Sometimes I get to mark students’ tests or assignments. Sometimes they make me laugh, sometimes they make me cry. Sometimes they do both. These gems were short opinion essays that the kids had to write in response to statements provided by the teacher. It was interesting to see how varied the opinions were in a group that tries so desperately to be homogeneous. For example, one statement said that students should have to study English. One student agreed, for very good reasons:
A foreigner meet when is of great use.
A foreigner country go when is of great use.
English talk if pleasant.
. . . while other students disagreed for equally sound reasons:
we are Japanese.
foo me difficult.
I got tired.
I can’t argue with that. I can’t argue with this one either, mostly ‘cause I don’t know what it means:
Age a limit is nesessity gana I.
Age a limit ga naka tamo chamge.
And then there’s always got to be one cocky kid:
to learn is Enghish is very easy.
Full points for the positive attitude. No points for the h.
Technological Breakthroughs
Hmm. I hope that no one is reading this expecting to learn something exciting about the space program. Actually, I just found out how to add images, so now I can post the pictures that should have accompanied my previous ramblings. Wooooo.
First up: festivals
Streamers . . .
Lanterns . . .
Shrines and vendors . . .
. . . and the main event, Kagura.
And just for fun, what by the light of the camera flash turned out to be two baby boars in a cage in the dark alley. Definitely uncute, but apparently delicious enough that people stop to pick them up if they hit them or find them dead in the road. One teacher thoughtfully brought a frozen one into school to share and spent the morning in the little staffroom kitchenette using a hacksaw to divvy it up.
Very generous, but I think I’ll stick to tofu.
First up: festivals
Streamers . . .
Lanterns . . .
Shrines and vendors . . .
. . . and the main event, Kagura.
And just for fun, what by the light of the camera flash turned out to be two baby boars in a cage in the dark alley. Definitely uncute, but apparently delicious enough that people stop to pick them up if they hit them or find them dead in the road. One teacher thoughtfully brought a frozen one into school to share and spent the morning in the little staffroom kitchenette using a hacksaw to divvy it up.Very generous, but I think I’ll stick to tofu.
Representin' Waki
The previously mentioned streamers, lanterns, vendors, and Kagura-based festivities took place in my neighbourhood (Waki-Cho) last night. I attended last year, but only for a brief period of time, and after partying(read: drinking) for several hours beforehand. As a result, I have spent the past year trying to find my way back to the shrine, and I failed miserably. Granted, my memory of it was hazy, as the last time I was there it was pitch black, cold, raining, and we were all drunk. Still, I knew that the shrine was just on the other side of the main road from my house, and easily within walking distance. I’m not sure how many hours I have spent wandering through the rabbit-warren of houses looking for the shrine; I even resorted to using Google Earth to see if I could find it from space since I failed on foot, but to no avail. I joked that it had vanished, and only reappeared on special occasions, and last night totally supports that theory. Once the sun had set and the creepy hush that is night-time in the countryside had descended, I followed the strings of lanterns and faint sounds of drums and flutes through the labyrinth of squat houses and family graves, and found myself at the shrine again.
It was pretty surreal. I think the festival atmosphere is like that anyway, but it felt particularly Twilight Zone-esque after following the strange music through dark and deserted streets, alone and totally stoned on Japanese cold medicine (no joke, I’ve been walking into things, falling asleep at my desk, and I’m not really sure I should be driving . . .). The Kagura was fascinating as always, and after I had grown tired and cold, I followed the lanterns back to the real world, and couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever find the shrine again. Sudden grunting and clanging sounds from the shadows of a house brought me sharply back to reality as I neared the lights of the main road. Someone has a baby boar (not a pig, this beast has tusks) in a cage in the alley. I’d make some crack about weird pets, but it’s probably no such thing.
It’s probably dinner.
It was pretty surreal. I think the festival atmosphere is like that anyway, but it felt particularly Twilight Zone-esque after following the strange music through dark and deserted streets, alone and totally stoned on Japanese cold medicine (no joke, I’ve been walking into things, falling asleep at my desk, and I’m not really sure I should be driving . . .). The Kagura was fascinating as always, and after I had grown tired and cold, I followed the lanterns back to the real world, and couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever find the shrine again. Sudden grunting and clanging sounds from the shadows of a house brought me sharply back to reality as I neared the lights of the main road. Someone has a baby boar (not a pig, this beast has tusks) in a cage in the alley. I’d make some crack about weird pets, but it’s probably no such thing.
It’s probably dinner.
Turning Japanese . . .
You know you live in Japan when the answer to “what did you do on the weekend?” is “On Saturday, some friends and I went to pachinko and karaoke, and on Sunday I drank too much sake and went to watch the Kagura at a local matsuri.” In other words, it was a fun, and distinctly Japanese kind of weekend.
For the uninitiated:
Pachinko:
Sort of like pinball, except you have no control over the outcome of the game. You just feed money into the machine, and watch the balls fall, rarely into the spot you would like them to go. It was the first time I had ever been, though I have been intrigued by the intense noise and lights for a year now. Even Gotsu, as small as it is, has multiple pachinko parlors, which are lit up so brightly at night that they obliterate the stars. It’s a popular pastime for Japanese salary-men, who apparently find it relaxing to go and sit in a deafeningly loud, cigarette-smoke filled room full of strangers, and watch all of their money be converted into little shiny metal balls and be lost forever in a garish arcade game. I knew damn well that whatever money went into my machine was never coming back, so I set myself a limit, wasn’t remotely surprised when I didn’t win, and was content to leave after 15 minutes when everyone else gave up too. I’m glad I’ve tried it and know what people are talking about now, but I’m in no danger of getting hooked. The noise gave me a headache, the smoke made my hair stink, and I might as well have thrown my money into the ocean. I think I’d rather waste my money on candy.
Karaoke:
While many Canadian bars may have a karaoke night every once in a while, they’ve got NOTHING on the karaoke places here. Usually, your group gets a fully furnished, soundproof/airtight private room for an hourly fee. I’m definitely not a singer, but hanging out with friends in a room full of comfy couches and a big TV is infinitely better than being humiliated in front of a whole pub full of strangers.
Sake:
Japanese rice wine. Tastes like rubbing alcohol smells. I’m not a fan, but I must admit, it has its perks, especially when the sake is hot and the weather is cold. It burns all the way down, warms you from the inside, and makes the world seem more pleasant, kinda like the laughing gas my dentist uses.
Kagura:
Traditional Japanese dancing. The costumes are amazing and must weigh a ton, as they’re so elaborate and have so many layers. The masks are scary as hell though, and young children often scream and run when they see them. The dancers sing and act out stories, accompanied by traditional instruments like taiko and wooden flutes. The matsuri (festivals) that are happening this month all feature kagura that runs from about 9pm to 6am the next day. The festivities move from neighbourhood to neighbourhood each week, and miles and miles of string with white paper zig-zag streamers are put up to mark the blocks that are involved. For me, the best part is seeing the shrines all opened up and full of lanterns, noise and people. Usually the shrines are closed up and the grounds are deserted, which always makes me feel like I’m trespassing somewhere sacred and creepy.
There’s always a price to pay for this much fun. Monday morning found me exhausted and battling both a cold and a slight hangover, but it was all worth it. I’d do it all again, although next time I’d probably spend my pachinko money on booze and a plastic samurai sword at the festival.
For the uninitiated:
Pachinko:
Sort of like pinball, except you have no control over the outcome of the game. You just feed money into the machine, and watch the balls fall, rarely into the spot you would like them to go. It was the first time I had ever been, though I have been intrigued by the intense noise and lights for a year now. Even Gotsu, as small as it is, has multiple pachinko parlors, which are lit up so brightly at night that they obliterate the stars. It’s a popular pastime for Japanese salary-men, who apparently find it relaxing to go and sit in a deafeningly loud, cigarette-smoke filled room full of strangers, and watch all of their money be converted into little shiny metal balls and be lost forever in a garish arcade game. I knew damn well that whatever money went into my machine was never coming back, so I set myself a limit, wasn’t remotely surprised when I didn’t win, and was content to leave after 15 minutes when everyone else gave up too. I’m glad I’ve tried it and know what people are talking about now, but I’m in no danger of getting hooked. The noise gave me a headache, the smoke made my hair stink, and I might as well have thrown my money into the ocean. I think I’d rather waste my money on candy.
Karaoke:
While many Canadian bars may have a karaoke night every once in a while, they’ve got NOTHING on the karaoke places here. Usually, your group gets a fully furnished, soundproof/airtight private room for an hourly fee. I’m definitely not a singer, but hanging out with friends in a room full of comfy couches and a big TV is infinitely better than being humiliated in front of a whole pub full of strangers.
Sake:
Japanese rice wine. Tastes like rubbing alcohol smells. I’m not a fan, but I must admit, it has its perks, especially when the sake is hot and the weather is cold. It burns all the way down, warms you from the inside, and makes the world seem more pleasant, kinda like the laughing gas my dentist uses.
Kagura:
Traditional Japanese dancing. The costumes are amazing and must weigh a ton, as they’re so elaborate and have so many layers. The masks are scary as hell though, and young children often scream and run when they see them. The dancers sing and act out stories, accompanied by traditional instruments like taiko and wooden flutes. The matsuri (festivals) that are happening this month all feature kagura that runs from about 9pm to 6am the next day. The festivities move from neighbourhood to neighbourhood each week, and miles and miles of string with white paper zig-zag streamers are put up to mark the blocks that are involved. For me, the best part is seeing the shrines all opened up and full of lanterns, noise and people. Usually the shrines are closed up and the grounds are deserted, which always makes me feel like I’m trespassing somewhere sacred and creepy.
There’s always a price to pay for this much fun. Monday morning found me exhausted and battling both a cold and a slight hangover, but it was all worth it. I’d do it all again, although next time I’d probably spend my pachinko money on booze and a plastic samurai sword at the festival.
DISCLAIMER
I can’t believe I’m blogging. Back home, I always scorned bloggers, and the narcissism that led them to believe that anyone wanted to read about their trip to the grocery store and other mundane daily events. Now I find myself propelled by a force even more powerful than narcissism, LAZINESS. I have lived in Japan for a year, and sent way fewer e-mails than I should have in that time. So now, if anyone finds themselves wondering what I’m up to, they can check at their own leisure.
Okay then, if you’re still reading, welcome to Gotsu-Shi, Shimane-Ken, Japan.
Okay then, if you’re still reading, welcome to Gotsu-Shi, Shimane-Ken, Japan.
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