Watch this sketch. It's so funny.
"I never touch prawns - do you know they hang around sewage outlet pipes treading water with their mouths open!"
Monday, 13 November 2006
Thoughts of life, love and family
This is just going to be a stream-of-consciousness post. I haven’t felt the inspiration to write a proper story in a long time. All haiku production has ground to a halt. Basically, it seems my brain has turned to jelly now that I am in the middle of exam season.
This was proven yesterday when I totally spaced out on the time of my yoga lesson. I managed to arrive just on time. I followed the teacher into the room in a grey and black flash, hoping against hope that I hadn’t put my shorts on inside out or back to front.
Time keeping is incredibly important in Japan. I’m compulsive about it, as anyone who has visited me here will tell you. As a foreigner, I feel I have to be even more punctual than the Japanese. It’s like every time I’m late I’m compounding the ‘lazy, unreliable foreigner’ stereotype. That I would fail to be early for something was a clear sign of how head-wrecked and exam-fatigued I am.
Now don’t go worrying about me. It’s not like I’ve become such a dedicated and diligent student that I’m working myself into the ground. I’ve still been finding plenty of ways to skive off.
Last Saturday, I went to the movies. I saw 涙そうそう (Nada Sousou). It’s a Japanese movie starring Tsumabuki Satoshi, a popular young actor here.
The story is simple: A brother and his stepsister are left without parents. His grandmother on a small Okinawan island raises them. The young boy has promised his dying mother that he will look after his little sister. As he becomes a man he takes on the role of father figure. But the focus of the movie is the conflicting types of love they come to feel for each other.
Don’t worry, it’s not at all salacious. It’s a pure and moving character study.
The movie has lots of interesting themes: living for yourself versus living for others, the repression and expression of emotion, accepting or running away from responsibility. Simply put, it’s all about life, love and family.
There’s a beautiful scene at the end of the movie where the grandmother and stepsister are sitting on an idyllic, tropical beach looking out at the crystal ocean. The girl is upset and the granny talks about how we are each given a life. None of us knows how long we’ll be given. Some lives are long and others are short. It’s what we do with the time we have and how we touch the people around us that count. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
All in all, the philosophy of the movie matched very well with my blog motto. I highly recommend it if it ever comes to an art-house cinema near you.
Because I’m an expat and because my family and many friends are far away, I always seem to be overly affected by such emotional stories. Even a week later I’m still mulling over the ideas in the film.
To make matters worse, last night I sat in and watched ‘Billy Elliot’ on video. It covered much of the same ground, with a bit of ‘always be true to yourself’ thrown in for good measure.
So along with an addled brain I now have a punch-drunk heart. I’m a wreck.
I guess I should also give a quick weather report. I’ve complained often enough in these pages about how terrible the weather has been this year. Well for the last two weeks the weather has been glorious. Late autumn slash early winter is the best time of the year in Japan.
The sky is high, blue and cloudless. The air is clear and brisk. And a pale winter sun takes the bite out of the breeze. It’s a walker’s paradise. Coupled with the reds, browns and yellows of the changing leaves, I can honestly take back all the nasty things I have said about the Japanese climate. Mother Nature is being good to us once again.
Well that’s all for this status report. I hope I’ll be able to think of interesting things to say again when all the tests are over.
This was proven yesterday when I totally spaced out on the time of my yoga lesson. I managed to arrive just on time. I followed the teacher into the room in a grey and black flash, hoping against hope that I hadn’t put my shorts on inside out or back to front.
Time keeping is incredibly important in Japan. I’m compulsive about it, as anyone who has visited me here will tell you. As a foreigner, I feel I have to be even more punctual than the Japanese. It’s like every time I’m late I’m compounding the ‘lazy, unreliable foreigner’ stereotype. That I would fail to be early for something was a clear sign of how head-wrecked and exam-fatigued I am.
Now don’t go worrying about me. It’s not like I’ve become such a dedicated and diligent student that I’m working myself into the ground. I’ve still been finding plenty of ways to skive off.
Last Saturday, I went to the movies. I saw 涙そうそう (Nada Sousou). It’s a Japanese movie starring Tsumabuki Satoshi, a popular young actor here.
The story is simple: A brother and his stepsister are left without parents. His grandmother on a small Okinawan island raises them. The young boy has promised his dying mother that he will look after his little sister. As he becomes a man he takes on the role of father figure. But the focus of the movie is the conflicting types of love they come to feel for each other.
Don’t worry, it’s not at all salacious. It’s a pure and moving character study.
The movie has lots of interesting themes: living for yourself versus living for others, the repression and expression of emotion, accepting or running away from responsibility. Simply put, it’s all about life, love and family.
There’s a beautiful scene at the end of the movie where the grandmother and stepsister are sitting on an idyllic, tropical beach looking out at the crystal ocean. The girl is upset and the granny talks about how we are each given a life. None of us knows how long we’ll be given. Some lives are long and others are short. It’s what we do with the time we have and how we touch the people around us that count. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
All in all, the philosophy of the movie matched very well with my blog motto. I highly recommend it if it ever comes to an art-house cinema near you.
Because I’m an expat and because my family and many friends are far away, I always seem to be overly affected by such emotional stories. Even a week later I’m still mulling over the ideas in the film.
To make matters worse, last night I sat in and watched ‘Billy Elliot’ on video. It covered much of the same ground, with a bit of ‘always be true to yourself’ thrown in for good measure.
So along with an addled brain I now have a punch-drunk heart. I’m a wreck.
I guess I should also give a quick weather report. I’ve complained often enough in these pages about how terrible the weather has been this year. Well for the last two weeks the weather has been glorious. Late autumn slash early winter is the best time of the year in Japan.
The sky is high, blue and cloudless. The air is clear and brisk. And a pale winter sun takes the bite out of the breeze. It’s a walker’s paradise. Coupled with the reds, browns and yellows of the changing leaves, I can honestly take back all the nasty things I have said about the Japanese climate. Mother Nature is being good to us once again.
Well that’s all for this status report. I hope I’ll be able to think of interesting things to say again when all the tests are over.
Monday, 6 November 2006
What's this ad for?
This is the next installment in our guessing game 'What the heck is this train poster all about?' Can you guess what this cheery ad is for? I bet you'll be surprised to know it's for...
HIV & AIDS testing.
I'm still puzzling over what they're trying to communicate to us. The message is basically that you can get a HIV / AIDS test for free at your local clinic. It's anonymous and quick and the results are completely private.
But what all this has to do with a cuddly cow hand puppet is a bit beyond me.
None the less, I'm very happy to see such an ad up in the trains at all.
In Japan, social issues like HIV / AIDS, drug use, sexuality, and so on are almost never spoken about. In fact, their existence is largely denied. Ask a passer-by on the street, and I bet most would say there were no people in Japan living with HIV /AIDS at all. I don't know the statistics, but I'm sure that the rate of infection is no different to any other developed country.
Maybe the idea of having the person dressed in the tradtional puppeteer all-black is to show that the issue needs to come out of the shadows, out into the open.
In short, the ad is either inspired or completely rubbish. I haven't decided yet.
HIV & AIDS testing.
I'm still puzzling over what they're trying to communicate to us. The message is basically that you can get a HIV / AIDS test for free at your local clinic. It's anonymous and quick and the results are completely private.
But what all this has to do with a cuddly cow hand puppet is a bit beyond me.
None the less, I'm very happy to see such an ad up in the trains at all.
In Japan, social issues like HIV / AIDS, drug use, sexuality, and so on are almost never spoken about. In fact, their existence is largely denied. Ask a passer-by on the street, and I bet most would say there were no people in Japan living with HIV /AIDS at all. I don't know the statistics, but I'm sure that the rate of infection is no different to any other developed country.
Maybe the idea of having the person dressed in the tradtional puppeteer all-black is to show that the issue needs to come out of the shadows, out into the open.
In short, the ad is either inspired or completely rubbish. I haven't decided yet.
Ukai Chikutei Japanese restaurant
Last week I had one of the best restaurant experiences ever. I went to Ukai Chikutei Restaurant in the mountains west of Tokyo.
It's a beautiful restaurant complex set in a bamboo garden. Each private room is like it's own mini cottage. Weaving around the twenty or so cottages are little rivers, rock gardens and carp filled ponds.
It's decorated in the traditionally simple and elegant Japanese manner. Once in your room, kimono-clad staff scurry back and forth to your cottage serving dish upon amazing dish.
The chef kindly prepared an all-vegetarian banquet for us. It was a feast for all the senses. The main ingredient was matsutake - a very expensive, rare mushroom. It's succulent and juicy with a unique aroma and flavourful essence.
Each dish was like a work of art. I was taken aback by a baked chestnut in a shell made from noodles. It looked for the life of me like a real chestnut shell. I could only imagine the great skill the preparation of such a dish requires.
But I'm a simple lad at heart. For me, the piece de resistance was an assortment of vegetables in miso sauce, grilled on a magnolia leaf on a small charcoal grill brought to your table. The flavour is with me now as I type. It was that good.
Everything worked in harmony. We sat in the tatatmi room, excited at the arrival of each new creation. In between mouthfuls, we gazed at the moss covered waterwheel or artistcally backlit maple trees outside our window. And in the background delicate shamizen music accompanied our feast.
And even though it's a posh and elegant restaurant, because you have a private room, you completely relax and don't feel at all intimiated or uncomfortable.
If you ever come to Japan, I can't recommend this dining experience enough.
It's a beautiful restaurant complex set in a bamboo garden. Each private room is like it's own mini cottage. Weaving around the twenty or so cottages are little rivers, rock gardens and carp filled ponds.
It's decorated in the traditionally simple and elegant Japanese manner. Once in your room, kimono-clad staff scurry back and forth to your cottage serving dish upon amazing dish.
The chef kindly prepared an all-vegetarian banquet for us. It was a feast for all the senses. The main ingredient was matsutake - a very expensive, rare mushroom. It's succulent and juicy with a unique aroma and flavourful essence.
Each dish was like a work of art. I was taken aback by a baked chestnut in a shell made from noodles. It looked for the life of me like a real chestnut shell. I could only imagine the great skill the preparation of such a dish requires.
But I'm a simple lad at heart. For me, the piece de resistance was an assortment of vegetables in miso sauce, grilled on a magnolia leaf on a small charcoal grill brought to your table. The flavour is with me now as I type. It was that good.
Everything worked in harmony. We sat in the tatatmi room, excited at the arrival of each new creation. In between mouthfuls, we gazed at the moss covered waterwheel or artistcally backlit maple trees outside our window. And in the background delicate shamizen music accompanied our feast.
And even though it's a posh and elegant restaurant, because you have a private room, you completely relax and don't feel at all intimiated or uncomfortable.
If you ever come to Japan, I can't recommend this dining experience enough.
Sunday, 5 November 2006
Always label your containers!
A quick story that might make you laugh.
I'm determined not to catch cold again this year. To this end, for the past few weeks, I have been garlgling and cleaning out my nose with salt water. Basically you make a salty, body temperature solution and snort it. This cleans away mucus and germs or pollen that have attached themselves to your nasal cavity throughout the day.
Now in my house, I have two big jars. One is for salt and one is for sugar. They have different coloured lids but are not labelled. They sit happily beside each other in the cupboard. I think you can see where this story is going.
For the last three days, instead of cleaning out my nostrils, I have in fact been snorting snorting sugar. Or should I say diluted syrup!
I'm pretty sure this therapy is not to be receommended. In fact, I'm probably on the fast track to diabetes.
The moral of the story: Always label your jars.
I'm determined not to catch cold again this year. To this end, for the past few weeks, I have been garlgling and cleaning out my nose with salt water. Basically you make a salty, body temperature solution and snort it. This cleans away mucus and germs or pollen that have attached themselves to your nasal cavity throughout the day.
Now in my house, I have two big jars. One is for salt and one is for sugar. They have different coloured lids but are not labelled. They sit happily beside each other in the cupboard. I think you can see where this story is going.
For the last three days, instead of cleaning out my nostrils, I have in fact been snorting snorting sugar. Or should I say diluted syrup!
I'm pretty sure this therapy is not to be receommended. In fact, I'm probably on the fast track to diabetes.
The moral of the story: Always label your jars.
Ore ore sagi
The other day, I got terrible news from my student. She was caught out by a type of telephone fraud prevalent in Japan. It’s a scam that plays on three elements of Japanese life: The breakdown of the family unit, the traditional deference to authority, and the great importance of saving face and avoiding scandal.
It’s called 俺俺詐欺 (Ore ore sagi = ‘I... I...’ fraud)
The stories that the crooks use change every few months, but the underlying concepts remain the same.
A mother receives a phone call out of the blue. On the other end of the line, a young man pretends to be her son. He starts the call in a muffled voice saying, ‘I... I... I’m in big trouble.’ You can see how the crime gets its name.
The mother often panics and doesn’t question an unfamiliar voice. You have to remember that young Japanese men are renowned for being taciturn at the best of times. In any case, if she does query how he sounds, he can always put it down to emotion or to having to speak quietly and not be heard.
On top of all this, the gangsters really do their homework. They use school yearbooks and city registers to find out names, ages, residences, and so on. It’s not that hard to be tricked.
Next an authority figure will come on the line, often a supposed boss or police officer or the like. A Japanese woman of a certain age is almost pre-programmed to respect and trust superiors. It takes a strong character to show too much suspicion.
The panicked woman is now fully primed. The crooks play their trump card. They say that if she simply transfers a certain sum of money to such and such an account, the whole matter will be forgotten. Thus her son will avoid any damaging scandal and her family won’t lose face in public.
The sum of money is not to be sneezed at. Usually it comes to about 2 to 4 million yen (about 12,000 to 24,000 euro). This amount is not chosen at random. It represents the maximum ATM transfer you can make over one or two days. Once again, the gangs do their homework and target people who would have such quick funds available.
Now my poor student is no idiot. She’s an intelligent, experienced woman. But unfortunately she fits the ideal profile for such a fraud. She’s rich. She’s of an age where it’s difficult for her not to respect authority. And crucially her young son lives away from home. Like many young men he’s very lazy about keeping in touch. She wakes up every day worrying about him. And because he never calls her, she has no real idea what’s going on in his life.
They spun her a doozie of a yarn. Her ‘son’ said he’d borrowed some money from his company to buy stock. He was sure it would skyrocket and he’d make a killing. He planned to pay the company back and no one would be any the wiser. But the share price never rose, his boss found out, and now he was in deep trouble.
The supposed boss then came on the line. He said the son had always been a good and popular worker. They didn’t want to let one rash mistake ruin his whole career. The boss said that if she quickly reimbursed the company, they wouldn’t report the matter to the police and that would be that.
Now I’m sure you are all in disbelief at this stage and have lots of questions.
Like why didn’t she just call him back on his mobile or home phone? Of course the ‘son’said he had to stay at his company and that his boss wanted to listen in on all calls.
Or why didn’t the bank query such a large transfer? The thing is, they did. But my student was terrified that the story would turn out to be true. In that case, the bank would have no choice but to report the incident to the authorities, and her son’s future would be in tatters.
Or even why didn’t the police just trace the bank account and recover the money? Simply, the crooks usually buy bank account information from homeless people who no longer use it. As soon as the money is transferred, they close the account and the only trail leads to a plastic tent in some park or under some bridge.
These criminals are ingenious. If only they could use their powers for good.
So what do you think? Could this happen in your home country? Or is such a fraud only possible because of a rare combination of social conditions here in Japan.
I’d like to end on a happy note. My student has shown herself to be a positive and resilient person. Out of the shame and embarrassment, she has found some good. On hearing the terrible news, not one member of her family criticised her. In fact, her son deeply apologised for having fallen out of touch and for having contributed to the incident. My student feels that, though she lost a tonne of money, the closer bond her family now enjoys is worth every yen.
It’s called 俺俺詐欺 (Ore ore sagi = ‘I... I...’ fraud)
The stories that the crooks use change every few months, but the underlying concepts remain the same.
A mother receives a phone call out of the blue. On the other end of the line, a young man pretends to be her son. He starts the call in a muffled voice saying, ‘I... I... I’m in big trouble.’ You can see how the crime gets its name.
The mother often panics and doesn’t question an unfamiliar voice. You have to remember that young Japanese men are renowned for being taciturn at the best of times. In any case, if she does query how he sounds, he can always put it down to emotion or to having to speak quietly and not be heard.
On top of all this, the gangsters really do their homework. They use school yearbooks and city registers to find out names, ages, residences, and so on. It’s not that hard to be tricked.
Next an authority figure will come on the line, often a supposed boss or police officer or the like. A Japanese woman of a certain age is almost pre-programmed to respect and trust superiors. It takes a strong character to show too much suspicion.
The panicked woman is now fully primed. The crooks play their trump card. They say that if she simply transfers a certain sum of money to such and such an account, the whole matter will be forgotten. Thus her son will avoid any damaging scandal and her family won’t lose face in public.
The sum of money is not to be sneezed at. Usually it comes to about 2 to 4 million yen (about 12,000 to 24,000 euro). This amount is not chosen at random. It represents the maximum ATM transfer you can make over one or two days. Once again, the gangs do their homework and target people who would have such quick funds available.
Now my poor student is no idiot. She’s an intelligent, experienced woman. But unfortunately she fits the ideal profile for such a fraud. She’s rich. She’s of an age where it’s difficult for her not to respect authority. And crucially her young son lives away from home. Like many young men he’s very lazy about keeping in touch. She wakes up every day worrying about him. And because he never calls her, she has no real idea what’s going on in his life.
They spun her a doozie of a yarn. Her ‘son’ said he’d borrowed some money from his company to buy stock. He was sure it would skyrocket and he’d make a killing. He planned to pay the company back and no one would be any the wiser. But the share price never rose, his boss found out, and now he was in deep trouble.
The supposed boss then came on the line. He said the son had always been a good and popular worker. They didn’t want to let one rash mistake ruin his whole career. The boss said that if she quickly reimbursed the company, they wouldn’t report the matter to the police and that would be that.
Now I’m sure you are all in disbelief at this stage and have lots of questions.
Like why didn’t she just call him back on his mobile or home phone? Of course the ‘son’said he had to stay at his company and that his boss wanted to listen in on all calls.
Or why didn’t the bank query such a large transfer? The thing is, they did. But my student was terrified that the story would turn out to be true. In that case, the bank would have no choice but to report the incident to the authorities, and her son’s future would be in tatters.
Or even why didn’t the police just trace the bank account and recover the money? Simply, the crooks usually buy bank account information from homeless people who no longer use it. As soon as the money is transferred, they close the account and the only trail leads to a plastic tent in some park or under some bridge.
These criminals are ingenious. If only they could use their powers for good.
So what do you think? Could this happen in your home country? Or is such a fraud only possible because of a rare combination of social conditions here in Japan.
I’d like to end on a happy note. My student has shown herself to be a positive and resilient person. Out of the shame and embarrassment, she has found some good. On hearing the terrible news, not one member of her family criticised her. In fact, her son deeply apologised for having fallen out of touch and for having contributed to the incident. My student feels that, though she lost a tonne of money, the closer bond her family now enjoys is worth every yen.
A long awaited toilet update
It has been brought to my attention that I haven’t been blogging up my usual storm. Sorry about that.
My finals start next week and run until the big test on December 3rd. So Japanese has been crazy. On top of this, I had a bunch of yoga lesson tickets that had to be used before the beginning of November. So if I haven’t been working or studying, I’ve had to be in yoga. I hope that things will go a little bit back to normal from now on.
Japanese has been going pretty poorly. While everyone else in my class has seen their grades get better, mine have been getting worse. And this with me studying harder than ever. It’s looking bleak. Bleaker still is the fact that everyone in my school has received their examinee registration except me. Do you think the gods are trying to tell me not to bother, fall back off the wagon and just get sozzled until my bro arrives in December?
Having been so busy, essentials have falling by the wayside. By essentials I mean cooking, cleaning, laundry, that kind of thing. I’ve been eating out way too often, the dirty clothes pile is now taller than I am, and my flat is so dirty that I’m considering moving just to avoid cleaning it. If my bro were to arrive now, he’d have to choose between sleeping in the shower room or the toilet: the only two places that I’ve kept in order.
During my Internet silence, I’ve neglected to fill you in on so many toilet-related advances. Now is your chance to catch up.
Toto, the Mercedes Benz of conveniences, has gone all out. New toilet bowls are fully silicone-lined. No nasty business can stick to them... ever! They’re billed as the toilets you never have to clean. More exciting still, a new optional extra analyses your waste and prints out dietary and medical advice based on what you leave behind. Furthermore, this function studies your family’s patterns and modulates the electricity and water consumption accordingly. How cool is that! And what would all this set you back? A snip at 5,000 to 10,000 Euro.
Needless to say all their new toilets are fully automated. You don’t have to lift the lid or flush or anything. It’s all done by sensors. This is true of so many devices in Japan; doors, wash basins, ticket gates. It’s actually becoming a bit of a problem. Some scientists are trying to draw a link between the increased automation of Japanese society and the sky-rocketing levels of premature senility over here. Pretty scary.
So next time you see me, if I’m standing in front of a closed door with a confused look on my face, unable to use the door handle, I hope you’ll be sympathetic and understand my plight.
My finals start next week and run until the big test on December 3rd. So Japanese has been crazy. On top of this, I had a bunch of yoga lesson tickets that had to be used before the beginning of November. So if I haven’t been working or studying, I’ve had to be in yoga. I hope that things will go a little bit back to normal from now on.
Japanese has been going pretty poorly. While everyone else in my class has seen their grades get better, mine have been getting worse. And this with me studying harder than ever. It’s looking bleak. Bleaker still is the fact that everyone in my school has received their examinee registration except me. Do you think the gods are trying to tell me not to bother, fall back off the wagon and just get sozzled until my bro arrives in December?
Having been so busy, essentials have falling by the wayside. By essentials I mean cooking, cleaning, laundry, that kind of thing. I’ve been eating out way too often, the dirty clothes pile is now taller than I am, and my flat is so dirty that I’m considering moving just to avoid cleaning it. If my bro were to arrive now, he’d have to choose between sleeping in the shower room or the toilet: the only two places that I’ve kept in order.
During my Internet silence, I’ve neglected to fill you in on so many toilet-related advances. Now is your chance to catch up.
Toto, the Mercedes Benz of conveniences, has gone all out. New toilet bowls are fully silicone-lined. No nasty business can stick to them... ever! They’re billed as the toilets you never have to clean. More exciting still, a new optional extra analyses your waste and prints out dietary and medical advice based on what you leave behind. Furthermore, this function studies your family’s patterns and modulates the electricity and water consumption accordingly. How cool is that! And what would all this set you back? A snip at 5,000 to 10,000 Euro.
Needless to say all their new toilets are fully automated. You don’t have to lift the lid or flush or anything. It’s all done by sensors. This is true of so many devices in Japan; doors, wash basins, ticket gates. It’s actually becoming a bit of a problem. Some scientists are trying to draw a link between the increased automation of Japanese society and the sky-rocketing levels of premature senility over here. Pretty scary.
So next time you see me, if I’m standing in front of a closed door with a confused look on my face, unable to use the door handle, I hope you’ll be sympathetic and understand my plight.
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