Since my company unexpectedly went bankrupt last week, I've had a few days to myself. I do go back to work tomorrow, but the details of which I'd rather not discuss, since they're a bit unclear to me at the moment. Now that I'm approaching the end of my short, surprise vacation, it occurs to me that I didn't do that much. My initial thought is of self-dissatisfaction at my apparent laziness, but hey – I've been sort of on the go now for six months; not doing much is probably what I needed. I don't know my neighborhood that well, at least not on one side of the main street that I walk nearly everyday to get to my station. Yamashina station is a connecting point for the JR line and the Karasuma subway line. At rush hour, it's still nothing in comparison to many of the stations in Tokyo at nearly anytime of day. Tokyo does remind me of New York in that regard, though quite different. The parallel is easy to draw for obvious reasons, but the energy is everywhere and it's fast and addictive. It makes me wonder about energy that we all have and oddly enough – yawning ... how that's contagious, maybe we just emit something that influences those around us, just by being. Anyhow, serious digression. Yamashina is nothing like Tokyo. Life is slower here. I am one stop away from Kyoto station on the JR line and within one or two stops in any direction on the subway line there are temples and shrines ... large temples and shrines. That aspect I will admit was one of the main reasons for this entire move and somehow, in that way, things have really fallen into place.
So, I decided to go out for a stroll about two hours ago and explore a bit on the way to dinner. It's more peaceful at night and I don't stand out so much, at least not from a distance. There is a big shopping center just about five minutes away on foot called Daimaru. It is located next to the train station as are many restaurants, a pachinko place (shop, crazy loud mess...whatever), a few karaoke bars and the other side as yet to be unexplored.
As I crossed the street, "Speak To Me/Breathe", the opening track to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon started to fade-in. It's always been a symbol of home when I listen to that album in full, wherever I've been. It turns out that there are many little bars on the other side of the Daimaru and another stream (all cement). As I walk it occurs to me that I'm actually living in the suburbs again. ha! So foreign that I didn't even understand the concept of where I was living. OTP y'all!! Way OTP. There is a discount sporting goods shop ... awesome, another cheap vending machine restaurant ... love it, and an arcade called Super Hero. Super Hero was crazy! One of the schools where I had been teaching was in an area between Kyoto and Osaka called Takatsuki and it had an arcade that was pretty insane, but this one had more video games, not just gambling video games! Speaking of Dark Side of the Moon, do you know the whole deal with synching it to The Wizard of Oz? That's crazy-old now, but well, I've done it before ... I'm sure that doesn't come as a surprise. Anyhow, if you synch it right (third lion roar), when Dorothy opens the door from her house and she's in Munchkin Land it turns from black and white to color ... just when "Money" starts and you hear the old cash register 'cha-ching'. Perfect. That's how I felt stepping into Super Hero. Earbuds came out for just a minute.
There was a kid playing something like "Super Mega Insane Drums ... 7". It was arranged with four pads and a kick, much like the drums for Rock Band, well, nearly exactly, except they were attached to the arcade game itself. I could barely see his hands moving, let alone the notes he was playing that were falling from the top of the screen, faster than gravity. Even more stunning - he was getting perfect scores. I stepped past to watch from behind another game, despite how obviously lame and stalkery it seems ... it was just too crazy. When he finished that song ... he was disappointed with himself. Any unrealistic dream of becoming a drummer that I had ... shot. Taking his lead, with my dismay I turned around to see another game, right beside me. Mind you, the computer was playing it but I still watched with both shock and quasi-appal. I'm not a gamer and I haven't really played video games much at all in years, but this fighting game took it to new levels. The creativity was staggering as was the kangaroo that was fighting either the devil or one of his close constituents. So this imp had bones sticking out of his elbows, horns and of course bat wings, but that was nothing compared to the fighting kangaroo. She had her little .. uh, Joey or whatever (baby) in her pouch. He was throwing sucker punches and wearing some really kick ass sunglasses. The mom was wearing a snorkel, mask and scuba oxygen tank!!! Enough? Oh no! As if the arsenal weren't already surprising enough, she had what initially appeared to be a red Afro shooting liquid, but it wasn't hair, it was a venomous red frog, latched onto the kangaroo's head, nestled between the ears! Damn! That's creativity! The devil finally won, despite his confusion with whom he was fighting ... it probably just pissed him off more.
So, I walked through the remaining rows of Super Hero and decided to leave and continue the stroll of random. I came across a restaurant that had English on the sign. It read "The Premium Yakiniku Dinnindg". I fn love Japan! Despite any difficulties or any previous negativity I may have had, I can be completely alone and there is always something that makes me smile. I decided not to go there because it was a bit too expensive. On I went and found a hon ya - bookstore. Every time I see a bookstore, I go in despite my knowledge of my lack thereof. I can't read anything ... I mean, ANYTHING. It's humbling to be so confused, so pathetically incapable, but it does provide an interesting glimpse into how someone who can't, might feel. To the upstairs I went for the comics, just to see what they had – all graphic novels. Some of them had unbelievable artwork. Wow, am I really an artist? This crap is amazing! Unlike the crazy, psycho drummer boy, seeing this inspires me to draw, to create something. By this time, I'm hungry, so it's time to move on.
Back to the vending machine diner before heading home. Itadakimasu!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Monday, December 21, 2009
The other White meat, on the train.
Okay, so I'm honestly not sure if this title is offensive or not. Generally, I seem to fall on the side of offensive. So, I've been pondering this one a bit because of the frequency with which I see another gaijin(non-Japanese, usually referring to westerner) on the train. I always think about something that my friend Pooh back home told me. He said basically that every time he is at a party in Atlanta and other Asians walk in, they'll spot him and beeline it over to him. "I don't know you! I'm Asian, yeah, I get it" is what he'd tell me he wishes that he could say, but never does. I realize now, more than before, that being a minority can in fact be quite lonely and sometimes you just look for a face that you can communicate with or that you think you can. I've only been here for around six weeks, so I am definitely not amassing this experience to a life of it in the U.S., that would be absurd I realize. However, there is also a distinct language barrier here which reaffirms this desire for similar backgrounds, connection and a more open exchange.
I have only spoken to one white girl on the train. She was studying Japanese and going to a university in Tokyo, which one I don't recall. That was actually a nice experience because she was open to talking. Aside from this one experience, each time I make eye contact, the other gaijin turns away. This reaction seems to imply more than just showing their disinterest in discussion because the movement is so fierce. Instead, I feel that it illustrates their general desire to be the only non-Asian. It reminds me of playing hide and go-seek and when you are about to be found, like a child you cover your face...because, well, if I can't see you... then you can't see me? The logic escapes me as an adult. The simple fact that it feels like such an intentional avoidance just pisses me off! I don't need to converse, but don't pretend that I'm not here! Am I projecting this? It's possible, I've been referred to as crazy before and it's starting to show itself more each day, but I really think that there is validity in this assessment. I've been open to other people talking to me, but they never do. "Am I the only one who can't read that sign?" I think.... "maybe they're fluent in Japanese... perhaps they're Italian and don't speak much English" (I've met 5 Italians that avoid discussion with me more than Japanese do - just sayin). It's frustrating, so I've given in and now I feel like one of them...have I become a drone, socially?
In the U.S. it seems that we identify ourselves as individuals, completely different from others, we wear this, play that, read this type of novel, watch that kind of movie, drink that beer or don't drink, smoke or not....on and on, but here, even if it still applies, it just seems that because of the crowd, the sheer numbers, you are not an individual... unless you're not Asian. That's how it feels, but then being watched constantly I sometimes wish that I could not be seen for not being Asian or even, just not be seen. In Kobe, I wore sunglasses and had my hoodie on so it wasn't obvious at one point, because everyone....EVERYONE there stared at me.
I think there are two routes that this line of thinking can provide. One is frustration and anger at feeling so different and having to be continually reminded of it (people avoid sitting beside me at all cost). The other route is to just accept it and slowly start to learn more so that I can read more - perhaps enjoy the process and experience.
After the Taiko Drumming show that my buddy Jess and I saw the other night, we were headed back to Suitengumae on the subway and there was a woman who looked like a fifty year old Strawberry Shortcake (may have been the red clothes and the button nose, also red) who got on a few stops after us. She obviously had some mental issues and at first she seemed kind of funny. That changed quickly because while seated, she kept closing her eyes and smacking herself in the face. Not loudly, or incredibly hard, but repeatedly for about four minutes and then she would look at her cellphone and then do it again. No one said or did anything, the way that people act in large cities everywhere - it's universally "none of my business". I wanted to sit with her and hold her hand because I felt horrible for her, but she also reminded me of myself in an odd way. I somehow became part of the greater group of people on the train because I wasn't doing that at least. Loneliness is a weird identity to own. She owned it more than I had seen before, even in the U.S. but unfortunately I did nothing at all because I also feel like a visitor here and I have no business in any of this really. It says visitor on the passport, though I did pick up my Gaijin Card today from the Nakano City Office. I realize that I am foreign and this is just a temporary experience that I should enjoy more. Generally it's been great, but here and there I think I'm seeing it more for what it is and I miss and finally see what I had somehow forgotten about the identity of the United States. At the very least, this has made me realize what and who I love and miss. For now, I will just continue to look for work and accept that I will be stared at because I'm White. What did I expect right?
I have only spoken to one white girl on the train. She was studying Japanese and going to a university in Tokyo, which one I don't recall. That was actually a nice experience because she was open to talking. Aside from this one experience, each time I make eye contact, the other gaijin turns away. This reaction seems to imply more than just showing their disinterest in discussion because the movement is so fierce. Instead, I feel that it illustrates their general desire to be the only non-Asian. It reminds me of playing hide and go-seek and when you are about to be found, like a child you cover your face...because, well, if I can't see you... then you can't see me? The logic escapes me as an adult. The simple fact that it feels like such an intentional avoidance just pisses me off! I don't need to converse, but don't pretend that I'm not here! Am I projecting this? It's possible, I've been referred to as crazy before and it's starting to show itself more each day, but I really think that there is validity in this assessment. I've been open to other people talking to me, but they never do. "Am I the only one who can't read that sign?" I think.... "maybe they're fluent in Japanese... perhaps they're Italian and don't speak much English" (I've met 5 Italians that avoid discussion with me more than Japanese do - just sayin). It's frustrating, so I've given in and now I feel like one of them...have I become a drone, socially?
In the U.S. it seems that we identify ourselves as individuals, completely different from others, we wear this, play that, read this type of novel, watch that kind of movie, drink that beer or don't drink, smoke or not....on and on, but here, even if it still applies, it just seems that because of the crowd, the sheer numbers, you are not an individual... unless you're not Asian. That's how it feels, but then being watched constantly I sometimes wish that I could not be seen for not being Asian or even, just not be seen. In Kobe, I wore sunglasses and had my hoodie on so it wasn't obvious at one point, because everyone....EVERYONE there stared at me.
I think there are two routes that this line of thinking can provide. One is frustration and anger at feeling so different and having to be continually reminded of it (people avoid sitting beside me at all cost). The other route is to just accept it and slowly start to learn more so that I can read more - perhaps enjoy the process and experience.
After the Taiko Drumming show that my buddy Jess and I saw the other night, we were headed back to Suitengumae on the subway and there was a woman who looked like a fifty year old Strawberry Shortcake (may have been the red clothes and the button nose, also red) who got on a few stops after us. She obviously had some mental issues and at first she seemed kind of funny. That changed quickly because while seated, she kept closing her eyes and smacking herself in the face. Not loudly, or incredibly hard, but repeatedly for about four minutes and then she would look at her cellphone and then do it again. No one said or did anything, the way that people act in large cities everywhere - it's universally "none of my business". I wanted to sit with her and hold her hand because I felt horrible for her, but she also reminded me of myself in an odd way. I somehow became part of the greater group of people on the train because I wasn't doing that at least. Loneliness is a weird identity to own. She owned it more than I had seen before, even in the U.S. but unfortunately I did nothing at all because I also feel like a visitor here and I have no business in any of this really. It says visitor on the passport, though I did pick up my Gaijin Card today from the Nakano City Office. I realize that I am foreign and this is just a temporary experience that I should enjoy more. Generally it's been great, but here and there I think I'm seeing it more for what it is and I miss and finally see what I had somehow forgotten about the identity of the United States. At the very least, this has made me realize what and who I love and miss. For now, I will just continue to look for work and accept that I will be stared at because I'm White. What did I expect right?
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Kami-Mizu-Kami...
So, this is it... not to be so cliche or steal any thunder from MJ (hardly the case), but I'm finally blogging. So, to get to the point, I'm currently in Japan, Tokyo in fact and it's completely crazy. Thailand, where I was previously (for two and a half weeks) was as different from Japan as the U.S. is. I don't know that it's the difference in culture or the intention while being immersed in that particular culture. It seems that a vacation can stand to be a bit culturally shocking, in fact often that's what we desire, but to live in a culture that is so different, that's a bit less palatable. Unemployment is another unusual beast... as is the fact that the building I'm in shakes constantly from tremors. I knew Japan had earthquakes but this is absurd. Nothing is falling down, but the water (or mizu) in my glass is never still, not a Jurassic Park impact tremor, just a constant movement back and forth, though subtle.
I'm writing from the fifth floor bedroom in a house in Suitengumae (sweet•in•goo•ma•eh) where the Takahashi family has taken me in as their newest gaijin son. They're awesome!!! Kayoko, the mom or okasan just went with me to get a cellphone. I had been three times previously, but with no luck - first docomo, then softbank and then au. Softbank is what finally worked...somehow, it's still a mystery to me.
Things here are strange/unbelievably difficult, but if you can laugh at your inability to communicate then you can make it. I had dinner last night with my newest family. The entire family was their, minus their son living in NYC. We were celebrating Junes (the dad) birthday. Generally, the family all sits around and just jokes and then looks at me when I try to interject in broken Japanese. Sarcasm is rarely understood here, though this family gets it alright, they're pretty damn cool. Anyhow, I don't know how this came up, but I mentioned that I had not used the bidet yet, because, well it's just un-American. ;) At that point the family all laughs at me and everyone starts to individually express their methods of cleaning and then laughing at each other for wiping their asses differently! See...I bring people together! So one person says "paper, water, paper", only to be corrected with "water and then paper". At this point they all turn to me and suggest that I go ahead and try it out, pointing to the bathroom that is connected to the kitchen/living room and only about 4 feet away from the table where we are all sitting. I'm like, "oh hell naa!" but with much prodding I acquiesce. Okay, so I didn't have to use the bathroom but I will admit that the water is quite warm. I didn't know how to turn it off though, so that took a little while unfortunately.
When I walk out they're all waiting and looking at me wide-eyed as if to say..."so, how was it?" Two thumbs up and they all die laughing. And I agree with the men, "definitely kami-mizu-kami".
I'm writing from the fifth floor bedroom in a house in Suitengumae (sweet•in•goo•ma•eh) where the Takahashi family has taken me in as their newest gaijin son. They're awesome!!! Kayoko, the mom or okasan just went with me to get a cellphone. I had been three times previously, but with no luck - first docomo, then softbank and then au. Softbank is what finally worked...somehow, it's still a mystery to me.
Things here are strange/unbelievably difficult, but if you can laugh at your inability to communicate then you can make it. I had dinner last night with my newest family. The entire family was their, minus their son living in NYC. We were celebrating Junes (the dad) birthday. Generally, the family all sits around and just jokes and then looks at me when I try to interject in broken Japanese. Sarcasm is rarely understood here, though this family gets it alright, they're pretty damn cool. Anyhow, I don't know how this came up, but I mentioned that I had not used the bidet yet, because, well it's just un-American. ;) At that point the family all laughs at me and everyone starts to individually express their methods of cleaning and then laughing at each other for wiping their asses differently! See...I bring people together! So one person says "paper, water, paper", only to be corrected with "water and then paper". At this point they all turn to me and suggest that I go ahead and try it out, pointing to the bathroom that is connected to the kitchen/living room and only about 4 feet away from the table where we are all sitting. I'm like, "oh hell naa!" but with much prodding I acquiesce. Okay, so I didn't have to use the bathroom but I will admit that the water is quite warm. I didn't know how to turn it off though, so that took a little while unfortunately.
When I walk out they're all waiting and looking at me wide-eyed as if to say..."so, how was it?" Two thumbs up and they all die laughing. And I agree with the men, "definitely kami-mizu-kami".
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