Showing posts with label Brother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brother. Show all posts

I Wanna Be A Cowboy

It's Monday, September 9, 1991.

Along with my girlfriend Ashley (or maybe we're not boyfriend/girlfriend and just in it for the benefits), we participated in the Yoichi Nasu Kyudo (Japanese archery) Matsuri yesterday.

I actually hit a target—just not my own. Oh well...

When I did hit that target - everyone at the tournament gasped with shock... how could a gaijin (foreigner) play our sport so well! And then when they saw it was not my target they all unclenched their sphincters.

I'm just guessing.

The Japanese are a notoriously proud people - as well they should be. But to ensure that you - the gaijin - are aware that what your are seeing, doing or wearing is actually Japanese, they will refer to it as a Japanese so-and-so.

Examples I can easily toss out are: Japanese rice; Japanese chopsticks; Japanese kimono. It does seem, at first glance for a guy coming over from Canada, to be completely ridiculous, as these items in Canada are simply known as rice, chopsticks and kimono.

I supposed that if I were at a Chinese restaurant I'd be eating Chinese rice with my chopsticks while wearing a Chinese kimono. Or Indian rice with my Indian chopsticks (also known as fingers) while wearing my Indian kimono (sari).

I get it... There are other countries that offer a similar product (Korea does have a kimono - though I doubt they call it one), and the Japanese just want to ensure you/me/us know that it is of Japanese origin - and that everybody stole it from Japan.

That's a paraphrase from a Gilligan's Island television episode:

Gilligan: "I thought it was Chinese water torture."
Japanese Soldier: "They copied it from Japan."

I love that line... even though they had a guy with an Italian name play the part of the Japanese soldier - Vito Scotti.

Anyhow... I'm feeling blah! It's an office day because all of the recent school festivals meant the students weren't doing enough work... so they wanted to keep me out for a day to help teachers and students get back into the swing of things... or something like that. I usually got explanations for things, but often it was tell me where I'm going and who cares about the explanation, as I knew it would be a difficult thing to have translated for me.

It looks like the typhoon is about to hit - again. I go into the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) office - and the first thing I tell all all of the anxious faces is: "Dame!  Ze-ro" (essentially, "no way - zero" ). I explain all of my bad luck yesterday - leaving out the sex, and everyone gets a chuckle because it is rather funny, and I have a big grin on my face as I re-tell the days events.

Kanemaru-san invites me to participate in another kyudo tournament next weekend. I actually want to participate now... but I have committed to be part of some JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme dance event in Nikko.

I go home at lunch and do some more of my puzzle... it's not coming as easily as the last one that I seemingly did in my sleep one evening, as my brain took over and just kept slapping down piece after piece until I forced myself to regain control.
 
I write another letter to my brother Ben, and receive one from my gal Kristine who lives 500 kilometres away. Brains, beauty and a fantastic sense of humour - she always seemed too good for me, and 20 years later, I congratulate myself on being correct.

Back at the OBOE office - I goof around some more. I do some work on a couple of stories, and do a few puzzles. It's a nice change of pace from being on the go and being so in-demand nearly every day. I don't mind that, but it is nice to do nothing and get paid for it.

I ride home in the drizzle and sit amongtst my messy apartment and do more of my puzzle. I am actually unaware as to when my apartment finds the time to get messy, as it seems like I tidy up every day. God! Am I anal retentive neat? My parents would have a heart attack if they knew that, because I have always been messy. I guess now that I have people (and especially women) going in and out of my place, I want the place to look like it belongs to a guy who knows how to look after himself.

I watch some sumo (Japanese wrestling) on television and then race off to teach at my night school English conversation class for beginners that I do to make some extra cash on the side. Basically, it helps pay for the food Ashley and Matthew consume. :)

I have four new students tonight... all female of course. The majority of my class is female. I'm not complaining, but I really do think that most of them spend the entire time there making eyes at me and then demurely lowering the head when I look at them.

Of my new students, two are actually from Wakakusa Chu Gakko (Wakakusa Junior High School) - but unlike any I've met at that school... these ones do not understand anything I say... even when I ask them: "What is your name?"

They point at their nose, as if to grasp that I am indeed talking to them... I am... I'm looking right at them and have leaned in close. But... they can't even answer that until my other students translate for them.

But that's okay... it is a beginner's course, afterall. Why would anyone come here if they didn't need to be here? Not for me, I hope.

My other two students are women in their late 40s or early 50s... I really seem to have a look cougars like - horny.

Not surprisingly... Shoko is absent. She and I were supposed to go out for a date last Friday. She was to have called me and told me when and where. She did try, but I must have missed her call. That sucks... but I hope she isn't avoiding me?

Last night Naoko came over to talk. Naoko likes myself and Matthew - but just as friends. My mom visited here last month and was really quite disappointed that Naoko and I were only friends, and spend an inordinate amount of time looking for a husband for Naoko if I wasn't going to step up... and I wasn't.

Shoko and Naoko are friends. I explained what happened, and I assume that now Shoko knows. It wasn't me being malicious or afraid or anything like that... just crappy timing.

At break, while everyone goes off to chat, I sit at my desk by myself and wonder what the hell I am going to teach them tonight. I really should come up with a teaching plan, but I have always preferred to just wing it!

I decide to teach them some very difficult 'tense' material... but the class keeps surprising me and gets most of it.

I ride home after class, take a whiz and then go over to Matthew's place to watch a television show - Robin Hood - until midnight. It's a good but not great program, because the archery in it... is not Japanese.

Somewhere this Indian wants to find a kimono-clad Cowgirl,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog is by: Boy's Don't Cry: YOYO

 

 

O Canada


Today is Canada's birth – Monday, July 1,1991 - its 124th, if you are keeping count.
I'm in Oyama-shi (city of Oyama),Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan.
I've been here for 11 months, andrecently signed up for a second year as an assistant English teacher (AET) onthe Japan Exchange & Teaching (JET) Programme.
This was never my dream job nor my dreamcountry to visit. Like so many things I've done in the past, I'm here because Iwas trying to impress a woman. To get laid.
I failed. Not only did I get the job andhave to leave my home in Toronto, Canada, but I didn't  get any sex - though I did develop a powerfulhandshake and a  Popeye-like forearm.
But that all changed when I got to Japan.I've been making out pretty well for a guy who... well.. I've doing okay. I'vebeen meeting lots of people, having great adventures and having sex.
My most recent conquest was Junko... avery attractive university student who visited one of the seven junior highschools I teach at for the week as part of an internship. We hit it offspectacularly but we knew we would only have five days together at the mostowing to the fact she would have to go back to school in Utsunomiya-shi tocomplete her studies.
Instead, she stalked me. Followed me toTokyo Disneyland and when confronted she told me she was quite willing to quiteschool for me and move to Canada to be my wife and have my kids. Maybe I shouldhave taken her up on that. Instead, I told her to leave me alone and had topretend to like men (and women) to get her to leave me alone. Apparently shedid not want to share me with another man, though other women were okay. Shewas perfect! Except for the fact that I think she may have been a tad nuts.
Yesterday (a week later) here inOyama-shi, I spotted her hiding from me in a restaurant. How the heck shefollowed me – or even how long had she been following me – I have no idea. Shehad also (it seems) been telephoning me and not talking – perhaps just to hearmy voice. It’s very flattering – but nuts.
At least I’m aware now that I’m beingfollowed – but I don’t tell MariAnn or Matthew who are with me here in Oyama-shi(MariAnn’s hometown).
We’re here to visit the Canadian Embassy fora Canada birthday party. Matthew is an American and as such – we couldn’t gethim in. I have no idea how MariAnn got us invited to this thing – but I’mgrateful.
I will sleep with her as a form ofthanks.
That’s a joke.
I’d sleep with her even if she didn’t getme into this party. That’s just the type of guy I have become. A real horn dog.But... she would never sleep with me. What’s wrong with her?
We’re up at 7AM. Gael left last night, sothe three of us head down to Kite Urawa (North Urawa) to obtain our work Visafor the next 365 days. It takes us two hours to get there and we arrive at10:15AM.
Unfortunately, MariAnn and I have toleave at 10:45AM to get down to the Canadian embassy... so we leave Matthewthere.
We have to hurry. We transfer to four trainsand then try to hail a taxi... one finally agrees to take us the 10 metres (30feet) and Y540 ($5.40 Cdn/US) later to the door.
We rush in and are greeted by Canada’s ambassadorto Japan himself: James Hutchings Taylor! How cool was that?
Inside the embassy, I meet Tracy – a gorgeousredhead at met back at the Toronto JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching)Programme orientation. Jennifer Chuo, whom I sat beside on the plane over, Mona– my friend Tim Mould’s girlfriend and a few others I knew were there.Apparently only the female AETs on the JET Programme were invited. I think Ilike this Ambassador Taylor guy!
I meet Ambassador Taylor again and have alittle one-on-one time with him. Chatting, I tell him all about my life inOhtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken where I now live – and he seems quite amused by myfun times! He then asks me what I did back home in Canada.
I answer: “Back home in Toronto, I usedto be a reporter for the Toronto Star.”
He says, “Reporter? ... Excuse me.” Andthe quickly leaves me alone.
Weird but funny.
It was a very nice low-key time. Noglitz, at least as Canada is in a bad way right now with a horrible recessiongoing on.
Just before I’m about to leave,Ambassador Taylor comes up to me and hands me a small package and says: “It wasa pleasure meeting you Mr. Joseph. I hope you continue to have a good time herein Japan” (emphasizing the word ‘time’)..... shakes my hand and leaves. He didn’tdo that to anyone else. Just me.
I’m impressed that he knew who the heck Iwas – or that he remembered.
I don’t have time to open the present –and since no one else seemed to have got one, I keep my gift hidden and tomyself, telling no one about it.
It was 3PM then and MariAnn and I had toleave to go back to Kite Urawa to pick up our Work Visa before the place closedat 4:30PM.
We arrived at the office at 4:32PM. Itwas closed, but when they saw us pounding on the door, they opened up and letthe two of us in. We got lucky that they were so nice and considerate.
Visa in hand, we head back to Omiya-shi whereMariAnn lives and eat dinner at McDonalds.
I say good bye to her and thank her somuch for inviting me to the Canadian Embassy party and then take the shinkansen(bullet train) back home.
I missed one by two minutes and had towait another 52 minutes for the next one.
Arriving back at Nishinasuno-eki (Nishinasuno train station), I ridehome via taxi – and then mid-way change my mind.
I have a night school class to teachtonight, and even though I’ve missed half of it, I go to the TBC building.People are still there and seem very happy to see me. Lots of people.
After class I go home and chat withAshley for 2-1/2 hours – but decide not to tell her about Junko at all.
I then phone home and talk with my mom,dad and brother Ben for a half hour before calling it a night.
Ashley has invited me to dinner at herplace tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it.

Somewhere wondering where Junko is hidingtonight,
Andrew Joseph
Today’s blog title is by The DuBay Band:STANDONGUARD
PS: I suppose you are wondering what itwas that Ambassador Taylor gave me... it was a watch. It hasthe flags of our 10 Provinces and then two Territories (we now have three ofthose – so at least my watch kept excellent Canadian time for awhile!).Thank-you Canada! Thank-you Ambassador Taylor! Thank-you MariAnn!
PPS: Why no photo? The watch is missing! I have every single watch I have ever owned - excluding one lost by Ashley in a river in Thailand (My favourite Donald Duck watch)... but when I went to get the watch for a photo  - the damn thing went missing. I'm pretty sure it survived the fire... tell you what - if I find, I'll print a photo of it on July 1. That leaves me with two months to scour the house! 

Smells Like Teen Spirit

Want to know one of my weirdest moments in Japan? The one that first kind of nailed home the whole culture shock thing?
It was 1991 and I was 26-years-old. I had been living quite comfortably in Japan for maybe nine months or more, and was feeling quite acclimatized. I was learning the language and generally feeling quite good with the whole living from out of my parent's shadow.
And then, my younger brother Ben - who was 18 at the time - sent me some taped music of some groups I'd never heard of before... Nirvana and Soundgarden.
The sound was totally awesome. It was power rock and roll of the likes I hadn't heard since the 1960s died... I mean Led Zeppelin is great - but it wasn't garage power rock.
I listened the tapes over and over again - thrashing my hair and banging my head.
And then it hit me.
I'm doing the headbanger's ball thing thrashing my head forwards and back while jumping up and down on my bed... and my bed had no bounce. I was jumping up and down on a futon.
A futon.
I definitely wasn't in Canada. I was in Japan.
It didn't feel like nirvana.

Somewhere my neck hurts from all the thrashing of my neck around,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is mumbled to us by Nirvana: NEVERMIND
PS: There were more than a few instances where I suddenly realized I wasn't in Canada. The weird stuff that happened and I've so-far recorded for you in these blogs, is just everyday cultural differences. More to come eventually.