of us together (the group had split in two). Eventually we found a dark little basement standing bar with an armless, half-dressed female manikin standing watch by the doorway, at the bottom of the staircase. Choosing arbitrarily from a three-page menu of descriptionless, often original cocktails, the group proceeded to hammer itself into jovial near-incoherence. A young Japanese guy in the bar hugged me and told me I was "cool" because I said "hey" to him in Japanese.
The drink I remember best was called "Ichigeki, Hissatsu," which costs 900 yen and translates literally to "One Shot, Certain Kill." It was tinted green, came in a shot glass, and I don't remember much after that.
Just kidding.
After that, Yutaro somehow led us to a very hip night club called "Atom." We danced in a dark, hot, multi-floor haze of pounding music and cigarette smoke, pressed on all sides by writhing, anonymous bodies, on sweat-slicked floors. I almost died, I danced so much. And then, hours later, wreathed in a strangely sweet reek of sweat and smoke, I emerged with two other people and we proceeded to try to collect our senses in the fresh air outside. This was around four am. At five thirty, Yutaro and the rest of the group came out, we walked to the station, and returned home in a half-deafened daze to sleep until the afternoon. Not something I care to do again for a long, long time, but what fun.
Alright, that's all for now. My adventures in acquiring a cell phone will begin shortly!
- Jack
I believe I have caught a cold : ( I wonder if I should wear a mask as the Japanese do at such times...)
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
So, it's been a little under a week, and I've been living reasonably... except for last night, which was completely nuts.
I don't have a ton of time to write, and I'm a little-hung over, so I'll just break the last half-week into quick summaries:
-Thursday: I attended primary orientation at Keio University. It was my first look at the Mita campus, which as expected is very nice (many trees, and a little hidden shrine area), but very small, especially for someone used to the scale of the University of Maryland. There was a round of self-introductions, so I was able to get a sense of the size and scope of the international program (a couple of hundred people in all). Many of the people at the orientation were from Europe, particularly Germany and Scandinavia. There was also considerable representation for Korea, Taiwan, and China. Americans were comparatively rare, with myself, two students from Texas, and two students from Michigan- that is, until they called the University of California. To be fair, the University of California has ten campuses, but to see nineteen people get up at once for a single school was a little intimidating.
After orientation I traveled by train to Akihabara, known to the cool and lazy as "Akiba," and by reputation as "電気街," or "Electric Town." I had a reason for going there! Was it the multi-story porn stores? The maid cafes? The labyrinthine rows of tiny subterranean stalls filled with assortments of naked electronic parts? No, I needed a watch and an alarm clock, which I acquired. I'll let the pictures speak for the rest, although just so you know, the KFCs in Japan are ridiculously nice. Multi-story, wood paneling, sculpted glass, and heated Japanese super-toilets in the bathroom.
-Friday: There was a secondary housing orientation on Friday which I forgot all about. Whoops. And I was even on campus while it was happening, to turn in some documents. Let us not dwell on the past. So, from the road that runs past the east entrance of the school, one can see Tokyo Tower. As I was exiting the campus, I had a brilliant idea: "Hey, isn't that vague atmosphere-shaded form in the distance Tokyo Tower? I should see Tokyo Tower." So, I started walking. Never mind that it's over a thousand feet tall. Bah. So, an hour and a half later, I arrived there, took a lot of pictures, and left.
After stumbling around the Japanese public transportation grid a little, I arrived in Harajuku for crepes with Maya. Ooh, and crepes were to be had, crepes of great fancy and deliciousness. Harajuku is known for its outrageous fashions, and on a Friday afternoon it was more than evident why. And there was also a watermelon the size of the Titanic on a stoop in front of a pastry store.
After wandering amongst trendy stores for a time, Maya and I set off together for Kinshi, bringing our climbing gear along in the hopes that we could actually locate the climbing gym, the address of which we had both neglected to either write down or remember. Which brings me to Japanese police. In America, when you think "police," you're really thinking "cop." Or at least, I am. Whatever that means for you. The police in Japan are almost universally mild-mannered, polite, helpful, insistent rather than demanding, and disciplined.
I had a slightly frustrating experience, though, when Maya and I visited the police box outside of Kinshi station to ask for directions. Essentially, even though I was the one asking the officer for directions, even though I was the one who was responding to what he was saying (essentially, I was the one he was having the conversation with), every time he would say something, even replying to a question I had asked him directly, he would speak to Maya. I'm not certain why this was- perhaps it's just because Maya's so pretty ^ ^; but my hunch is that he thought she was Japanese, and was suffering from the infuriatingly persistent misconception that some Japanese are prone to that white guys can't speak or understand Japanese. I don't mean to say everyone is like this, but here's a related phenomenon: in Japan if you're speaking to Japanese who know English, and you're white, chances are at some point you'll run across a person who will stubbornly stick to English, despite your best attempts to keep the conversation in Japanese. Sometimes they do so with an air of condescending indulgence, as if to say "it's alright, you don't have to strain yourself- I speak English."
I don't mean to dwell on that, and really the vast majority of Japanese are extremely agreeable, even those (and sometimes especially those) who speak English, but it happens, so I wrote about it.
We were eventually able to find the gym, after about an hour of getting lost and wandering around the vicinity of it. It's pretty nice, but definitely not up to Earth Treks standards. The holds seem older and more worn, and the walls are made of slick, squeaky wood instead of synthetic rock. There's only one top-rope wall, but the bouldering area is extensive. I won't bore you with details, but the system of delineating and categorizing the routes in Japan is very different, and took some figuring out. Anyway, we passed our belay tests with flying colors, climbed for an afternoon, and returned to our individual rooms and our cold beds after a tearful parting :`(
And then, yeah, Saturday: Saturday morning was the placement test. All I shall say about it is that it was three hours of intense effort and I wasn't feeling creative at all while taking the "self-expression" section, so balls and balls again. Although it seemed like the majority of people were more depressed about their respective performances than I was, so we shall see.
After that the rest of the day was spent bundled up in a shroud of translating for fansubs- and then came the night...
Actually, I'll keep you in suspense on that point, since I am to meet Maya at Shinjuku station in an hour and I must leave immediately.
A brief note on monetary matters, mum: The PIN for the account really ought to have arrived by now. Can you check with the bank and let me know what's happening?
I'm rapidly running out of the cash you gave me- of the 65,000 yen or so I came over here with, I'm down to about 27,000 just from ordinary expenses and amusements. So please, the faster I can get at the money in the account, the better.
I don't have a ton of time to write, and I'm a little-hung over, so I'll just break the last half-week into quick summaries:
-Thursday: I attended primary orientation at Keio University. It was my first look at the Mita campus, which as expected is very nice (many trees, and a little hidden shrine area), but very small, especially for someone used to the scale of the University of Maryland. There was a round of self-introductions, so I was able to get a sense of the size and scope of the international program (a couple of hundred people in all). Many of the people at the orientation were from Europe, particularly Germany and Scandinavia. There was also considerable representation for Korea, Taiwan, and China. Americans were comparatively rare, with myself, two students from Texas, and two students from Michigan- that is, until they called the University of California. To be fair, the University of California has ten campuses, but to see nineteen people get up at once for a single school was a little intimidating.
After orientation I traveled by train to Akihabara, known to the cool and lazy as "Akiba," and by reputation as "電気街," or "Electric Town." I had a reason for going there! Was it the multi-story porn stores? The maid cafes? The labyrinthine rows of tiny subterranean stalls filled with assortments of naked electronic parts? No, I needed a watch and an alarm clock, which I acquired. I'll let the pictures speak for the rest, although just so you know, the KFCs in Japan are ridiculously nice. Multi-story, wood paneling, sculpted glass, and heated Japanese super-toilets in the bathroom.
-Friday: There was a secondary housing orientation on Friday which I forgot all about. Whoops. And I was even on campus while it was happening, to turn in some documents. Let us not dwell on the past. So, from the road that runs past the east entrance of the school, one can see Tokyo Tower. As I was exiting the campus, I had a brilliant idea: "Hey, isn't that vague atmosphere-shaded form in the distance Tokyo Tower? I should see Tokyo Tower." So, I started walking. Never mind that it's over a thousand feet tall. Bah. So, an hour and a half later, I arrived there, took a lot of pictures, and left.
After stumbling around the Japanese public transportation grid a little, I arrived in Harajuku for crepes with Maya. Ooh, and crepes were to be had, crepes of great fancy and deliciousness. Harajuku is known for its outrageous fashions, and on a Friday afternoon it was more than evident why. And there was also a watermelon the size of the Titanic on a stoop in front of a pastry store.
After wandering amongst trendy stores for a time, Maya and I set off together for Kinshi, bringing our climbing gear along in the hopes that we could actually locate the climbing gym, the address of which we had both neglected to either write down or remember. Which brings me to Japanese police. In America, when you think "police," you're really thinking "cop." Or at least, I am. Whatever that means for you. The police in Japan are almost universally mild-mannered, polite, helpful, insistent rather than demanding, and disciplined.
I had a slightly frustrating experience, though, when Maya and I visited the police box outside of Kinshi station to ask for directions. Essentially, even though I was the one asking the officer for directions, even though I was the one who was responding to what he was saying (essentially, I was the one he was having the conversation with), every time he would say something, even replying to a question I had asked him directly, he would speak to Maya. I'm not certain why this was- perhaps it's just because Maya's so pretty ^ ^; but my hunch is that he thought she was Japanese, and was suffering from the infuriatingly persistent misconception that some Japanese are prone to that white guys can't speak or understand Japanese. I don't mean to say everyone is like this, but here's a related phenomenon: in Japan if you're speaking to Japanese who know English, and you're white, chances are at some point you'll run across a person who will stubbornly stick to English, despite your best attempts to keep the conversation in Japanese. Sometimes they do so with an air of condescending indulgence, as if to say "it's alright, you don't have to strain yourself- I speak English."
I don't mean to dwell on that, and really the vast majority of Japanese are extremely agreeable, even those (and sometimes especially those) who speak English, but it happens, so I wrote about it.
We were eventually able to find the gym, after about an hour of getting lost and wandering around the vicinity of it. It's pretty nice, but definitely not up to Earth Treks standards. The holds seem older and more worn, and the walls are made of slick, squeaky wood instead of synthetic rock. There's only one top-rope wall, but the bouldering area is extensive. I won't bore you with details, but the system of delineating and categorizing the routes in Japan is very different, and took some figuring out. Anyway, we passed our belay tests with flying colors, climbed for an afternoon, and returned to our individual rooms and our cold beds after a tearful parting :`(
And then, yeah, Saturday: Saturday morning was the placement test. All I shall say about it is that it was three hours of intense effort and I wasn't feeling creative at all while taking the "self-expression" section, so balls and balls again. Although it seemed like the majority of people were more depressed about their respective performances than I was, so we shall see.
After that the rest of the day was spent bundled up in a shroud of translating for fansubs- and then came the night...
Actually, I'll keep you in suspense on that point, since I am to meet Maya at Shinjuku station in an hour and I must leave immediately.
A brief note on monetary matters, mum: The PIN for the account really ought to have arrived by now. Can you check with the bank and let me know what's happening?
I'm rapidly running out of the cash you gave me- of the 65,000 yen or so I came over here with, I'm down to about 27,000 just from ordinary expenses and amusements. So please, the faster I can get at the money in the account, the better.
Oh, hahah. Well, the office is just the room where the manager and her husband sleep. When I arrived, the manager was chatting it up in the lounge with the RAs. I was able to just walk in, and she handed me the keys after I signed a form.
The flight wasn't bad at all- ANA has an extensive menu of games and movies which you can access for free. Although as far as I could tell the menu is entirely in Japanese, so good luck. I also talked with a travel agent/ tour guide named Hayasaka on the plane (he was sitting in the isle seat to my left- the middle seat was open), and he gave me his address and pretty much invited me out to Tokyo Disney World with his family. : / And I finished my book.
Anyway, I'm going soon to the ward office to submit my "Application for Alien Registration." Once that's approved, I'll be able to sign contracts for things like cell phone service. I also intend to pick up a train pass today... ah! And a trash can for the room and an umbrella and some soap and detergent and shampoo... yes...
And my RA (who's Japanese) challenged me to a drinking match later in the week, so I can look forward to seeing his cocky self under the table. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy.
The flight wasn't bad at all- ANA has an extensive menu of games and movies which you can access for free. Although as far as I could tell the menu is entirely in Japanese, so good luck. I also talked with a travel agent/ tour guide named Hayasaka on the plane (he was sitting in the isle seat to my left- the middle seat was open), and he gave me his address and pretty much invited me out to Tokyo Disney World with his family. : / And I finished my book.
Anyway, I'm going soon to the ward office to submit my "Application for Alien Registration." Once that's approved, I'll be able to sign contracts for things like cell phone service. I also intend to pick up a train pass today... ah! And a trash can for the room and an umbrella and some soap and detergent and shampoo... yes...
And my RA (who's Japanese) challenged me to a drinking match later in the week, so I can look forward to seeing his cocky self under the table. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy.
Well, just dashing off a quick note to say that I'm alive. So hurray! I got vague, misleading directions from an old man outside of my home station, but that was my first and last major hitch getting here. I ended up stopping several people and asking directions, and finally received a ride from the very kind Mr. Takanaka. It probably wasn't a good idea to have a complete stranger drive me to the dormitory, but he made a kind offer and I didn't want to walk another two kilometers through the extremely narrow sidewalks of Shin-Kawasaki, dragging all my stuff along the whole way.
So, I have an hour to take a shower, and then all the new residents and the RAs are going to go out drinking (that includes me), so prospects for rest are grim for at least the next few hours : (
I really like the dorm here. The room is just barely big enough to cram all of the essentials in, but hey, it has all the essentials. And they also have a ton of free crap lying around the lounge (or rather, neatly placed therein), including silverware and daily household implements, umbrellas, etc. that previous students left behind in their rooms. The RAs, Tanaka and Hirose, are very good people, very relaxed and welcoming. I expected to get chewed out at least a little for showing up nearly an hour late (an especially bad thing to do in Japan), but the manager and RAs were quite kind and understanding. Well, those are a few quick notes on this madness- I'm going to take a very necessary shower...
...For which I have neither soap nor shampoo... (>_<;)
So, I have an hour to take a shower, and then all the new residents and the RAs are going to go out drinking (that includes me), so prospects for rest are grim for at least the next few hours : (
I really like the dorm here. The room is just barely big enough to cram all of the essentials in, but hey, it has all the essentials. And they also have a ton of free crap lying around the lounge (or rather, neatly placed therein), including silverware and daily household implements, umbrellas, etc. that previous students left behind in their rooms. The RAs, Tanaka and Hirose, are very good people, very relaxed and welcoming. I expected to get chewed out at least a little for showing up nearly an hour late (an especially bad thing to do in Japan), but the manager and RAs were quite kind and understanding. Well, those are a few quick notes on this madness- I'm going to take a very necessary shower...
...For which I have neither soap nor shampoo... (>_<;)
Hullo, Planet.
So! Hey, first post. I'm going to go ahead and copy all the emails I've sent home so far and put them into posts. Apologies to those of you who have read them already ^ ^;
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