No Time

Time to grow up, according to Seiko.

Today, October 3, 1991 is a sports festival day here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. It's  something all of my junior high schools are participating in. As such, since I'm an assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme, there is no need for me to go to school.



Unfortunately, I have to go in to the Ohtawara Board of Education Office (OBOE) instead of having a vacation day.



Anyhow, I could go to the school - in this case Ohtawara Chu Gakko (Ohtawara Junior High School) and watch the events and have lunch there if I want to, but I decide not to. Eight hours watching others play sports kills me just a little bit inside.



Although I'm only 27, I am now nine years removed from playing my last game of soccer. Two years from my last game of baseball, and maybe 13 years from my last judo tournament. It hurts to watch others doing what I feel I should still be doing... if only I had more talent. I have the desire and the attitude for sports... but my dad's sports gene didn't get passed down 100 per cent. Maybe just 50 per cent. As such, I had to work my butt off to be any good at sports, and I did and I was... but effort will only carry one so far.



It's why I coached and am now a teacher. Those that can - do. Those that can't - teach. Those that can't teach - become guidance counselors.



At the OBOE office, I write eight letters to family and friends, and one to Kristine who lives out a mere 500 kilometres away in Shiga-ken. I tell them everything that is going on in my life. Not. Why bore them with how crappy my love life is, or how decent my sex life is. I would trade some of the sex life for a decent love life... but that doesn't seem to be something that is going to happen here. I need to get away from the gaijin women, and start moving forward with the Japanese women (Kristine is half-Japanese, so I'm unsure if I should try or not). It's just as well as I have my first date - a real date with Shoko (a student from my adult English class I teach), I think, with a Japanese woman... with  no expectations for sex.



At lunch I go out and buy a video game, but before that, I meet mister Yashiro-sensei, a teacher formerly with Kaneda Kit Chu Gakko (Kaneda North Junior High School) and now with Nishin Chu Gakko (Nishin Junior High School) in Kuroiso-shi (Kuroiso City) about 10 miles north of Ohtawara.



He is wandering around Ohtawara for some reason - the sports festival, I imagine.



As we begin talking, two of his students - both ah-mazingly cute 14-year-old girls come strolling over and begin asking me questions in English.



Since they ask in English, I have NO problem whatsoever in answering whatever they are going to ask.



It's the standard fare, however: my name, age, country I'm from (these girls live in Kuroiso, and while they may have heard of me, they may never have seen me), girlfriend status, blood type, and... wait for it... "Do you have a big penis?"



Yashiro-sensei and I fall to the ground in shock. When I nod my head in acquiescence, the cuter of the two  reaches up grabs me about the neck and kisses me on the cheek.



Yashiro-sensei and I both agree that she (and her friend) are going to be a lot of trouble for men in four more years. If not sooner.



Back at the OBOE, I write a few more letters and then head home at 5PM. I am sort of excited about my date with Shoko, and I force myself to calm down by trying to ignore all other stimuli by playing my Nintendo video games.



She rings my doorbell at exactly 6:30PM on the dot. The exact agreed upon time. You have to hand it to the Japanese... they are very precise with their time... it's like they invented it or something. Hmm, I do wear a Seiko watch... one that I bought in the Bahamas about eight years ago. (I still am wearing it, in fact, in 2011 - that's photo from today up at the top).



Shoko looks radiant. She's about 5'-8", and maybe 120 lbs. Wavy black hair just past her shoulders, has a large smile, sexy eyes. She's dressy, but not slutty, in keeping with her overall demeanor. In short... she is dressed for a date and not sex. Fine by me.



For some reason, I show her my new video game system, but step on a wire and break it, rendering it inoperable for the moment. She sudden;y remembers that Naoko (mutual friend) is waiting for us at the restaurant. Damn! I was really hoping we were going to have a date alone. Two is company, and three's a crowd!



I guess she figures we need help with our language skills - or she doesn't really want to date me. Crap. I think, crap. Shoko is nice, but is she the one for me, or merely the first one who has shown me any interest in anything other than sex?



Still... dinner is cool. Shoko eats like a bird, while I eat like the pig of a man that I am. We small talk. I teach them the words 'bitch' and 'bastard' and when it's all over, I pick up the check. I did ask them out. Well, actually, I only asked Shoko out. Whatever. It's only money.



The three of us then head fore the 4C bar. I have a beer and a couple of whiskey's! Blah! I hate whiskey. I guess my palette isn't grown up enough.



I chat with Mark, the New Zealand bartender and give him some money to get me a bottle of Southern Comfort. Ashley likes Southern Comfort.



(What the hell am I doing even thinking of her, when I'm sort of on a date with Shoko?) (It's not a date, is it?)



I chat with Naoko and Shoko - and then another friend of Shoko's joins us... Tomiko. She's very, very friendly - in that hi, An-do-ryu-sensei, I want to have sex with you kind of way. She's sukebi (a pervert) - but I have to admit, I find that charming. Or is it highly suggestive?



I flirt back with Tomiko, but damn it all.. I have to be a gentleman and be careful to mind that I am with Shoko!



At 11PM, we head home... or at least back to my apartment, where Naoko has parked her car. Shoko, and Shoko alone walks me back up to my apartment door.



I want to kiss her, but I don't. It didn't feel like a date, It felt like friends going out, and I wasn't alone with her. Friends don't kiss their friends - especially female friends. I don't really believe a man can be friends with a women without him thinking about screwing them.



I'm unsure if that's going to come as a shock to any of my female readers or not. It's just how I feel - and maybe not indicative of the entire male species.



Maybe I'll kiss Shoko the next time... if there is one.



I relieve some of my frustrations on the Nintendo video game system after I spend an hour re-wiring it. I have no idea how to re-wire anything, so I am merely satisfied that it works and that I didn't start a fire.



Somewhere looking to save a video game princess,

Andrew Joseph 

Today's blog title is by Canada's own Guess Who: SUMMERFRIEND

Rocky Raccoon

It's Sunday, September 8, 1991 and Ashley and I are participating in the Yoichi Nasu Kyudo Matsuri in the Sakuyama district of Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan. Kyudo is Japanese archery... a little different from the standard modern bow in that the Japanese bow is about 7-feet tall.

Ashley and I just spent a long night of not being boyfriend/girlfriend to simply being friends-with-benefits. As such, we awake all sticky and sweaty with only two hours of sleep. That's fine for me, but Ashley's the type of girl who seems to need 8-10 hours every night.

Up at 6AM. Blah. Okay... maybe I need more than two hours of sleep. Ashley leaves almost immediately to go home and get some tampons and then would be back to have a shower. Her place has a wooden bath tub that is a large (?) three-foot x three foot square. I sat in it once and wondered why Japan would create something as uncomfortable as this for its people. Okay... maybe 100 years ago, but why is it still in existence in the 20th century?

I have a shower - a nice hot 20th century shower. Finishing, Ashley calls me up and says she has a flat tire on her bicycle. Can I come and pick her up? She's 20 minutes away by bike over in the next town of Nishinasuno.

I race over, and double her back. If I wasn't tired before (and I was), I am completely wiped out now. It's hot out - close to 30 Celsius, and it's only 7:30 AM. It looks like it will rain, however... which doesn't mean it will cool down, but rather become more humid. This is Japan.

Back at my place, my arms and legs feel like they want to fall off. Ashley showers and gets dressed. With no time for breakfast (and trust me, I should have had another shower after that bicycle ride built for two), I double her over to the Ohtawara Kyudo Club.

It begins to drizzle rain.

I look for my arrows, and only find three of four. Where the hell is it? Oh yeah... when I left in a huff two days ago, I forgot to pick-up my arrows and put them away. Number four is embedded in the ground with its feathers all screwed up. Great.

With Sano-sensei (a kyudo instructor) driving us, we leave. We return. I forgot my kyudo glove. We get it and leave again. Wow... we are off to such a great start!

Arriving, it begins to pour like someone should be building an ark and counting the animals. I get dressed in the men's area, and Ashley in the women's. It's not like it's separated by anything other than some imaginary line.

I chat with Ashley in the rain - we look good, but we feel like crap. Tired, hungry and wet. But... it is better to look good than to feel good. I have no idea why I am up tight. It's not like anyone expects us to win this event! But still, I want to do well. I want to show that gaijin (foreigners) and Andrew especially can do Japanese things as well as the Japanese.

Sano-sensei seeing us chatting in the rain, invites us into his van for some sake. Really? That's going to help? It's only 10:30AM.

I have a long shot, and some food. But I'm really nervous now and need to go to the bathroom, but can't because of my costume.

Then someone tells me I have my costume on inside out. Oh crap. Way to make a good impression! Still no time to go to the washroom! I go and change with some help from a friendly woman who is all hands... by that I mean it seems like she is feeling me up. I don't mind because I'm a guy.


Ashley shoots first. She's not bad... comes very close but no hits.

I shoot with some Kurobane Kyudo Club. (Kurobane is the town where my boss and good friend Kanemaru-san lives... I have had four homestays at his place so far, and look forward to many more this upcoming year!) Thank goodness they don't use a 'K' for club like with would have in North America. That's all I need... to be shooting against the KKK.

Stepping up and going through the slow rituals, I drawback the bowstring, slow down my breathing, hold the arrow in perfect form, stare straight ahead at the target and wait until I become one with the arrow. I release.

The crowd gasps!

I hit the target! Holy smokes! I hit the target!

Then I look closer... it just wasn't mine.

Thinking I was aiming at the wrong target, a tournament official comes up and points at my target. At least he didn't bother trying to do it in Japanese, because it might have freaked me out... and you never want to freak out a gaijin... especially one armed with a weapon. Hah! As if. I wouldn't be able to kill anyone I aimed at. I don't tell anyone, but I was aiming at my target... something in my release made my arrow fly off target.

Anyhow... that hit and a miss really throws me. Or perhaps it was the lack of sleep, nerves, alcohol, no food and crappy weather combined with dressing inside out, forgetting my archery glove, using the screwed up arrow first, and having to double Ashley hither and yon. Or... it could be that I am m not very good. I'm not really. I do the one sport where I have to stare at a target... my astigmatism makes things a bit difficult. But, no one knows about that problem.

My second shot sucks, though the third and fourth ones are better. I still don't hit anything, like anyone else's target, but in this tournament the guys I am shooting with - only one person hits a target.

I was really scared and nervous and my hand's wouldn't stop shaking... but at last it's over! And no one took pictures of me! In fact, I have zero photos of me doing kyudo. I do have a kyudo bow, arrow and targets here in 2011, however!

Just think... if that target I hit had actually been mine, I would have gone onto the next round! I think I'm glad I missed. 

Ashley and I change to our regular clothes - jeans and a t-shirt and then go off to buy some souvenirs. I pass out in the back of Sano-sensei's car.

Ashley comes over and wakes me up when it's time to go.

I woman who has watched Ashley and I at the Ohtawara Kyudo Club gives us a ride back. I think she's a friend of Ashley's, but to be honest, I am too tired to care. It's Japan... it's sleepy little Ohtawara... the people are all nice and friendly here! Her English is excellent!

Driving back to the club in her white car, I double Ashley back on my bicycle to her place and was then going to go with her to a bicycle shop in Nishinasuno to get the tire fixed...  because like in every town, village or city, there are literally hundreds of bicycle repair shops in this country. I have no idea how anyone makes any money, but they all seem to survive!

At Ashley's place, we discover that her locked bicycle needs her key... which is back at my apartment in Ohtawara.

I race home, finally have that washroom break I've been dreaming about and head back to Ashley's place. I run into her while riding there... she's carrying her bike!?! Pretty strong! I guess that's why she does all right in our wrestling tickle fights. She too is exhausted, so I have no idea how she is able to carry her bicycle... remember, the lock is through the wheel so it won't roll.

I carry her bike for her the rest of the way to a repair shop.. and then remember I have the key! We are both really tired, I guess. We unlock her bicycle and walk our bicycles there! They fix her up and then ride back to my place. She changes clothes again... and I dig out a pair of shoes she left at my place back in April or May... from when we traveled out west to Beppu... I think she bought these shoes from the Kintetsu department store where I bought some old coins.

We have some Coke, talk and then she has to leave at 5:20PM because she has another enkai (party) to go to at the Girl's High School here in Ohtawara.

Nervous... about something or another... I clean up. Ashley always comes over after an enkai and we get busy... but I expect she is too tired for any tickling or stuff... what with that whole no sleep, drinking and menstruation thing going on.

Naoko comes over at 6PM and stays until 9PM. We talk about the gossip of myself, Shoko, the people of Ohtawara, Ashley... I wonder if Naoko noticed any of Ashley's clothes at my place? Probably. We talk about my life in Japan and proper English for a jacket she is making. She wants it to read Freedom Flight Ship '91. I don't know what to tell her. She tries to explain why, but I don't really get it. I tell her to get rid of the "Ship" part, but she insists she wanted a nautical theme. That explains the hard navy shoulder boards!

The flight part? I'm guessing it's an aircraft carrier. Freedom? Fight for freedom? I tell her the English is fine, but it's still not something us Westerners would add to our jackets... however, it is a popular style here in Japan. In fact, I recall seeing a bomber jacket worn by a Japanese man that had Enola Gay written on the back - oblivious to the fact that the Enola Gay was the B-29 bomber that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima back in 1945, but content in the fact that he had English words on the back of his jacket.

That is how much people love English in Japan. By the same token, in 2011 many non-Japanese have tattoos with incorrect Japanese kanji (words) on themselves. At least the Japanese guy can take off his bomber jacket.

Lisa Arnold, a black woman on the JET program... chubby, but bubbly and pretty with a personality anyone would die for calls... but I am too tired to talk and tell her that I want to go to sleep and that I will call her tomorrow.

Yet... I don't go to sleep. I stay up and do my 5,000-piece jigsaw puzzle and watch the Mission Impossible movie on video tape until 12AM.

Now I am zonked. I jump on my bed and fall off. Can't even hit that target. Figures.

Somewhere off target,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by The Beatles: NANCY. I just like the song... and the Robert Service poem - The Shooting of Dan McGrew - that inspired it.
PS: Yoichi Nasu for whom the kyudo festival is named after, was a local hero in Ohtawara-shi. That's his image at the top on my business card (meishi).

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.

Bohemian Rhapsody

By the way... sorry about the other night (yesterday). The guys building a monster home across the street hit some cables and down went my Internet, television and telephone... for almost 24 hours!

The guys at the cable company were surprised to learn that people in my neighbourhood were without service. They asked me why I didn't call them sooner. I told them I didn't have any telephone service (again). They asked why I didn't use my cell phone. I don't have one, I told them. This stunned the person trying to help me, as apparently I am the only person in Canada without a cellphone. Hey! No one is belling THIS cat, Roger that!
(Bell and Rogers are two of the bigger telecommunications companies in Canada). They then attempted to sell me on a new cell phone and plan - rather than work at resolving the main problem of me not having any services. Idiots.

It's Friday, August 30, 1991.

I have to go into work -- the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) - I do, and spend it putting together some of my prefectural newsletter for the English-speaking teachers in Tochigi-ken (Prefecture of Tochigi).

I leave at 11AM and head back home.

My mom is leaving Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara) to go back to Toronto.

I change clothes and then carry my mom's two suitcases downstairs. The taxi comes at exactly 1PM, per my friend Naoko's orders.

We travel via Shinkansen (bullet train) from Nasushiobara-eki (Nasushiobara train station) down to Ueno-eki (Ueno train station) in Tokyo, and then hop aboard a Skyliner shuttle train to Narita airport in Chiba-ken (Chiba Prefecture).

My mom is talking a lot to me, but I have to admit I am kind of stunned, and I have no idea what she said to me. While the first part of our vacation together worked out great for me (we met in Thailand where I abandoned her in the evenings after sight-seeing together, to go and hook up with a security guard and waitress at our hotel for awesome fun sexual times). The middle part I was moody, but luckily she went off on her own to see Japan herself. When she got back - well, let's just say the last three days were great thanks to the efforts of Ohtawara International Friendship Association, friends Naoko and Tokunori, and the OBOE. Without their help I fear she might have had a crappy time with me. Instead I have memories to last a lifetime--and now after putting it here in this blog, it will last until we get hit by an EMP (electro-magnetic pulse) that could wipe out computers and thus civilization as we know it. EMPs are usually caused by nuclear weapons et al. Let's hope that never happens.

At the airport, we have our last snack together: an apple pie and an espresso for her, and a banana choco-pie and a beer for me. I just love that you can get such a wide mix of stuff at a kiosk in Japan.

Then we say our good-byes. See you next year... maybe. I really do like Japan a lot, and am already thinking of staying a third year. I wish I could even stay longer, but the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme only allows participants to stay a total of three years--if their educational office wants them of course.

I'm not sad or depressed or anything... but rather glad... glad I got to spend some time with her. I didn't realize she would be dead in two years.

I go out and purchase some magazines--one of which I will utilize in a blog tomorrow to explain a few things about Japanese culture and language (I hope).

Heading home via bullet train, it's packed and I have to stand all the way... probably making some Japanese person a little afraid that the big gaijin (foreigner) is looking down her top. I was, but she had no reason to be afraid... I mean, it's nothing I haven't seen before - especially since arriving here in Japan 13 months ago.

Back at the train station, I'm too tired top bother going down to a closer train station and then catching a bus home, so I just take a taxi all the way.

Arriving home at 9:30PM, I fry and egg or two, drink a Coke and watch some videos of Tiny Toons that my brother, Ben, had taped for me. Ben, by the way, won an Emmy award for writing for Roly Poly Ollie, a kids cartoon/computer-generated show that won best children's television program... all of the writers got one. That was maybe 10 years later. I do recall that at home, we had to enlarge all of the doors at the top so he could fit his head through there! I kid. I'm proud of my entire family.

Back in Ohtawara-shi, Matthew - ever the good friend - calls to see if things went well for my mom's departure. I assume so. After chatting for a few minutes, I suddenly hit a wall and get very tired and am actually in bed at 11PM.

Somewhere in my apartment by myself,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Queen: EASYCOMEEASYGO.
PS: It is speculated the song is about lead singer Freddie Mercury personal demons with relationships. I'll just leave it at that and not speculate any further... but I think I just figured out that personal demons with relationships - that's what my ramblings of my past are all about. I'm not gay - not that there's anything wrong with that in my opinion... but really, life is all about relationships. Work, home, whatever. I can't write a cool song like this, so I do this blog. It's not in the same  league, of course, but one does the best one can.
PPS: Lots more to come.

Power To The People

Saturday, August 24, 1991 - second attempt.

I'm still here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. I'm in my 13th month here. I'm a happy go-lucky person but I've been out of sorts lately... women problems... umpteen guests... lots of demands on my time.

Party-party-party. So many parties, man.... my liver hurts.

Dysentery. Blah.

Did I mention women problems?

Whatever. Today I get up early get some medicine for my gut and then head out for a haircut. Ohtawara is a funny little city. You just never know who you are going to meet.

the pharmacists and the barber are both members of the Ohtawara International Friendship Association and speak decent enough English for me to get what medicines I ned and to get a haircut that won't make me look like Moe from the Three Stooges.

Nakamura Muneo (surname first) is my hairdresser. He's my age - 26 - friendly, reserved, charming and witty. His barber shop is large, well-lit... and I swear it had a copy of a Penthouse magazine there to read while I waited my turn. This place is classy! Nakamura's! Visit and tell them Andrew sent you!

Along with getting my hair washed, cut and styled, blow dried, I got a neck, shoulder and scalp massage. I got shaved - as well as nose hairs plucked, ear hairs mowed back, forehead scrapped, and a hot towel on my face. I got lotions on my face, neck, ears and hair and when he woke me up, I felt like a million bucks.

As Muneo-kun (kun is a title given to boys/chan to girls, and allows you to use the first name in a  fashion that doesn't sound overly formal... as the Japanese call their friends by their last name quite often) puts my hair into a pony-tail, we chat more about his trip to America, having just returned a few days a go after visiting Santa Monica, California, Las Vegas, Nevada and the Grand Canyon - I think it's in Arizona.

Again - I feel great! Energized and ready to take on the world. Or at least my mom who is returning after spending a week traveling around Japan by her self. She's visiting me for a few weeks from Toronto.

I guess because I haven't had any free space or time off to myself in months, I felt a tad grumpy. Okay, I could have killed people. Is that still considered grumpy?

I go home, clean up the apartment a bit and await the return of the all-powerful MOM.

She arrives at 8PM, just as the Malaysian Fashion/Beauty Show is about to start. Oh well... can't win'em all.

We chat as she eats the remainder of some killer chili con carne I mad, and raves about all of the wonderful people she met.

Let's look at that last paragraph for a second. She raved about all of the wonderful people she met. People. Not the sights. People.

That is what she and I would always talk about after this. People.

It struck me so hard, that I have little memory of where exactly she visited. I assume it was Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Osaka and Kyoto.

She met a guy who she wants to match up with my friend (only my friend) Naoko. Naoko is a tough as nails, independent woman who is kinder and nicer than almost anyone I know. She doesn't take any bull crap from me - and that's something I have always appreciated.

It's funny... I know about five or six Japanese women who are tough as nails and independent, and not one of them was interested in sleeping with me (no problem there, but I was available should they have changed their tune) but all of them were having a hard time finding a mate. I think they scared off a lot of the Japanese men who wanted someone more domesticated and docile. That's just a guess, of course.

Anyhow... good luck to that poor bugger my mom wants to introduce! Ha!

What I do recall, however, is that my mom remarked at how often it seems to rain in Japan. Ha! I begin calling her Ame Okasan (Rain Mother) as it seems to rain whenever she travels... just like me, the Ame Otoko (Rain Man)!

I crash at 11:30PM (long after my mom has gone to bed)... but still 11:30PM? I'm exhausted! It must be the dysentery more than anything else. has to be. I haven't done anything else.

Somewhere people watching,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog is by: John Lennon: RIGHTON! I know the song is a revolution song, but it's my salute to the people of Japan who showed my mother a good time, even though she didn't speak any Japanese - none! And she never got lost either. I have no idea how she did or does it!
PS: In the photo above, you can see my mom showing off the kimono she bought.
PPS: In the photo to the right, here's my mom and Naoko together... my mom is proof that a strong, independent woman can get by in the world just fine. My dad did alright for himself.

Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except Me & My Monkey

It's not all about the sex. It's just mostly about the sex. This blog is mostly about the part that is not about the part that is mostly about sex. I get it, even if I'm not getting it today.

It's Saturday, August 17, 1991. I'm living in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. My mom has come to visit from Toronto. Karen, who is newly arrived in Japan  (three weeks), wants to be my friend before we embark on sex.

She and I are assistant English teachers on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme. I'm on my second year here. I've also just come off a break-up with my girlfriend Ashley of Augusta, Georgia, and subsequent friends-with-benefits equation. It's sex without the hang-ups of ... well, everything.

I recently returned from Thailand where I was lucky enough to have become the boy toy for two hot-hot-hot Thai women who are 21, work at the hotel I stayed at, and were cool with me dating the other girl. Dating should have been in "quotes". My last night there involved a Thai sandwich, that was both filling and satisfying, but has left me wanting more... and that doesn't seem to be something I can pick-up here in Japan. But... never say die.

And here's Karen who wants to slow thing down so that we can have a relationship before we have sex. She obviously doesn't know who the heck she is dealing with. 

My mom and Karen went to the famed historical city of Nikko together yesterday. Nikko is famous for its "Three Wise Monkeys"... you know the ones: "Hear No Evil; See No Evil; Speak No Evil".

There should be a fourth one: "Touch No Evil, with the monkey grabbing his groin area. Matthew actually got me a statuette of the Four Wise Monkeys... and I'll be damned if I know where it is. Probably got taken out in the house fire a few years back.

Karen rather than going back to her apartment two towns south when the trip was over, came back to my place. She and my mom talked. I think I just touched myself while remembering Thailand.

Anyhow... at 8:30AM, Karen comes bounding into my room and jumps atop me, puts her arms around me, kisses me good morning, waiting until something pops up between us before hopping off. Damn... now more monkey business for me later.

She wants me to get up and fix her some tea and toast. I'm exhausted both physically and mentally. I haven't been alone in weeks and I've had dysentery.

By this time, my mom is up and sees Karen following out of my bedroom, arches an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. I don't even bother trying to correct her mistake, as she already thinks I slept with all of the female staff at our hotel in Thailand, and that I probably got the stewardesses pregnant on our return flight home.

Why tell my mom she's wrong? besides, she knows that even if I was doing what she suspects I am doing, that I would be smart enough to use all of the condoms she sent me.

I am.. but if the past week in Thailand has taught me anything, one can never have enough boxes of condoms.

Because  I seem to have misplaced my bicycle key (to unlock it), I call up my boss, Kanemaru-san, at the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE). He comes over, and I introduce him to everyone. He raises an eye at Karen and then looks at me... like 'what the hell are you doing?!' I shrug my shoulders back at him as if to ask 'What the hell am I doing?!' We then take my bicycle over to one of the 347 bicycle repair shops that are apparently all located on a single laneway called Bicycle Repairshop Street.

I'm making that up, but it's not really that outlandish. I just have no idea what any of the streets are, as there are no street signs denoting it.

We leave my bike there - as they will apparently either create a new key or put a new lock on, and then drop it  off at my place tomorrow. 

Back at my apartment one hour later, Karen and my mom are sewing pillow cases for my sofa. You've got to be kidding me? It's almost the last straw. If it wasn't for Karen's awesome sweater puppets, I would've blown a seal... and then got angry when the seal wouldn't call me the next day.

I hate this! I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to feel obligated to anyone I'm trying to boink.

I head out onto my western balcony for some fresh air, and to read Sherlock Holmes, as Karen, my mom, and now local girl (and only friend) Naoko plot out the details of my mom's trip out to the western part of Japan. Holy crap... my mom is going to see more of Japan than I ever will!

Why am I not going with her? Oh yeah... I'm 'busy' and have no money.

Karen wants to go with my mom (please god, no), but I don't think she realizes just how expensive it really is.

At 4PM, I take a bicycle trip out to Ashley's place to water her plants while she is away in the U.S. No, my bicycle is not yet back, however, I borrowed Ashley's bicycle for Karen to ride a few days ago... lucky... so at least I have something  - a girl's bike - to make the 20-minute trip (by bike) to Nishinasuno-machi (Nishinasuno Town).

Of course, pretty much every single one of my students in seven junior high schools happens to be out that afternoon, and sees me riding a girl's bicycle. Most laugh their head off, while others gasp as they know it's Ashley-sensei (Ashley teacher's) bike - and what happened to her.

The all-seeing Eye of Agamotto, which sees all and knows all, only watches my life. Perhaps it's because Ashley lives in Nishinasuno (northwest of Ohtawara), that people don't seem to know much about her life... or perhaps it's because she doesn't tell everybody everything. Whatever... she told me, so therefore, everyone should already know everything about her!

You know... I warned Ashley many, many, many times to never make a writer angry.  See? I told you not to make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry (or apparently when I'm not angry).

Unlike my friend John who left my fridge empty for me when I came back from Thailand, I restock Ashley's fridge with some bare necessities, as she is returning on Tuesday.

Back home, my mom's reservations for tomorrow's Shinkansen train ride out west, and for her hotels... they are all set. Karen has indeed found the financial waters at tad too deep and has correctly decided to get out.

Naoko drives Karen to the train station so she can go back to Yaita-shi. That leaves just me and my mom... and she's in the bedroom packing for tomorrow. I enjoy the quiet for exactly 30 minutes... that's when John arrives back at my place.

I make him, Naoko and my mom a super hot chili dinner. It makes them all sweat, but at least no one bitches about the heat. I don't eat because I know the food won't stay in me. One, if you'll pardon the pun, solid week of dysentery.

John's trip to Fuji-san was a partial success. He apparently got down to Tokyo without a hitch, but then got on another train that went east instead of west. By the time he discovered the mistake and actually got to Mt. Fuji (I don't believe it actually exists), there were no buses going up to Level 5 (a place where most people actually start the climb so as to not tire themselves out too much when trying to reach the summit. 

So... he either had six-hour hike or the option of a taxi. He took the taxi. I don't blame him... but how much did that cost?! The cab driver gave him a walking stick with all of the levels he would have physically climbed if he hadn't taken a car. The stick, actually contained a few more levels and had a stamp for the peak.

Still, John made it all the way up to Level 8 - and then crashed. He awoke cold and hungry, but did get some really good pictures. That's what he said. I never actually saw the photos... more proof that there is no actual Mt. Fuji. You can read my explanation for this HERE.

Anyhow... everybody loved my chili... especially my mom, who had no idea that I could cook. I can't. This was pretty much the only thing I can make.

after John packed and got ready for his flight back home tomorrow, he and went out for four beers apiece at the 4C bar. We run into another local gaijin (foreigner), Kevin... and both he and John chide me for being too quiet. Hell... I'm sick. And tired.

Am I loud enough for you boys now?

Somewhere touching my monkey,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Beatles: COMEON 
PS: I was actually quite impressed with John for trying to climb this imaginary mountain. He did good.
PPS: The image above is NOT the one Matthew gave me... his was a white plastic and maybe about 4 inches high per monkey. I can still picture it perfectly.

Where No Man Has Gone Before

It's Friday, August 16, 1991... I'm up at 8AM and feeling sick from dysentery--I can't stop going to the toilet! I'm living in the small city of Ohtawara, Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan... and have just started my second year here.

My mom is visiting from Toronto, as is my friend, John. I haven't had much time to myself--and that's something I think I really desire... even if its for a couple of hours alone every night, just to get my thoughts in order so that I can survive another day. I'm not depressed or anything... at least not clinically... I just need space. Star Trek got it right. Space is the final frontier.

I'm here in Japan to seek out a new life (for myself), a new world, and a new civilization. To boldly go (or to be grammatically correct), to go boldly where no gaijin (foreigner/outsider) has gone before. Trouble is... I don't feel like Captain Kirk in charge of my own spaceship. I feel more like that poor sucker in the red suit who knows he's going to die when beamed down onto a new alien planet.

That's what dysentery feels like. Plus my butt hurts from the lousy thin toilet paper here in Japan. I try to buy the two- or three-ply stuff, but it just seems too thin! When will someone invent toilet paper extra thick in the middle so your thumb doesn't break through and get crap all over it?!

Ahhh, but I digress.

I'm too sick to go with my mom, Karen (the girl who would be my girlfriend), Naoko (the girl my mom wants to play matchmaker with having met plenty of eligible bachelors on her sojourns around Japan) and Mr. Suzuki (the president of the Ohtawara International Friendship Association).

John leaves at noon to go and climb Mt. Fuji (Fuji-san). I still think that is a waste of time. I don't believe it exists. I've traveled by it five or six times and have never seen it. I've also climbed nearby Mt. Nasu (Nasu Yama) and used the telescope to supposedly view Mt. Fuji... and every single time there is some sort of weather thing obscuring what the Japanese say is Mt. Fuji. Fog. Clouds. Rain. Snow. Godzilla. It's just never been visible for me.

As John leaves, I get up out of bed  - free at last!!! - and fix myself up. Kanemaru-san (Mr. Kanemaru), my boss at the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) calls and asks me to come to work in the afternoon, as there is some heavy busines they need to discuss with me.

I'm on vacation, but what the heck. It's only a five minute bicycle ride away from where I live at 307 Zuiko Haitsu in downtown Ohtawara. It's the tallest building in the City, and is also supposed to be the most luxurious. I don't know about that, but my apartment certainly is large... three bedrooms, LDK, full bathroom, washer/dryer, and a pair of balconies... one to the west and one to the north. The north is lived in by Mothra-sized spiders that come out as it gets dark. Ick. I hate spiders.

So... at the OBOE, the earth-shattering work they need from me, is to hanko (sign) a single document. That's it. Whatever. I know it couldn't wait, and it's not like I was doing anything important. At least they all know I'm sick, as I have always told everyone exactly how I am.
"Kyo-wa, ogenki desuka? (Today, how are you?)"
"Ma-ma desu (So-so)."

Then the dictionaries come out and everyone determines what's wrong with me. Trust me... in this country where you don't know the language, system or anything, it's best not to keep too many secrets. Not like I can anyway. There is some sort of grave vine network in place in Ohtawara that lets the populace know where I am and with whom; what I am wearing, eating, drinking, purchasing or whatever.

I know this sounds stupid, considering I like being alone sometimes, but it's nice that the whole city seems to have taken a shine to me, and seems to be looking out for my best interests when it's obvious I don't do that for myself, what with being a recently deflowered virgin and current idiot.

At 6PM, my mom arrives back from Nikko... oh, and look who she brought back with her... Karen.

Karen and my mom are best buddies now, and enjoy the camaraderie. Me... I love my mom, but even back in Toronto, I sat alone in my room in the basement and watched Star Trek by myself (see THIS video).

Karen wants to spend the night. Schmoozing with my mom. They chat until 11PM when my mom finally packs it in.

Karen, with her head in my lap wants to know if I expect anything tonight. She says she'd like to be my friend first.

So, who the heck said anything otherwise? I just want sex. Not with my mom in the place, of course. My apartment is big - just not that big!

Karen says that sex can wait until later.

What? I have not said anything about sex... but there are certain expectations. I just nod my head and say okay. I certainly wasn't expecting her this evening, and I wasn't expecting anything tonight. I do have dysentery, afterall.
 
Karen sleeps in the living room on my couch. My mom is in my room on my queen-sized bed, and I'm sleeping in John's room, which is a bloody mess.

Somewhere beyond my rim of the star-light,
Andrew Joseph
Blog title is by Alexander Courage who wrote the theme song to Star Trek: WARPFACTOR.
Here are the original words to the song that were not used - written by show creator Gene Roddenberry. Sorry Gene... it sucks.



Beyond
The rim of the star-light
My love
Is wand'ring in star-flight
I know
He'll find in star-clustered reaches
Love,
Strange love a star woman teaches.
I know
His journey ends never
His star trek
Will go on forever.
But tell him
While he wanders his starry sea
Remember, remember me.

Groovin'

Some of you might be wondering what the temperature is like in Japan. Well... it's a big freaking country (sort of), and stretches quite a ways west to east and also, north to south. So, I'd have to say that its weather (and temperatures) vary greatly.
Where I live in Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara) , Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), the weather is similar to Toronto. Four real seasons - five if I include construction season which lasts all year long. It's hot in the summer in the mid-30C range, with winter's getting chilly. I have to admit that Ohtawara doesn't get as cold as Toronto, usually getting as low as maybe a -10C. Toronto can get a lot colder than that - especially with the wind chill factor. And snow? I remember one day in Ohtawara when we had a bout 30 cm of snow (12-inches). But, it did all melt within about 36 hours. If it did snow, there was never more than a couple of centimetres at most. So... it was survivable.
Now the thing about hot weather in Japan, is that it tends to also be humid. Very humid.

It's Wednesday, June 12, 1991. What a day. It's been a constant 34C all day long. And it's not just the heat - it's the stupidity. I just always wanted to write that joke. The humidity makes my shirt wet almost the same instant I step outside my very hot apartment.
I'm supposed to get an air-conditioner in my apartment today... a gift, if you will, from the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) - but no one has said anything for a few days.
Like usual, I'll just play it by ear and something will happen. That's all one can do in Japan when one doesn't speak the language. Communication is often lost in the translation - but often it's lost because of a lack of communication.
Today's is the first day I haven't worn a tie with my suit. Yes, since arriving in Japan and teaching at the schools, I've worn suits. Some three-pieces, some just two piece. I noticed that all of the male teachers do so, so despite being a gaijin (foreigner), it's always important to try and fit in - even if it means dressing up... and what's wrong with looking good?
So... at Sakuyama Chu Gakko (Sakuyama Junior High School), I forgo the tie. If anyone notices, no one says anything - as it is bloody hot.
I have four classes to teach in a row - and then I get to have lunch. Afterward, I sit in the teacher's office to cool off - and fail miserably - as for some reason, the windows are all shut, and there's no air conditioning.
I have noticed that in the winter, the schools have the windows open, so everyone freezes.
At 5th period (no class), I go outside to get some sun. Yes, I'm already brown, but I don't wind a bit more of an orange glow to my skin.
While I just wanted to do nothing, I find a baseball lying in the grass and start tossing it against the side of the school gym. I'm not just tossing it, though. I'm pitching it as though I'm a real ball player. I've shed my jacket and loosened a few buttons, and I'm really getting some descent velocity on the ball. I notice soon enough that the entire school has stuck its collective head out the window to watch me from their classrooms.
Not wanting to be a further distraction, I walk around a bit and then decide to jog for a mile (1600 metres) around the school's track. The heat is intense and I'm out of shape. But, somehow I make it and finish off in a sprint to the delight of the crowd which continues to watch from the class windows.
After waving to them, I go inside and sweat all over the floor and then consume my weight in water.
Outside, the beautiful blue sky begins to cloud up.
After school, some of the boys ask me to play baseball with them - I pitch two innings of scoreless ball, striking out four before my arm goes dead.
Still, I teach the boys all of the naughty English words I can think off  - and they teach me a few naughty Japanese one's I haven't heard before.
We laugh and have a great time - and folks... this is what being an AET (Assistant English Teacher) is all about. Cross-cultural internationalization.
Back in the early 1990s... the only foreigners these kids had ever seen were on television or the movies. To meet one (me) and realize that that foreigners aren't as different as they thought  - well, that's the whole point of this blog. People are people wherever you go on this big blue marble called Earth.
When I go inside the school after a half-hour of real English teaching, the dark clouds really roll in. A siren blasts a warning that scares the heck out of me.
What?! Are the Americans dropping another bomb?
Seriously - as poor in taste that joke is some 50 years later, it's what went through my mind then.
Kocho-sensei (Principal) Kobayashi tells me that the siren is a warning from the nearby golf course to all the golfers, that an electrical storm is fast approaching.
All of a sudden, the black clouds open up spilling its rain and wind. Lightning flashes everywhere. The building shakes with crashes of thunder.
I've never seen such a powerful storm - and I've already been through a couple of F-5 force hurricanes here.
The area outside the school quickly fills up with water so that it looks like there is a moat around the place. And... upon a closer look, it seems as though ALL of the students are standing outside for some reason.
I have no idea why - cripes, I hope it wasn't because they all stopped to look at me toss a ball or jog!
What a country, though. Windows sealed shut in the heat. Windows wide open in the cold. Standing outside when it's raining. It's like a backwards world some days.
Then, as quickly as it began, it was over and I was driven home with shiny blue skies overhead.
At my apartment, the air-conditioner guys were waiting outside my door - including Naoko's dad (Naoko is a Japanese female friend of mine), whom I had never met before - but like his daughter, he spoke decent enough English and seemed very nice.
It took over two hours to install - and included drilling a hole in the wall through the outside. Kanemaru-san (my boss from the OBOE), and the building superintendent were there, too. And with the four extra people in the place and the just completed thunder storm, it was very hot and muggy in my place.
At 6PM, it began to lightning and thunder and rain very hard again.
I needed a shower after the baseball, jogging and feeling dirty after teaching the boys all the naughty words - but I couldn't very well leave my guests alone.
And, by the time they did leave, I didn't really feel like having one. I just sat under the wall-mounted air-conditioner and bathed in all of its icy glory.
This computer-controlled unit was a wonder. Apparently it's an air-conditioner in the summer, and I can make it pump out lots of heat in the winter.
Ahhhhh. Ashley, forget about me for an instant... but my apartment is now even nicer - you have no idea what you are missing! No more of me dropping sweat onto your forehead (if you know what I mean!).
I stay up until 1AM cleaning up the mess the workers left behind - I insisted that they leave it for ME to clean up - as they had worked hard enough and should head home to their families. No one accepted my offer of a drink or food until they were done and then everyone had water.
It's not an insult. In retrospect (today in 2011), I should NOT have asked them if they wanted anything (like we do in western society), I should have just gone and got it and brought it out for them (like in Japan).
What's really sad is that I only just now - in 2011 - realized that.

Somewhere learning about culture is cool,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by The Young Rascals: DOINGANYTHINGWELIKETODO.
To me, it's about doing what you want to do - and today, I pretty much did. All because I chose not to wear a tie.
PS: There's a link to a neat news story eight hours after this entry hots the air. See you later!

Alice's Restaurant

It's June 5 , 1991 - a Wednesday. Despite not having slept since Saturday night, today was a good day.
The classes at Kaneda Minami Chu Gakko (Kaneda South Junior High School) were long, but easy. Everybody was nice to me. I was even taken home early.
That thing on my face? That's a smile.
My Japanese female friend Naoko comes over at 6PM to drive me to a restaurant owned by two women in my night school English class I teach on Monday's. These women must be in their 70's... I mean, they look old - which isn't much to go on, except that the Japanese really age well. Heck - you should see a photo of me in 2011. I don't look like someone who will be 47 this year. I can pass for 45.
Anyhow.... the ladies are waiting just inside the doorway of their restaurant clad in their best kimono - and they look fantastic. Young... like they are in their 60's!
They have closed the restaurant to the public for the evening - just so they could serve me (and Naoko - who, aside from being a super nice woman who had no interest in me sexually, was a decent enough English/Japanese translator).
The ladies made their son cook for us - and pretty much had him make everything on the menu. Good. I may be tired and cranky, but I'm also very hungry. Especially when the food is free.
Because of who I am (open), I told these three women all about my personal life. I asked them if they thought I should start dating Japanese women - and without a moment's hesitation, all three said "Hai!" (Yes) Gan batte, kudasai (Do your best!). Naoko, ever the smart one, said: "But not me - we are just friends."
I love her for her friendship and honesty.
So... since we're all friends with food benefits, I decided to ask a question.
I wanted to know their feelings or experiences about World War II. To their credit, these old birds did not really shy away from the question, but noted that they did not really know all that much about it.
How can you not know, I asked.
Simple. They are from inaka (the rural country) and relied on the radio (IE propaganda) for or their information - which they quickly realized wasn't all there was to know about the war.
One of the ladies, however, noted that she liked the Americans - she had been a nurse and had looked after some of the downed fliers, saying that they treated her very well.
Apparently I had guessed reasonably well about their ages.
We snap some photos after our meal - with a bit of sake and beer - and I go home promising to do this again.
Ladies... free food - I'm there.
Excellent company? I'll pay my own way.
I go home and watch television until midnight.
Guess what? I still don't fall asleep. I suppose I didn't try hard enough to get drunk.
Trust me... it takes a lot to get me drunk - and I had no intention of driving this restaurant into bankruptcy. I'd rather be sober and awake.


Somewhere paying my own way,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by the great Arlo Guthrie: THISISTHENAMEOFTHEBLOG.
PS: The whiteness of the ladies' face in the photo was not caused by the flash. They both had a pale complexion unlike most Japanese. It's not a criticism - just an observation.
PPS: I have no idea what their names are. That's why this was such a shameful blog entry. But it was a very nice restaurant!
PPPS: Wait eight hours (this time for sure) for a blog with a link you won't want to miss.

Don't Let It Bring You Down

Monday, November 12, 1990.

I’ll admit, I’m no longer sure why I have this day off, or even why Naoko has this day off, or why Ashley suggested Monday for us to travel.

So… if it’s Monday, Ashley and I must be back together again.

We’re going to visit a castle somewhere. I have no idea where, but I’m sure it will be spectacular.

I’m up at 7:30AM, and phone Ashley and tell her she has an hour to get ready and be at my place.

Naoko comes by at 8:30, and I meet her boyfriend named… why do hey say their name so quickly? I have no idea what his name is, but he looks like a nice guy – kind of Clark Kent-ish, good-looking, and is taller than me. Screw the Japanese stereotype of them all being midgets, okay?

He’s driving a tiny white car called a Honda Windy Automatic. All Japanese cars have English names – some make sense, and others… well, Windy.

Ashley and I sit in the backseat. I’m quiet and don’t say much. Naoko even notices. I’m pissed off at Ashley because this morning when she saw me, she didn’t want to kiss me ‘hello’. Why, I ask her. I just don’t want to. She’s so stupid she’s probably wondering why I’m grouchy. Well, it’s her fault. (Years later, I see my role in all of this).

The ride is long. Apparently, we’re heading to a northern prefecture (province) called Fukushima to visit Tsuruga-jo (Tsuraga castle). The scenery is beautiful outside, and I wonder what the hell I am doing here – in Japan and in this car. The trees were all magnificent in their regal multi-coloured splendour. Some pine trees had even turned orange?! That can’t be good. Probably some sort of beetle infestation. The rivers cutting through the valleys of hues were beautiful, but we didn’t slow down or stop for a better look.

Keeping with the beautiful motif, the weather was also beautiful – an odd occurrence considering it always rains when I travel… maybe my mood is full of rain clouds today.

Cutting through the mountains, the car windows began to fog up as a testament to the chill around us. But, as we finally arrived at Tsuruga-jo, I’m relieved to find that my penchent for bringing the rain hasn’t left me—the sky became overcast, and with every footstep away from the dry interior of the Windy, the clouds overhead threatened to open up and spill its icy cold contents… wait for it…. Wait for it… ahhhh, a nice cold rain with winds wafting down from the north at about a thousand miles an hour.

Armed with umbrellas—the Japanese are generally pretty good at having an umbrella handy in the car, and Naoko and her boyfriend are no exception. So we begin to moodily take in the sights.

The castle is five-stories high, with two mini moats placed around it. Externally, it’s painted a nice bright white, but inside it lacked decoration. Naoko told me it was originally used as a ware castle, meaning it was more practical in design than pretty as a palace. I found the interior to be a lot like Osaka-jo (something I haven’t shared yet with you – but three weeks prior to all this I travelled to Osaka by myself to visit some friend of a friend back in Toronto and then slept with her. For those keeping track… that’s two – not that I’d ever stoop to keeping track). This castle’s interior was a museum. I walked up the five flights of stairs to look out the top, and unlike Osaka-jo where I saw a city surrounding me, here there was a more serene park. It was okay… I guess I was spoiled after seeing the view of the past immersed with the present in Osaka.

Again, the four of us head to Mosburger for lunch. I swear I should by stock in this company so I can get a discount.

Later, we visit a samurai army camp beside the castle. This is cool. The life-sized mannequins are all done up (covered) in flowers called kiku (chrysanthemums).

We leave at 3:30PM in an effort to beat the traffic, but of course, we hit the rush hour. If I was homesick, this appeased me. We didn’t get home until 7PM, which left me enough time to race to Iseya to drop off my film and go grocery shopping. By that, I mean I got dropped off at my place with Ashley who rides home.

I play with my GameBoy at home, talk to Matthew and invite him over for dinner the next night. I clean up and am in bed by 10:30, mentally and emotionally exhausted.

Oh… today the new Japanese emperor was enthroned. Some bombs went off, but it seemed like a pretty low-key event to me.

If you'd like to see some more photos... click HERE. 

Somewhere grouching,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is brought to you by Neil Young.

Don’t Stand So Close To Me

Saturday, November 10, 1990

I’m up at 7AM. Good thing, too because that dog was up at 7:05AM.

If you dream it, it will be done. I start doing a lot of laundry and again clean up the apartment.

I forgo the bicycle and walk out to Iseya and give in some photos for copying and buy a Nintendo Gameboy along with a Super Marioland cartridge and battery pack before heading over top the nearby petshop beside the police station where everybody knows my name—gaijin sensei—as they come out to bow and say konichiwa (hello/good afternoon). I buy three new goldfish and some real aquarium plants to keep my festival-won goldfish company.

Did you know that the sidewalk blocks in Ohtawara are about 18-inches wide and two feet-long and are used to cover up the sewer system? While it was a little ripe in August, it wasn’t as bad as I’ve smelled it here in Toronto sometimes. As well, there is no curb separating the sidewalk from the road.

I walk home, do some ironing and get a phone call from Kaoru who asks if I want to go to a concert with her tonight. At first I say “no”, but relent after she says she and her father will pick me up at 6PM. The word “father” rings a bell, as I finally realize who it is I am talking too. Kaoru Kurita is the daughter of Kurita-san, one of the local politicians. She’s also 16 years-old, incredibly beautiful and sexy, and once played “footsie” with me at a local Ohtawara International Friendship Association shindig. For further reference, she’s the little sister of the beautiful and sexy Takako who – SPOILER ALERT – is married to the beautiful and sexy Matthew Hall. Trust me… Matthew would be angry if I DIDN’T write that.

After that scintillating phone call, I walk back to Iseya and pick up my copied photos. For Ashley’s upcoming birthday next month, I’m going to make a fummeti of Ashley and Hobbes, with me as Hobbes. Basically, it involves using cartoon word balloons with photographic images.

I get home and do more ironing and get ready for my date. When she arrives to pick me up, you’ll forgive me for this, I hope, but she looks stunning. She’s wearing black silk socks that come up to her knees, brown cord shorts and if she hasn’t just shaved her legs, then I have no idea how to explain the sheen. How special. Yum. Cripes. She’s 16 and I’m 26. No.

Her father drives us 20 minutes north to the town of Kuroiso… and then leaves??!! Are you kidding me? Geez. He must really trust Kaoru and myself. Bless him.

As we walk into the cultural center, we run into the Nozaki Junior High School music teacher who announces in perfect English (where did that come from?) that my girlfriend is here. Aww crap. I forgot about that. This should be good.

We go in and sit down and watch the amateur singers perform. The singing is good, but the section on “Americana” used the term ‘darkies’ a tad too much for my liking… still, that was the way Stephen Foster wrote his pieces, so I can’t in all good faith be upset about the Japanese singing it.

At the intermission, a lady walks up to me (and Kaoru) and asks me why I didn’t want to go with her, but I show up here with this girl. I’m too flabbergasted to say anything.

Next, Kathy Samuela who’s an AET (Assistant English Teacher) from a town a lot further south than Ohtawara, and isn’t part of our northern collection comes up and jokes with Kaoru about how she has to watch out for me. Poor Kaoru. Poor Andrew. Screw with me if you must, but don’t embarrass this poor girl.

Ashley then saunters over and gives me the same question as that lady—whomever the heck that is—except she’s really ticked! I don’t say anything. What the heck am I supposed to say? I don’t recall Ashley asking me to join her for this. She probably doesn’t know who my “date” is. They should all be jealous.

With the intermission over, Kaoru and I head back to our seats. She tells me she heard everyone say that Ashley is my girlfriend. She says that Ashley always says she doesn’t have a boyfriend.

Ashley, along with teaching at the Ohtawara Senior Boys High School, also teaches at the girl’s high school. I have volunteered to teach there on more than one occasion, but the OBOE has wisely smacked me on the back of the head and sucked air through their collective teeth, which is what they do when they don’t want to be impolite and say “No, you idiot!”

Kaoru looks downcast—even her perky breasts don’t seem as perky (Folks… I wrote this 20 years ago, okay?). I’m fuming about being accused of lying—especially when I didn’t lie.

After the show (I barely notice the music in the second half, except that there wasn’t a trumpet or a clarinet involved, but there was a breathy, nasally oboe, which spoiled things), I was still mad—mad for myself, but really mad on behalf of Kaoru.

I stomped over to that lady and was about to explain things to her when Ashley interrupted to say she had already explained it all to her. No apologies. From anyone. Am I the only man here at this concert?

Here’s the backstory:
Last Saturday, this 50-ish lady—whom I don’t know—asked me if I wanted to go with her to this music event. I said “No” because I was going to be visiting a castle with Naoko and Ashley that day, and couldn’t guarantee I’d be back on time. Apparently this lady calls up Ashley to ask if she wanted to go to this music event. Ashley says “Yes” but forgot she was going with Naoko and myself to see the castle.

Once Ashley realized her mistake, she made Naoko and I change our travel plans to this upcoming Monday so that she could go to this concert. Great. She now gets to go to a concert that I turned down because I was responsible enough to remember a prior commitment. It makes me look bad. Plus, this lady took Ashley to a festival in another town before coming to the concert, which I missed out on. I stayed home and got to do ironing.

It’s only by luck that Kaoru was nice enough to ask me to join her this evening, and now, everyone else is being stupid about it. And people wonder why I have a bad temper! Do people actually wonder about that?

I apologize to Kaoru for the way the evening has gone. Good person that she is, she brushes it aside. I can’t, however. This treatment of Kaoru and myself is eating me up inside, and I don’t know how to let it out.

I’m sure people are talking to me as we leave, but I don’t hear them. The blood is pulsing loudly in my skull. I’m really pissed off. Reads like it too, don’t it?!

The car ride home is interesting, as Kaoru sits in the back seat with me pressed up as close as she dares and occasionally touches me on my chest in those “you’re kidding me” gestures, and peppers me with questions of my girlfriend. While I answer as politely as I can, I feel like I don’t want one anymore.

I’m home by 9:30PM and asleep an hour later, emotionally drained.

Somewhere wishing I was 17 – but, no… I was a complete nerd then,
Andrew Joseph