DIARY
Here's where I'll store random thoughts and experiences as they happen. I doubt this will be a daily event, but maybe sometimes when I'm feeling especially creative, or just a lot of stuff is happening, I can make my postings fairly regular. Stay tuned.
At play amongst the corpses...
07/03/00
Today wasn't the first day I spent several hours at the beach looking at dead things.In fact, I've gone down the beach and witnessed all kinds of carnage. I've seen beched dolphins and sea turtles, hordes of starfish and snails, various shapes and colors of fish, squid, octopi... but this time, I was surrounded by the bodies of terrestrial creatures: frogs, butterflies, dragonflies, beetles, and birds. There had been a fairly strong rainstorm the day before. Wind puummelled the town, and rain poured from the sky. I imagine many of the creatures were caught in run off, or blown out to sea, where they perished in the salt water. It was now a day or so after the storm when the bodies were washing ashore.
I know this sounds disgusting, and the frogs and birds at various forms of decay were quite gross. But the insects were amazing. There, spread out in the sand before you, were dozens of different kinds of insects. Dozens of different shapes and colors. If you went down there with the intention of gather (water-laden) specimens, you could have amassed quite a representative collection of the area's insect life. You had swallowtail butterlies, various shapes and sizes of draginflies, ladybugs, kabutomushi, kuwagatamushi, and dozens of species of beetle. The bettes were what interested me the most. The colors on some of them. There were all sorts of metallic greens, blues, and purples. There was one large kind that literally glowed from head to toe. It had a oily iridesence, giving off glints of color and metallic sheen depending of how the light reflected off it's body. It was perhaps one of the most spectacular insects I have ever seen (wouldn't want one crawling on my leg, but it sure was a pretty thing... colorwise). All of the iridesence reminded me of the Native American jewellery of Central and South America, where instead of gemstones or precious metals, they would often use the metallic green and purple shells of beetles. Fascinating stuff!
So, I spent a couple of hours wandering the beach, stopping every few feet to sift through the masses of dead insects. I think the old men fishing and the various other people walking the beach though I had a mental problem of some kind. Maybe I do, but I was just stopping and taking a careful look at what was around me... and coming back with some pretty amazing observations. Yeah me!
Grading: a lesson in the art of evasion
07/05/00
She has a way of looking at me. Sometimes I'm busy, sometimes
I just appear to be. But the Head English teacher seems to have
no problem giving me work no matter what I'm doing. She goes
about it in an interesting way though. It all starts with her
look. She'll be sitting at her desk, which, since April and all
of the personnel and offices changes, is now coveniently located
directly beside my desk. I'll be typing away, or rummaging
through papers, or drawing flashcards, or making a poster, and
she'll slow down. She'll come to a halt in whatever she is doing,
stop, and slowly look over at me. I try not to meet her eyes.
She'll gaze at me for a minute, as if gauging whether or not to
do something. She'll turn back and go about her work. A minute
later, she'll repeat her actions. It will look like she has
something to say. Quite often, if I am not in the middle of
anything and truly have the time to help her out, I pop the
question, "Can I help you?" But if I am engrossed in
some project, or helping some other teacher, she'll inadvertantly
poke her head in eventually and make her request. With my head
English teacher, however, it's rarely a request. She's a lovely
lady, don't get me wrong. I really like her and I think the way
she goes about this is sweet, but I have been driven up the wall
sometimes by my inability to refuse. EVERY time she says,
"Mr. Chris, help me?" or, "Mr. Chris, grade these
papers?", I can't turn her down. So the question comes up,
how can I evade her? How can I keep from cracking open that red
pen and inking all over the "What's your favorite?"
Worksheet. 'What's your favorite animal, Emi-san?' "I like
dolphin." 'Taro-kun?' "It's cat." 'Yuka-san?'
"I like bog." Ugh!
I've feigned important projects. I've suddenly remembered
afternoon appointments. I've willingly rushed into meetings with
teachers from the elementary schools (another story altogether!).
I've come up with excuses, but the real problem is, I don't think
I can refuse her commands. As much as I don't like checking
papers, I know the Head English teacher sees a lot more of them
than I do, and she's probably just as sick of them. She and the
other English teacher are extremely overworked this year, so, as
much as I DON'T want to, I should help he out. Ugh!
I'll just keep doing what I've been doing... politely trying to
squirm out of one of my job responsibilities, but answer up
whenever I hear her say, "Mr. Chris" in her distinctive
tone... or whenever she looks at me that way.
Star-crossed lovers... Tanabata
07/07/00
Once a year, on July 7th, the stars Vega and Altaire meet in the sky. This celestial event has long been the center of a Japanese summer festival called Tanabata. It's not a national holiday, but a day where the country observes traditional customs. The central custom associated with this festival is the writing of wishes. It's a very auspicious time, where lovers separated for an entire year can come together in happiness. Therefore, people fold origami paper into various shapes, or take decorative pieces of washi (traditional hand-made paper), or even construction paper, and they write down a wish or a dream. Quite often they relate to love, relationships, money, health... areas where you want success and good fortune. You then attach a piece of string or ribbon and you tie it to a bamboo branch. There branches can be found in yards, at schools, and in public buildings around Japan. The babmboo has dried, making a nice gentle rustle as the wind blows through the crisp leaves. The slightest wind also covers the branch with a flurry of color, as all of the folded or decorated paper swings in the breeze. Tanabata is primarily observed by children, or in families.
This year, the art club organized to observe Tanabata at Taiyo Junior High School. Mrs. Yamamoto, the head teacher and one of the school's art teachers, helped the girls and boys of the art club feld a large branch of bamboo. Everyone wrote thier wishes on pices of bright construction paper. (I wrote that I wanted to improve my Japanese!) Then, on July 6, the art club tied on all of the paper wishes and stood the bamboo beside the school. It stood there ahd fluttered for several days, and looked very nice.
Tai-fuu, Scourge of the Pacific!
07/08/00
No! It's not what you call a ripping night out in
Bangkok! That's Japanese for 'typhoon' (funny how closely our
adaptation of a Japanese word mimics the original, huh?), or more
simply put, and literally translated, "BIG WIND". Now,
I bet you're wondering why I am writing this poor excuse of a
composition about the cyclonic scourge of the Pacific... the
Asian Hurricane... the Japanese 'divine wind'... It's because I
found out late yesterday afternoon that one was headed right for
my town. Yikes! That'll wake you up. Directly in between 5th and
6th periods, during what is normally a 10-minute break where
teachers knock back shots of "American Coffee",
frantically run off hundreds of photocopies, catch a cat nap, and
answer the questions of the ever-inquisitive, ever-disillusioned,
youngsters roaming the halls, we had an emergency meeting. I was
busy writing something on my computer (or shopping on-line) and
didn't notice that it actually was a meeting until about 3
minutes into the affair. I heard the occasional mention of 'taifu'.
I didn't jump to any conclusions and went back to my musings on
my digitized thinking machine, having decided to look up
variations of taifu-sounding words on my word-tank later
that evening. After the meeting, with her typical flair, the head
English teacher turned towards me and told me that all club
activites for the afternoon were cancelled because the kids had
to get home ahead of the typhoon. It took a minute for the news
to sink in. I went to look at the newspaper, and, lo-and-behold,
there was the swirling spiral, complete with its little, black
eye, staring up at me from the weather column. After school, I
wrapped up what I was doing and scurried home, leaving behind a
mess of teachers and quite a few of those students who were
supposed to be high-tailing it home. I was a bit concerned that
the folks were staying at school as if nothing was unusual, but
then figured it was each man for himself, so I booked it home.
The evening proved to be nothing of note... just windy and moist.
I was disappointed.
I even ventured out to join some friends for some videos. I
figured that if I was going to be housebound, I'd take an
apartment full of friends to my creaky, old, oceanside,
fourth-floor abode. Nothing had really happened by the time our
party broke up. Nothing apart from rain. I drove back to my
apartment and found nothing apart from the normal until I
realized that I was driving through standing water that reached
the bottom of my car doors. I panicked just a little, felt the
floor of my car (dry as a bone) and drove on, ever-so-slowly. It
wasn't until after I got through the standing water that I
remembered the sizable dip in the terrain that lay ahead of me.
Fearing the complete submersion of my automobile (poor little
guy!), I turned around, waded through the water, and went home by
the main road. When I got to my apartment, I was far from tired
so I headed back to the other side of that dip in the terrain. I
was expecting a huge pool of water, but, it was fine... the road
was passable. I was disappointed.
I got my adrenaline rush when the wind woke me at 9:00 am. The
rain was pouring, the wind was whipping this was and that, and my
apartment, the crumbling echelon of 1960s cement architecture
that it is, was swaying just enough for you to notice. I turned
on the TV and found out that an hour before, the eye of the
typhoon had passed off the coast of Choshi, a city on a peninsula
in Chiba prefecture to the south that juts out into the sea. That
would make the storm center very close to my neck of the woods.
It was skirting the coast, whipping wind and waves and water
towards the shore. There wasn't much to do, so, I went back to my
futon and went to bed. When I woke up, all I saw was a cloudy,
breezy, windy landscape. No flooding. No carnage. No buildings
ripped asunder (although, it probably would have been mine had
any buildings sustained damage). To put it bluntly, I was
disappointed.
Mother Nature, albeit a Japanese one, had directed her full fury
at me, and it trickled out and didn't do much more that scream a
lot. I know I would have been terrified if a truly horrific
typhoon, like the super typhoons that hit China and Vietnam and
kill millions, hit my little town. But still, I had this image. I
had gotten myself worked up for a grand and spectacular show of
nature's raw power, and very little happened. I guess there are
some let-downs in life that are things to be thankful for.
Tobaccoville
07/09/00
I am even more convinced that I am living in the Japanese version of my 'beloved' hometown in southside Virginia. Back in the Old Dominion, on the road from Richmond, whether you pass through Amelia or Powhatan counties, you can't help but notice the signs pointing to Tobaccoville. The town, which isn't much, is a sign of just how important that yellow-leaved crop is to my home region's economy. I'm from Tobacco country, and apparently, I've landed right in the midst of Japan's own Tobaccoville. Taiyo is, quite obviously, a farming village. Where there isn't a house, every plot of land without an impossible countour or incline, as oddly-shaped as it may be, is filled with straight rows of some variety of cultivar. Although I usually pass it all in a blur, whizzing down the tiny roads in my little doom-mobile... on wings of thunder... I have noticed that a large percentage of the fields are filled with an oddly familiar, yet alien, yellow-leaved crop. It is tobacco. There's no doubt about that. When I presented my self introductions at various schools and organizations last fall and showed the kids a photo that I took of a tobacco plant near my hometown, I was expecting oohs and aahs. Instead, they all told me that tobacco was grown in this very village. I felt deflated.
I say this tobacco-like plant is alien because it bears very
little resemblence to the plants back home. It's tall, and its
leaves are large and yellow, but none seem to have flowers. The
leaves are also more spaced out on the stems, curving in a large
arc and coming to a definate point... not the flat, rounded
leaves of Virginia and North Carolina tobacco. Perhaps it is some
sort of Asian cultivar? The Japanese plants look pristine. Their
American equivalents often look a bit wilted and sun-bleached,
and they tend to have holes in their leaves, as well. These are
usually chewed out by some variety of horned tobacco worm or
borer or something hideous-looking with an equally offensive
name. The Japanese plants seem to have none of the ailments that
plague the American variety. In a land where even the apple that
is the slightest curve away from normalcy or perfection never
sees the inside of a regular supermarket, these Japanese tobacco
plants are probably sprayed heavily with pesticide and
herbicides. The Japanese do like their standards of conformity,
even if it is entirely due to saturating the plant with
checmicals, or involves hand polishing each piece of produce.
You've heard the stories of the hops and barley fed,
hand-massaged cattle that are slaughtered to make Kobe beef,
haven't you?
Currently, about one field out of 5 here in Taiyo is filled with
tobacco, and the rich, sandy soil seems to be popping out bumper
crops.
Taiyo is so different from my town in Southside Virginia, but there are also quite a few things that are the same.
Battle-scarred Warrior
07/12/00
I got in my car this morning, turned the key, and got ready to zoom off to school (I was late as usual). As I pulled off from my stairwell, I noticed something shiny and black on the ground near the steps. I stopped the car, reversed, left it idling, and got out to see if it was what I thought it was. I was right: a kabutomushi.
These are the king of all Japanese insects -- big, shiny, black beetles with horns protruding from the top of their heads and jutting up from their backs. They use these suckers to inflicting pain on potential rivals during mating. Survival of the fittest you know. I looked at the guy sitting quietly by the steps. I saw that he wasn't in good shape. The little horn atop his thorax was broken, and he had what looked like a puncture wound just above his head. Other than that, he was a marvelous specimen... with his spiked, bark-gripping legs outstreched, he could have rivaled my outstretched hand. His eyes looked a little cloudy, and he was very lethargic. He'd failed in a battle over a plain-looking female (picture a scarab and you've got the female), or some sort of territorial skrimish where he was knocked out of a tree. Maybe he was hot by a car when he was flying... whatever the case, he was a battle scarred veteran of some horrendous affair, so I moved him out of the parking lot and put him under the cover of the big hydrangea bush that was growing on one side of my stairwell.
The kids at the elementary schools that I have been vsiiting all spring have showed me the spoils of their foraging through the trees during lunch break and before and after school. I have encountered some breathtaking insects... huge beetles cling to children's shirts... sitting pretty in eleborate cages, with slices of melon and orange to kep them happy. It's amazing how the kabutomushi has such a powerful hold of the psyche of Japanese school children. So many of them are fascinated by the creatures, and they show up in songs, dances, stories, and art. There is even a character in the internationally infamous Pokemon animated TV series that is a version of a kabutomushi. If I see the kabutomushi as the king of Japanese insects, then the kuwagatamushi is the villain.
"Villain" is a bad term to affix to the kuwagatamushi. But comapred to the horns that crown the kabutomushi, the kuwagata has a fiendish appearance. The closest comparison I can give is the stag beetle. The kuwagata has two extremely large pinchers jutting out each side of its head. They are black, like the kabutomushi, and can grow to roughly equal size. They seem much more agressive, or at least appear that way. The times I've encountered them, they have been timid, but very alert and ready to defend themselves. Kabutomushi just sort of mind their own business. The females are smaller, and don't have the large pinchers. But the males, as they get larger, their bodies take on more of a curve. Because of the angle of the pinchers, the males have to cock back their heads to keep the pinchers from dragging the ground. This gives them the appearance of rearing to strike, and if a particularly large male specimen were scurrying towards me, I think I would move. Perhaps kuwgata have a right to be so tempermental: they are extremely rare, and very valuable. When I was in Tokyo this spring, one of the big department stores was having a sale/exhibit of beetles. They had beetles from all over the place, but also had some larva and fully-grown kuwagata. They were fetching fancy prices... well over $100 and $200 for a single beetle. To provide the urban beetle enthusiast with a terrarium pet, collectors will come out into the country (ala Taiyo Village) and collect wild specimens. This has helped reduce the local population. I've seen quite a few of the little buggers around my apartment, but they have all been rather small specimens. The kabutomushi are rather commonplace, and are even sold up the street from me in a little store for about $4 a pop.
By the time I returned to the apartment that evening, the kabutomushi was still sitting under the hydrangea bush. He had expired sometime during the day. Hopefully he lived a full and fertile life, but even if he didn't, he was a beautiful and powerful animal, and I appreciate his letting me see him up close.
Soothed by a cup
07/14/00
It is amazing how one cup of tea can soothe the soul. I had been pent up and stressed today. After finishing practice with some third-year students for their English interview exam next week, I joined some teachers and students and we visited the library. There, we sat down, and the one little first year girl in the tea ceremony club served us up some piping hot maccha. The soothing green liquid. The froth. The ornate colors and designs of the tea cup. The gentel curves as it rests in the hand. The warmth. I lost everything which worried me as I sipped the warm froth. I focused on the swirls in the glaze at the bottom of my cup -- a brilliant spiral of turquoise and lavender and green. By the time I was done, I was completely relaxed. Tea Ceremony truly is a form of meditation.
Colors of Summer
07/17/00
Hitachi-Naka rice fields in the moonlight. That's what did it
for me. Last night, I was driving home from a friend's house, a
fellow JET who is getting ready to return to America after
teaching at an academic high school for 2 years. It was early
evening, or perhaps later. The sun had finished setting and night
was descending. I didn't have very much on my mind, but suddenly,
I was taken completely by surprise by the view out of the
passenger side window.
I had just come down a decline from a rather commercial strecth
of the Mito suburb of Hitachi-naka, in actuality an amalgamation
of two separate cities (Katsuta and Naka-Minato) into one
municipality in order to get more money from the national
government. I was approaching the river and Hitachi-naka's border
with Oarai Town (literally translated as "Big Wash").
The image that caught my attention was perhaps one of the most
riveting I've EVER seen in Japan.
Rice fields were running along the left side of the road. Rice is
such a vivid green at this time of year -- the most vivid and
purest shade of green I've encountered. In the fading light of
evening, it took about an even more luminescent hue. The lack of
light also made all of the rice plants blend together into a
magnificent green carpet. Hovering above this green mass was a
light and misty fog. It added to the glow of the rice. Beyond the
rice fields, and running the length of them, was a hill covered
with sugi, or Japanese cedars. At this time of day, they
were a shade of darkest blue... almost black. Above them was a
navy blue sky filled with the amber glow of a newly risen moon.
The moon itself shone peach, just above the black treetops. The
colors... the shapes and angles... the essence of the scene...
all were ideal, and all were possible only on a cool and humid
summer evening.
My Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day!
07/21/00
Today wasn't one of my better days. I awoke feeling a bit groggy, but trudged off to work nonetheless. I was late. I've been having trouble getting to work on time, and Friday was very bad for me. Thursday was a holiday (Umi no Hi -- Ocean Day!), so I was not in the mood to head back to work the next day... especially to a day of sitting in the Board of Education all day, doing nothing (with no classes during summer vacation, my work days are filled with whatever I can find to fill them--Ugh!). Anyway, my morning was fine, apart from being told I had to work every day duringt he summer. I had planned on representing the JET support group, AJET, at the orientation for new JETs in Tokyo. My Board of Education told me that I could go, but I would have to use my paid vacation. That sort of ruffled my feathers, and I KNEW I wasn't going to spend precious nenkyuu (paid vacation) on a day trip to TOKYO!
Anyway, I went home for lunch, and that's when I encountered a first! I was walking up my stairwell, and as I rounded the corner on the third-floor landing, I was hit by the scent of human feces. I saw a pornographic comic book lying on the ground, covering up some foul slew that someone had 'dumped' on the stairs. I held back my disgust, stepped over the mess, and continued up to my apartment. On the fourth floor landing, just before getting to my apartment, I found more pornographic cominc books and some empty beer bottles. None of this stuff had been there when I left for work that morning, so during the course of the morning hours, some one, or some people, had come up my uninhabited stairwell, had fun, and relieved themselves before moving on their merry way. I felt like I had been targeted, victimized, and violated. I wa svery unhappy.
The Board of Education set to work rectifying the health violation on my stairwell in the afternoon. I went to the Junior High School to try to set to work on some internet stuff I had been meaning to do. I was going to seize the afternoon. Unfortunately, someone was using the internet. Every desk at my school has internet connection, but, the catch us, there is only one line into the school. This person stayed on all day, and I was fuming. Little did I realize, much of the fuming was from my rising temperature. I was coming down with a fever. By the end of the school day, I felt drained. My limbs were aching, my throat was raw and burning, and I was running a pretty high temperature. This sort of threw a monkey wrench into my plans to rendezvous with some out-of-town friends in Tokyo that evening. I grumbled my way out to the car, and barely made it back to the apartment after running an emergency set of errands to pick up jucie, comfort foods, and videos. I spent the night curled up in my apartment, upset over the days events, sweating and uncomfortable...
All of us have days like this, don't we?