Farmer Gets The Salt Out

No salt required! Japanese farm grows tomatoes with algae.

A few weeks ago, I wondered aloud in this blog just how Japanese farmers were going to cope with the problem of their farmland being salted after the March 11, 2011 tsunami poured water from the Sea of Japan onto it. That blog is HERE.

It is a major problem, and one of which there does not seem to be a lot of mainstream media coverage on.

According to AP (American Press), who made some rough estimates back in April 2011, based on 2010's harvest yield in the tsunami-hit towns, at the most 8% of Japan's 4-million acres rice farm land has been affected by the tsunami, which is about 4% pf Japan's total rice population.  

Of course, that only talks about rice farmers. It also fails to take into account the problems of radiation in the Fukushima-ken (Fukushima Prefecture) area where the Dai-ichi nuclear facility nearly experienced a nuclear meltdown, but still spewed a lot of radioactive debris into the atmosphere (and thus into the soil).


While scientists are still mulling over solutions for teh radioactive land, there are solutions to the salted earth concern.

Solutions include digging up the soil and replacing it with clean soil... a massive and expensive proposition to say the least, and one that Japan is in the process of undertaking; other options the farmers are using is to wash the salt out of the soil—but even scientists say this could be a year-long proposition.

But one Japanese farm in Iwanuma-shi (City of Iwanuma) in Miyagi-ken (Miyagi Prefecture) has hit upon a radical new way of desalinating his farmland—bacteria.

Cyanobacteria (also known as blue-green algae) is typically found in seawater and sludge on the seafloor. But what is of great importance is that when the algae photosynthesizes, it consumes the salt in the water.

Sixty-two-year-old Japanese farmer Iizuka Etsuo (surname first), mixed the algae in with the  soil of his 1,000-square-meter farm that was damaged by the tsunami back in June 2011 and planted 400 tomato plants. As of August 20, 2011, he harvested some 4000 tomatoes.

According to Nishtsuji Kazuma (surname first), the 29-year-old president of My Farm, a Kyoto, Japan-based company that developed the algae method of desalination: "The new method uses sludge left on the farmland. We hope to use it on rice fields as well."

Farmer Iizuka extolls, "I'm happy the tomatoes grew better than expected. I want to make it a local brand."

While not enough to retire on, it does show that the algae process works, and Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife salutes the new method and the Japanese farmers  - all of them - making a go of things after all of the trouble of March 11, 2011.

Files by Andrew Joseph

When The Levee Breaks

I'm going to combine a couple of days here because not a lot happens



Sunday, September 29, 1991. Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan.



I'm an assistant English teacher on the Japan Exchange & Teaching (JET) Programme, and arrived here back in late July 1990.



... I'm kind of waiting to see what fallout there is from Ashley (my ex-girlfriend but current occasional sleeping partner) and Karen (who wants me for a boyfriend) going to Nikko-shi (City of Nikko) together for a few days.



At this time, I am unaware if either really knows anything about my involvement with the other. Ashley and I had hooked up on our second day here. Karen arrived a year later and hung out with my mother a month ago when she came for a visit. Worlds colliding!



Here's what is going on:

Ashley is from Augusta, Georgia, USA, brunette:

1. Ashley and I broke up about four months ago; 


2. We decided two months ago that we trusted each other enough that we could still sleep together;


3. She doesn't want a boyfriend... or not one who was crowding her;


4. She always came to my place, so I am unsure what crowding I was providing.

Karen is from North Bay, Ontario, Canada, redhead:

1. Karen and I met after I was part of Tochigi JET committee to welcome newcomers; 


2. Hot and heavy to start, she begged us to slow down so that we could first become boyfriend/girlfriend;


3. She hung out with my mom sewing pillow covers for my couch; 


4. She traveled with my mom ingratiating herself.

Shoko is from Ohtawara, Tochigi, Japan, raven-haired:

1. Shoko and I first met at a party hosted by the Ohtawara International Friendship Association;


2. May have joined my night school English class due to urging from mutual friend Naoko, whom my mom wished I was dating... or Karen... but not Ashley. She never met Shoko. I don't think my mom cares for shy girls for me; 


3. Tall, slender, shy and cute, she doesn't speak much English, but she likes Andrew. A lot;


4. She and Andrew have tried to make a date happen, but Andrew must have angered the gods, as the date has not yet happened.  

Andrew is from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, dunderhead: 

1. Was a virgin, but not virginal before arriving in Japan; He owes Ashley one cherry;  


2. Despite what Ashley wants, he can't stand losing, and wants her back as a girlfriend;  


3. Despite what Karen wants, she has some baggage, and he doesn't want a girlfriend;


4. Thinks he knows what Shoko wants, and thinks he wants a girlfriend.

You know what? If I had just stopped and made a list like this back in 1991, I would have realized just how stupid I was making my wonderful rife! Hell... should we add in Cathy, who just wanted to sleep with me (or maybe wanted a boyfriend)? What about Kristine, whom I adore, she likes me, would have slept with me, but I thought she might have been to good for me? Then there was Christine... she just wanted sex, but I just wanted to get back with Ashley (after we first broke up in November 1990). And what about the two Thai women - gorgeous Tookta and ravishing Boon-mee... I slept with them separately, and together! There was proof that I am good enough for anyone! What about Junko... my hot-to-trot stalker who had the looks and talent to put a Miss Universe to shame, provided the talent was sexual? There are still others, but most were just one-nighters!

Can't we all just get along? Like the two Thai chicks and myself? That's international fraternization!

So... I didn't even mention that I am teaching junior high school English at seven school here in Ohtawara. I also teach an English class to the Ohtawara International Friendship Association for a few bucks once a week. I play kyudo (Japanese archery). I am the editor and chief bottle-washer for the Tochigi JET newsletter The Tatami Times. I am the ear and conscience for many an AET who has troubles, concerns, or just wants to share a laugh. I don't smoke. Started drinking - but never at home. I never sleep, it seems, and when I do, it's not well. I've been hit twice by cars while riding my bicycle. I owned a motorcycle, but it scared the crap out of me so I sold it after only riding it once. I'm growing my hair and have it in a pony-tail. I'm charming, smart and very witty and have a huge ego thanks to all of this. Yet, I don't think I show off my ego, as I tend to be self-deprecating. It keeps me grounded. I love Japan. Japan loves me. I feel like I'm being pulled in a thousand directions all at once. Friends like James and especially Matthew help keep me pointed in the right direction.

Whenever I am in a state of flux, I clean my apartment. Today is no exception. I do laundry, vacuum, iron, go shopping for food at Iseya and then visit a small hobby store and purchase a video game for my Sega Game Gear hand-held system - it's a tank battle game.

I get it home, and everything is in Japanese. The instructions are in Japanese, but so too is the game play! What the hell does it say? 

Oh yeah... I speak Japanese like a six-year-old, and can not read or write the language... at least not at a level worth mentioning. Rather than spending my time studying the language, I am reading history books and talking to the Japanese to get as much data as possible on what Japanese life is all about.  Remember... this is 1991... before the Internet became full of information and porn.

I wonder what the hell Ashley and Karen are talking about?    

Now, it's Monday, September 30, 1991. I'm at Ohtawara Chu Gakko (Ohtawara Junior High School, also known as Dai Chu /Big Middle). I love this school. yes, it's the largest of my seven schools, but I never feel lost here. I almost feel like a teacher here and less like a gaijin (foreigner) than anywhere else.

I have three classes today, and all of them are second-years... Grade 8 (13-year-olds). It's the same format as with most schools... good but a tad boring. I read the New Horizons textbook at normal foreigner speed, so that the students can hear what a normal conversation might sound like. Then I read it slowly so that the students can hear how the English words should be pronounced. Then the students read it together with me. Then students read it individually with me or with me providing positive feedback. There is always positive feedback. You never want to make anyone suddenly hate English because the teacher or AET was a dick.

Lunch is natto. Natto is rotting fermented soy beans. We mix in some soy sauce and some hot mustard with the natto and then pour the gloopy, smelly mess onto a bed of hot rice and eat away with chopsticks.

From what I've been told... the eastern and northern parts of Japan will eat natto, but the western part - no way in hell. 

Most gaijin won't eat it, but... for myself... I now look at stuff like that and say, yeah... I have to eat it. The Japanese often expect gaijin to not eat or like certain foods or drinks, because they are not Japanese... but dammit! I came to this country to blow away stereotypes! Gaijin don't eat natto? Screw that! I'll eat it and tell you it's delicious!

To prove a point, or perhaps because the natto destroyed my tastebuds and sense of smell, I take home three packets of natto (my natto was packaged in a small 3" x 3" styrofoam package about one-inch deep. The natto had a thin, but thick clear plastic film atop it, and came with a small plastic package of soy sauce and one of hot mustard that sat in the package atop the film.

The school even packs a couple of tupperware containers of rice for me. So... at home... I have two packages of natto for dinner. And one for breakfast.

Since I have night school tonight, I make sure I gargle the hell out of my mouth to wash the bad breath away. And... it's a very good thing I do. I now have 19 women in my class (and five men). The women are getting younger and hotter.

Shoko is there, and man does she look yummy. So I ask her out! I also give her a birthday present (forgive me, but I did not note what it was that I gave her!). She says yes... but I'll call her and set it up!

Matthew comes over and we watch an episode of Magnum PI. When he leaves, I call home and thank my dad for the Spanish phrase book that I can use to converse with a Peruvian student at Wakakusa Chu Gakko (Wakakusa Junior High School) the next time I visit. 

Somewhere expecting the other shoe to drop,

Andrew Joseph

Today's blog title is sung by Zeparella: WAITFORIT.

PS: When the Levee Breaks is a Led Zepellin song, but they didn't write it! It was written by Memphis Minnie and Kansas Joe McCoy. I'm unsure if it's Kansas Joe from Kansas or Missouri. Anyhow... Zeparella... chicks rocking out to a Led Zep cover! They're pretty and pretty good!  

It's Oh So Quiet

It's another pretty good day for me. It's Wednesday, September 18, 1991 and I'm teaching this week at Ohtawara Chu Gakko (Ohtawara Junior High School) here in Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan.

I've been here for 13 months+ and I've had my ups and downs in Japan - most of it having to do with women - and not the fact I am living alone for the first time in my life, and doing so in a country I know next to nothing about.

My students are obedient, polite, smart and fun to be around - unlike some school's I won't mention. It was Kaneda Kita Chu Gakko (Kaneda North Junior High School).

I play baseball with the students after lunch again and have a great time talking in Japanese and English to them, as they do the same! This is what being a teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme is all about!

Since there's a teacher's meeting at 4PM, I get to leave early. despite being called a teacher here - I'm not really., I'm a walking, talking, hairy tape recorder - but it's okay. The job is actually easy at good school's like this where the students listen.

After riding home on my bicycle - it's a 10-minute trip, I head over to my back doctor. It's been seven weeks since I last had an adjustment, and man, it feels great! I guess I was merely out of sorts all this past time.

I go shopping and buy a Japanese ready-made meal, instead of going to a fast-food restaurant. If I could learn how to cook this stuff, I'd feel more Japanese than gaijin (foreigner), but cooking for one is an arduous, time-consuming chore.

Back home I eat and finish off half of the bottom of my 5000 piece puzzle of The Tower of Babel - and appropriate theme considering my Japanese language skills are not very good - and I doubt they ever will be. I'm not very good with languages - and even failed Grade 12 English once! (I am a writer now in 2011! So take that high school!)

I go to bed at 12:30AM - after deciding not to call up any more new female JET arrivals to chat. I enjoy the comfort of being alone.

Ashley, my friend-with-benefits (and ex-girlfriend here) did call me up to say she wouldn't be coming for our kyudo (Japanese archery) lesson today as she has the runs. I'm supposed to go by myself tonight, but decide I'm not really in the mood for the frustration the sport brings me.

Oh well... sometimes a guy just needs a night off to relax rather than to be everybody else's monkey.

Somewhere babbling to myself,
Andrew Joseph
Our musical guest sponsoring my title (okay, the song I chose for the title is played by:) is Björk: NICEANDICY-COOL. Her squinty eyes remind me of Ashley's.
PS - Where's all the excitement? Have you ever heard of the 'eye of the storm'? It's slowly coming. Patience, young Jedi.   

Do You Wanna Dance?

I actually had a headline in my diary of: Dancing, drinking, dining and ? So, I'm going to use it in my opening line.

It's Sunday, September 15, 1991 here in lovely Ohtawara City, Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan. It's a pity I'm not going to be here much today.

I get up at 9:29AM - exactly one minute before Ashley phones to wake me up. I would have killed her if she had. You know what I mean... you are always ticked off when someone else wakes you up.

Matthew comes over 20 minutes later, and we ride over to Nishinasuno-eki (Nishinasuno train station) and the ride the rails down to the Tochigi capital city of Utsunomiya.

We are supposed to participate in some cultural even with other assistant English teachers (AETs) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme - international dancing.

I'm pretty sure Matthew is like me - what the hell? Dancing? But, when asked, we have always done our duty while here in Japan. Always. We might occasionally whine about it to each other, but we are always there front and center whenever cultural barriers need to be fortified or broken down.

We don't ride down with Ashley - she must have got on the train before us. Matthew and I take an Express Train to the city, as we missed an earlier one by four minutes. Arriving, we are early and go to the local Robinson's department store and play some video games at their arcade.

I can't remember the name of the game, but the object is to shoot at any alien that moves. Is there a game called Area 51 where you use a hand held gun? When we finish, we both feel like we need to kill someone or something. It was that intense. So, with that in mind, we head over to the dance-thing and proceed to kill the afternoon.

At a Prefectural board room, we practice dancing some of the usual cultural dances that everybody does back in Canada and the United States: The Hawaiian Hula; France's Can-Can; and some redneck line dance which is supposed to represent Canada. Geez... I have watched all of these dances before... but does anybody really want to watch a guy with hairy legs kick up his heels and do the Can-Can? I'm not wearing underwear today! Watch out first row! You know I'm going to be front and center on the stage! Ego? Maybe... But, I also know that is where they will put me.

Fellow AET Alan Broomhead wonders aloud why we are doing this dance stuff when we should be trying to break down the cultural stereotypes. Man... when you are right, Alan, you are right. I need a beer.

During the dances, I am indeed front and center in the show. I think I need to stop answering my phone so I don't get roped into these things. Dancing. Yeesh.

When it's all over (man, I can't dance for beans), Matthew and I, as the more mature people, lead the other AETs to a Japanese fast food place. Okay, Matthew and I aren't really leaders or all that mature... we are just the ones who have been here the longest - though Ashley, who has also been here nearly 14 months, was merely a dance spectator and didn't seem to mind that others - Matthew & I  - were in the spotlight. To be honest, I think Ashley always hates being in the spotlight... and being with me as my boyfriend in Japan was always putting her in some sort of spotlight - probably another reason not to be my boyfriend. I mean... who wants a boyfriend that breaks into a closed pottery museum or gets drunk and wakes up within a previously-locked taxidermy exhibit of a forest scene? Apparently a lot of women, according to the notches on my bedpost... just not the girl I wanted.

More on the spotlight... I wasn't famous... or infamous... I was just the guy with the big mouth and the great big grin that made the Japanese feel at ease. Matthew was like that too - just not as loud or brash as myself. I think he made the more upper-crust and middle-class people at ease, while I handled the lower to middle-class with my bold and daring manner. Matthew, of course, could be every bit the goofball I was, but just chose to show it in small doses. Does that sound right... or even fair, Matthew?

At the restaurant area of Utsunomiya... Matthew and I lead a bunch of people to a Japanese fast food place, while others opt for the next-door pizza place - as they may have been homesick from some gaijin (foreigner) junk food cooking. Personally, I can tolerate it, but Japanese pizzerias aren't the same as the fare back home in Toronto... just like a Chicago pizza is miles apart from a New York-style, etcetera.

We have some great food - and get the gang with us to try Japanese food they have not yet had. We chat with the friendly chef - in English... though Matthew was equally happy to speak to him in Japanese!

Finished, we meet up with the pizza people and lead them over to the Robinson's department store - where some western-style products could be purchased for a premium.

I have Ashley stick close to me because I want her to purchase some make-up for me to cover-up these dark rings around my eyes... but 9000 yen ($90)? Forget it! I'll try and get more sleep.

We then go for a drink or two at the Mexi Restaurant, where one or two drinks actually means seven beers. Ashley has five Tequila Sunrises!

I'm my usual demure self - wild and unruly, and hopefully funny. It's always been my opinion that when I get drunk, I just get louder and not more obnoxious.

When it becomes obvious that my unruliness outweighs any possible charm I possess, Ashley takes me by the hand says good night for me and leads me home.

On the way, I tell her I love her - as a friend... which makes her cry.

We ride our bicycles back from Nishinasuo-eki holding hands all the way to her place., where I breakdown and cry and blather on about how it feels like everybody wants me for something and how I need to go home.

I then tell her my grandfather died recently. That was an attempt to get pity. Grandpa had died back in February and I didn't tell anyone about that.

She leaves me alone in a room to be sad by myself as it's obvious she doesn't know how to act around my act - though she didn't know I was acting. Now that's acting!

So, I put on my shoes and start to leave. She comes after me running and cries as she doesn't know how to act, as I have always been the strong one when it comes to toughing it out here in Japan... and if I feel like I want to go home, how can anyone survive here?

Geez... put some more pressure on me. Fortunately, I'm too drunk to think about that.

We go back into her apartment and make love. Not sex. Love. And then sleep... it's 3AM and the floor is spinning. How the hell can I make love when I'm so drunk the room is spinning? Or is it merely my life spinning out of control?

Somewhere the planet is spinning on the wrong axis,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Beach Boys: DANCE! Though I suppose I could have done David Bowie's LET'S DANCE. Two for the price of one! Who says you can't get value with your blog reading?!
PS: I said my grandfather had died to get pity and sex. That's so frigging low. I am so sorry Ashley. It's funny... I can think of three times now in the first 14 months of Japan where I have been so hammered drunk where I started to cry like a little baby. Clearly the pressure of being popular in Japan and doing everything everyone has asked of me is getting to me... of course... it's usually because of woman problems when I feel at my lowest.
PPS: There's probably a reason why I have only been toasted maybe three times in the past 11 years.
PPPS: Pretty bizarre that despite the plethora of alcohol, I still remembered darn near everything to write it down in my diary. A diary I had never thought of writing before Japan, and never did afterwards. I always knew I would do something with it one day. Even if it means making myself look like an immature jackass. Hey. That's who I was sometimes.
PPPPS: Believe it or not... things start to get better, as once I get over the self-pity crap, I actually feel good about myself - and Japan had better watch-out!

Let's Get It Started

I head to Nozaki Chu Gakko (Nozaki Junior High School) this morning still in a bit of pain from the exercise I did two days ago with my friend and fellow assistant English teacher (AET) Matthew.

It's Tuesday, September 3, 1991 here in Ohtawra-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan, and I'm enjoying my time at this school - always my favourite - from the teachers all the way to the students. It's pure pleasure to know one gets to work in such a happy environment!

I have three classes today (which means I have two classes off). The two with Hiyama-sensei are well-prepared and go fairly well. She's teaching mostly younger kids (Grades 7 & 8 - or in Japan, Year 1 and Year2), and they all seem eager to learn. Nagashima-sensei's classes are full of enthusiasm, too. If only all the schools were as well-prepared and mentally-fit as this one!

Immediately after class and before lunch, I chat with some of the boys about the one subject they are most interested in learning about in English: sex. It's like the common denominator with any male learning a new language. You learn to say hello, your name, how are you, and then all of the naughty stuff you can lay your hands on. I don't hold back--not even with the less pleasant schools--because they are showing an interest in English. Heck, I want to know the naughty stuff in Japanese, so we teach each other, have fun while bonding.

I eat lunch with the second class, and afterward teach them more bad words, and they me. Quid pro quo.

After school, the students all break up into three large groups and try to cheer lead for this weekend's upcoming Sports Day. One group that has a teacher present is very good, but the others who are without a teacher kind of just sit around and waste time. Me, too. I don't blame them. It's 35 Celsius outside. Who can be energetic in that type of heat? Oh, and the humidity! I am dripping with sweat and I'm not even moving!

Back home in my apartment after shopping for ready-made dinners, Ashley (my ex-girlfriend and now quite possibly friend-with-benefits) calls. We chat for 30 minutes before she asks if I would like to come over and try some soup she made. Okay... it's still 35 Celsius out, and it's a 20 minute bicycle ride away, but what the heck. I'll eat her soup.

I figure it's her feeling me out - to see if we should continue having benefits, as we haven't since she went back to her home in Augusta, Georgia, USA a month ago, only arriving back a week ago. She put on quite a few pounds, but still looks sexy, yummy to me. Since she and I had relations, I met another AET named Karen from North Bay, Ontario, Canada who would like me to be her boyfriend. Plus, I keep getting calls from an English chick from Bath named Cathy who I think likes me. Plus I had Kristine from Washington D.C. over whom I really like, but didn't put any moves on because I was sick during her visit. Plus I had some really wild times with two Thai women I met in Bangkok while vacationing with my mother, who then came to Ohtawara-shi to visit me and see Japan. While she left this past weekend to go back to Toronto, my memories of those two Thai women remain, as I dated them separaretly, and then together for the best time I've ever had with members of the opposite sex.

Ashely's soup is actually pretty good. We sit around on her tatami mat (grass mat) floors and just talk. About stuff.

When I leave at 9:30PM, we hug and I give her a peck on the lips. I suppose it's a start... or is it theh beginning of the end?

I'm home by 10PM. I do some laundry, clean out my fridge and vacuum the place. It finally looks spic and span clean again after a couple of months.

I'm in bed by 12:30AM knowing that I happily skipped exercising today because of my dinner with Ashley. I'd trade some push-ups by myself for some push-ups with her any day. Even though nothing like that happened. A guy has to start somewhere.

Somewhere starting a new year,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog is by: The Black Eyed Peas: WOO-HOO! It's either about a new school year about me starting with Ashley again. Or with someone else.  
Today's drawing at the top was done by the art teacher Matsu-sensei. This guy drew a caricature of myself with White-Out! I looks just like me - complete with 5 o'clock shadow at 10AM! He also stamped it with his hanko (Japanese ink signature). I have it glued into my diary on the front inside cover. Thank-you sensei. You know sensei means teacher, right?    
 

Rocket Man

Cripes. It's Sunday, September 1, 1991 - school starts tomorrow. I live in the small city of Ohtawara in Tochigi Prefecture in Japan. I've been here for 13 months, and I have greatly enjoyed my time here in this strange but wonderful country. The only thing that screws me up is the woman situation.

It's true that I came to this country nearly 26-years-old and still more virginal than a Catholic girl's school, but quickly got over that - though I wonder if I could become a born-again virgin, y'know, just for old time's sake. I've already hit double digits, despite having an unsteady relationship with Ashley for 10 months. Every time we were off again, I was on again with some woman who would literally throw herself at me. Crap like that never happened back in Canada. Never... I could have been on fire in my Toronto-area high school cafeteria or university or college, and not one single woman would have even noticed. Sometimes Canada is a really stupid country.

Even now in 2011, how come I never get hit on? Are women that lazy here - sit back and let the men come onto them, shoot them down and choose the one guy who looks super good but knows it? Welcome to Toronto's bar scene.

In Japan, it's a rare event when I don't have some woman try and talk to me at a bar. It's even rarer that I don't have a girlfriend or regular or even semi-regular sexual partner - but that's what is going on in my life here in Ohtawara. As such... I'm moody and agitated.

Up at 10:30AM, my friend Matthew who lives five minutes away comes over to my apartment. We then walk over to his place and get a ride from his girlfriend Takako to the Asian Rural Institute in the north end of town. They are hosting a picnic at Shinoyama Koen (Shinoyama Park). The Institute is a place for farmers from India, China, Pakistan, Indonesia - heck - Asia - to learn Japanese farming techniques so that they can go back home and apply it there.

Ohtawara, despite only having 50,000 people in it, seems to have a plethora of foreigners living in its boundaries. Along with the 12 people at the Institute (I've never seen so many brown people in one area before - I'm actually from white middle-class suburbia in Etobicoke - a city within Metropolitan Toronto and as of 2011 am still pretty much the only visible minority on the block... some 37 years after I first came to the area), there are also a lot of Japanese businesses (technical types) that have a few gaijin (foreigners) working at their plant for short contracts (from Canada and the US mainly). And there's Matthew & myself who live in Ohtawara, a few New Zealand bartenders, and others scattered around... it's no wonder this burg has an Ohtawara International Friendship Association!

And yet... despite the preponderance of foreigners, most of Ohtawara still seems stunned when they see me, as I am still often the first foreigner they have ever seen. I guess I get out a lot. (Matthew, too!).

At the picnic: It's hot out today. Bloody hot. India in August hot. Hovering at around 39 Celsius.As soon as I get there, I go for a beer and relax. It's a good thing I never (ever) get hang-overs, or I'd be a dead man every day in this country!

As I sit by myself, I overhear people from the Institute talking with Business foreigners with some Japanese locals (there are a few in Ohtawara) about me. They talk in Japanese and in English. I can't speak Japanese worth a damn, but it appears as though I understand a heck of a lot more than I should. When the heck did that happen?

These people are gossiping about me with me sitting maybe 15 feet (4.6 meters) away! They are talking about the number of girlfriends I seem to have.

I don't correct them on that, but do state that I currently have no girlfriends, and don't want one.

My friend Naoko.

Naoko, a Japanese lady friend with the Friendship Association, is ever nearby and asks me 'Why?" I tell her it's because people are always spying on me or gossiping about me, and how could I do that to another woman. Naoko quickly runs off and disappears in the crowd. And it seems like there is a crowd of maybe 100 people.

Suddenly the party-goers at the park, part like the Red Sea for Moses, and I see Naoko talking with Shoko, the very pretty, shy and quiet Japanese local who likes me and me her. Shoko is one of the students in my extra-curricular night time English conversation class I teach (and get paid handsomely) for the Friendship Association.

Feeling stupid from the alcohol and the heat, I want to get away from the gossipy gossipers, so I move off and try and hide. But, Matthew, ever-concerned for my mental health, follows me to ensure I am not by myself. Apparently I yelled my responses back to the gossipers.

Then Shoko comes over and quickly asks me out on a date!? God I love this country. I had always been reluctant to go out with her because I was afraif of the language barrier. Shoko was too, or maybe she just always figured I had a girlfriend and didn't want to be part of the revolving sextrade I had going for me in my apartment building.

Cool. Next Friday she and I will go out for drinks over at the 4C, if I am not too tired from my daily routine of working three hours a day team-teaching (with a Japanese teacher of English) at one of my seven junior high schools (chu gakko).

Despite this bit of happiness injected into my bloodstream, I still act and perhaps feel quiet, shy or aloof. I don't mingle much. I guess I'm still upset about people talking about me within earshot expecting that I wouldn't hear or understand them.

Even back in 1990 and 1991, I had always threatened Ashley (and others) by stating: "Never, ever piss off a writer." Twenty years later, I guess I'm proving my point.

After the picnic, Matthew and I head back to my place and watch some Sherlock Holmes episodes I had taped on my bilingual television and VCR (video tape recorder). We then go to some place called the Orient Club to exercise for three hours. I have no idea why Matthew even knows of this place, but he knows a way more about Ohtawara than I do, as he seems to have more of an explorers spirit, and a greater Japanese language ability than I will ever have. I guess that's why he has a Japanese girlfriend, and I only have a first date with a quiet, shy and reserved cutie pie.

The Orient Club has light cycles, treadmills, stair masters and some other stuff. It's a smallish place, but very clean and well run. We go for a swim, a sauna and then an onsen (it's like a hot tub but a bit bigger). I weigh myself when w start. It's 76.45 kilograms (168.45 pounds), and when we are done, I'm down to 75.85 kilograms (167.22 pounds)! My blood pressure seems a little high at 143/80. My body is hurting, but with the weight loss (I'm not fat! Yay!) I feel good.

Matthew and when finished, go over to the fastfood restaurant Mosburger. It's my favourite comfort food, and Matthew seems to know that. Give me convenience or give me death! Of course our supper blows all of our training, but who cares?!

My mom and dad call me at 12:30AM to let me know she arrived home safely in Toronto after mom came out to visit me here in Japan. Despite the lateness of the hours, I don't care - I couldn't sleep anyway... thinking about Karen, Kristine, Ashley, Shoko and my threesome with two hot Thai women a couple of weeks ago. That's why I'm so moody!

For five days in Thailand, I was getting sex four plus times a day for five days. Now I am not. Karen wants to be boyfriend girlfriend (and I just want sex); Ashley offers sex when she wants to as a friend-with-benefits (I also want a relationship); Kristine - I want a relationship, but she lives 500 kilometres away, and I think she's probably too good for me; and Shoko who I assume wants a relationship with me (but I'm unsure what I want with her - sex, yes, but a relationship with a nice Japanese girl would be a step up for me here in Japan - I am concerned about how we are going to communicate with each other when we have a language barrier. A physical relationship is fine, but I do want more.

Hmmm. Karen is offering me that (and my mom likes her; didn't like Ashley; probably would have loved Kristine; and been luke-warm with Shoko due to communication difficulties) but something about Karen is off-putting. Probably my need to have Ashley back as a girlfriend. I am so screwed up in the head still.

Hey Matthew - I don't think there is enough Mosburger in the world to make me feel better.

Somewhere restless,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Elton John: BLAST-OFF!
PS: I don't sleep well again - a recurring event here in Japan... either due to me thinking too much or not enough.

My Back Pages

(L-R: Iso-san; Hanazaki-san (standing), pear farmer and wife, my mother Lynda Hyacinth Joseph

It's been an exciting past two days, as the people of Japan have really taken a shine to my mom, Lynda, as she visits Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan from Toronto.

I've been here 13 months already, so perhaps I am old news to the people of Japan... but then being invited to participate in - not just watch - the Sakuyama Obon Matsuri (Sakuyama Festival of the Dead)... well, it's nice to feel good again. I've been on a major downer lately as my girlfriend or woman troubles have really taken their toll on me. I'm not clinically depressed or anything, but I wonder if anyone I know is? Hmm. I'd ask, but I'm too much of a coward.

Yesterday, the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) took my mother and myself all around the outskirts of Ohtawara to see sites I've not even seen before. I'm unsure if that was because my mother was with me or if it was because I brought a large bottle of good Canadian whiskey for the OBOE superintendent.... I'm sure it was my mom!

It's Thursday, August 19, 1991, and I go into the office again in the morning. My vacation is up, so even though there is no school for me to teach due to summer vacation, I am still expected to be at work at the OBOE. That's fair, of course.

At the OBOE, I try to sort out the upcoming issue of the Tochigi JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme newsletter, The Tatami Times. I'm the editor-in-chief, which means I have to put the content together. Because a lot of new people have just arrived in Japan (and Tochigi-ken) one month ago, I need to make sure that I present them with interesting and useful materials along with the usual mindless comedic crap. The magazine is a mess... as I have no idea what to include or where to put it. I actually have too much material.

I head home at lunch and then pick up my film (or rather my mom's film) from the Iseya department store. When you receive your film back (remember, this was 1991!), the clerks open up the film envelope and show you a photo so that you can assure them that it is your film.

At Iseya, the place is essentially run by pretty young Japanese girls in their early 20s. They took great delight in opening up my mom's entire set of photos and placed them out for me—and the other young girls they called over—to see. I am always an object of great amusement for them. I wonder why I've never asked any of them out? I guess I need to gain greater Japanese language skills.

They ask me all about the places in the film, and who is taking photos of me. They giggle with delight as I try to explain that it is my mom's film and that I do not have a girlfriend right now.

I head home totally bedazzled by all of the female attention and chat with my mom a bit before heading back to the OBOE at 1PM. Hanazaki-san asks me with a pained look on his face of I am busy.

"No."
"Then let's leave."

So we do, dropping my my apartment to pick up my mom. I love surprises!

Iso-san, the gentleman who usually drives us around in his white van, joins us, but this time we are in Hanazaki-san's white Jaguar... what he calls his Toyota Camry. I'm telling you, I got lucky! My office crowd has a wonderful sense of humour... I've heard of other offices for AETs (assistant English teachers) are often rather dour.

Oh... and juts so you know, I had already given Iso-san (and Hanzaki-san) a present earlier, to thank him for looking after me here in Japan. It's nothing great, but it's from the heart.

We first go to the Sakuyama district (in Ohtawara) pear farm I visited last year (photo HERE) and get to load up on free pears and grapes. Okay, I do the loading up, as my mom is leaving for Canada tomorrow. Remember mom - don't tell Canadian customs you visited any farms!

Catacombs with 100's of Buddha statues.

Then we drive out to Yawn, sorry, Yaita-shi (Yaita City) to the Sawa Kannon-ji (fountain spring-goddess temple). It's about 400 years old and is in really great shape. We head down into its catacombs where there are hundreds of Buddha statues! Back topside, my mom and I load up on good luck charms (all of which I lost in my house fire three years ago).

It's raining now. What with Ame Otoko (Rain Man = me) and Ame Oka-san (Rain Mother = my mom), how could it not?

Iso-san then takes my mom over to the kimono school across from the Nozaki-eki (Nozaki train station) that is currently the only JR (Japan Rail) station in Ohtawara. To me, it's actually farther away than the one up at Nishinasuno-machi (Nishinasuno Town) to the northwest of Ohtawara.

My mom tries on a kimono... photos galore via her camera, and just to prove that it's not really a mom-thing, but a camera-thing, it runs out of film. I can see now in 2011 why digital cameras are so awesome.

Kimono school teacher and my mom.

My mom bought a kimono - just not this one... hers was purchased while out west. I'll see if it still fits me and take a photo. Not.

The school has a scale there to weigh bolts of cloth, so I get on and weigh myself, coming in at 77 kilograms (which is just under 170 pounds). All right! I've lost 3 kilograms (~6.5 pounds) since arriving. How the heck did I do that considering all of the booze I've been imbibing?!       

We then head back to the office, as I'm supposed to meet the new English teacher taking over for Nozaki Chu Gakko's (Nozaki Junior High School's) Ishihara Norko-chan (surname first), who was a good friend of mine. She introduces herself as Mrs. Hiyama... so I have no idea what her given name is.

Her English is rusty, but she's really nice and we chat for an hour. Why won't she leave and go back to her school?!

Hanazaki-san then drops us off at my apartment, and by US, I mean myself, my mom and Hiyama-sensei (Hiyama teacher). I guess bevause it was raining, I left my bicycle at the office - and it is now, in fact, pouring like someone should be building an ark and gathering the animals.


I was supposed to have dinner in Nishinasuno tonight with all of the other AETs in our northern section - including Karen, the new girl in Yaita who wants to be my girlfriend. I just want to get laid. I don't want a relationship. Anyhow, since it's my mom's last night here, I stay home and eat a burger and fries dinner.

Naoko and Suzuki Tokunori (the gentleman who allowed me to participate in the Sakuyama Obon Matsuri) come over to make their good-byes to my mom. I think she wishes I would have hooked up with Naoko, as she really took a shine to her.

She shows Naoko some photographs of her trip to western Japan, making sure she sees pictures of a guy she met that she thinks would be perfect for Naoko. Ah... my mom the pimp.

Everyone wants to talk to my mom - including Hiyama-sensei who is still there and joined us for dinner. I have to admit, it was nice to not be--or want to be--the center of attention for once.

Naoko, ever the classy broad, phones for a taxi to come and pick us up tomorrow. Nice.

Somewhere wishing these past three days could have lasted forever,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is originally a Bob Dylan song: This VERSION is sung by Roger McGuinn (The Byrds, whose version of this song I love), Tom Petty (& The Heartbreakers), Neil Young (Buffalo Springfield; Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young - he's Canadian),  Eric Clapton (The Yardbirds; John Mayall & The Bluesbreakers; Cream; Blind Faith; Derek & The Dominoes - his dad was Canadian), Bob Dylan, George Harrison (The Beatles). Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.
PS: The photo up above is indeed one from my mom's camera - I took it. Hard to believe my mom is Indian with that complexion, eh? Plus, she's 52 in this photo. I refrained from posting a photo of her until this moment, her last fun day in Japan... she died two years later of a disease you only hear about on the television show House. It breaks my friggin' heart to look at her photo, let alone write about her. I know she would have laughed her head off reading every single one of my Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife adventures. She missed me getting married, having a fantastic son, and would have been there for me when I needed her the most. It hurts everyday knowing that and living in the house where she died. Crap. I'm tearing up now.

Eat It

After the physically tiring and liver-sapping day of yesterday at the Sakuyama Obon Matsuri (Sakuyama festival of the dead), I figured I owed myself a relaxing day off.

It's Wednesday, August 28, 1991 and I'm here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. My mom, Lynda, has flown in from Toronto to visit me, as I am currently in my 13th month of living, loving, screwing, drinking and simply enjoying myself here in Japan. I arrived here an incompetent virgin and along with hitting double digits and simultaneous double female partners, I have learned how to cook, clean, shop, do laundry and iron. I even was taught by a Home Economics teacher at Ohtawara Chu Gakko (one of the seven junior high schools I teach at) how to sew. I'm only so-so at that, however. Sorry for that crappy joke. I usually do better.

So... even though I am on vacation still, I get up early and drag my mom  into work at the Ohtawara Board of Education (which I have dubbed the OBOE... I have no idea why I only did that back in 2009, and not back in 1990-1993!).

I take the Superintendent a large bottle of Canadian whiskey as a present - to thank him for allowing me the honour of working for him these past 13 months, and for another 11 future months, as well as to thank him for looking after my general well-being. To be honest, he had nothing to do with that, though he may have appointed the two men —Kanemaru-san and Hanazaki-san—that job... but, that's Japan. The boss gets the glory and the booze. Not to worry... I'll take in something for those guys later - when I don't have to embarrass the rest of the office when I don't provide presents for everyone.

I really wish I could... but I'm not a rich man—only in the things that count, and I'm pretty pissed off about that—I can only afford a few presents for those that really looked after me... though, to a person, each one in that office played a major role in my survival this past year.
  
As expected (okay, I didn't really expect it), but the whole OBOE goes ga-ga over my mom!

As a special treat (and thanks for the booze), my mom, Hanazaki-san (who speaks much more English than Kanemaru-san) and I are chauffeured around in the Superintendent's air-conditioned limousine. The Superintendent joins us, as we first visit his family home that actually belongs to his older brother now.

Located in Yuzukami-mura (Yuzukami Village), the place is over 200-years-old, is larger than any home I have ever been in here except a castle, is made of solid spruce wood and looks like it was built last week.

His sister-in-law serves us kuri (cucumber) and nasu (egg plant) salted overnight in a brine. It's fantastic, and I can't believe how much I eat considering neither vegetable is amongst my favourites. It's just that tasty!

We next head over to the Tengu Jinja  (Tengu Shrine)... I have no idea where I am... but Tengu is a large-nosed spirit  who can be better described by seeing rather than me writing about it... click on Tengu above for a lookie-loo. Unfortunately the shrine is closed up for repairs, but we can still see through a window.

We then drive out to the small town of Bato! Great! This is the third place I've never been to today - and guess who doesn't have his camera? Yup. Me.

At Bato, to thank him for his even greater generosity, I buy the Superintendent a lovely piece of Bato pottery - a vase. He was going to buy it himself, but I snatched it from his hands and paid for it myself. He seemed completely shocked, but I think he loved the fact that anyone would dare do something so strange and generous.

I don't know if that's what he was thinking, but the strange grin on his face showed ME that I was probably the first person in this country to ever do something like that to and for a boss. I think he originally thought I was going to buy it for myself and wanted it badly enough to rip it from his hands! Fooled you!

In retaliation, he buys my mother a pair of "His & Hers" coffee cups and saucers. I still have those cups - no photo though, as my wife took the camera with her to the cottage just this morning... me? I have to work!) My mom buys herself a large plate to put into her collection back in Toronto.

Next we head over to Ungonji Komekami (Unganji Temple) in Kurobane-machi (Kurobane Town - where Kanemaru-san happens to live). I have been here before, but nestled up against the Nasu mountain range's Higashi Yama (Eastern Mountain), I finally have perfect picture taking weather. mom as is her fashion in Japan, runs out of film... again.

At around 1PM, we stop off at Naka Gawa (Middle River) for an ayu (Japanese sweetfish) and to see the yana (bamboo ramp used to catch the fish).

They drop us off at home at 2PM, but I head out to go shopping while my mom relaxes a bit. My mom is making a tuna casserole.

She had me invite Matthew and Ashley over for dinner, curious to see why I was hung up on this girl. However, since I have kyudo (Japanese archery) tonight, the dinner is at 5PM.

Today I do go to kyudo with Kanemaru-san (my sensei/tecaher). Ashley who does archery with me decides not to go because she is sleepy. If there is one thing that really bothers me about Ashley, it's her inability to stay awake.

She was quiet during dinner, and acted like she didn't want to be there... but she and Matthew are my two best friends here in Japan, and I really wanted them to meet my mom. Screw Ashley - my ex-girlfriend and perhaps still friend-with-benefits... at least Matthew was the life of the party. I couldn't even look at her during dinner.

At kyudo, I hit one target out of four - alright! It's my first successful hit from the proper distance, and my form is perfect! because of that, they make me sign up for a kyudo tournament on September 8. Aaaaarrrggghhh! I have no idea how to say no, I'm a stinking coward in Japanese!

On the plus side, with my hair in a pony-tail, I feel like Robin Hood... if he had a ponytail and was a real person.

However... during archery, my stomach begins to churn and hurt. Everyone thinks its that Thailand dysentery problem I just got over. Me? I think it's either my mom's cooking or nerves hitting about the tournament.

As such, I need to leave early. Kanemaru-san who drove me there says it's okay to leave, and then sits around talking for a while. All I know is that the gurgling in my stomach is a forerunner to my gut exploding all over a toilet... and I've not seen one at the kyudo club!  Someone's going to be sorry!

When he finally does deign to take me home, I rush up to my apartment and barely make it up to my third-floor apartment. Kanemaru-san follows close behind and waits to see if I am alright.

My mom gives him some take-home tuna casserole. I told you someone was going to be sorry.

Matthew was still there when I got home, though Ashley was long gone. My mom was showing him some of my baby pictures.

I survive.

Somewhere wondering why my mom has my baby pictures with her on a trip to Japan,  
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Weird Al Yankovic. BURP
PS: No offense to Ashley in 2011, but my mom did not like her that much. It's probably because she wasn't as effervescent as Karen - the woman who wants to be my girlfriend, and who started sewing stuff for my apartment with my mom. I think Ashley had her baggage, but it still wasn't as heavy as Karen's. I think Ashley was just more shy, and I really did nothing to nurture her breaking out of that - expect to hope that my new-found brashness would rub off on her. I always figured that since I am the life of the party nowadays, that if she hung out with me she would be part of that party life, too. She may not have cared for that. I thought I did, because I had never been popular before thanks to a killer shyness. Regardless, Ashley preferred her own friends, most all of whom I found bitchy and bossy. She could be with her stand-offish crowd, and I could stand with my non-stand-offish crowd. At this time, I am unsure if I need to be with her or not. Same with Karen. Maybe I need someone new. Maybe I need to just freaking relax. I can't do anything with my mom around anyway... and besides... I haven't heard from Karen in a while... I wonder if she is expecting me to call her.  I don't. 
PPS: Okay... I just listened to the words to this parody song Eat It (イート・イット... this reads: ee-to it-to) (it's a parody of Beat It by Michael Jackson)... it mentions starving children in Japan!; and it mentions tuna casserole! Trust me! I had no idea those words were in this song, as I haven't listened to it in maybe 25 years! I love it when a plan comes together!

Shout At The Devil

Just a quick shout out to all my American friends - Happy Independence Day!

Let's read about another party day in Japan:  

So... It's Sunday, August 25, 1991. My mom has returned to my apartment in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan after spending the past week traveling around the country by herself. That in itself is pretty amazing, as I usually get lost crossing the street. In any country.

I have zero sense of direction.

I'm in my 13th month here, flying over from Toronto as part of the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching Programme) to teach as an assistant English Teacher to seven junior high schools in the city. That's how many there are, and that's how many I teach at - one per week for four days. It's an easy job, and despite some internal belly-aching about things, I really do love my job and love the people and the culture.

Today, I get a peak at some of people and culture.

My mom and I are up early. Suzuki Tokunori (surname first!) comes by to pick us up at 9:30AM. He's a farmer of everything from vegetables to flowers. He's a fine English speaker, tall, strong, intelligent and good-looking with a wicked sense of humour. He's also the leader (at least I think he is) of the Ohtawara International Friendship Association, a group that likes to get together with gaijin (outsiders/foreigners) and make them feel welcome so that each can learn about different cultures.

I may not have fully appreciated it at that time, but I did enough to know that I liked the people in this club.

Suzuki-san takes us over to his farm and house first, where he dresses me up in the appropriate matsuri (festival) garb.

Today is the Sakuyama Obon Matsuri ... it's a Sakuyama district festival of the dead where according to Buddhist traditions, the spirits of those passed are allowed to leave Hell where they reside to come up and hang-out with family for three days. It sounds totally wild - and I wonder how many people really believe that... but then again, this is part of Japanese culture so who the hell am I to even question what they believe - and besides... it's not like it's offensive or someone gets hurt... they have other festivals that do that! More on those later!

I'm wearing a blue hoppi coat with a yellow ribbon and shorts that, for lack of a better term, look like diapers.

God but it's hot outside - 37 Celsius (98.6 Fahrenheit). Hotter than hell, I'd wager.

We walk over to a shrine near Suzuki-san's home. People are praying while a ton of kids are running around screaming at the top of their little lungs. The kids are totally oblivious to the solemnity of the ceremony, though  none of the adults seem to care.

There are no teenagers around and thus, no one knows who the heck I am. Not really, anyway.

My mom, Lynda, talks with Suzuki-san as he takes pictures around the shrine. His kids are hanging around me like flies for some reason... but I'm cool with that, because they are nice kids.

We then walk over to the district chief's home (he's one of eleven). Four men carry around a large portable shrine to his house. Two men dressed as dragons run through the house to chase away the evil spirits. I think that's in case some of the evil dead leave Hell and try to bother the nice spirits and the living.

The chief gives everyone (me, included) a lot of food and beer. It's only 10:30AM.

Thirty minutes later, we're off to the next house. It's more of the same - but it is very cool. I am always taken aback (not surprised though) by the generosity of these people welcoming a pair of strangers like my mom and myself into their home and then plying us with food and booze. I know I'm drunk by 11:15AM. Oh god... only nine more chief houses to go... or are we just hitting everyone's house in the neighbourhood? Why does my liver hurt?

The folks let me carry around a huge banner between a few of the houses. Honour yes - heavy - holy smokes it's heavy. I think we the guys wearing the hoppi coats take turns doing stuff for the matsuri!

Round about the fifth or sixth home, Suzuki-san go and I visit the home of a local ham-radio set. We contact a guy from Moscow - wow - it's just three days after the failed coup attempt! He tells us that things are crazy over there right now with people wondering if there is going to be a civil war.

We head back over to the festivities (after the ham operator gave us more food and booze). The booze, I should mention could be anything from sake (rice wine), beer, or whiskey. I never eat breakfast... but I think I wish I had today.

It's a good thing the dysentery I picked up on vacation a week or two ago seems to not be bothering me at the moment.

By the way... it was only Suzuki-san and myself who visited the ham-radio operator. I have no idea where my mom is, and presume her to be hopelessly lost here in the Sakuyama district (a major farming section of the city) of Ohtawara. Except for Suzuki-san, it doesn't appear as though anyone here speaks any English.... at all.

I'm not knocking the intelligence of farmers - Suzuki-san is proof that they are smart - but it is often true that many Japanese farmers are not exactly highly educated. But even if no one speaks any English, they are smart enough to see a guy large enough to be a small sumo wrestler (a normal-sized gaijin) as a means to help carry around a heavy shrine.

And so I do. But... I do present a bit of a problem for my new friends. I'm about four inches or more taller than everyone else. At least my shoulders are a lot higher... which means that while I can easily carry my load of the shrine, my height will tip it down onto the smaller people.

I learn how to crouch while carrying a heavy load... I am  sure my chiropractor is going to get a visit this week.

We head down with the shrine atop my broad shoulders to another district chief's place. With the shrine, we turn a few circles, sing a song (I don't - I'd love to, but I certainly don't know the words!) and then place the shrine down in his home.

Then it's food and beer time (again!). It hasn't stopped - and I'm so hammered that I'm pretty sure I could lift the shrine up all by myself. Bets are taken and I get to work. Let me tell ya... just because you are drunk, it doesn't mean you are any stronger than usual. I definitely have to see my chiropractor!

Next, I get to play the part of a dragon. Actually, I get to play the rear of the dragon. Figures. To me, this is still the ultimate cool thing, regardless of whether or not I'm a dragon's ass or not. My name Andrew is translated phonetically into the katakana alphabet of An-Doh-Ryu. For my hanko (signature stamp) and meishi (business cards), I use kanji (a Japanese alphabet based on the Chinese pictographs) to make my name mean something in Japanese: An-Doh-Ryu is translated into "Peaceful-Leader-Dragon". Joseph - or in katakana/kanji is Jyo-se-fu means "Help-World-Walk".

I was also born in 1964 - the Year of the Dragon... so if I was to ever get a tattoo, it would be of a Japanese dragon (ryu)... but everyone does that for some reason... even if they don't have as many reasons as myself.  Buggers. It's why I am still tattoo-free.

So... dressed as the rear of the dragon (not the year of the dragon), I run into every single house in the district and shout "Ongiri!" At least that's what they told me to say. I assume it means demons out... but while writing this up 20 years later, my dictionary says the proper way to say 'demons out' is to say: "Oni wa soto". Perhaps these guys were just having fun with me and I was actually shouting for some rice balls (onigiri)!

As I am running through the house yelling for the demons to leave the house, I am expected to toss off my sandals while I continue running around. Fine by me - I have a wicked blister on the top of each foot from sandal's strap!

Oh - there's my mom. She's wandered into the house I am currently in. The men (like men everywhere) are pigs, and are ogling my mom saying she has nice tits (that I did understand in Japanese - having used the term myself on quite a few young ladies here these past 13 months). Everyone is drunk, so whatever.

After the 11th party of food and booze, my mom, Suzuki-san and I slip away to Suzuki-san's home to relax. We get plied with even more food - but this stuff is substantial - onigiri,unagi-no-kabayaki (grilled freshwater eel) on rice and yakitori (grilled chicken chunks on a skewer) ... ahhhh, it helps take some of my buzz off. Not all, mind you, as it was one heck of a noisy day.I love it!

At 8:30PM, we head out to see some of the bon odori (obon dancing). Despite being in Ohtawara, I am told the Sakuyama district does not do the Ohtawara bon odori, but rather chooses to do the more famous Nikko bon odori, complaining that the Ohtawara version is too new at a couple of hundred years versus the 500+ year-old Nikko one. Nikko is a very old city about 45 minutes west of Ohtawara, and is famous for being the birth place of the three wise monkeys (Hear No Evil/See No Evil/Speak No Evil). It sounds funny to me.

As I sit and watch the dancing, little kids find me and begin crawling all over me, grabbing my hands and playing with my long pony-tailed hair. A few little girls grab my hand to make me walk around with them - so I do. Some of the kids started giving me presents and then gave some to my mom, too once they found out who she was.

Whomever said that the Japanese are afraid of or don't like foreigners is an idiot. And not the type I am.

We go home at 11PM with a ride from Suzkui-san's wife, as it appears as though every single man in Sakuyama is smashed drunk! Man, I love this place.

Somewhere hell is blistering hot,
Today's blog title is by Mötley Crüe: SHOUT
PS: In the photo above... I'm the tall brown non-Japanese fellow. See HERE for more photos!
PPS: Oh... and read my other blog! I just added a new entry a day or two ago: FEELTHEHEAT

I'm So Tired

I'm going to combine two days today....  mostly because, well...

It's Wednesday, August 21, 1991 here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. Today, is the first time I've been alone in about a month or more.

I've always been a bit of a loner. Sure I enjoy company, but I also like being able to just be by myself... you know, to just be.

The past 13 months here in Japan have been hectic. I've had a girlfriend or 12 since first arriving, drunk more booze than I had ever done in my first 25-1/2 years, eaten a lot of strange, but wonderful foods, and have had the time of my life. I've had girlfriends, stalkers, uninvited visitors, visitors, strange phone calls, learned how to cook, clean, do laundry and iron.

Of course, today being the first time I've been alone in so long, I'm still sick... I picked up the runs while in Thailand. Never ever have an drink (of Coke) containing ice cubes. Sure... perhaps do so at a good hotel or restaurant, but I had mine up near the Burma border in a small podunk of a village. Mistake.

That was eight days ago. I am still sick, but just not so bad. Perhaps it's because I'm not eating.

I do a load of laundry (the medicine for my mind), do some rough drafts of It's A Wonderful Rife for the Tochigi-ken JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme monthly newsletter I am the editor for (The Tatami Times) - I haven't written in a while, and it makes me feel antsy.

Pretty cool huh? I feel antsy because I haven't written, while a mere three years ago, the thought of being a writer/journalist was the farthest thing from my mind. Japan? I never thought about that until a year and a half a go. Never knew I wanted to work or live or even visit there. Strange old world we live in, eh?

I laze around all day long hoping that Mathew or Ashley will phone. Ashley is my ex, and current friend-with-benefits. She arrived back in Japan yesterday evening (she's jet-lagged, I'm sure) (I wonder if she realizes I stocked her fridge for her so she'd have food and drink when she got back, realizing that she'd be too tired to go out shopping? Probably not.)

Matthew calls at 3PM, and we small talk. Despite being a loner, it's good to hear other people's voices - and Matthew has been a god-send for me. Considering the other people on JET who hate each other and never do anything with each other even though they live in the same town or city, I really lucked in.

I go to sleep for a few hours and ignore Kanemaru-san's frantic ringing of my doorbell at 6PM when he comes to take me to kyudo (Japanese archery) practice. I love Kanemaru-san. He's my boss at the Ohtawara Board of Education, but I really don't like kyudo. I just don't want to disappoint him by quitting.. but at least I have an excuse this evening... I'm sick.

And what is with the Japanese ability to not understand that someone is unavailable.... I mean ringing the doorbell 30 times? It's a 3-bedroom apartment... if I don't get to you after four rings, I'm either not home, having sex or dead! And the telephone... a gaijin (foreigner) will call and hang-up after seven rings or so... a Nihonjin (Japanese person) will let it ring 20 or 30 times. Granted, they are correct - I am home, but maybe I don't want to be bothered. When I do get calls I ignore, it's because I am sick or boinking a woman—two excellent reasons not to answer the door or telephone. I've never been sick of boinking a woman, though with Kristine here the last few days, I was actually to sick to boink.

Man... I had it all planned out! Right to when she left for home, I had Ashley back. Stupid ice cubes.

The dysentery is taking its toll. I feel lighter, but not skinnier. My stomach is puffing out. I could be a poster boy for starving kids.

I sit and watch videos late into the night while feeling sorry for myself.

Twenty years later, I would just say to 1991 Andrew... "You idiot! You're in Japan!  You've had more sex in 13 months than some people have in a lifetime! Plus a three-way! Plus sex with a stalker! Do you know who has sex with a stalker? A man does! Men are idiots. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and enjoy the day! You're in Japan and the opportunity may never come your way again!"

Of course, my yelling at 1991 Andrew doesn't change the fact that he still has some growing up to do.

It's Thursday, August 22, 1991.

I get up and do some of my puzzle of The Tower of Babel... a 5000 piece one that is being more difficult to do than the one I did of the Universe (all black with little white splotches for stars).

I wish someone would call. You'll notice I don't call anyone. Idiot.

Teh pills Kristine gave me a couple of days ago are only partially working. That means they aren't. As such, I threaten myself into going into work and ask to be taken in to a doctor. But I don't. It's not just a Japanese doctor thing. I never like doctors - period.

"Well, Andrew... what seems to be wrong?
"I don't know. Isn't that your job?"

Here with a language barrier, it's worse. Not only do doctors smoke in hospitals - what is this the 1950s? - but every medicine I have ever received from a hospital comes in a waxy envelope the size of a disposable razor blade... do people in 2011 still know what a disposable razor blade is? HERE.

No one calls, and I don't call anyone. It's literally the first time since arriving in Japan that I don't talk to another human being. I did yell at the dog across the street to shut up - I even yelled it in Japanese! - but he ignored me.

And what about Ashley? Is she still jetlagged? Doesn't she want to see me? What about thanking me for the food? It's okay... Y10,000 (Cdn/US $100) of food is no big deal. That was sarcasm. How do you write sarcasm in print? Italics?

Somewhere with too much time on my hands,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Beatles: I told you I could do them for every mood!: NOZZZZZZZ

Welcome to Cool Japan

Forget hot or not, Japan wants you to consider it cool.

I hadn't heard about this initiative, but back in early January 2011, the Japanese government—specifically the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry (aka METI)—has implemented a new business strategy called 'Cool Japan' in an effort to promote the export of some of its culture.

Cultural items to be promoted, include: animation, fashion and food. Some of the initiatives undertaken feature limited-time satellite shops introducing Japanese sake (rice wine) and foods in partnership with local distributors to help stimulate Japanese exports for small and medium-sized manufacturers, as well as arts and crafts persons to reach a Japan goal of ¥13-trillion (U.S./Cdn $160,000,000) in exports by 2020.

Cool Japan will use Japanese products, that it believes the world finds cool, like animation, movies and food products, and use them to drive global business and garner increased tourist traffic in Japan.

METI actually established the Cool Japan strategy back in June of 2010. It will eventually be headed by  a Creative Industry Councilor later this year, which will in turn integrate all departments engaged in the fashion and content business.

A total of ¥1.4 billion (U.S./Cdn $1.4 million) has been allocated for the strategy in 2011 alone, and will be used in 10 selected businesses with selected target country/region.

The 10 selected businesses are:
Asia: 

• Business & Food: Introduce Japanese food and culture and sell goods, alcohol beverages, food and more. 
•  Housing: Sell housing, environmentally-friendly electronics, furniture, et al.

China:

• Fashion & Household Goods: Collaborate with shopping malls targeting the rich folk.
• Content: Leverage Japan & China by co-hosting events such as of movies.

Southeast Asia:

• Japan Regional Traditional Products: Branding of Japan regional traditional goods.
• Fashion, Household Goods: Export Harajuku Brand targeting the young.

India:

• Fashion: Collaborate with local fashion media.

U.S.:

• Food: Establish Japanese food and alcoholic drinks.
• Content: Export content leveraging animation and 3D technologies to Hollywood.

Brazil:

• Content, Consumer Electronics: Proliferate televisions and One Seg mobiles (it's television broadcasting for mobiles) leveraging animation at the timing of FIFA and Olympics.

Where the heck is Canada, the U.K., Australia et al? Obviously, Japan is shooting for the larger populated countries and areas first... and then will attempt to conquer the world later.

The Cool Japan strategy is composed of designers and creators, and small- and mid-sized companies who might have a difficult time starting a venture overseas due to a lack of funds or know-how.

METI wants to take such business owners and match them with overseas business owners to develop an export industry.

The strategy hopes to:
 - Increase Japanese exports. METI estimates worldwide market size of fashion, food and content in 2020 will be ¥932 trillion (U.S./Cdn $932 million), and wants to achieve a market share of 1.4 per cent, equalling ¥13 billion (U.S./Cdn $13 million).
 - Enhance Japan's image abroad. It wants to do what the U.K did under its Cool Britannia ( a nice pun on the old Rule Britannia song) strategy in the 1990s, and South Korea's plan regarding the promoting of its lifestyle through movies and TV dramas to Asian countries, that led to an increase in exports of its consumer electronics and clothing.

While not directly related to the Cool Japan strategy, I have found, for your edification, a website promoting Cool Japan, that takesd the views and opinions of gaijin (foreigners) who are experiencing their first six months or less in Japan, promoting what they find cool about the country. Have a lookie-loo: HERE.

Somewhere chilling - why is the A/C so cold?!,
Andrew Joseph

Restaurant Offers Mystery Cans

I'm pretty sure that in most 1st world countries like Canada and the U.S., UK, Australia and New Zelana, what Japan is doing is illegal.

Not Japan as a whole, but rather one restaurant that is playing Russian roulette featuring tin bullets.

Sabanoyu is a restaurant in Kyodo in the Setagaya district of Tokyo. It is offering up cans of food salvaged from the earthquake and tsunami.

So... life is like a box of chocolates... ya never know what you're gonna get inside - to quote Forest Gump, except this isn't a movie.

Sabanoyu is selling canned foods with the labels washed away - or dented - picked from the debris of the Kinoya Ishinomaki Suisan cannery inIshinomaki, Miyagi-ken (Miyagi Prefecture), which was once a landmark with its10.8-meter water tank painted to look like a giant can of stewed whale.

The cannery was crushed like it was being recycled when the tsunami hit following the 9.0 Magnitude earthquake - now known as the Great East JapanEarthquake - on March 11, 2011.

"The cannery helped us bring life back to this neighborhood, andnow it's our turn to help them," says Suda Yasunari (family name first), a comedy writer,community organizer and owner of Sabanoyu.

The neighborhood's link tothe cannery goes back nearly two years, when Suda enlisted its help inrevitalizing the old shopping street. Like many other traditionalneighborhood centers, Kyodo was turning into a ghost town, as customers were drawn away by the opening of megastores and chain restaurantsalong a trunk road nearby.

To grab the local's attention, Suda created a neighborhood-wide miniature painting contest - on cansprovided by Kinoya Ishinomaki Suisan. Several restaurants got hooked onthe taste, and started offering canned fish in their dishes turning the neighborhood into a stop for curious diners.

"I ate a lot of canned fish when I was young, especially mackerel,because my mother didn't have much money," explains Suda. "It's alwaysbeen my favorite fish, because it's the fish of the masses." The nameof his restaurant, which also serves as a public stage, means "mackerelbathhouse."

The neighborhood was holding its second can painting exhibitionwhen the tsunami hit Ishinomaki. Soon after, Suda collected reliefsupplies from his friends and neighbors and headed with two lighttrucks up to Miyagi-ken. On the return trip he stopped thetrucks at the flooded Kinoya cannery and loaded up with muddied cans.

The cans were scubbed clean by neighbors and feature insuch dishes as 'in-the-can souffle' and 'mackerel hamburger'. However, since the cans are without labels, they can not be legally sold... so instead a Y300 ($3.00) donation gets a can.

(Writer's Note: Personally, I like this donation-thing. When I wanted to by a Shunga (a pornographic ukiyo-e/ woodblock print), I was told that technically, it was illegal to sell them... but if I wanted to trade for it, it would be acceptable. I traded Y30,000 ($300) for one. It's an original from over 150 years ago.)  

At the end of April, 2011, Suda opened Kinoya Cafe, in the trendierShimokitazawa neighborhood nearby.

In the kitchen of Kinoya Cafe, Matsutomo Michihito (surname first), a product developer for Kinoya Ishinomaki Suisan, works after moving in with relatives in Tokyo after the disaster. The cannery company is still inbusiness, says Matsutomo, and is keeping its workers on the payrolluntil the government-assisted leave pay is cut-off at the start of nextyear.
"I'm here trying to develop new products that we can put out from acontracted factory, so that we have something once we run out of our laststock of about 30,000 cans," Matsutomo says.

However, Matsumoto spends most of his time at the Kinoya Cafe trying to identify the contents of the unlabeled cans.

"I can tell what's inside if I can make out the product code, butfor some of these, there's nothing left," says Matsutomo, so they get aquestion mark.

"A lot of people pass by here and are very curious. WhenI explain what I'm doing they'll take home a can or two as a show ofsupport, and I am grateful. But when they come back later and say, 'Oh,it was delicious, do you have more?' It's the best feeling, but I couldalmost cry."

Files compiled by Andrew Joseph
PS: The image of the canned mackerel above... that has nothing to do with the story... I just happened to like the label - and the odd brand name... Geisha.

Johnny Carson Theme Song

With apologies to novelist Charles Dickens... this blog is about Great Expectations. 

It's Tuesday, August 13, 1991. After meeting my mom in Thailand (she flew in from Toronto), and spending a few days there, we are now back in my town! Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan.

Despite the raunchy sexual time I had with a pair of Thai women, it's still good to be back home - and that's what Ohtawara is to me. Home.

My friend John - also from Toronto - has spent the past week here in Japan by himself or hanging out with his friend Barb, who is apparently living in Tokyo. I have no idea who she is or what she does. The brief meeting I had with her left no indelible mark on my life except to think that she's a twit. I think I meant to put an 'a' in there, instead of an "'i".

John is apparently out seeing the country, and he left no food or drink in my place (except for a couple of eggs and tea) before departing.

So the first thing I have to do today is go shopping for food at Iseya. With my mom, Lynda, as she wants to see what a Japanese supermarket looks like. I hate to say, folks... but it looks like any other supermarket in the world. Brightly lit, lot of aisles and food placed in places you'd never expect to find it.

My temper with John is growing to legendary proportions. I guess it's because he's come here with expectations for me. He expects me to be fluent in Japanese; to be able to know where every place is in Japan; how to get to every place in Japan; and even know my way around Tokyo. Remember... this is 1991. No World Wide Web yet. Heck... I've only been down to Tokyo maybe five or six times myself.

He expects me to do this, do that... and I hate it when people expect me to do anything... that's when I rebel.

Before we go out, I do laundry for my mom - which I think blows her mind, as she has never seen me do laundry... as I always expected her to do it for me back before I left home.

Still, despite it being MY place... my mom insists on cooking dinner for us. Old habits, I suppose... but I appreciate a touch of home cooking.

Just as she finishes cooking the meal and we are about to sit down to eat - Here's Johnny at my doorstep.

I am not amused. My mood is rather sharp the rest of the evening.

Great expectations. I hate'em.

Somewhere expecting a headache,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is the theme song to The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson. The show's instrumental theme is a rearrangement of the the Paul Anka song called 'Toot Sweet'.

One Night In Bangkok

It's Wednesday, August 7, 1991 and I'm just outside of Tokyo, Japan at my new friend Rory's apartment.

I'm up at 5:45 in the morning. Who knew there was also a 5:45 in the morning?

I'm out of Rory's place at 6:25AM, and with Rory lending me a hand on a train towards Ueno-eki (Ueno (station) by 7AM. Thanks Rory! And sayonara (good bye)!

Arriving at Ueno by 8AM, I hope a shuttle train towards Tokyo's Narita airport that is actually located in Chiba-ken, arriving at 9:10AM.

I go through the ticket registration and customs by 10AM and board my plane to Thailand at 10:30AM. It's insane.

The plane is delayed by 30 minutes thanks to traffic, so we don't actually leave until 11:30AM. Traffic? Don't they know when planes are coming and going? I've never really understood delays of 30 minutes or longer. Five minutes sure... but planes—especially in Japan—should run with clockwork efficiency like their train system!

The stewardesses on the Thai airline are all freaking gorgeous. They are all Thia, wearing purple, look young, and smell great. They also speak excellent English and treat me like we've just spent a couple of hot sweaty hours together...  which I dream of with each and every one of them. Come one! Doesn't anyone want to initiate me into the Mile High Club? 

Of course, I'm lucky... but just not that lucky.

There's a book on my seat that describes how to count to 100 in Thia and how to say hello (Sawetai) and how to say thank you as a male (Kop koon krap) and as a female (Kop koon kah). I master it all before we actually lift off from Narita airport.

The plane food is just that—plain and blah. I've been on the go for nearly seven hours, and it's not even noon. I am exhausted... probably too tired to join the Mile High Club is asked, but I'm not, so the point is moot.

There's some Steve Martin movie on that lampoons the Los Angeles attitude, but since I miss the title, I have no idea why I even mention it. Tired.

I need to go to the washroom, but I don't have time... and quite frankly, I'm afraid I'm going to do something awful that will hamper any opportunity for a Mile High Club invitation from a stewardess. I didn't see any women passengers on the plane.

I guess Thailand's reputation as a sex industry is well founded, as most of the people on the plane look pretty shady. The rest look quite respectable and after their sex tour—which Thailand does offer—ˆ'm sure the suits will be playing golf.

In fact, as we are landing, I notice a golf course right beside the damn airport runway. It must have some tricky holes, what with the out of control air currents caused by passing jet plane.
Arriving within the Bangkok airport, I look around for my mom, who has flown out from Toronto to meet me here for a few days before we travel back to Ohatawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

I must be the only normal man to have actually traveled to Thailand to hang out with his mother.

I get there.... there's no mom... no promised tour guide... and I don't know which hotel she has booked for us... I'm lost. As I am physically attempting to call my father back in Canada to ask about Mom and the hotel, I happen to glance around and see my mom, Lynda Joseph, standing a mere five feet away.

One year later she still looks the same, and that's cool by me. Hug, hug, kiss, kiss.

Toki, our guide is really cute and very short. She scoots us away in a van, but since it's now rush hour in Bangkok, we sit in traffic for a while. I really should have gone to the washroom on the plane.
It begins to rain, and hard, and floods a few low-lying roads, and it doesn't let up. Apparently, this is the beginning of the rainy season here... or it's because I'm traveling that it has chosen to rain.

We arrive at out awesome looking hotel in one hour and 15 minutes.

After a quick shower et al, we go to dinner. Our waitresses is freaking hot. She is also smiling at me constantly, even more when I explain that the older pretty woman I am with is merely my mother. After that this woman is constantly hovering around me, filling up my beer, touching my shoulders, and rubbing herself up against my back as she leans over to pour food. Her name is Tookta, which means, and I kid you not, 'Baby Doll".

I've never played with dolls before, but it looks like there will be a first time before this trip is over.

I order a chili fish... two things I would normally never eat back in Toronto. I may be of Indian descent, but aside from the colour of my skin, I'm not very Indian. The fish is even hotter than Tookta, as I have beads of sweat popping up on my brow as I eat all of it. In fact... sweat forms on my sweat. It amuses both my mom and Tookta who gently wipes away my sweat with her hand.

If my mother wasn't sure before, she realized then that our waitress really liked me. For reference... I looked like a Thai man... only about four inches taller, much wider... and I'm only talking about what I keep in my underwear. We're both dark in complexion, have dark brown eyes and black hair. But being bigger, it's obvious that I am in high demand here, as I glance around and see a number of waitresses smiling at me. I guess the stewardesses may not have been really Thai.

Besides... all of these Thai waitresses are all maybe 21-23, and seem eager to try out the Canadian cuisine. In my head, Tookta has first dibs.

I did mention that she kept filling me up with beer. It was something called Singha, which essentially is Thai for 'lion dog'.

After dinner (we were only charged for a single beer), we tip Tookta very well, she comes up from behind me puts her right arm around my shoulder, her left hand down on my left hand, grabs the money while kissing me on the left cheek, quietly whispering that she hopes she will see me again.

My mother had already left to go the the ladies room... and she was the one who had paid for our meal (and pretty damn near everything else on this trip!), so Tookta was brave, but brave with some decorum.

After my mom and I head back to the single hotel room with two Queen-sized beds, we chat for awhile about life, the universe and everything, with me kidding her about never sending me anything I needed, to which she replies she won't bother sending me anymore boxes of condoms. Owtch. Asia is going have alot of kids looking like me!

Hey Matthew! You think I snore like a jet plane with asthma? You never heard my mom! Her snoring kept me awake for so long that I got up and went for a walk. How the heck does my dad stand it?

On the plus side... it's about 1AM as I walk near the hotel restaurant and see Tookta walking out. She runs over, smiles and walks with me for a few minutes until we find some privacy.

What's nice, is that I've seen more of Tookta than I have of Thailand. 

God I love internationalization. Oh Canada!

Somewhere I love Thailand and Thailand loves...
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Murray Head: HARDMANHUMBLE