Rainy Day Women # 12 & 35

It's Sunday, July 7, 1991.
I'm both mentally and physically drained - so of course the phone rings at 8AM to wake me up. Now, normally I wouldn't jump out of bed to get the phone, but this call had a funny long-distance ring to it, so I figure if someone is cool enough to call me long-distance, I'm cool enough to pick up the phone.
It's my friend Rob from Toronto. I really haven't seen Rob for 11 months since arriving here in Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), in Japan. He has a new phone number and new news and we chat for an hour. It feels pretty good to talk with him but—and I don't know about you–but when I get up in the morning, I have to go to the bathroom to empty out various orifices. Finally, I can't take it any longer and have to cut short our talk. But - I feel good now.
I go out and get my hair cut at Nakamura... in Ohtawara, we have a barber who speaks English and likes foreigners. I'm not saying there are people who hate foreigners, but it's always nice to go where you feel comfortable.
 Read THIS blog for a short example of what the haircut experience was like for myself and Matthew.

Afterward, I go shopping for food, do laundry (I'm always doing laundry ne (eh)?
At 2PM I'm ready for Suzuki Tokunori's party--he's another funny Japanese man - and he's a farmer to boot. Hmm... perhaps all of the really funny guys in Japan have the surname of 'Suzuki'?
Because we're foreigners, Matthew and I are not charged - but all of the Japanese people are... I guess this enkai (party) is part of the Ohtawara International Friendship Association - and you can't charge your international friends.
Shoko—the girl from a night school English class I teach for extra-curricular kicks (and money) is there. I really like her and I think she likes me, but there's still a language barrier and I wish I could go over and say hello.
Because of that—and because my ex-girlfriend Ashley is there—I get drunk on a lot of beer, but I do eat well to try and temper it.
I play some card games with the kids who are there. They always seem to appreciate some attention from the adults (even if it's a gaijin-foreigner... or perhaps more so when it's a giajin).
Except for a brief "Hi", I don't speak to Ashley.
I usually feel lonely at parties surrounded by people who know each other. For some reason, my outgoing personality reverts to the old shy Andrew whenever there are a lot of people around. I even walked away from the party to look at the flowers Suzuki-san grows just to get away from everyone.
But, here in Japan, I can never be truly alone as people always like to wander over to see what I'm up to - what great practical joke I'm thinking of next. The whole 'funny guy' stuff I do–that's all spur of the moment, however.
Matthew is talking with Shoko. I wish I could.
As we're leaving the party, Matthew tells me he was telling Shoko all about me. She likes me! She was worried about my break-up with Ashley, as in Japanese 'tradition' when you break-up, you never talk to that person again. That's seems harsh. But because of that difference in North American/Japanese culture, she thought I was still going out with Ashley.
Matthew corrected Shoko. What a guy!
Matthew's girlfriend Takako drives me out from the party back home and then waits while I pick up some clothes before driving me out to Nasu Shiobara-eki (eki = train station) where I meet Mona, a high-school assistant English teacher - and the girlfriend of Tim Mould, another buddy.
I like Takako for a number of reasons. She didn't have to drive me anywhere, but she did. That train station wasn't even necessarily close by—maybe eight kilometres away—but she did. She offered, and I accepted. Matthew did alright by her and she by him.
At the train station, Mona and I hop aboard a train and head to her place--which I have forgotten where it is exactly.
As we get off the train, it begins to rain.
Ame otoko (Rain man).
She and I are going to head down to the Immigration Office tomorrow to pick up our papers (we had previously gone down to file that paperwork a week or two ago when I made out with one of her friends at a night club in Tokyo).
Mona Maas is about 5-10, long dark brown hair and is very well-proportioned with twinkling eyes that radiate a wonderful sense of humor and very high intelligence.
She's too smart to sleep with me, I guess... even though I have always only wanted a woman who was as smart or smarter than me. And, truthfully, that's all I have ever slept with or dated.
Needless to say, I sleep in the loft of Mona's place listening to the rain clatter against the roof.

Somewhere just sleeping on top of a woman,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is crooned by Bob Dylan: STONED. By the way... I do a great Dylan impression... because I can't sing extremely well, I can do the Dylan whine. He's still a fine musician. Obvious to me, the 'stoned' aspect in this song is another way of saying that four letter word for intercourse. Starts with an F and ends with a K, and has the letters U and C in the middle. And that is how you swear without swearing in this blog.
PS: It's strange that I don't swear in this blog considering I have a mouth on me that would make a Catholic school girl blush while trying to pick-up a sailor.     

Free Bird

I'm at Wakakusa Chu Gakko (Wakausa Junior High School) today, Wednesday June 26, 1991. I have another four English classes to team teach - and it's tiring, but at least it beats being back in Toronto having to find honest work during the recession.
Here in Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara) in Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), this school is the only junior high school that has separate classes for the mentally-challenged kids. I eat lunch with them every day - it's fun.
Today I played the piano for them - Bumble Bee Boogie - in their class room.
I notice that some of the kids are playing a joke on their teacher - but I shut up and let them go about their business - because what the heck! I love a good joke, too.
Because Japanese kids serve lunch to their fellow students and teacher in their class - the same holds true here. They pile a lot of cheese onto the plate of one bot who absolutely hates cheese! The look on his face is priceless! As well, they add about 10 chopsticks - of different size - to the plate of their teacher! Riot!
I play with the kids for a bit after eating - and then it's the typical clean-up time when all of the kids clean their class room and hallways before heading out to play.
Because the teacher's have a meeting, I'm taken home early - as the meeting is all in Japanese - and despite being called a teacher, I sure as heck am not one. For one thing, I'm better paid than a veteran 20-year-teacher. Truth. Sad but true, folks. I believe one such teacher - Mr. Inoue over at Ohtawara Chu Gakko (Ohtawara Junior High School) once confided his salary to me... it was the equivalent of $26,000 a year. I made $36,000 a year as an assistant English teacher (AET) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.
Back home, I ride out to my back doctor and feel quite good afterward. Back home I eat dinner and go to kyudo (Japanese archery). I haven't played much since being hit by two cars in separate incidents last autumn. Part of it has been a reluctance to participate because I'm not as good as I think I should be - even as a beginner, but also because I did bugger up my shoulder.
Kanemaru-san (Mr. Kanemaru), who is one of my bosses at the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) is the one who got me involved in this sport - and I feel as though I have not only let myself down, but him as well.
Tonight, however, I shoot well . I don't know if this was a bad thing, but I placed the arrow's feather through my lips to smooth them down. I have no idea if it helped or not, bit I did shoot better. Maybe that's my good luck thing. Still, despite the good shooting, I tire easily.
Kanemaru-san has been instructing me on form... and while I do have some strength back, the whole bow and arrow thing scares the heck out of me. He tells me that my form is pretty good - and that's half the battle in kyudo.

While I figure I tire easily due to a lack of practice in using certain muscles, the Ohtawara Kyudo Club feels that I should be using a bow that requires less brute strength to pull it.
The ego in me likes having the heaviest bow in the club, but the reality of the situation is that despite being the big, bad gaijin (foreigner), I'm not as strong as I thought I was. I defer to their wishes.
They then try to give me a two-finger archery glove - but I prefer my three-finger glove as it seems to help me keep my face out of the way when I draw the string back.
I shoot well all evening, and remember all of the form techniques one must master to shoot properly.
As such, before I leave for the evening, I tell them I want to shoot at a real target (60 feet away?) in two weeks, rather than the practice one that sits eight feet in front of me. Kanemaru-san says "okay". His English is getting better, as he an I didn't have to use the Japanese to English dictionary all that much today.
I'm psyched at my progress today.
Tim Mould calls me up. He's the Kuroiso-shi (Kuroiso City) Boys High School AET. He asks me to write a letter to the new AET who will be coming to his city to teach junior high in August. What the heck? I like to write. And I seem to know what I'm doing as an AET.
I try to call Susan St. Cyr regarding the last weekend at Disneyland and about life, but she's not home. I call Mary Mueller up - she was the leader of the Tochigi-ken JET AETs - and though she is with a guy named Peter, I still have a major crush on her. I could listen to her talk for hours and hours, and thanks to her ability to carry a conversation, I frequently do listen to her talk for hours and hours.
Oh yeah... before kyudo, I went to the Iseya grocery/department store near my home and ran into some students from Ohtawara Chu Gakko. They followed me from one store to another (Mimasuya) and then back to my apartment. They followed me up the elevator and to my apartment door and then came into visist for a while.
It ticked me off - because despite me telling you readers everythging about my life, I still enjoy my privacy. So I called my other OBOE boss, Mr. Hanazaki.
He immediately called the principal of Ohtawara Chu Gakko, and then called me back to say that it won't ever happen again.

Somewhere again starting to feel like I belong in Japan,
Andrew Joseph 
Today's blog title is by Lynyrd Skynyrd - because I feel uncaged today - plus I'm licking bird feathers on arrows. ICAN'TCHANGE

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

You might be wondering when things are going to get a bit exciting. Well... it's not today. Sorry.
I'm going to combine two day's into this one blog - but get ready... things will start to get a bit heated, as I plan, plot, play and plumb the depths to get what I want - which is laid again.
For those of you who are new to the site, it's currently June 14, 1991. I'm an assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme living in Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture) here in Japan. I teach at seven junior high schools - one per week - for four days, and spend a fifth day in the offices of the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) writing up a report that takes me 10 minutes to do and then spend a few hours writing short stories and letters to family and friends back home in Toronto. The rest of the time is spent figuring out how I'm going to get laid - or occasionally studying Japanese or going on mini excursions with my friends at the OBOE. Sometimes after work, we have parties (IE booze fests, where the Japanese constantly test the upper limits of a gaijin's (foreigner's) alcoholic intake - which I have yet to peak at. And that is a scary thought.
I've certainly been laid since arriving in Japan. Not prior to it, unfortunately.
I'm currently 26 years old and have been in Japan for nearly a year. I met my girlfriend Ashley of Augusta, Georgia, USA, on my third night in Japan in Tokyo. I met Kristine - a Japanese-American babe on the second night - and while we have not slept together as of this writing (1991), she is never far from my thoughts.
Ashley took my virginity - and while I lasted a good 45 minutes (I timed myself!), my seeming expertise made her think I was lying about being a virgin. What guy would ever lie about something like that??!! I can talk about it to you all now because well, quite frankly I'm doing alright. I've only had four women, but the future is the future - I can always get more. I suppose you could say I have an appetite for destruction.  
I've had a good time in Japan, however there is only thing spoiling my fun - and that it is the frustration I often felt from having a girlfriend who continually broke up with me and then got back to me as easily as changing one's dirty underwear. I was that dirty underwear... and after each break up I'd swear I'd never get back to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune... It's like... I hate you, but since there's no one else available, lets get back together. She may never have thought that, but I did.
Prior to now, I had only gone three days without having a girlfriend or a girl friend for the evening. Hey... I'm not Charlie Sheen, but for some reason, I've been doing okay here in this Japanese Disneyland.... and I have no idea why. Perhaps it's because no one knows me here, and I can be anyone I want to be. In this case, I've chosen to be more self-confident. I think.
Actually, since arriving in Japan - and wanting a girlfriend - I knew that darn near every guy was going to start chasing Japanese tail. It's a fringe benefit of arriving in the country - and I think as a hetero guy, it's something you are expected to do.
Well... I didn't do that. I figured - correctly - that with all the guys chasing the Japanese women, there might be an opportunity for a guy to set himself up with all of the foreign women (non-Japanese) in Japan.
Most foreign women did not want to date a sexist Japanese man (that is a viewpoint more correct than not) - so they could either go cold turkey (or whatever they call a dildo), or there was me... the only guy not chasing Japanese women.
Part of my reasoning was that there would be a comfort level in dating someone who could speak English.
Ashley was chosen because she chose me, and happened to live a mere 20 minute bicycle ride away. Convenience, I suppose. It was easier than having to learn a whole new language. Though I did have to learn woman-speak. "Fine" does not mean "okay". That's all you need to know.
Regular readers will already know that while I still preferred convenience, I did also try the local cuisine, if you know what I mean - and I think you do.
The second woman I slept with was a Japanese physical education teacher at one of my schools. It was a one or two-time deal, but it made for a charged atmosphere whenever I visited that school. You could smell the sex in the air.
There you have it...  a re-cap of what's been going on in this blog for some 385+ entries. Oh yeah... I also have adventures about town. Do stupid things, observe stupid things and learn that the Japanese are every bit as normal - or whacked out as I am.... perhaps just a tad more polite.

Again... It's June 14, 1991.
Friday.
It's an office day at the OBOE. I send off a few packages - like a video to Kristine; one to Melissa; and a book to Tim. Since Kristine was the one I really adored - she got the better video from me - it was just a bunch of television shows my family had sent to me so that I wouldn't turn completely Japanese from not understanding Japanese television.
I write a few letters and stories and head home at 5PM.
I try to clean up my apartment - unsuccessfully. Which is bizarre. I have a three-bedroom L-D-K, with two balconies... I had a girlfriend (Ashley) up until two Saturday's ago... but really, aside from Matthew, a couple of workers installing my air-conditioner, my boss, a friend's dad to act as translator, the superintendent, and a few hundred spiders on my north balcony - no one has come over.
What have I been doing with my time? I think I've been spacing out.
This evening, I play a few video games, drink a 2-litre bottle of Coke, eat a block of cheese and then fart a lot.
Truly a boring day. 
I miss Ashley.

It's Saturday, June 15, 1991.
I'm up at 8:30AM. I'm exhausted for doing all of that nothing - but perhaps more from not doing anything. I'm still farting from all of that cheese, though.
I get up and do some laundry. It's what I do when I'm depressed. Ironing, too. That's when I'm really down. The farting I can do when I'm depressed or happy. It does make me a bit happier, though.
Matthew comes over and we head down to the capital of Tochigi-ken, Utsunomiya-shi (Utsunomiya City), and go to the new Robinson's department store and then see the movies: My Blue Heaven and Presumed Innocent. The first was so-so, the latter, very good.
Oh... when I left my apartment in Ohtawara with Matthew, we rode to Nishinasuno-eki (Nishinasuno train station), where I happened to part right beside my ex - Ashley's bike.
In my head, I planned to steal her good luck traffic charm from her bike when I got back - I would have done it then, but our train was arriving and we had to really run to catch it!
Anyhow... Matthew and I check out the stores. I buy three CDs, a couple of books and I almost bought a Nintendo Super Famicon video game system. Almost. It would have been an upgrade on my Sega Gamegear hand-held device.
We eat dinner - hop on the train home - but unfortunately, Ashley has beaten us home - she's long gone. She must have noticed my over-sized novelty bicycle parked on top of hers (just like old times - nudge-nudge, wink-wink).
Matthew and I head to the video store - he rents Commando, I rent Total Recall and go our separate ways back in Ohtawara.
I chat on the phone with Kristine a bit and then watch the movie, clean-up - this time for sure, and pass out at 1AM.
It's getting easier to sleep now that I'm over Ashley.

Somewhere wondering who stole MY bicycle good luck charm - ASHLEY!!
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Paul Anka: HARD
PS: Tomorrow and onward, things start to heat up for your old pal Andrew - or, he's going crazy from the heat.
PPS: Plus there will be another blog entry - eight hours from the publication of this one - discussing the injection of Nitrogen into the nuclear reactor core in Fukushima-ken's Dai-ichi facility. It's full of learny stuff that make ya real smart, yup.
PPPS: I made up the word learny - it's a variation of the word 'learned' pronounced 'lur-ned'.

Crazy Train

Sunday, June 9th, 1991.
I'm in Tokyo sleeping in a dorm, on the floor. I had too much to drink last night, made out with a woman I may not have given a second look to usually, and was pretty much depressed - despite having a decent time.
The really good thing is that I got some sleep - waking up at around 10:30AM. Or was it an alcoholic stupor? Whatever... I feel refreshed and almost drink my contact lenses that are sitting in a pair o paper coffee cups. I had my lips to the cup when I remembered!
I don't know about you, but I have really bad eyes. If they get any worse, I'll get a dog and a white cane, so being without a lens would be a very bad thing.
Tim, Mona, her girlfriends and I (including Marie - with whom we did terribly nice but dirty things to each other  - just no happy ending for me!) go to Denny's for breakfast/lunch. Yes... they have Denny's in Japan (デニーズ). God help us all, but there are about 578 Denny's restaurants in Japan.
Despite being molested by Marie, I call Ashley from a pay phone and ask her to come to dinner at my place later this evening. I really need to talk... okay, see her.
Long story short, I get home to Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture). It was a Shinkansen (bullet train) ride, a regular JR (Japan Rail) train ride and then a quick 25 minute bicycle ride. I really have to pee. 
I have no idea what I make for dinner - it's not important.
Ashley arrives and we watch the movie Disorganized Crime. We eat. She's ready to go home when the move ends at 9PM.
By herself.
I have always ridden home to her place in Nishinasuno-machi (Nishinasuno Town). Of course, we were seeing each other then. Now... we've been broken up for 8 days by my calculations - 6 by hers - as apparently it ain't over until the woman says it is.
So... she doesn't want me to ride with her home. It was a safety thing. Or me just being gallant.
So she leaves.
I call her back to talk.
I wanted to find out 'why'.
Why did she break-up with me? I'm the type of person who learns from his mistakes, so I don't make them again. If I actually made any mistakes.
Ashley tells me that I was crowding her. She likes being alone, while I do not.
So... the closer I tried to get to her, the more she tried to to pull away.
And the more she tried to pull away, the closer I tried to get to her.
It was a vicious circle.
It's not you Andrew. It's me.
She didn't say that, but it sure feels that way.
How can I even be friends with someone who wants to be alone?
We talk a bit more, but everything I hear is how she wants to be alone. It almost drives me crazy...
She tells me I'm going to go crazy from the guilt one day.
(Hah! in 2011... I'm getting there!)
Ashley leaves at 10:30PM.
I go to bed. But I'm numb. I feel nothing as I drift into the nothingness of a paranoid sleep.

Somewhere wondering what I could have done differently,
Andrew Joseph
Today's tale is sung by the Blizzard of Oz, Ozzy Osbourne: HA-HA-HA-HA!

Peace Frog

It's Saturday, June 8, 1991. I broke up with my girlfriend, Ashley, last Saturday, but just to make sure I knew we were broken up, she decided to break up with me on Monday. It's okay... I don't understand that sentence either.
The past five days have been the longest I have been without a girlfriend or a "girl friend" to sleep with since I arrived here in Japan last July. You might wonder why would I have other women to sleep with if I had a girlfriend (though regular readers already know...)? Simple... Ashley had broken up with me at least three times prior to this. When that happened, other women wasted little to zero time and zoned in on me to 'date'. Who was I to refuse? Especially since the nearly first 26 years of my life involved a magazine and death grip. I never had to ask anyone out while I was in Japan - except for Nobuko... and  a couple of years later, she was a special case.
So... not getting any and not having anyone to get it from, and I suppose still upset about being dumped - especially after I did the dumping first - well, it all really irks me - I suppose it's why I haven't slept since Saturday night a week ago.
Still, I have places to go and alcoholic beverages to drink and hopefully some women to smooch... I'm off to visit Tokyo. I'm going to hang out with my friends Tim and Mona and then meet the ex-boyfriend (Rory) of the one woman (Kristine South) in this country I really like. I would gladly kill a yak for her supper if she wanted... but, when it comes to things I really, really, really, really want - I was afraid of the possibility of rejection. And so I maintained my death grip, doing some one-handed reading of Playboy/Penthouse/High Society/Celebrity Juggs magazines.
I got up at 6:30 AM and rode my bike to the Nishinasuno-eki (eki = train station) and traveled to Omiya-shi (shi = city) to meet up with Tim and Mona who have been dating for maybe three months now. Tim's an American, and Mona is from Manitoba in Canada. It's a big province, and forgive me - but I don't think I wrote down where exactly she was from. Maybe it's in another diary notebook of mine. (I have six of them)
Tim and Mona. Mona and Tim. Tall and good-looking couple. They seem so happy to these sad eyes. And isn't it just my luck to pick a friend who's an introvert like my ex-girlfriend, who LIKES being an introvert? Me? I'm an introvert pretending he's an extrovert.
We travel to Tokyo and its Asakusa district - it's famous for its Geisha district, and for the oldest shrine in the city. I should be more ecstatic, but I'm not. Yet, Mona's girlfriends who are with us are okay, I guess.
We grab dinner at some restaurant where you can write on the walls. I do the original "Hello Cleveland" line from the movie Spinal Tap - and Tim takes a picture of it that he never gives me.
All of us have a few drinks - me, more than the rest.
We then hook up with Rory and go to a place called DeJaVu - which I have the feeling I once visited before. It's an okay place. Rory is a really nice guy - and seems even cooler after we massacre a bunch of alcoholic beverages called shooters. I don't know what they were except that they were all different. Whoo!
I tell Rory I'll come down and hang with him another day as the rest of us go to a dance club called the Java Jive. Great. Who's effin; idea was this? This is the club where Ashley and I first met, kissed and then did funny things to each other involving hands down pants. This place depresses me a bit (a lot, actually). So I drink more Vodka Screwdrivers (Vodka and orange juice), and lose count after five.
One of Mona's friends - Marie - makes a pass at me. I accept the pass drunkenly. (This next bunch of stuff is exactly what I wrote at the time:) If I wasn't so depressed and desperate for female attention, I'd never even look at her.
Readers - that's harsh. You can tell I'm losing a bit of my grasp with reality (no sleep, lots of booze and emotionally fragile), because thoughts like that have never before or since entered my fragile eggshell mind.
Marie was actually quite nice - she was just not the woman I wanted.
And which one did I want? Ashley? Kristine? Mona? Sure, Mona... but I'd never hit on another guy's girlfriend. That's just not cool. And while I'm not necessarily cool, if I ever want to be a cool guy who writes about his life in Japan 20 years later, being a guy like that isn't what will help me achieve coolness. Kristine - doomed to fail? Ashley: Failed to doom.
Anyhow, Marie and I make-out on the dance floor. I'm sure my mouth tastes like vodka, but then, her mouth tastes like rum, so we double our alcoholic haze with our deep-throat kissing. 
To be honest... that last sentence was crap. I have little to no recollection of what anyone's mouth tasted like that night.Vodka for me - but  I have no idea what she was drinking... perhaps MY vodka. There's a visual joke for you in there involving some sort of tongue in cheek pun.
After sweating up a storm dancing and playing 'grabby pants', Marie and I and the rest of the group head to a  nearby McDonald's for some fast food. Mona hates the place, but my tapeworm and I swear by the quality of the cuisine. I had to coerce Mona into entering the place... threatening that I would successfully hit on each and every one of her friends - including Tim - unless she went into the place.  I said I would embarrass myself and thus her by my Playboy/Penthouse/High Society/Celebrity Juggs-like actions until she did as I asked. So she went into McDonald's - perhaps to spare Tim my vodka/rum breath.
We stayed out and about in Tokyo until 2:30AM and then crashed in a Tokyo university dorm room - on the floor. I have no idea how we got there or where we were or even if it cost anything.
I do recall putting my contact lenses into a pair of used but cleaned paper coffee cups.
What a weird day. Just what I needed. I hope I can remember some of it.

Somewhere wondering why my breath smells of rum,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by THE DOORS - whose lead singer was a hard drinking skirt chaser who lost his grip on reality. There's a similarity between Jim Morrison and I.... but I don't care if women wear skirts or pants. Otherwise...  we are exactly alike. The title is at around the 1:50 mark.
Yeah, right.
PS: I know what shooters are!!!
PPS: That Mona must have been one good friend to put up with me. I should have slept with her.
PPPS: Who the hell is Marie?
PPPPS: This isn't Ohtawara! 
PPPPPS: Where the hell am I?
PPPPPPS: And what the hell is that taste in my mouth?
BY the way... there's another blog in 8 hours from the tie of this posting.

Love Rollercoaster

Because the next two days are kind of dull like my mood, I'm going to combine them. I only include them because I'm setting the mood - as the next couple of months will soon become quite frenetic.

Thursday, June 6, 1991.
At Kaneda Minami Chu Gakko (Kaneda South Junior High School) I only have classes in the 3rd, 4th and 5th period (there are only 5 periods at this school) -  all of which I have to teach by myself as the English teacher Mrs. Yamamoto has to coach a softball tournament.
Before they leave, the girls are out practicing on the field outside, so I go out to watch.
These kids are fantastic! So's the coach. Strong and forceful, but cajoling. An excellent coach.
These girls play better than any of the teams I played on as an adult in my early 20s!
Wishing them good luck, I head back in to prepare for my three classes.
In each of the classes, I show them the first half of the movie Back To The Future - and show the last half after school to 12 very interested - but nerdy - boys. The rest had their own club activities to attend - but 12 is more than I expected, to tell the truth.
When I go home afterward, I call up Rory - Kristine's friend in Tokyo - introduce myself (as a friend of Kristine) and mention that Kristine thought he and I would get along. I then related my girl situation. Rory had no qualms about having me come for a visit to show me around the city to help me get out of my funk (and hopefully my pants! with some lucky woman or three).
It's Thursday. My ex-girlfriend Ashley and I apparently broke up on Monday - even though I'm sure I broke up with her on Saturday. I only mention this because this is the longest I have gone in Japan without having a woman around as my girlfriend or girlfriend as a one-night plaything. That's what Japan was like for me. I spent nearly 26 years being ignored by women back in Toronto, but here in Japan - the whole country was like my own private Plato's Retreat. My own private Disneyland where I don't care how tall you are to ride my roller coaster. 
After talking to Rory, I call up Kristine for a 30-minute sexually-charged one-handed conversation. Just so you all are aware... 20 years later Kristine has no knowledge of these sexually charged conversations, but I still have the right forearm muscles to prove it.
Sated, I call up Tim and Mari Ann before Matthew comes over with his new girlfriend (but mutual friend) Takako. She looks awesome. Matthew's one lucky dog.
I go to bed, but not to sleep. That's Day five, if any one is counting.

Friday June 7, 1991.
Today is an office day where I go to the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) office and write up a few reports for them, write letters and essentially get paid for the day while goofing off.
Kanemaru-san and Hanzaki-san - my two bosses responsible for me while I am in Japan tell me that I'll be getting an air-conditioner in my apartment next Wednesday. Apparently my sweating fish story worked (HOTFISH)!
From the office, I call up the effervescent Melissa - a very sexy blond I really liked but was unable to do anything about while shackled to Ashley since my third day in Japan - and tell her about my situation. Apparently she already knows.
I'm guessing some sort of warning went out to all of the female AETs (assistant English teachers) working in Tochigi-ken on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme to let them know that I was on the prowl. As such - I ain't getting any from her, as she seems to have sided with Ashley on this one. That's just my opinion - she never said anything to indicate that, though.
At home, I decide not to go out to the bars, and instead stay home and further depress myself. Heavily. With booze. I call up a few people: Dan, Matthew, Melissa (again - but she's still not biting, if you know what I mean) and Ashley. We chat for less than a minute. It's not pretty.
And, just to let you know what I was thinking - and have never mentioned this to a single person before - I thought about going up to the roof of my seven-story apartment building and ending it on the pavement below. Stupid. The thought was there long enough to remember it, but short enough to realize I would never do something to hurt myself - especially over a woman. Stupid.
Still, I decide not to even bother going to bed and stay up all night long pacing in my three-bedroom apartment going over the past in my head. I'm just making myself further upset. Stupid.

Somewhere on the prowl,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is ridden by the Ohio Players: TWOTICKETS. There's also a cool version done 20 years later by the Red Hot Chili Peppers: FOURTICKETS (the cost of inflation), but it's well worth the money to have a listen.
PS: The roller coaster goes up and down and side to side - much like the way I was feeling these two days - but you already knew that, didn't you?

Go Your Own Way

Before we start... it has come to my attention that my blog looks quite differently depending on what type of Internet browser you are using. I create mine on Mozilla Firefox - and when I'm done, it looks perfect to me. When viewed on say Safari or Explorer - aahh, no so perfect. Spacing between paragraphs disappears. Photos are larger or smaller - pushing words into a two-character space... I just wanted to apologize. Sometimes, the different browsers make my blog looks like crap. But it's not my fault. It's yours for using a browser different from mine. Just kidding. I just didn't want you to think I'm a complete incompetent. I'm certainly not a complete one. On with the story:


It's Tuesday, June 4, 1991 and apparently my girlfriend Ashley broke up with me yesterday - which is strange because I swear I broke up with her on March 31.
Apparently guys, it's never over until the woman says it's over.
I haven't slept since Saturday night - I'm sure I have, really, but an hour here or there, tops?
I'm at Kaneda Minami Chu Gakko (Kaneda South Junior High School) in Ohtawara-shi (city of Ohtawara), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture) in Japan - about 9 and a half months into my stay. I could have had a kid by now.
School is a complete drag - probably because I let it be so.
All of the kids have questions for me. Here's the type of questions I got today:
"How many girlfriends do I have now?"
None.
"When was you first love?"
August 1 to June 3, Rest in peace.
"Is Ashley-sensei (Ashley teacher) your girlfriend?"
See the answers to the previous two questions.
And it went on and on and on. Every question was a personal question about my love life rather than something about .. oh, I don't know... Canada?!
For the third class of the day, I had to teach it alone. Now despite this school being so wonderful and nice, this particular class was akin to the Hitler Youth. Despite having another teacher there to control the students, she was useless. Students would point to that teachers chest and say "small'. Boys would point to their crotch and say 'big'. There was too much confusion going on and, as you may have gathered from the opening three sentences of this blog, I was in a bad mood.
Later when I had a chance, I told the English teacher, Mrs. Yamamoto, about my current troubles and was very sympathetic - and reciprocated about some of her problems - which I'm not going to repeat here - except that Japanese men can be pigs sometimes.
I get driven home at 4PM and head out to get my hair cut. I have dinner with my friend Matthew at Mosburger - a fast food restaurant chain that has to tasted to believe how good it is! Really. Go to Japan. Go right now and have a Mosburger. I'll wait until you get back.
Back? Good. I think. The rest of the evening is kind of boring.
I go home and do laundry, iron, phone Kristine and tell her almost everything. Truthfully, I didn't tell her why I was looking for her back on my last day in Kobe - and even a few days later, it wouldn't have mattered. Being separated by 500 kilometres is not the way to have a relationship - even a physical one, as I know I'm going to quickly want more than I'm getting. Still... in hindsight, I should have tried harder - or tried. Whatever. No use crying over spilled o-cha (green tea).
Kristine gives me a telephone number for a friend of her's named Rory. I could be wrong (20 years later), but they are either JUST friends, or were once boyfriend/girlfriend... proving that men and women can be friends after breaking up. Personally, I think it's all a trick.
She suggests that perhaps Rory and I should hang out in Tokyo together for a boy's weekend. Okay... what  the heck.
I call up my friend Tim (another AET) who's in Kuroiso about 15 kilomotres north of my town and tell him about Ashley breaking up with me.
He's also confused as he thought I had broken up with her days ago. Still, he, being a good friend, does nothing to bad mouth anybody and instead just opines that 'it's probably for the best.'
Tim tells me that he and Mona and some of her friends are going to Tokyo on the weekend, and we agree to meet.

I watch Knight Rider (a television show about a talking car!!?? - you can view scenes from the 1982 show by clicking on the show's title) until midnight on my bilingual television (it picks up audio signals the station provides in English, or Japanese or both at the same time, depending on what I want).
I read a book until 12:30AM and then lie in my bed until 7AM. No sleep though.

Somewhere having a waking dream of a Mosburger, 
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Fleetwood Mac: STEVIENICKS
PS: I was asked if Ashley reads this blog. To the best of my knowledge - no. Which isn't surprising because my wife doesn't read this blog. Not only does she fear I am stuck in the 1990s (1991, actually), but she seems to think she and Ashley look quite similar. My 40-something wife looks like 22 year-old Ashley? Yes - there is some resemblance,I suppose, but I only noticed that when she pointed it out.  Same coloured hair, I think. Both Sagitarius'. Same complexion, two legs, two arms, a head, same bo--...  y'know... I'm going to quit while I'm ahead and still have a head. But, to allay her fears I had to find a more recent photo of Ashley on the web. My wife is satisfied that they don't look alike or similar even. My wife still doesn't read my blog.
PPS: It's why I feel confident in writing that last paragraph. Hee-hee. 
PPPS: My brother or father don't read my blog. Who the heck is? How did we get over 3000 visits last month? I know... because it's fun AND factual! Thanks to all the readers! Now... if only someone could tell me how I can make money doing this!
PPPPS: Another blog appearing in eight (8) hours - about the nuclear reactor workers. 

What The Hell

It's Saturday, June 1, 1991 and the Renewer's conference in Kobe-shi (City of Kobe) for people returning for another year of the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme ends early this morning. This was still my first year of teaching junior high school English for the Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara) Board of Education (OBOE) in Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture) in Japan.
I've just broken up with my girlfriend Ashley. I feel depressed and angry. My mood isn't helped by Matthew leaving at 8AM to go off visiting Osaka. It's nothing he did wrong, of course - just that I didn't really want to be alone - which was how I now felt.
Jeff Seaman - our pal - he left the night before.
Why am I still here? Too lazy to leave? Naw... I wanted to find Kristine and tell her what went down yesterday.
In the lobby of the hotel, I meet fellow AETs (assistant English teachers) Tim Mould and Mona Maas - a happy couple.
I'm really depressed and I explain my situation. Mona seems very concerned, and it's very much appreciated that she cares. I tell her I think I'm at the end of my rope and keep making comments about how nice I think their relationship is.
Ashley was my first ever major girlfriend, and the first woman I ever loved... well, there was Bryndis back in Toronto... but that was three years ago and lasted the summer before she had to go back to high school (I was 22 and seeing an 18-year-old. Hmm... that seems odd to me now as I write this out).
Mona tells me she thinks I should take some time to reconnect with myself.
Maybe. Aside from three months a few years ago, and the past 10 months here in Japan, I've spent a lot of time connecting with myself. Sometimes more than once a day, if you catch the sexual meaning.
After the speeches are over, Ashley finds me wandering aimlessly in the lobby looking for Kristine or some other feminine shoulder to cry on.
Still, she asks if we can talk, so we go up to a lobby one flight up. As I sit there, not saying anything, other AETs I barely recognize come over one by one and tell me how much they enjoyed meeting me. Most of them - I have no clue who they are. Either I do know and I'm far too depressed  (and it shows on my face, according to Ashley) to remember, or I met everyone in an alcoholic haze. Probably a bit of both - despite my sharp recollections appearing here in this blog.
Ashley asks if I want to come with her this last day in Kobe with her and Mayuko on a sightseeing tour.
'Why not?' I think ignoring Mona's sage advice. 'I could use the company.'
We get our stuff from our hotel rooms and get on a local Kobe train.
I don't get a chance to say good-bye to Kristine - and that sucks. Back to Plan B.
I tell Ashley a big lie to cover up my moody behaviour of the past week - mentioning how my parents have a problem.
That lie, apparently makes a difference as Ashley seems sympathetic, as she buys me lunch at McDonald's and we talk about things unrelated to us or my folks.
I feel better, though, because we aren't fighting.
Are we back together? Didn't I break up with her last night? Why did she seek me out this morning? And where the heck was Kristine? I'm quite sure I wouldn't be eating a Big Mac with Ashley if I just had one more chance to talk with Kristine. Really. This time for sure.
Mayuko, Ashley's local Japanese friend that she met who knows when or where years ago arrives at the McDonald's and then walks us over to a friend's place - Kuriko.
She's very cute, perky and dating a 41-year-old German dude (now I still find that, a bit odd... she's like what, 20?). She, with our luggage crammed into her tiny white car's trunk, drives like she's in a hurry to get to an F-1 race, and while I like her care-free attitude, her driving skills (or lack there in), scare the crap out of me.
We go to a pottery museum - the Hyogo Ceramic Art Museum, I think - where they also allow us to participate in a Japanese Tea ceremony (which I will describe in a later blog). Okay... I'll do it now, briefly.
After the tea is made in a large bowl... I'm told to pick up the bowl with the pattern  facing me. You give thanks and then turn it one quarter at a time - twice - until the pattern on the bowl is now facing away from you. You sip once, twice and then drain it on your third try, ensuring you slurp at the end (slurping implies you enjoyed the food/drink and is considered good manners in many Asian cultures). You then turn the bowl back via two quarter turns and place the bowl down.
Yum. But still a lot of pomp and circumstance for a bowl of tea. Don't they serve any cookies? Nope. Stupid gaijin (foreigner).
Kuriko then drives us to another museum - but it's closed.
So we do what all Japanese do  - and sneak in!!!
I am impressed by the moxie of us all! These Japanese folks seem more like real people than the stifling, giggling image of the prim Japanese kimono-clad Geisha we are always bombarded with in the media. The Japanese are real people! (Uh, forget about the rules for drinking tea, though).
To get into the museum, we had to sneak past an outside office window, and then entered the museum via a side entrance which just so happened to be unlocked.
They were just closing up the place for the day (1PM??!!). It was filled with examples of Chinese pottery and vases, with explanations/descriptions of each written in Japanese and English. But, when both Mayuko and Kuriko saw fit to explain what we were looking at, it seemed as though we were looking at completely different object d'art.
We leave through the proper exit. We not only saved a few yen, but we had an exciting adventure! I've never snuck in or out of anyplace sober.
Because Kuriko has a dentist appointment, she drops us off near the Kobe waterfront - with all of our luggage. Good gravy but it's heavy. We walk down a cemented canal ditch over to the beaches and look at clams and other sea things that have washed ashore. It's all very interesting, but not very pretty, as the area is soiled by metal and concrete structures spewing black acrid smoke into the air.
We then take a taxi to the train station (I paid for some reason) and then travel to Mayuko's apartment where she lives with her folks. Her place is like the 22 floor - high! and there are more levels atop it. The whole building is perched up on the side of a tall hill or very short mountain that other than the apartment complexes, is completely covered in coniferous trees.
Her apartment is as Western as any I've been in here in Canada, but it's beautiful - and her folks are great and serve up a fabulous Japanese meal called shabu-shabu, guest starring the one and only... Kobe Beef!!
Mayuko's dad and I drink heavily until 10:10 PM when I am driven to a hotel. Okay. That was an unexpected development and cost, but no big deal. Ashley stays at the apartment.
Oh yeah... no gaijin hanky-panky. I guess no one told him I had broken up with Ashley. Or maybe someone did... and now figured I would hit on his lovely daughter, Mayuko. Honestly... I never really thought about it while I was eating.
At the hotel, I'm asleep by 10:30PM, but I have a nightmare of a cowboy killing me. Apparently I was affixing a pink tie on him... a pink tie he had stolen from me to lure me to that certain spot.
Holy crap! That sounds rather non-heterosexual. Despite having a meal on a hill, this guy and his six-shooter doesn't travel up Brokeback Mountain.

I try to go back to sleep, but it seems as though 2-1/2 hours is all I'm destined to get today.
What an effin' confusing day!

Somewhere, feeling like crap,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Avril Lavigne: You can see it all here at LACEYBRA

PS: Did I not state at the beginning of this blog that I had broken up with Ashley the previous night? Why did we spend a nice day together today? And where the hell was Kristine? She might have saved me from this purgatory I am about to put myself through over the next few weeks. I'm not blaming anyone but myself, by the way. 

Everything About You

Welcome to the on-going adventures of me.
It's Friday, May 31, 1991 - I'm in Kobe-shi (City of Kobe) for a renewer's conference for returning assistant English teachers (AETs) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.I'm having girlfriend problems (Ashley), compounded by the fact that Ihave some feelings for another young woman - Kristine South - and thetwo of them have met and are apparently chummy. That's all you need to know... except for the fact that despite all of this, I ain't getting any.
It's not a good day. I have donuts for breakfast. Probably because I'm still drunk from last night festivities involving  Kristine and her compadres from the Kinki Block district who don't mind a guy living 500 kilometres away from them hanging out with them.
Finished my long introduction, I move myself from the hotel room - and where the heck did I get these donuts from, anyway? - and make my way over to the conference room where I listen to a bunch of speeches almost as dry as my throat.
I sit with my pal Matthew, Ashley sits beside him. I don't suspect anything is going on with them, because well, I know Matthew. I also know Ashley has been a major drag since I got here to Kobe. Heck, maybe I have too. Anyhow, she's avoiding me. Anyone can see that. I don't, of course.
I ask Ashley if she wants to go to lunch with us, and get that all too familiar response that I wish I had recorded and could put to music for you right now: "No.. too sleepy."
Y'see, it seems she was up late two nights ago after she ditched me. She met up with Kristine and were apparently dancing together at the disco in the effing hotel. Kristine.. you got some 'plaining to do.
Still, it was Kristine who told me. She was down bleary eyed and nice tail yesterday after her late night out with Ashley. She hung out with me at the conference all day long and went out with me in the evening. Ashley  - two days later - needs sleep.
You know, if it was any other person, I would have felt snubbed, but I know Ashley and sleep go together like... well, like Kristine and me. Or so I delude myself, even almost 20 years later.
Anyhow, Tim Mould, his girlfriend Mona Maas, Doug Maitland, Matt, Kara (the cousin and fellow AET of Mari Ann Hiroka, another AET) and I go to an Indian restaurant called Gaylords (no apostrophe). I think everyone here feels I need cheering up and are concerned for me, and want to make me feel comfortable... which is why the Indian restaurant was chosen.
Matthew, the only one besides myself who should have known better is either too hungover to care, or really wants Indian food, or has plotted his revenge against me for all of my nightly snorings which seem to bother both Doug and he, but not myself for some reason.
Anyhow... I may look like I'm Indian (dot not the feather), but I've never been there, don't speak any of the languages, and darn it all, don't eat the food because it was always too hot when my mom made it.
Still... mom... I hope you were proud of me, because I ate all I was given even though my actual hair began sweating from the spicy food. My hair. Not my scalp. My friggin' hair! How does that country taste its food?
The afternoon back at the conference is spent listening to a witty little speech given by a member of the Japan Times newspaper. She's very funny - but, because of the Indian food, I spend most of the afternoon trying not to fart and crap my pants.
When her speech finishes, I find Ashley and ask if she'll join me in 10 minutes time for a hamburger. I apparently have important business to take care of in the washroom of my hotel room. Yes, Matthew... something did die in there.
Ashley and I were going to go to the Garage Paradise and meet the Northern Tochigi-ken crowd (of which I belong).But, because they didn't have hamburgers there, Ashley decides she wants Mexican food so the two of us join Mari Ann's group of South western Tochigi-ken AETs and her crowd of red-neck friends. These people were real friggin' yahoos. Not an intelligent word spat out of their maws. Redneck... it's the only way I can describe guys who actually chew tobacco and make jokes about retarded kids. The term retarded... that's what they used. Idiots.
I want to go to the Garage Paradise and be with people of class and intellect... but Ashley wants to stay and go along for the ride - wherever these guys and their rusty pick-up truck are going (that's a redneck joke, boy).
I actually tell Ashley that I don't like these people.
Why, she asks.
Because they are rednecks.
She doesn't  think so.
In my head and as I first wrote this down in my diary 20 years ago, I thought that she didn't think they were rednecks because she was probably one herself. She was born in Georgia and went to school in Texas. Everything's bigger in Texas... including the rednecks.
Now... I do want to state for the record, that I have never believed one has to be from the southern part of the US to be a redneck. A redneck is an attitude rather than a geographical location. Heck, boy, we haz rednecks all over Canada. Yee-haw!
I was just upset with Ashley liking people who acted... well, like this. I thought she was better than this. That just put me in a deeper funk.
We all mosey on down to The Attic. I say it's too small to handle our rodeo-like crowd, but Seanna (a beautiful Hawaiian whom I never really liked because she seemed to know she was beautiful... and well, hell, she never gave me the time of day... screw that!), she wanted to go to the next door place, The Attic Jr. Good girl! I knew I liked her! And who is naming all of these restaurant/bars here in Kobe, Japan?
We go. The place is bigger. But then Seanna says - before we even have a beer - that she wants to go back to The Attic. So we go back. It's still too small, and there's no room for us. The staff tell us to go to The Attic Jr.
Now, I'm not the type of guy who says "I told you so"... actually, I was that type of guy and still am that kind of guy, so I do.
That pisses Ashley off. You know... because I'm right, and Ive embarrassed her and all of her friends that she thinks are cool by being right.
She storms off.
I follow.
We talk, in a fashion, in a very agitated fashion.
Then I ask her if she wants to have a serious talk. A real one.
She says "yes".
What the heck was I thinking?
Well, in my mind, I was going to break off our relationship. Screw the 'first love' thing - I'm in a foul mood! So, I tell her that I want to break up.
Now she doesn't want to talk - and says nothing. She's thinking, I think.
We - the two of us - walk back to our hotel, arriving at 10PM. A very early evening for me, as that's usually when I'm getting started, and usually when Ashley has been asleep for an hour.
Obviously I don't get a kiss or a hug. I didn't expect one, and while I wouldn't say no to it, I didn't really want one. I got my wish.
On a bit of an emotional high for finally standing up for myself and finally breaking up with HER (we did break up, right?), I treat myself by going out to the hotel disco and dancing until 1AM when it's obvious I have sweat my weight in beer and vodka. I'm too emotionally high to get drunk.
Ashley was always too shy to dance, though I was able to do so at an AET party back at Christmas time. To be honest... that was the first time I had ever danced. My mom pretty much told me before I left for Japan, to keep the beat (easy because I am musical) and move as much of my body as possible. For some reason it works. 
I have no idea who I was dancing with, but there were at least three beautiful women who didn't mind me sweating - because... I'm not that bad a dancer. That's my opinion, of course.
Finishing my dances, I bid my partner sayonora (good bye) and head to the hotel lobby to pay my hotel bill (which is reimbursed by my office at a later date), pack my clothes and go to sleep on my fold out bed.
I'm pretty sure I snore. I dream of nothing... which is what I feel I have right now.

Somewhere, the bathroom still smells of curry,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Ugly Kid Joe. I chose it because it could be about the rednecks, Seanna, Ashley or myself. HATEEVERYTHING.
PS: Twenty years later, I still have the lyrics memorized.
PPS: I did break up with her, didn't I? And where the heck was Kristine this evening?
PPPS: Another blog to appear in 8 hours time - unrelated to this particular adventure, though.

Fergaclicious

A note about yesterday's blog - I forgot to post the photo of my tako (kite). Please have a look: TAKO

This blog wasn't originally called anything, but if I had thought about it, I would have called it: Of Rice and Yen. 

As a foreigner (gaijin) from a country that's not quite the United States of America, but often mistaken for the same, I am often asked about my feelings about the Japanese/Yankee rice trade.

My initial reaction, is of course, who gives a crap? But as an ambassador of Canada on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme, I should perhaps not speak so tersely. Perhaps irrationality is called for.

Let's see... Hmm. At every one of the seven junior high schools I visit here in Ohtawara-shi, I get to eat lunch with the students. That lunch invariably consists of cooked rice (gohan) and some other stuff. 

Every day, at every school or restaurant I visit, I am always asked if Japanese rice is oishii (delicious... it's pronounced oy-she). How the heck would I know? It's rice isn't it? It tastes like rice so how can't or can it taste anything but delicious (depending on your point of view). Doesn't rice taste like rice? Isn't it all the same flavour? 

Now... the zesty taste of chili con carne ala Andrew is oishii... but rice is like green tea (o-cha). To quote fellow AET (Assistant English Teacher) Tim Mould: "It's got no taste!" If picturing this, you should add an image of Tim jumping up and down in exasperation and then pouting.

It's a Nihonjin (Japanese people) tradition to inquire of the gaijin whether or not they like all types of Japanese food. It's like it's a test, to see if you are worthy of being "Japanese-like"... if you don't like something, it's because you are a gaijin, and may not have the tastebuds of a Nihonjin. Well, they may have something there.

All Japanese people swear that Japanese rice tastes much better than American rice. Really? How do they know? Have they ever sampled California rice? I swear, Japan's agrarian economy would collapse in a heartbeat if a Japanese person ate anything but Japanese rice--and woe be to them if they thought that gaijin rice was tasty.

For that matter, how many Americans know where their rice is from--and no, Rice-A-Roni, the San Francisco treat and Rice Krispies do not count.

Since I am almost from America (America Jr., actually) the Japanese are anxious to know of my opinion on the taste differences between rice varieties. 

Now, while I can tell the difference between New Coke, Diet Coke, Coke Classic (remember - this is 1993, not 2010!), Caffeine-free Coke, Diet Caffeine Coke, Cherry Coke, Diet Cherry Coke, Taste Free Coke (o-cha), RC Cola, Pepsi Cola, Pepsi Free, Diet Pepsi, Spam Pepsi and several species of bathtub mold (not my friend Tim), I just couldn't explain the nuances between western and eastern rices. I think it's because of my Indian heritage (dot, not the feather), and the fact my parents would usually buy Indian rice.

Then it dawned on me - hey, I never really ate rice until I got to Japan (Mom made two meals - one for her and my dad, and one for my brother Ben and I). As well, I also recalled that Indian rice is a long-grained rice that sticks together. It has to stick together or Japan would never buy rice from India - chopsticks, you know. And why does Japan buy rice from anywhere except Japan. For crying out loud, the name of my city: Ohtawara literally means 'big-rice field-field'! That's all there is in this country.

American rice, is a smaller grained ... fruit? vegetable?... whatever it is... and it doesn't stick together... though I'm told some varieties are sticky. 

Anyhow, as of now - 1993, the Japanese don't want to allow American rice into their country because apparently America sprays a preservative chemical onto the rice so that it can be safely transported.  

The Japanese say, between puffs of cigarettes and sake (rice wine... sorry... Japanese rice wine) that they are wary of what they put into their mouth, not wanting to ingest any chemicals that might be harmful.

A word to the wise, people: if Japanese rice is more tasty than American rice, it may be because of the plethora of drunken men who routinely relieve themselves in the rice paddies.

Yum. 

Somewhere eating bread, 

Andrew Joseph

 Today's title is by Fergie... mostly because she's hot. EATITUPYUM

It ain't rock and roll, but I like it. 

PS: This story was originally published in the July 1993 issue of Networking magazine in Tochihi-ken. I actually got paid to write it. I know, I know... what the hell were they thinking? 

PS: The photo above shows off a couple of bales of rice. Okay, they are really miniature bottles of sake designed to look like ancient bundles of rice. But, I don't have any Japanese rice around the house for a photo because the nuances of rice are unknown to me, so my wife buys whatever is on sale... usually from America Jr.'s cousin to the south.

Leader Of The Pack

So... today, July 28 marks the 20th anniversary of me leaving Toronto for Japan. Wow... what a long strange trip its been. I flew on NorthWestern flight 293 at 11:10AM from Toronto, stopping off in Detroit to pick up a few more passengers before heading off to Tokyo. It was a long and boring flight, but thankfully aside from voluntarily switching seats so a couple of women could gab, I watched all of the in-flight movies, ate all of the in-flight food, used the washrooms only once just before landing in Japan and stayed awake the entire time - I think it was 17 hours. As such, we did not land in Japan until the 29th of July. So that's when the fun really begins. Let's continue on with the blog I started yesterday which describes a typical day for me in those early years. yesterday was all about school/work and today's is all about the personal life. I hope you find it amusing.

After a day 'team-teaching' at Kaneda Kita Chu Gakko (Kaneda North Junior High School), I'm back at my apartment at 5:15PM. Last night, Ashley and I had a disagreement and were currently on the outs. Not wanting to let the first woman I'd ever slept with get away with or without a fight, I wanted to resolve the situation by calling her to apologize - even though I wasn't at fault. I had learned that even if it wasn't my fault, an apology would get me sex sooner than if I let it fester without apologizing.
Apparently after this initial apology, I would forget that bit of self-deluding advice.
So... while I wait a goodly enough time for Ashley to arrive back home from work, I ponder my navel. At 5:20PM, the doorbell rings - it's Ashley. Smiling.
Smiling? Never trust a smiling cat. I'm confused.
She hands me a large bouquet of flowers saying it's for me. Nice - I suppose. No one ever gave me flowers before... uh, except for the Japanese (now three or four times this past month). I'm a guy. What do I want with the flowers? Now maybe a beer? That would be guy stuff.
Anyhow, the flowers I received earlier that day from Kaneda Kita, well, I tell Ashley they are for her (there's no 'Welcome Andrew-sensei' card on there is there??!!). Hmmm, 20 years later it dawns on me that perhaps this similar sized bouquet of flowers she has given me may have been a present from her school. Hey! Waitaminute!  It's the thought that counts right? Right? That's what I thought.
We talk for a bit and iron out our difference (which I did not write down in my diary - probably because I had no idea what the heck caused the argument).
We're supposed to go out for an AET group function this evening in Yaita-machi town, maybe ten kilometers south of Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara city). We ride from my house to her place in Nishinasuno-machi (machi means town) to meet fellow canuck Jeanne Mance Blanc - another junior high school AET (Assistant English Teacher) who lives in Ashley's building. The three of us ride over to Nishinasuno-eki (eki means station)... we meet Matthew there, and an American guy working at Union Carbide on a work exchange.
We're going to Yaita (a really small podunk of a place) to celebrate the 34th birthday of Marshall... a senior high school teacher (like Ashley) in Yaita, who also has a crush on her (she's 21). Add in that he's taller, blonder, tanner, and more self-confident than me (I know, that sounds impossible, but in 1990 it's true - it's why I never asked Kristine South if I could visit her - not guts, no glory)... anyhow, I was not happy to be going on this trip, but Ashley wanted to go - and it was a way to see the other AETs to find out how they were doing after a month plus here in Japan.
Usha  (a Canadian girl of Indian descent - the dot not the feather, and who is a junior high teacher  in Yaita), meets us at the station and directs us to a nearby tempura restaurant (deep-fried, lightly breaded veggies and meat products - yum).
Before she leaves to go and pick-up Marshall from his apartment, Usha asks if I could make a witty speech to Marshall (because you're so funny, Andrew). Because of Usha's height (or lack there of), I'm sure she does not see my eyes roll back into my head, as the thought of having to do anything for Marshall makes me want to puke.
Timothy Mould is there. He missed the first month of the JET Programme experience because of mono or something like that. He's okay, I guess. A little dull, but okay. He seems a-way too straight and conservative. Ashley of course, makes a bee-line toward the guy to chat.
So I'm jealous. I'm always jealous. I lack self-confidence. (I know, I know - but it's true - even today in 2010).
Marshall arrives. surprise. whoopee. Maybe it's because everyone here is a nerd, but no one seems to know what to do at this party (Okay, Matthew and Brian have a handle on the drinking), so I start to lead them ... let's sing happy birthday, make him make a wish (did he look at Ashley when he did that?), and then cut the cake. Before we dole out the joke presents we all bought him, I give my speech. Not knowing what to do until I do it, I put the fun back in funeral:
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to pay our respects to Marshall. He WASSsss (heavy emphasis here) a young man..."
Everyone sucks in air at my audacity, but then they begin laughing.
I then change the speech to make it charming and witty - it's the old guy's birthday, after all.
Still, the speech kills - perhaps because we've already started drinking before eating.
Dinner was okay. I have maybe half a beer and then a lot of coke. I pretend my back is hurting to try and garner some sympathy from Ashley. Hey, I said I was jealous - not a moron. It works.
At 9PM, I can tell Ashley wants to leave because she is tired of Marshall's attempts at flirting... but Tim wants to talk with her now. Am I being paranoid?
Marshall keeps insulting me with semi-witty banner. Dude, you don't want to start with me... when it comes to witty retorts, for me it would be like battling an unarmed opponent.
I want to say something or drive my fist into his throat, but I can't do that on his birthday, so instead I swallow my pride and have another coke.
As we are leaving, the shop owner stops ME and asks if I will have a sake (rice wine) shot with him (I think he saw how much money I put in to the party kitty to pay the bill). Despite my mood, I'm here to internationalize the Japanese - and like it or not, booze is conversation lubrication. We have a couple of shots (this stuff goes down like water) - he slaps me on the back and asks me to come again. Now, perhaps my memory of this is skewed, but I think I was the only one to do shots with him.
At 9:40 we finally leave the establishment and catch the train back north (two stops). Matthew is tanked, but he, Ashley, Jeanne, Brian, Timothy (who live two stops north of Nishinasuno in Kuroiso-shi) and myself ride the JR train. It's always on time - what is a JR train? It's similar to an Amtrack or Via train traveling between towns and cities.
I sit on the right side of Ashley, Tim on her left. Bugger. Is he boring or annoying? (Tim did become a friend - and did have a decent sense of humour... and I guess I didn't take into account that as a newcomer in Japan he was lonely and wanted to talk with a fellow high school AET - Ashley).
Departing at Nishinasuno-eki to leave Tim to travel the last two stops by himself, we head for our bikes... Brian lives on the other side of the station and walks home. Jeanne decides to take us on a scenic route back to her and Ashley's place. Say bye (no kiss - because there are witnesses - or because she is plotting to sleep with Tim and Marshall??!! - okay, even though I'm jealous, I know it's because of the witness thing).
I ride back with Matthew - over to his place to make sure he gets home okay - I don't need the big guy to careen drunkenly into a rice field and drown when a farmer urinates on him. I bike home... it's 10:30PM and there is no one - I mean, no one - on the streets.
It's an interesting feeling to be prowling the streets of Ohtawara on my bicycle... I feel kind of like a ghost as I flit by the homes being careful not to ride my bike into an open sewer.
And that was my day, September 11, 1990. How was your day?

Somewhere going vroom-vroom,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title was originally sung by The Shangri-Las - a quartet who usually appeared as a trio when on tour - see the video here - DOWN-DOWN. 
And, for your entertainment pleasure, here's a Twisted Sister version, GET THE PICTURE?.
For your edification, in the photo above at Marshall's birthday party - can you believe I actually brought a camera, too??!! are (back row from left): Matthew, Brian, Ashley, Tim; (front row from left): Jeanne,  Myself (Andrew), Marshall and Usha. The photo was taken by my fellow sake shot putter and restaurant owner.

One For The Road

It's Sunday, December 9, 1990 and I'm at the Kanemaru residence in the village of Kurobane which is south east Ohtawara (Although I believe in 2005 it joined up and became a part of Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City)).
I'm awoken at 7AM... and because I'm still young and stupid, last night's drinking does not hurt me. Never had a hangover in my life, in fact.
Breakfast is that old standby:  dinner leftovers (beef stew) and a quiche and we're out of the house at exactly 9AM.
Oh yeah, I had the mustard plaster removed from my back along with pretty much all of my back hair and skin... but skin pain aside, the muscles and bones feel pretty good.
As we head out on the highway, I'm still unsure where we're going. Tomahiro is feeling a little sick, but what is alarming is the fact that he isn't wearing his seatbelt beside me in the backseat. He says he doesn't ant to, and his folks (I love'em to death) don't seem to mind because they don't say a word.
Kanemaru-san's white Nissan Cherry Vanette (see photo below) has something on it that causes a bell to go off if the vehicle is driven over 100 kilometres per hour (kph). Man, that would drive me crazy. However, just to show he's a rebel, Kanemaru-san checks out my tolerance levels by driving no more and no less than 101 kph.

Okay, I finally realize that we are driving out to Ashikaga (southwest Tochigi-ken) to see the oldest school in Japan - it's supposed to be 500 years old.
When we arrive, I think it looks pretty darn good for its age. At the entrance/fee place, I pick up a brochure. It says Kurita Museum. Whoops. It's a pottery museum, and once you get past that fact, it's a pretty neat place.
next we spend 30 minutes looking for a place to eat lunch - Japanese food, of course,and I have tonkatsu (breaded pork cutlet) which is now my favourite food. Oink.
We then drive out to the school. Honto (Really). We park, walk up to the entrance and discover that it is closed today. It's time's like this when I am very glad I don't understand everything I hear because Mrs. Kanemaru was giving it to poor Kanemaru-san.
We then decided to go home... or so I thought. We parked again and stepped out onto the set of a television NHK samurai drama called Taiheiki about a guy named Ashikaga Takauiji, the first shogun of the Muromachi Shogunate in the 14th century.
The set looks exactly like a real old village, but it was built only two months ago.
Click HERE for some photos of Ashikaga.
Home is the next target. I think.
Kanemaru-san is falling asleep at the wheel. His wife, who can drive, is afraid to do so on the highway. We're all going to die. Tomahiro really should put his seatbelt on.
Anyhow, after a couple of packs of Golden Bat cigarettes and a few coffee breaks, we finally head of the highway at which point the missus takes over behind the wheel for the last 10 minutes of our trip back to my apartment.
I'm tired and really need to pee, so I trudge upstairs, open the door and walk into the bathroom, neglecting to close the door - why? It's my place.
Just as I'm about to finish, I hear someone call my name.
Peeing everywhere, I scream in mortal fear!
It's Ashley.
She said she spent the night waiting for me to show up after she and Matthew spent the night drinking at the local 4-Carat before they both crashed at my place for a while.
Anyhow, long story made longer, we're now back together. She tells me couldn't get me out of her mind, and in an attempt to do so she burned all of my photographs. Apparently that voodoo trick didn't work.
Anyhow, after we consumate our togetherness, I wryly think to myself that I've just been with three women in four days. I love Japan. I hate Canada. Not really, but I assume you know what I mean.
Sleep is no longer an option because while Ashley and are are working out our problems, I'm also in entertainment mode. Tim Mould calls. Matthew Hall calls. Kristine South calls. My parents call. Yeesh. Thank goodness Christine L. didn't call.
After I ride back with Ashely to her place and then an hour later ride back to mine, it's 2:10AM and I have to get up in four hours.

Somewhere wondering how I'm going to top this week,
Andrew Joseph
PS - Today's title is delivered by Judas Priest, and it was chosen only because the title presented triple entendres - which is why I created this blog in the first place. LISTEN if you dare. Man I have strange taste in music.
PPS - I just need Kristine to miraculously show up my place tomorrow. I can dream, can't I? It's been that kind of week. Too bad it's over.