And not just any old maps, but rather ones that are fairly accurate.
Of course, on any given day, that brand new map or globe one bought yesterday could be woefully out of date as yet another country declares its independence before seeking global financial aid.
Anyhow, that is a poor segue into my topic du jour:
One day while I was sitting in the teacher's lounge having a dry martini while waiting for my clothes to dry after being forced to ride my bicycle to work in a typhoon (hurricane for those in the western hemisphere), one of the teacher's who shall remain nameless, because I have long forgotten who he is - if I ever knew - came up to me to talk to me in Japanese.
I was at Ohtawara Chu Gakko (Ohtawara Junior High School) in Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara, Tochigi-ken (Province/prefecture of Tochigi) in Japan. I was an assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme who was probably over-paid to teach the local kids English while working with a Japanese teacher of English.
Now, as you may or may not now, I did not know how to speak Japanese before arriving in Japan - except for maybe the cliche 'domo arrigato, mister roboto.' And, after nearly two years here, my level of conversational Japanese had improved 100 per cent as I now knew eight Japanese words.
Regardless, knowledge of the Japanese language was not really necessary as I saw this History teacher approach. He had in his hands a long tube that had a strap so that he could carry it over his shoulder - even though he wasn't doing that, as it was in his hands.
He wanted to show me... the tube?
"Sugoi (neat-o)," I said.
He scowled at me and said something or another in Japanese, and then popped open the tube and pulled out a rolled piece of laminated paper.
It was a map.
"Sugoi (neat-o)" I repeated.
He continued to scowl at me and moved my martini out of the way by drinking it in one gulp.
He then unrolled the map placing some previously unseen full martini glasses down to hold it in place.
He was an ass for drinking my drink, but a gentleman for providing me with more.
However, seeing either the map unfurled on my desk, or perhaps sensing the plethora of booze in front of me, other teachers poured over to my desk to see what was going on.
With everyone sufficiently happy with the knowledge that there were enough drinks for every man, someone yelled at the closest available woman - the science teacher - and bade her to go and make some more drinks - shaken, not stirred, of course. I'm just assuming that last part, because no one had, until that point, said anything in English.
Another teacher - this one who spoke a modicum of English - looked at the map, sipped at his martini and said: "Ah so-ka. A Mapu." Which if my Japanese translation skills are any good means: "Oh yeah... a map."
I chugged my martini lest the map guy try and suck it back for me, and looked about for another. Fortunately, the science teacher was smart enough to call all of the other female teachers to ask for help, and I had a beaker full of vodka (I prefer vodka over gin martini's) to guzzle.
I looked at the map closely, perhaps for the first time. My vision was either blurry from whatever chemicals were still in that unwashed science beaker, or this map was messed up.
The continents were upside down, but the English writing wasn't.
My English speaking anonymous friend said: "Ahh, thisu mapu izu ahpu-sidoh-down-mapu."
I read the inscription on the map (see photo above), and discovered that regardless of whatever the heck he had said, this map was an upside down map. Freaky.
While it was easy enough to spot Canada, I had great difficulty in finding Japan. It just wasn't oriented correctly, no pun intended. Or maybe it was.
Luckily the class bell rang and one of my English teacher's came into the lounge, ordered up a martini and came over to see what all the hub-bub was about, bub.
He said: "Ah so-ka. An-do-ryu sensi (Andrew teacher), thisu mapu izu ahpu-sidoh-down-mapu."
His English was understandable, unlike everyone else's in this school - probably because he wasn't drunk yet.
He said the map bearer had gone to Australia a few years previous and brought back this interesting map, as he was the Geography teacher and liked maps almost as much as some writers like to write the word 'map'.
Apparently I got what subject he taught wrong, too.
What the heck is in this martini beaker?
Anyhow, all of the teachers stood around wanting to know why Australia has a map like this.
"Jodan," I replied while smiling as my beaker was refilled.
"Jodan?" asked the English teacher not sure what English word I had uttered.
"It's a joke," I further explained, this time in English rather than Japanese.
"Ah so ka! Jodan!" yelled the English teacher.
"Jodan!?" yelled the rest of the teachers.
"Hai. So desu," I said.
Blank, deathly silence.
"Yes. It is," I repeated, also this time in English.
My English was translated back to the other teachers and everyone had a good laugh.
And that - excluding the made-up stuff about booze in school - was a typical day in Japan for me.
Somewhere wondering why no one understands me when I speak Japanese,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by: Australia's Men At Work: VEGAMITE
PS: By the way, in an effort to bring in and show me that wonderful map, that Geography teacher went out and spent the equivalent of $700 Cdn on that carrying case. Of course it was made of the skin of some animal that had just gone extinct, but I think he got his money's worth on the day's event.
PPS: I also have difficulty in understanding a lot of the Australians. But not the New Zealanders for some reason. Perhaps it's because the New Zealanders I met in Japan were usually my bartender.
PPPS: I also prefer Marmite over Vegamite. Not really.
PPPPS: I forgot to post the photo on yesterday's blog. It's steamy hot.
