Somebody To Love

I have four classes today - September 26, 1991. I'm assistant English teaching here at Wakakusa Chu Gakko (Wakakusa Junior High School) here in Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan.
I'm still feeling bloody tire... a feeling I haven't been able to shake for maybe three months now.
Last night's squawk with Ashley my current friend-with-benefits and former ex-girlfriend. It didn't hurt, but it sure didn't help me get to sleep because all I could think about was how great it was. Ashley may never achieve my level of whit, but she seems to know how to get me going, just as I do her. It kills me that we aren't a couple anymore.
Some of the girls in the third-year class drop by the teacher's office with a Where's Waldo book. As luck would have it, I actually have a copy of Mad Magazine with me that has a parody of Waldo! They think it's sick but very funny.
Comedy! Ahhhh... it really does break down a language barrier! I think it's how I have managed to not only survive but somehow thrive these past 14 months in Japan.
Back at home, I try to relax. My eyes are dead tired, but I watch a lot of videos from back home in Toronto.
Kevin - that poaching bastard calls me to discuss the events of last Saturday night. That was when I asked Matthew (and his girlfriend Takako) to intervene on my behalf to get him the hell away from the Japanese foxy  woman who was trying (successfully) to pick me up. As soon as he started speaking his fluent Japanese, I had lost. Why would a woman want to struggle with broken English and Japanese when she could talk Japanese?
The obvious answer would because she would have been with me.
I wish it were that simple.
Sometimes I think the Japanese women would just like to score with a gaijin (foreigner)--any gaijin--just to say that they have done it. I think that's why every single guy who goes to Japan (with me being the lone exception) has come here thinking that having a Japanese girlfriend is the first thing they need to do.
I don't know if that's true. I never asked a Japanese woman, as I was always too busy grunting and rutting.
I know that's a contradiction... but I had zero expectations of anything upon arriving here except that I was probably going to die because I had no idea who to shop, cook, clean, launder... anything - plus I had never had sex before... so why have any expectations except more failure?
Also... I had hooked up with Ashley on my second day in Japan - not knowing that she lived in the town next door, or even what her name was until 24 hours later.
Anyhow... why would I want to talk with Kevin. I am so angry, but tell him I am too tired to talk. I wonder if he understands just how pissed off I am? I hope so.
I had spent the first 24 years of my life being picked on and put down. Once I hit college, I changed and vowed that would never happen again. It's why I fight back... or at the very least seek revenge.
Childish? Maybe. But that's me.
My buddy Matthew calls, telling me that Takako is going to move out and live in Utsunomiya-shi (Utsunomiya City), the capital of Tochigi. He says she is moving out tomorrow. Oh.
He's very vague on the details, but I would suppose something happened at home. I don't press him for details despite every fiber of my journalistic being demanding I do so. He's my friend and I know he's hurting - hell, I am too... Takako has been nothing short of a godsend as a friend for me, too. I figure if there is more to all of this Utsunomiya stuff, then Matthew will tell me when he's ready.
Next on the new assistant English teacher Japan Exchange & Teaching (JET) Programme list is yet another woman.
It's Letiticia. I wanted to wait a while before calling her because she is just so god-damned beautiful, sexy and smart and dammit all to hell, every single guy who wasn't just interested in Japanese girls wanted to be with her. Hell... me, too. But this wasn't a girl I could simply dazzle with bullcrap. I had to let her see what Japan was like first.
It had only been two months for her here in Japan. I figured she would have been hit on by every single Japanese male in the prefecture... and she was. Despite many being handsome devils, not one could measure up to the leggy 5'-11" brunette goddess with gorgeous curls down past her shoulder blades.
She had curves in all the right places, had a wicked smile and beautiful brown eyes that made me melt whenever I looked at her face and those gorgeous cheekbones. She was the total package, and every bit the looker.
If I thought I would have a shot before, I would have taken it.
I just figured that time in Japan would help even the odds in my favour. She had already noted that she didn't want to date a Japanese man. Preconceived notion, perhaps. Or perhaps she was just afraid of being in a relationship with a sexist pig. Hello... every single healthy heterosexual guy on the planet looks at a woman as a sex-object. Every single one of them. I was an above average healthy heterosexual guy... but despite being okay-looking, I felt that Letiticia was out of my league. Kind of like Kristine... my one woman I would give anything to have dated - as a real couple.
But here's the thing about Letiticia. Although she had only first arrived here in very late July (28th or something like that)... she had already gone back home to the USA. She had gone for a week, and was back a day ago... which was why I called her this evening.
Tonight she seems a tad giddy - or air-headed... but perhaps it's jet-lag... or maybe I make her nervous... in that good way (he's so handsome and he wants to ask me out) or the bad way (he's creepy and he wants to ask me out).
Like I said... she went home last week... and guess what? She bought ME some comic books because I said I love them... including Donald Duck - my personal favourite because he doesn't wear pants! That made Letiticia laugh and snort for the first time in her life when I mentioned that joke to her a month ago.
I don't know WHY she went home. Homesick. Needed some medical stuff done... whatever. She wasn't offering and I wasn't prying.
There's a theme isn't there?
She says she'll save them for me when I come and visit her. Is she serious? If I start riding my bicycle now, I could be there by 3AM! If I knew where the hell I was going, of course... but I'm pretty sure I could find her if I focus in on the apple blossom smell of her hair.
With Letiticia... I am in 'severe like'. I remember that I got that term from the Humber College hottie Carloyn Chaulk. She was sexy! I hope she has done well in life.
James "Jimmy Jive" Dalton (another JET newbie) calls me up with an update on the travel plans for us. He - after two months -  is already a great friend. He's the only guy on the program funnier than myself - thank god he can't write or this whole blog would be a complete waste of time and energy.
You know it takes an hour to write these blogs on MY life... but up to six when it's something special like the MISS UNIVERSE one or the one on GEISHA or SAMURAI? Word.
James says that no matter what, December 26th is our departure date. Cool! We're either on for Singapore or Thailand. If it's Thailand, I know two lucky ladies who are going to get another opportunity to spend quality time with me... and each other. James is a good-looking guy... he can find two of his own.

Somewhere Waldo is found,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Jefferson Airplane: SLICK... plus here's the original version when Grace Slick was in The Great Society: ORIGINAL. The original is psychedelic... but it's from 1965... and not acid trippy as the later version. The Great Society version is LIVE... and the title is the same as the blog.... however, The Great Society studio version was originally called: Someone To Love.
And that's your history lesson for the day.

Can't Explain

Today is Wednesday, September 25, 1991.
I'm living in Ohtawara City, Tochigi-ken, Japan working (sometimes) as an assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.
My dad calls at exactly 7:10AM just as I asked him to yesterday. Because I have a female student who speaks Spanish, I thought I could get a few lines from my dad to help me look smart and charming.
However, my dad says that rather than just tell me a few phrases, he'll send me a book.
I'd have preferred the quick fix because I'm only at Wakakusa Chu Gakko (Wakakusa Junior High School) until the end of this week and won't be back for a month or more, but still... it's better than nothing.
I have three classes today. As usual, they all involve me reading from the English text book and having the class and then individual students repeat it.
I'm really tired today, but I survive because really, what other option do I have?
At lunch, I play with the mentally challenged kids (I always eat lunch with them when I visit this school... I have to admit, despite their learning disabilities, these kids are so much fun and lively, and are always playing practical jokes on myself and the other kids and teachers... it warms my heart!).
Because they have to do some chore or something, I find some first-year students to play with. It's raining, so all of our activities are indoors.
I then look out for and find the Peruvian girl. She nearly dies laughing after I say that one of the boys is "loco de la cabeza" (in Japanese it's 'Atama no kurutta')", which if I recall my Speedy Gonzales cartoons, it means 'crazy in the head'.
Ahh... it's good to be the king!
After school, I ride over to my back doctor for an adjustment, though I still feel tense when he's finished. Oh well, at least I no longer ned to wear the back brace I had brought with me 14 months ago.
Next, it's over to my kyudo (Japanese archery) club with my ex-girlfriend Ashley (who now better serves me or us as a friend-with-benefits), and one of my Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) supervisors, Kanemaru-san, who is teaching both of us archery. We both suck... or rather I do. Ashley's not so bad at it. She's a lot better than I am and it pisses the hell out of me considering I bragged to the Japanese about my sports dominance back in Canada.
Oh well... if the Japanese are smart (and they are), they simply have to look at the sports dominance of the USA versus Canada and know that the Yankees are a whole lot better than us Canuckleheads. Of course, Ashley isn't a damn Yankee... she's a southerner from Augusta, Georgia.
Having said all that, I hit a bullseye on my first shot.
Then, because form and technique are everything in Japanese society, Kanemaru-san begins to teach me the proper way to hold an arrow in my bow. Damn, but that feels a lot better! My finger no longer hurts!
Of course, I don't hit the target again for the next hour, but at least my form is good.
That's kind of what gets me about Japan. I finally succeed in shooting an arrow and hitting the target dead-on, but because it doesn't conform to the Japanese way, I am deconstructed.
Fortunately, my other supervisor Hanazaki-san, did not attempt to change the way I hold my chopsticks. Round about my first week in Japan - certainly the second day I ever spent at the OBOE office, Hanazaki-san took a pair of pencils and taught me the correct way to hold them as through they were chopsticks.
Now... perhaps because my hands were a little wider or longer, I couldn't grip those pencils the same way as he, and therefore had to create a different grip for myself. I showed it to him - and he said if it works for you, then maybe Japan could learn from Canada.
My test with the chopsticks involved me having to pick up slick, raw shelled beans with them.... if I could do it quickly by picking them up from one bowl and then into another, then my style was golden.
I'm still awaiting my royalty cheque from having taught the world a different chopstick grip. Excluding my pinkie finger and index finger, I use the two middle ones and my thumb to grab food as fast or faster than the Japanese.
Back to the point - kyudo: Because I am tired, my eyes are, too... or maybe it's the other way around.
When we finish, and Kanemaru-san drives Ashley back to my place. She hangs around and watches a couple of Mission Impossible episodes (original series) and one of McGyver.
I figure she's hanging around for a reason, so I sit beside her on my couch and cop a feel. My grip must be good because I feel no pain, though there is the odd moan evoked.
She doesn't seem to mind (or say a word) as I unbutton her blouse and move her bra out of the way... as I time it perfectly for the end of McGyver, because as soon as it's over she jumps me!
We head for the bedroom and without going into details (which I have actually written down here in my diary), we come out gasping for air 90 minutes later marveling at how good that felt.
Not an idiot, despite what I have written under the name of the whole blog, I suggest that maybe we can do it more often.
She smiles, and in her usual understated way simply says, "maybe." No capital 'M' either. Now that's understated.
It's also so friggin' Japanese. The Japanese have a hundred different ways of saying maybe, including the infamous sucking of air through the teeth... which is all done rather than saying 'no" and possibly disappointing someone. Is Ashley turning Japanese?
If not, at least it wasn't a 'no'. But if the endorphins weren't kicking in, perhaps it would have been. Who the hell knows what she is thinking? Probably that we are just friends-with-benefits. But I want more. The king wants more!
I ride my bicycle back to her place. Tell her I enjoyed the evening, and ride home floating on a cloud.
Oh yeah... while I was making the moves on Ashley, Kevin called wanting to talk with me about last Saturday night. That was when he kept trying to poach the Japanese woman I was chatting up - and doing quite well with - until he butted in and started speaking his fluent Japanese drawing her out of our broken English/Japanese chat. Bastard.
I tell Kevin I have my hands full with some things now (and I do, too, thank you Ashley), so he suggests we chat tomorrow. I say okay.
What the hell is there to talk about? Bastard. Just don't ever get in my way again! Stupid gaijin.

Somewhere riding the high,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is sung by: The Who: MINDMINDMIND

Cousin Kevin

Just in case you were following... I presented my Friday blog BEFORE my Thursday one. Whoops! How's that for wanting to get to the nitty gritty?

It's Saturday, September 21, 1991 - I'm covered in sweat and other bodily fluids. It was a good night.
No one ever told me I could get laid in Japan - hell, I would have come to this country sooner.

I love Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

My ex-girlfriend Ashley with whom I am sleep with on a semi-regular basis spent the night at my apartment. Since last night was another marathon session, we sleep in until 11AM, get up, shower together, need another shower, then sort of get dresses and watch television all day long.

It's an ugly day outside that looks like the skies are about to open up - but it hasn't yet.

At 5PM, I ride with Ashley back to her place in Nishinasuno-machi (Town of Nishinasuno) 20-minutes away, and then race back to my place. I've been invited to a 'disco party' tonight. Matthew was invited too... and I no longer recall if Ashley was, but she isn't going. Probably a good thing, as that way people won't think she and I are a couple again. Though that prospect isn't alarming for me, it seems to be for her.

I know all of the other assistant English teachers on Tochigi's JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme  know we were an item, but that we have been so rocky that no one wants us to be together. Apparently Ashley and I are great together in doses not less than 47 minutes but no longer than 24 hours.
Showered and dressed, Narita-san (Mrs. Narita) comes to pick me up as I am on the phone with Catherine. Again. She keeps calling me. I guess she does like me. But dammit, I don't want a girlfriend. I'll take what she's offering, but that's it.

Narita-san drives to a nearby mall, parks andwe get into a coach bus parked there. Narita-san is a very attractive married woman who is in my beginner's night time English class I teach with the Ohtawara International Friendship Association on the side of my regular JET job as a junior high school English teacher. Nowaday's, some might call her a cougar. But, as far as I know, she was loyal and faithful. I think she just liked to party and flirt and have fun.

The bus then drives off towards the north end of Ohtawara stopping off at the Asian Rural Institute. Holy crap. There sure are a lot of gaijin (foreigners) on this bus!

The Institute gang consists of Indian's, Pakistani's, Chinese, Vietnamese and more who have come to this country to learn about Japanese farming techniques - techniques that they can hopefully take home and apply successfully in their native country.

We drive on to a place called "Galaxy", that is shaped like a dome... hmmm, or like a planetarium.

We dance with the Japanese natives and others. There's little food, but the drinks are free!

There's a very cute young lady from my former Thursday night conversation class. What the hell is her name?! She and I dance with each other a lot. She like me, and I want to do things to her. I tell her we'll go dancing in Utsunomiya (Tochigi-ken's capital city) sometime soon, but that we'll have to leave her mother at home. She laughingly agrees, leans in and gives me a kiss on the lips. I tell her we don't have to go dancing. I tell ya... it was like watching a lobster cook. She turned red so fast I thought she was going to die.

I lean close to her ear and ask: "Daijobu desuka (Are you okay?)" She smiles again and stammers out a simple 'Okay".

And then things start to go pissy for me.

Kevin... and American working in Ohtawara through an exchange program with his company comes over and starts talking to her in Japanese. Since that's easier than muddling through English with me, she starts talking with him.

I am fuming!

Fortunately, the music is over, so we go back home. I'm in a bad mood now - having had a woman poached from me... I'm sure as hell not used to that... so I head over to my local watering hole, the 4C.

The 4C is a mere three-minute stagger from my home - two minutes when one is sober and walking to the place. It's not a watering hole per se. It's a very clean and classy bar that seems to have more than its fair share of gaijin customers.

Besides being close to my home, there's also usually a New Zealander bartender or there that works there... so at least I get my drinks made the way I like them. It's usually a beer or a rum and coke, but sometimes it's nice to know you can speak English when you are trying to relax.

Unfortunately, despite the day starting with a bang... this evening has gone downhill and is continuing to go downhill. At the 4C, Kevin, Brian, Matthew and his friend Rob and Matthew's girlfriend Takako are there. Not wanting to hang around and talk near Kevin lest I spit in his drink, I sit at the bar--though I do ask the barkeep if he could maybe spit in his drink for me for 500 yen. He respectfully declines even after I told him what had happened earlier.

So... I see a hot-looking Japanese woman. She seems to know me, and also seems to know I am single at this time. After she greats me with a simple "Konichiwa An-do-ryu sensei (Hello Andrew teacher)" , I join her at a small table for two. I'm speaking broken Japanese and broken English, and she is speaking decent English back. She has her bare left leg pressed up against my right pant leg, and the heat is so high I swear my underwear is melting.

She grabs my hand that is sneaking low on her leg, and places it higher on her bare thigh. And then...

...here comes that blowhard Kevin who again uses his wonderful Japanese language skills to hit on someone I am already well into hitting on.

I excuse myself for a moment and ask Matthew to get him the hell away from me and my date du jour. He glances back over his shoulder and asks Takako to get him to talk with her. She complies without a moment's hesitation.

If I only have one memory of Takako that I could remember, I hope it's that one. I love her for that. Not for her obedience, but rather because she saw me - her friend - could use some help, and she did so without asking any stupid question. Problem. Solution. Problem solved.

Takako actually goes over and grabs Kevin away from the table. I go back to work on the other beautiful young lady in the bar (Takako being the other, of course).

After 10 minutes of me getting my groove back on, Kevin excuses himself from Takako to go to the washroom. Guys... it's always a great idea to keep an eye on the other bastards.

When he comes back, he again starts talking to my girl... in Japanese, again.

He's really pissing me off! And with the amount of alcohol being burned off by my anger, I'm going to beat his ass into submission. The problem is... I'm a JET. I'm also a representative of Canada. I do not wish to do anything in this country that would be embarrassing to my programme or my country. I am only less concerned about myself. Me writing about sex or past relationships in this blog is not embarrassing. Kevin's behaviour, however, was.

So I leave. Don't think me a coward. Being a brown-skinned guy growing up in Toronto, I've been in more fights than I can remember - up until my early 30s. I'll gladly take two to get one in.

Still, all bets are off for the next time I see Kevin.

Somewhere it begins to rain as I walk home,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Who: THATBASTARDKEVIN

Call Me

This is the evening portion of Friday, September 6, 1991 for your not-quite so humble author, Andrew Joseph, an assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange &Teaching) Programme living in Ohtawara City, Tochigi Prefecture, Japan.

For what I did yesterday during the day, read THIS blog.

It's now 5PM, and I leave my Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) office, go home, relax and wait for Shoko to telephone me to tell me when and where to meet for our first date.

Shoko is the very pretty young lady who takes a night school English conversation class I teach for fun and small profit. I have my OBOE's blessing to do so, as they understand profit, and understand that it's good for a gaijin (foreigner) to be out there teaching more and more people how to converse in English. Teaching Shoko English could also be good for one particular gaijin.

Matthew, a fellow partner-in-crime AET living in Ohtawara nearby keeps calling me every 20 minutes or so to see if Shoko has called--but Shoko does not call. Or if she has, I've missed it because my phone lacks call-waiting (not sure if that was invented by 1991) or an answering machine.

Rather than just do nothing, I write a letter to a former student of mine at the night school class and one to my little brother Ben, who has helped keep me sane (such that it is) by taping tons of television shows. (Ben won an Emmy in 1999 for his writing skills on the kids animated program Rolie Polie Olie. HERE's an episode, though not one he wrote.)

When I head out to the mail box to drop off the letters, I fear that Shoko will call. But... she'll call again if she misses me, right?

By 11PM, still no Shoko. Matthew calls again at 12AM and asks if I want to go to our local hangout bar, the 4C. Sure.

Mutual friend Kevin is there. he tells me that Shoko was there earlier and tried to phone me. Figures.

I have six beers, feel bloated and toasty and head home convinced that im my last life I must have been one right royal bastard to have such wonderful luck like this.

Somewhere cursing a whole pantheon of gods,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog is brought to you by Blondie: COLOURME
PS: So... Shoko only did call once. Or she called 20 times and I was either on the phone or out dropping off the mail. I'm the architect of my own demise. I don't have her number... because I didn't want her to feel awkward in case she didn't want a second date and I did. I wonder if there ever will be a first date? Too bad... I had a fresh box of condoms all ready to try out and had washed all my bedroom sheets. I was never a Boy Scout, but there's nothing wrong with being prepared.

Why Does It Always Rain On Me?

Here's another entry from Kevin Blackburn, a CIR Co-ordinator of International Relations) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme who lived in nearby Bato-machi (Town of Bato) in Tochigi-ken (the Province/Prefecture of Tochigi) in Japan.

The following tale by Ken was published in the JET newsletter The Tatami Times back in September 1991.

The Lighter Side

Murphy's Law #431 says: If Kevin hangs his laundry out to dry, it will rain.

At first I was discouraged by this discovery. Now I've applied the scientific method to the problem, and through experimentation have found a foolproof way to change the weather in Bato.

If Bato's gone for too long without rain, I can generally end the drought by hanging out a full load of laundry. A couple of pairs of underwear (my own, mind you!) and a pillowcase guarantee a light sprinkle.

One pair apparently does nothing (although the high school girls walking by stop and giggle).

If I put my futon (Japanese bedding) on the veranda to air out, a thunderstorm is guaranteed, and generally starts when I'm in a meeting I can't sneak out of.

Thanks again, Kevin, for writing about your wonderful rife in Bato.

Obviously this rain thing isn't just Kevin's domain. I, too, am the cause of many a thunderstorm - which is something my father, Odin, likes to tease me about.

However, for me, as the unabashed King of rain... when it pours, I reign... I get all wet and moist  - well, pretty much all of the time, as Tochigi-ken seems to get more than its fair share of bad weather. That may be Kevin's fault for doing so much laundry.

Naw... for me... it only seems to rain when I'm traveling. Traveling to a teacher's conference, vacationing, checking out sights around town ... that sort of stuff.

It really is so bad that both the foreigners and Japanese about Ohtawara-shi (where I live) have taken to calling me Ame otoko. Depending on the Chinese/Japanese kanji symbols used, it either means 'candy man' or 'rain man'. Guess which one I am.

Granted I didn't arrive in Japan and suddenly become all wet. Nope, the transformation began after I was first hit by a car while riding my bicycle in a typhoon. Here's ONE STORY  I did previously. Here's ANOTHER.

Now, some of you might be wondering what the hell a person would be doing riding a bicycle around in a typhoon... well, all I can say is, if you have to ask, you have never lived in a country where hurricanes (typhoons) are a common occurrence. Not having a car, the bicycle is the main form of location for gaijin (foreigner/ outsider) like myself in and about town. Since I had to get to school to teach, I used my bicycle - it's what all of the students were doing, if they can do it, so can I.

Somewhere with my own private weather system,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog is brought to us by me thinking of Travis: PLOP

Born Too Late

Today's blog was originally care of one Kevin Blackburn, a super nice guy I wish I had gotten to know better over my years in Japan. He lived in a tint widdle town called Bato in Tochigi-ken, and was a CIR (Co-ordinator for International Relations). He spoke fluent Japanese, and I think fluent English.
For the August 1991 issue of The Tatami Times, he provides us with a nice slice of life.
The Tatami Times was a monthly newsletter published in English by myself as part of the fringe benefits enjoyed by Tochigi-ken's many dues-paying JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme people.

So... with out much more further ado, here's Kevin's:

The Lighter Side

"KAKKOII!"

In my day, girls said "What a fox!" Later, it became popular to say, "What a hunk!" I'm afraid I've been away from the U.S. too long, and don't know the right phrase for today. Probably something like, "What a bart Simpson!"

But in Noborito, Japan, a few steps from Mukogaokayuen-eki (train station), in front of the pachinko parlour, on June 15, 1991 at 5:17 PM, witnesses can attest that the word was "KAKKOII!" (pronounced ka-ku-wee). 

I've mentioned in this column before (or at least old Andrew has), that foreigners are usually called gaijin--outsider--sometimes in a derogatory manner.

But not last Saturday evening. 

I finally found a young Japanese lady who appreciated my worth, and wasn't afraid to say it in public.

So, to the anonymous seven-year-old who both embarrassed and encouraged me: thanks!

And to you Kevin Blackburn - thank-you for your wonderful rife.

Somewhere wondering if Kevin knows his admirer is now 26-years-old or so,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Poni-Tails: KAKKOII!
PS: Ode to Kevin Blackburn... In the photo above, Kevin Blackburn is on the left, your 'great legs' author Andrew Joseph beside him, Jeff Seaman, Matthew Hall and Tim Mould on the far right are drunk and belting out a karaoke song: according to the tv prompter, it's: Take Me Home, Country Roads, one of approximately six karaoke songs in English available in Japan between 1990-1993... and probably up to whatever year it is now.