Thanksgiving in Japan

Another year has passed and I am still biking my way through Japan. It seems like only yesterday that I left with a heart full of ambition and a mind filled with meaningless trivia. I have spent a fair share of my time here on airplane rides to and from America. I have realized, during those holidays I am not allowed to take off because I have classes to teach, that I have a soft spot in my heart for Thanksgiving.

Growing up Catholic and meandering more towards sympathetic atheism, I have realized that I really like Thanksgiving because it gives Americans a holiday that we don't have to trace back to a super religious or overly patriotic event in our nations history. The holiday started in this country during a time when we, as a people, were still babies hanging on to our mother's tits for nourishment. Our only holiday that takes place during a time when we didn't have American history, we had the history of the nations that sent their explorers to this land. We celebrate a holiday that takes place during a time when North America was still a unique place of many different cultures and languages. I try to remember this holiday in my mind. The time when we were the starving heathens who didn't know how to survive in this new land. We were saved, we grew, and we enslaved everything that we could: men, women, children, electricity, the atom, etc.

I had my second Thanksgiving in Japan. I was lucky enough to go to a nice party. We did have turkey this year, even though last years chicken was just as good. I went to Zane's house, he is our Prefectural Advisor. He was good enough to have about 10 to 15 people at his cozy home. I went to this Thanksgiving with Kimi, my girlfriend. I was excited to go and I was ready to have a good time. As the night moved progressed I started to think more about the wonderful Thanksgivings of my years in Omaha.

I thought of going to my Uncle Charlie's house when I was a young boy. His house seemed like an old fashion mansion, not exactly large but stately. My Uncle Charlie has always been a strong, intelligent figure in my life. I have a very intelligent family, but my Uncle Charlie seemed to know so many people and so many interesting stories. Before moving to the "country," while still living in the "city," my Uncle made the stories of small town life seem so interesting. The vivid way that he would tell stories about the clients he served as a lawyer, weaved itself permanently into my imagination.

While watching football on TV, the smell of my Uncle's pipe would permeate the house. Much like the forgotten ancestors our European counterparts shuffled away onto reservations, I would hear Charlie, my Grandpa Smith, and my father tell these perfectly narrated stories about small town life. With the smell of tabacco wafting through the room, instead of a teepee we sat on a plush couch listening to our elders. A family of great story tellers is better than any holiday special Disney could create.

I also loved going into my Uncle's basement, which was another shrine to who I am as a person. The three days a year that I was able to move from my caste to another brought me into this wonderful house of games. Growing up in South Omaha, I didn't have as much opporotunity to mingle with different classes of people. Namely those people who owned and purchased video games. At the Catholic school that I attended there were many kids with video games. I remember vividly hearing about the kids talking about levels and warps. I also remember not ever being too interested in the kids from my school, or, at least, they weren't interested in me. I only recall having 1 friend the whole time I was at that school, and he didn't even have video games. I regress...

Those few high holidays that allowed us all to meet at Uncle Charlie's house, were my favorites. I used to pray that we didn't have to go to Aunt Ann's house, not for any malice towards Aunt Ann, but her house was boring ass hell. Charlie's house had a pinball machine and a Nintendo. Just watching the older kids play was a glorious event to me, but those few times that everybody would leave the room and I was left of touch this sacred machine. I remember kids talking about that little grey box in hushed voices inside Tuesday church, saints and Christ himself were not spoken about so reverentially.

Even in recent years, without as much emphasis placed on video game entertainment, I always love going to my Uncle Charlie's house for Thanksgiving. The conversation is always interesting. My grandmother's prays last for 10's of minutes, usually with scattered giggles by many at the table, followed by swift kicks.

I love Thanksgiving. I love being around people I love on Thanksgiving. Because of this, this year's Thanksgiving was extremely depressing. While there was one person there that I love, most of the other people lie on a spectrum of hot and cold. A couple of the people I would place my feelings for them just past warm, but others bob about like ice cubes. I wanted to have my own Thanksgiving party, to surround myself with people I love and tell them all about why I love them and how they have shaped my life in the past year. But, I didn't. And, at this perfectly wonderful Thanksgiving party I couldn't tell the one person who I do love, why this year has been so good for me.

I had a good time at the party, but like a venereal disease, sometimes things look okay but in reality things might not be okay under it all. While talking, eating, and drinking, underneath I started to feel more depressed about missing Thanksgiving. I drank, and drank until 6 cans of beer, a bottle of Johnny Walker Black, and a partial bottle of whiskey another guy brought were ingested.

What a nice Catholic way of dealing with depression! Keep it all inside and let the whiskey take care of it. Well, Dr. Grey, of Grey's Anatomy fame, took care of me the rest of the night. Running between my futon and the bathroom for the rest of the night made all thoughts of Thanksgiving disappear, along with my turkey dinner.

Actually, Kimi was the one who took care of me the rest of the night. Thanks Kimi. I'm not sure if I said it during our "What are you thankful for?" game, but I am thankful for you. I am thankful because every other day of the year that I miss America, I don't miss it as much when you are around. Thanks.

What's new?

My updates have become...nonexistent. Here is an attempt to try again. Like much of my writing, except for my poetry, it usually becomes like a drive down Ft. Crook Rd, lots of stop and start. I have been trying to do a chronology of my time in Japan and I have come to understand that that is impossible. I don't have the time. I am busy. I am also a really important person. Really.

The cherry blossoms were out in Japan a few weeks ago. I sent an e-mail to some people with pictures of the beautiful picnic that I attended with a friend of mine. We ate good food, played catch, my friend played guitar, and we looked at all of the beautiful cherry blossoms. Mind, this was while we were inside the largest active caldera in the world. A word doesn't come close to describing the beauty of the scene or the feelings of the activity.

Later that week, my friend Austin from South Africa had a birthday party in a cabin out in the mountains. I understood that we would be camping out, which to me means there will be some roughness to the whole experience. I was wrong. I thought that Americans took it easy with there campers and indoor toilets, but that is nothing compared to the Japanese.

The cabin was two stories, there was a shower and toilet, a air conditioner, a heater, pots and pans, and futons for everybody. We brought all of our gear inside and we proceeded to celebrate. It was around two o'clock in the afternoon when we arrived and we started to eat and drink. We played drinking game and a couple of the girls started preparing some of the food that we would be cooking on the bar-b-que.

A few other people showed up throughout the night and by the time we were cooking, at the large covered community picnic area, we had grown to a group of fifteen. We cooked and drank and sang songs, it was all very bohemian. I spent a lot of time tending to the meat on the fire, drinking my grab bag of beers that I brought from my fridge, and chatting with a girl named Kimi (I have come to find that I am the perfect size for Japanese women. Who knew?).

After cleaning up at the picnic area, we headed back to the cabin. A couple more people showed up and we continued to drink. The cake was brought out with a nice rendition of Happy Birthday, off key in all of the right spots. I stepped over to the small speakers that Austin brought and started to play DJ. The girls wanted hip-hop and I obliged. Even Japanese girls, who are known for being shy, couldn't help but shake their asses. I even got up and showed them some funky South O shit.

We continued to play games, talk and, at one point, Austin and Jay, a Canadian, went outside and went hiking. Things started to wind down when this happened, the birthday boy was out in the mountains, and we were all getting pretty tired. Kimi told me that she and another girl wanted to sleep next to me because one of our crew was getting a little creepier as time passed. We took our things to the loft. The other girl didn't come but Kimi and I slept up there with another couple and Holly, a friend of my friend Chris'.

The next day we woke, cleaned the cabin and just goofed off. We decided to go to an onsen, to sweat the alcohol out of our systems. We all needed a bath too, I'm sure. It was nice sitting outside shootin' the breeze with these guys. We spoke about the impending rocket launch from North Korea, which was probably happening at that moment. We talked about our homes, which are all completely different from the next. We also talked about the future. I am being vague because sometimes times like these should be kept close, instead of disseminated in a blog. We finished and walked outside waiting for the rest of our crew to join us. We planned to go get something to eat, but we all had different plans. So we parted.

Holly, Kimi, and I went to Minami-Aso. We had bagel sandwiches for lunch and we visited our friend Soh, Kimi didn't know Soh but Holly and I did. We spent the rest of the afternoon at Soh's cafe, drinking coffee and eating chiffon cake. We went for a walk; Holly took some pictures, and Kimi and I flirted with each other. We walked back towards Soh's cafe and I picked a piece of grass and whistled with it, Kimi tried and failed, and Holly had her own way of whistling with grass. We taught Kimi how to do the same, but she had better luck with Holly's method. As a train pulled into the station, three twenty somethings, two foreigners and a Japanese girl, were using grass to make whistle sounds and giggling like we were 10 years old.

We made plans to have a party for our friend Chris, who was returning from his wedding that day. It was about 6:30, and I didn't sleep much the night before, so we all decided to part ways.

Another great weekend under my belt, and really it was part of a great week linking into a great few months. I have left myself open to every experience that presents itself, even though sometimes I just want to sit at home and play video games or sleep, I have enjoyed nearly every moment of time that I have spent in Japan. I am expanding as a person, and I am searching still for whatever it may be that I am looking for. It hasn't presented itself yet but I am a part of an adventure everyday that I am here, even if at the end of my time here I don't find that something, I won't have any regrets. "Let's all enjoy English," what Paul-sensei says to his students. Let's all enjoy Japan! Ne?

Kumamoto Orientation: Teacher information and getting drunk. Part II

Uuuuugggghhh...Death would have been a dream come true. The second day of Kumamoto Orientation was awful. The day started like any day from hell, my alarm clock didn't go off. As I woke from my stooper, I looked at the clock next to my futon and it was a quarter till eight. The orientation meetings began at nine o'clock. Without a moments hesitation, I dressed, brushed my teeth, and ran out the door, all in the same breath.

I flew on my bike, as fast as possible, to the main street and got on the street car. The street car was the fastest way to the department store where our meeting was held. It was my own fault for being late, but that didn't keep me from getting upset at the train moving so slow and, god forbid, stopping to pick up other passengers. It was only after getting on the street car that my hangover was finally able to be recognized. I could only hope that everybody else was in the same shape. I knew they had a better nights rest than the few hours respite that I experienced. I needed sleep, and waiting until 4:30 was going to be excruciating.

I went to the eight floor of the Tsurya building. Everybody was milling around chatting about the previous night. I told a few people of my long strange trip, but the 'whole' story needed to wait for another day. As we started in to our first meeting, we were all dragging and my hangover didn't feel so bad after seeing the others.

I am not so sure what the first workshop was about, it must not have been that important, or I might have been unconscious for the whole thing. I have brief memories of there being a Senior High School teachers workshop, but I have been to so many different workshops and seminars on teaching that they have congealed into brief memories.

There was a long trip to the bathroom, not because I was feeling ill, but only to get a few minutes of rest. Sitting in a bathroom stall, in a foreign land, thinking only of when I could go home. My ass was warm, the heated seat was turned on, and I was comforted, in a weird way, by a toilet. I started to think of the previous nights activities, I thought about the similarity of the experience to any experience I would have had in Omaha, and I realized that the only difference was the background noise. I came here for something different, yet sometimes I fall into a trap of desire for the same.

After my rest, I went back to the workshop, which ended shortly. The next workshop was a Japanese language workshop. I was excited, as much as I could be, for the workshop. The guy who presented the workshop was probably one of the best presenters that I have had in any workshop in Japan. He talked about how to learn Japanese, instead of talking about the actual language. He introduced us to books and websites that talked about the theory of learning Japanese, and he gave us information about what was beneficial to him when he started learning the language. This workshop gassed me up for a few hours, which I needed if I was going to make it through the rest of the day.

After the Japanese language workshop, we had our lunch break. I went out to a restaurant with my friends Daniel and Chris, and a few other people came with us; Jacee from New Zealand, a guy from California, and another guy from America. The food was really good, but it took longer than expected. We all decided that instead of rushing, we would just skip the workshop after lunch. I wanted to go to my friend Chris' hotel and check my e-mail. I wanted to go home. Chris asked me if I wanted to crash in his room. I declined, I told him if I fell asleep it was going to be for a long time, and I didn't want to ruin my impending date with my futon. Lunch helped make me feel better, but I was still wrecked.

The final workshop of the day was a finance workshop. I am crap with money, so I thought it would be beneficial, for me, to go. The workshop had some good information about sending money home through wire transfers and other means. The tips on how to save money and where to get deals when buying food or household items was good information. The best part/most uncomfortable part, of the workshop, was the report between the presenters. Two guys and a girl went through the material, in some kind of balanced order, but there was one guy, the same guy who was my guide for my Yamaga expedition, who kept on cutting in with "information." He started to make the other two presenters angry, and you could start to see the disdain on the female presenter's face. With a half hour left in the workshop, the report between the presenters was completely fractured and it looked like an all out war was about to begin. After the meeting was over, there was going to be a short closing ceremony for the day and then I could finally go home.

I was looking at the clock, in the final workshop, like a time-bomb. After a short break, we all gathered in the big conference room. I was getting antsy. The hangover was all but gone, but my sleep deprivation had boiled over and I was going to start going crazy if I didn't get some sleep.

The closing ceremony had been changed to a closing ceremony/gun(pronounced like tune instead of gun), which is a grouping of small towns, meeting. We all divided into our respective groups. I was part of the Kumamoto City group, but our leader was not at the conference, so we didn't talk about anything. The guy who was put in charge of our group wasn't even from the city, so he just asked if we had any questions. Nobody had any actual questions, there were a few meaningless questions about what was going to happen that night and were to get some good food, but nothing related to our experience as JETs. Somebody asked if we could leave, the other groups were talking about activities and business, but we were just sitting there chatting. Our leader asked if we could leave but he was told that we had to wait until 4:30. I was growing impatient and irritated.

Finally, we were able to leave. I made my goodbyes and asked my friends what they were doing, just to be cordial. They wanted to know if I wanted to get dinner with them after my nap, but I assured them that my nap was what occurred before the meeting. When I arrived at my house tonight, I would be in la-la land until morning. I said goodbye again and got on the street car and rode my bike home. When I arrived, I stripped, turned on my air-conditioner and fell right to sleep. I did wake up around 3:00 A.M, I ate something, and went back to bed.

When I woke the next morning, I was fully rested. I went to the Tsurya early and got something to eat at the conbini (Convenience store). We all did some chatting in the hallway before the meeting, and I learned that the previous night was pretty uneventful. Most people went out for dinner, and only a small few went out drinking.

The final day's workshops were Japanese language workshops. We all took a placement test on the first day of the orientation, and our results placed us in one of three language courses. I, of course, was in the beginners course. The course was an intensive language course, taught by a teacher who works for the YMCA in Kumamoto City. The course was all day event and I was excited for the ability to learn some Japanese.

I don't know if our leaders at the prefecture offices have read any linguistic studies, in language learning and the amount of time that should be devoted per day to study. The first hour or so was a review of things that had been given to us by the JET Program, for those who studied the materials. After the first hour, the information became more difficult. As more time passed and lunch loomed closer, we all started dropping like flies. Some students were outright refusing to participate, others were talking amongst themselves, and there were a few of us who were paying attention but our brains had gone into sleep mode.

For lunch, I went with a few guys to try and find a burger joint. Bobby, a guy from Canada, said that he knew where a Mos Burger was near the department store. After about a mile, we started to get irritated and time was running out for lunch. Luke, a British guy, was really irritated and he left before the rest of us. But, soon after that the rest of us realized this guy had no idea where he was going and we turned back as well. I left with a guy named John, from England. We went to McDonalds and found Luke there as well. We all hoped to have lost Bobby, but he leeched back on to us minutes later at McDonalds. We all chowed as fast as possible, and walked back to the orientation separately.

The later half of the afternoon wasn't any more productive than the first half. We were all tired and we had too much Japanese jammed into our brains for one day.

When we finished with the workshop, we all said our goodbyes. Most of the ALTs had to go back to their towns that night, so nothing was planned for that evening. I had school in the morning, so I didn't really want to do anything too strenuous. I went back home and watched a movie and went to bed.

The orientation was a good event to get to know more ALTs. The Japanese workshop left the biggest impression on me, which is when I was hungover and sleep deprived. So the whole event must not have been a wash if I was able to remember that workshop so fondly. School was just around the corner, no matter how many workshops we had or what information was given, we were all unprepared for what was about to begin.