Happy New Year

It is the New Year and time to reflect on what went on in the year before and write down hopes for the new one. Carl and I have been here for almost 10 months. We have watched spring, summer, autumn and now part of winter come and go in Japan. We've celebrated our favourite holidays (April Fools and Thanksgiving. Guess which one matches which person!). We've celebrated Carl's 31st birthday and my 30th. And now Christmas and New Year's in our adopted country.

Why would we do this? What have we learned? When are we coming home? No, seriously, why are we doing this?


Some things we've learned on our Japanese Adventure....

1) Sushi really does taste better in Japan. However, this only applies to restaurant sushi. The stuff you buy at the grocery store tastes about the same, but you're going to get more variety here. They don't often package roe and octopus at the Calgary Sobey's. However, when done by a professional chef, it's like ... it's like ... really good raw fish? Words cannot describe the tender, melt-in-your-mouth sensation of eating something killed just seconds before in front of you.

2) Drinking to excess is not just the domain of underage teenagers and 20 year olds (the legal age in Japan) having their first beer or sake. It can be the unfortunate pastime of businessmen in black suits. Entertaining clients can be hazardous to your health here. It can also cause you to spend a number of nights sleeping on a train station floor or city sidewalk. Luckily, it's common enough that no one will disturb your sleep. Also, all you can drink for one flat rate is a bad idea for foreigners who try and get the most bang for their buck...Carl.

3) Humidity sucks. It's worse than windchill, it's worse than waking up with a cat on your face, worse than having a drunk businessman breath on you. However, in summer everyone understands why you walk around with a towel around your neck here.

4) Japanese is a damn difficult language. Two phonetic syllabaries and over 10 000 kanji words makes even attempting to read the language almost impossible. I say almost, because other people braver than me have managed to accomplish this task. This is my way of saying, no, I don't speak Japanese. Maybe that will be one of my resolutions this year; to try, try again. Maybe.

5) You can make friends anywhere. Especially Japanese friends, as I've met some of the friendliest, funniest people anywhere here. However, friends who understand your quirks, people who know what you mean when you start speaking gibberish, people who love you for who you are unconditionally, take time and luck to have in your life. I am lucky to have so many of them in Calgary and I miss you all terribly.

However, I will have to miss you all a little longer. Carl and I will be staying a few extra months here, enduring yet another summer of humidity hell. We'll be back before Labour Day, but I don't know when exactly. We still have a lot to see and do here. We still have to see Sapporo and Tokyo and, most importantly, Tokyo Disneyland. We will continue to update you on our adventures (hopefully more frequently).

One thing I have learned this year is that there is no feeling like accomplishing a life-long dream, no matter what the result is. I hope that all of you get to experience that in the new year. Happy New Year everyone!!!

Food, Glorious Food!

Hello boys and girls,

This post was supposed to be published around Thanksgiving as a look into our lives around that time of food and togetherness. However, between some schedule changes, overtime, and general laziness I'm only getting around to it now. However, it is still chock full of fun facts, witicisms and is 100% fat-free!

Obviously one of the biggest differences between Canada and Japan is the food. Traditional meals in Japan consist of rice, fish, and miso soup. Morning, noon and night. Dinner might also include some pickled vegetables or some noodles, but otherwise that's it. However, since the days of European contact (when even the British complained the food was bland and boring) food has changed somewhat. The biggest difference can be found in the amount of junk food now consumed. Junk food not only includes things like Pocky, Foam, Fran and Carl (my favourites are cheesy and salty Carl!), but also dried salted fish, chocolate croutons, and green tea flavoured everything (my favourite being Hagaan Das Green tea and Kuromitsu (brown sugar) ice cream sandwich, mmmmmm).

Condiments and garnishes and other food accompaniments are also unique. A popular topping is mayo. It goes on everything; salad, eggs, cooked veggies, pizza, and the famous Osakan food, okinomiyaki (eggs and veggies and meat pancake). However, according to Carl's students, he was the only one to ever buy and like wasabi flavoured mayonnaise, although we might bring some home with us.

Right behind mayo in terms of popularity is kerneled corn. Sweet corn niblets go with everything too, especially pizza. One of the most popular pizza combos is seafood and corn, with mayo of course. Even if you specifically ask for it to be removed it comes with, because who doesn't like sweet, hot corn and cheese!

Corn salad is probably just as popular as cornflake salad. Both are mostly sold as bar snacks too. Yes, cornflakes make the perfect addition to everything from salad to yogurt to ice cream sundaes. And while you're at it, throw in some maple syrup too, for an extra special treat. For many of my students, Canada is the land of snow, Niagara Falls and maple syrup.

Along with the junk food habit, Japan has also acquired a few other bad habits. Bread here is big, fluffy, white chunks of sweet, soft, nutrition free goodness. I mean really big. A sandwich made from this bread could feed a family for a week. However, most sandwiches are made from paper thin slices of bread stuffed with corn, mayo, egg and fried meat of some sort, maybe with some seaweed added for extra flavour, and with the crusts cut off. There are even regional differences in bread; Osakans tend to like their toast soft in the center so they make the thickest bread. One loaf often contains only 5 or 6 slices.

White flour is everywhere here, in every form. Cream puffs, pastries, buns, buns filled mayo and noodles, buns filled with mayo and noodles and corn. The list goes on.

To counteract this glut of fiber-free flour, the traditional Japanese food natto is eaten. Natto is often foisted on foreigners here the way the Australian shove Vegemite at the unsuspecting. Only the brave and foolish walk down that path. Natto is fermented soybeans with the texture of sticky spiderwebs and the smell of ripe blue cheese. Like many foods, you have to wonder how people come up with the idea of eating it in the first place.
"What's for dinner?"
"Soybeans. Grab me that pot in the corner."
"You mean the one that hasn't been moved in a month and smells like Grandpa's feet?"
"Don't sass me! Just mix it in with some rice and you won't even know what you're eating."
"But Grandma it feels like there's a rock in my stomach."
"Are you dead yet? No? Then it's good for you!"
And as always, Grandma knew best. Or maybe the conversation went more along the lines of two kids double-dog daring each other to eat it. You never know. But now natto is as common as all the other popular fermented foods here, like miso and sake, mmmmm sake...

Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving enjoying more traditional Canadian foods like turkey neck and giblet stuffing. May we all be united in a feeling of unity and thankfulness with our fellow man and our omnivorous stomachs.

...and jump

...and jump
Originally uploaded by Colleen Bishop.

On Top of Fuji-san

Fuji

It was a dark and foggy night...Honestly!

As we approached Fuji I was doubtful that there was even a mountain there. All you could see was a mass of green and white. The fog blanketed the bus on all sides and instead of the sharp drop-off, all you could see at the edge of the road was a wall of white. A theme that would be repeated throughout the night.

We bought a few things at the 5th station, including a flash light and a large plain hiking stick with some bells tied around the top. The stick is great because you can get brands burned onto it at each of the rest stations, making it one large useful souvenir. We started hiking as the sun was starting to set. We walked into the green forest and actually started by hiking down for a bit. But soon we were climbing a wide moderately angled slope. Our guide stopped a few times in the greying light to point at some path markers and make very clear something we should or should not do if we got separated from the group. We did know that if we took the wrong path back we would end up on the wrong side of the mountain and would have to take a very expensive taxi home. However, we had no idea how our guide's instructions pertained to that. We just took the opportunities to rest and look at the fog rolling across the path. I guess at this height, 2300m, we were probably walking through low clouds. My hair was dripping with condensation.

As we climbed higher we were taking breaks about every 30-40 minutes. Breaks just meant stopping where you were and sprawling on the path for about 10 minutes. If we were climbing during high season that would have meant creating a traffic jam, as hundreds of people start climbing at the same time we were starting. However, because we were climbing in the off season, we only crossed a few hikers coming down the mountain.

We passed a few huts that were closed for the season before reaching the 6th station. A quick branding (for the stick)and bathroom break (for us)and we were on our way again. The stations are spaced about 300m apart, but our guide was moving at a very deliberate pace to accommodate the varying levels within the group and we were now stopping every 20-30 minutes for a break. So it was taking us about an hour to reach each station. Another thing that was slowing us down was that the path had narrowed, so that it was only safe to walk in single file. And the path had gotten much steeper, going from 30 degrees, to 40, up to I think 50 or 60 degrees of weathered, hardened lava rock. I was contemplating just how awful a step off of the path would be when a short, spry, yet elderly lady in front of me missed a foot hold and fell backwards onto the path, her foot still stuck on the rock. We just grabbed her in time, luckily she was all right. We stopped soon after at another closed hut.

One of the benefits of the frequent breaks was the opportunity to gaze at the stars. I so seldom get to see the stars away from the glare of the city, and we were well above the lights of the nearest cities glowing from beneath the clouds. We were above the clouds now, but it wasn't that cold. Our breath didn't even fog, so there was nothing to obscure the amazing sky. It was odd to see familiar constellations at strange places in the sky. Orion was lying nearly parallel with the horizon, and we struggled to find other familiar sights. I saw three shooting stars. The longer we looked the more stars we could see, crowding the sky, pressing down on us.

We finally reached the 8th station at about 9:30. We were given bags for our boots, breakfast for the morning, and after gathering our sticks for branding we were herded off to bed. We were going to rest for a few hours and then start climbing again in order to reach the summit before dawn. There was a long low room with two long bunk beds built onto either wall. Each bed was lined with a row of heavy comforters and buckwheat pillows. After being given a spot at the end of the row we tried to get comfortable and sleep. Even though we had not slept at all for the past 36 hours I couldn't sleep. I listened to the soundtrack of A New Brain and kept nudging Carl everytime he started to snore. Which meant that Carl didn't sleep either. Because I knew sunrise wasn't until 5:30 and that we only had 700m to go to the summit I didn't think we'd start climbing until after 1am, and that I'd have plenty of time to catch a nap. I was wrong. Only 2 hours after tucking us in, they untucked us and we started for the summit at about 11:40.

We thought we'd been climbing in the dark before, but there had still been remnants of sunset lighting the sky. Now we were climbing in total darkness. And our bodies hadn't been moving for a while so we were feeling the cold. We eagerly started off and promptly stopped 20 minutes later. We were now stopping every 15-20 minutes for about 10-15 minutes at a time. It was slow going. After about an hour and a half we made it to the original 8th station, where we lost a few members of our group. They paid to stop and stay the night. We pressed on to the Goraikokan Hut. Yes, all of these places were open at 2 o'clock in the morning. That's when they do a lot of their business in hikers searching for the dawn. This was a charming place with friendly staff and highly over-priced food. We decided to skip the 4 dollar bowl of miso or can of coffee and shared our trail mix with our table mates. They kindly took our picture. This was also the first time we'd seen other hikers going up since we'd left. But they were all climbing in small groups. And moving much faster than us. We watched their flashlights ascend the mountain far ahead of us.

After we left the hut we started stopping every 10-15 minutes. The path was still steep so there often wasn't a good place to stop, and a few times we had to hug the edge of the path as a few hikers passed us. We were stopping often to accommodate any altitude sickness people might be feeling and because climbing in the pitch black is a little stressful. I will admit my heart was pounding loud and hard after a few steps because of the atmosphere, but I just wanted to keep going and ignore the chain-smoking guide's frequent stops.

About a 100m below the summit the sun started to come up. Just a faint line on the horizon, but it soon started to glow red. I didn't think we'd make the summit before the sun rose. But our guide pushed through the last 15 minutes and we were on top of Japan! There are no other words for it but amazing. Instead of the horrible cold and weather that normally plagues off-season climbers we had a beautiful ocean of clouds below us and a wonderful view in all directions. We climbed to the top rim of the crater and stared silently as the sun rose pink and red and yellow through the white clouds. Some people clasped their hands together in prayer. Our guide took that moment to tell them to pray that the baseball team, the Hanshin Tigers, would win the pennant. There was also a Shinto shrine gate at the very top of the mountain. We took the bells that we had pulled off of our walking stick and hung them on the gate like many travelers before us. There were bells covering the gate and all over the ground. I couldn't tell you why, but it seemed a fitting way of commemorating the climb. A pair of German's started to ask Carl if he was German but then saw his Canada baseball cap. We took their pictures and they took ours. They were going to explore the rest of the crater, but our group was getting set to go back down the mountain. We first made a few phone calls from the top of the mountain. The reception was great! And it was the middle of the afternoon in Canada.

We headed down the mountain on the descent route. It's a different path going down than up. On the way down you use the trailer track they use to haul goods and equipment to the various huts. It's a wide path of loose dirt and gravel, making it very easy to loose your footing and skid down half the path if you're not careful. Unfortunately somebody stumbled. Just as we got back to the 8th station a man rolled his ankle badly and they had to call for a truck to come get him. This required our hiking guide to stay with him, and the tour guide to run down the mountain to wait for him and make sure his belongings made the trip home. This left us to make it down the path on our own. So glad we had those long detailed instructions to fall back on!

We did have a rough map and we mostly kept the other hikers in our sight. But our group became quickly strung out along the path. Carl and I were mostly on our own, but we caught up to a small group near the end and followed them through the tricky path forks near the bottom. After 4 hours of walking heel first downhill, with my body at a steep angle to the mountain, with dirt flying at every step, I was ready to stop and never walk again. But as we waited for the rest of the group to arrive we purchased some souvenirs and tried to stretch our tired tendons.

We loaded onto the bus and bid our fog shrouded friend goodbye. It was an incredible experience but my sore, sleep-deprived body was happy to be moving towards home. But first a few more stops. Thankfully one of them was an onsen. Onsen is Japanese for hot-spring, but this one was very small, more like a large locker room with indoor and outdoor hot tubs. Did I also mention that onsens are public baths? Public bathing is a big thing here, but this was out first experience of bathing in public. You have to shower or wash yourself off in the onsen room before plunging into the hot shallow baths. The water was about 38 degrees and wonderful for aches, pains, and blistered skin. But it was a little uncomfortable. I was familiar with the idea in theory, from discussing it with my students, but definitely not in practice. I wasn't sure what naked faux pas' I might be committing. And we were definitely underprepared. We had to rent towels. I emerged after Carl, and we wedged our clean, tired bodies into our tiny seats for the trip home.

Another stop for dinner, and a few more rest stops, and we were finally home. They dropped us off at the train station at 8pm. We squeezed our bodies and backpacks onto the train full of rush hour commuters. We picked up groceries for our meals the next day, and staggered home with stick in hand. It was probably the most time it had ever taken us to walk the 6 blocks home. Another bath and shower and then we fell into our futons at 11pm for a solid 11 hour sleep. We had been awake for 2 days and had climbed and descended from the highest point in Japan. We had experienced nature and the mountain, the fog, the stars and the sunrise. It was September 16th and as we stood at the top of Fuji, celebrating our climb, we were also celebrating 6 months in Japan. See you in another 6!

Nara Pagoda

5 Story Pagoda
Originally uploaded by Colleen Bishop.

Nara

Nara

Two weeks ago Carl and I had a day off together, something that has become increasingly more rare as they keep throwing overtime at us, so we decided to get out of town and do something fun. We headed for Nara. Luckily our local station is on the Nara line out of town and 45 minutes later we found ourselves in the small quiet town of Nara.

First, a bit of history; Nara was the one of the first capitals of Japan from 710 - 784 AD. It is considered the cradle of Japanese culture, arts and crafts. It is also where Buddhism first flourished in Japan under the strong patronage of successive emperors and empresses. They sponsored magnificent temples and works of art, many of which have survived to this day. There are 7 cultural sites in Nara registered on the UNESCO World Heritage List, including the world's largest bronze Buddha, the world's largest wooden building, and the world's oldest wooden building. You can hardly take a step in Nara without tripping over something precious. Or over deer droppings. On to the story.

We arrived in Nara on a hot, sunny, clear afternoon. After a quick orientation by the friendly lady at the tourist center, we were on our way. The closest Canadian equivalent we could think of for Nara is Banff. A beautiful little tourist town in the shadows of the mountains, at one with the wilderness. Except the mountains are closer to hills and in Nara you have to feed the deer.

After a short walk up a shopping street there was a small pond, filled with coi and turtles, flanked by a three and five story pagoda. To the right is an old arts and crafts market and up and to the left is Nara Park. Nara Park was created in 1880 as a reflective spot with which to contemplate the beautiful monuments that are on each edge of the park. To further enhance the scenic setting they filled the park with tama (not tame) deer, a symbol of Nara.

I was raised by a hunter. I was taught to respect the line between wilderness and humans. Animals are not people and should not be treated as such. Bambi was never watched in our house because deer don't talk to skunks and the only evil hunters are poachers and those who hunt irresponsibly with no respect for nature. So of course, one of the first things I did in Nara was buy a packet of deer cookies sold by the vendors. I love you dad!

The vendors are scattered every 20 feet and are surrounded by deer. Carl was very disappointed to find that the cookies were made for the deer and not from the deer. The second you approach a vendor the deer surround you. This is why people and wild animals should be kept separate. The second people become a source of food, they are no longer a source of fear. And that's when the people should be afraid, very very afraid. All around the park you see the dance of people buying cookies and then running in circles trying to feed and avoid the deer at the same time. If you don't feed every deer around you right away they start to get ... pushy. In this amusing series of shots you can see me attempting to feed the deer and not become deer food myself. Stop biting my shirt you short, sharp-toothed monster! There's skin there!! Hey!!!

Carl had a better idea. Buy the cookies after dark and sneak up to other deer not surrounding the vendors and feed the deer by stealth. Much less dangerous for all involved.

After the @#%! deer we moved across the park towards the highlight of Nara, Todai-ji Temple, the world's largest wooden building, housing the world's largest bronze buddha. The huge horned Daibatsu-den (Buddha house) is hard to describe other than saying it is truly awesome in every sense of the word. And it used to be bigger. After it burned down twice, it was finally rebuilt in 1692 at two-thirds the original size. The Daibutsu, great Buddha, is even more awe-inspiring. He represents the Cosmic Buddha who presides over the universe, and each level of reality is depicted on the lotus flower he sits on. Each petal of the lotus he sits on is 10 feet tall. He is also flanked by impressive guardian figures. In the back corner of the building, there is a small hole in the base of one of the pillars. The inside is smooth from people crawling through, because apparently going through it reserves you a place in paradise. A camel passing through the needle's eye, so to speak.

To the west, and further up the hill are more temples, which have fantastic views of the city. They also provided some welcome shade on a hot sunny day. We walked south from there to Kasuga Grand Shrine, an important place for Shinto worship. The paths around it are lined with more than 2000 huge stone lanterns. We circled down to the east side of the park and finally settled in a Mos Burger restaurant to admire the sunburns we'd each picked up. Finally, we bought some bread to attract the minnows and watch the turtles eat the minnows in the pond, as we waited for the sun to set.

After sunset the Nara lantern festival began. For two weeks every August the streets and hills around Nara are covered with thousands of small plastic lanterns holding floating candles. There are also numerous buckets of water around, just in case. The number of volunteer hours that must go into that each night is amazing. But it's worth it. It's truly lovely. The lanterns were arranged to form words on the higher hills and in patterns on the ground. There were large bronze arrangements and floating holders on the ponds. We wandered among families as they took pictures of their children in yukatas playing among the lanterns and the still hungry deer. And after another hour of wandering we took our tired feet home to bed. Another day and night in Japan.

To see all our pictures, click here.

The Long Weekend - Part 3

Our Sunday started late and in the pouring rain. Again.

Now Osaka is not the most touristy of cities to begin with. Even though it's the second largest city in Japan, and one of the oldest, it has often been called the ugly stepsister of Japan. It is a hub of business and it has great food, but those aren't really tourist draws. And let's face it, the gee-whiz factor of anything is dampened in a downpour. We started our mission, to show our friends our home, at a severe disadvantage. However, we did our best. We really did try guys!

We started by going to Osakajo, Osaka's castle, just a few minutes walk from our apartment. We have a lot of photos of the castle already, but we added a few new ones to show the change of the seasons. And of course Scott had to have his picture taken, the little camera hog. We wandered around the plaza and over to a nearby shrine. It really is lovely, but again, the rain didn't help. "Hey, you should go look at the fantastic zen rock garden. I mean if you can make it past the river on the path." We were helped in our explorations by a sweet volunteer guide, who did her best to explain Buddhist rituals in limited English. And after posing for a picture with us she gave us directions to our next destination. Shi-Tennoji Temple.

Now we had never been to Shi-Tennoji before, even though it is one of Osaka's largest temples. It's just a little outside of our usual areas, so we were finding it for the first time with Joe and Leanne. When we got to Tennoji station we wandered upstairs looking for a map or sign or tourist information office. We had barely climbed the stairs before a kind man had spotted our confusion and was trying to help us. When Carl had finally made our destination clear he lit up like a light and bolted across the station with our group hardly able to keep up. He raced out of the station, to the intersection and pointed down the street. Apparently, all we had to do was go straight until we reached a large intersection and we'd be there. It was at this point that Joe turned to me and asked,

"Does this ever happen to you?"
"What?"
"Strangers coming up to you, offering to help?"
"Well, now that you mention it no, never."
Leanne chipped in with, "Oh, this happens to me all the time."
Carl said, "Me too, even when I know when I'm going, I've had people offer to help me."
Joe and I looked at each other.
Joe said, "See, this never happens to me. I've been here 10 months and no one's ever walked up to me and offered me directions or help, without me asking."
"Oh, that's just because you're a guy," Leanne said.
"No, this happens to Carl too. I think it's because you're a blonde."

And that's when it all became clear. The power of the blonde. Oh, they tried to deny it, but the path their yellow hair cleared for us was undeniable. Now at this point, some of you may be going, "But Colleen, you're a blonde too!" No, I've always been a mousy blonde, or a reddish blonde, or some other kind of -ish blonde. Never a true, flaxen haired, yellow blonde. And comparing the looks I get, with the giggles and points that Carl and his charming grin and sunglasses get is honestly like comparing the sun and the moon. The hair of the blonde glows. It emits an aura that draws people to them. Like moths to the proverbial flame they are.

However, Leanne and Carl did not glow brightly enough to make the rain go away. So after receiving our directions we walked down the street with our increasingly battered umbrellas looking for the temple. Japan is a place of such history and contrasts that temples and shrines really are everywhere, even in the middle of a busy city. We crossed the street at one point to check out a small shrine we though might have been connected to the temple. But just half a block later we found our destination. Exactly where our guide said it would be. We wandered around and saw monks taking offerings to ring bells for followers. Candles being burned at small shrines. We performed some ritual ablutions ourselves, rinsing our hands and mouths at one of the fountains even though, oh yeah, it's still raining. We walked into the heart of the complex and saw an admission booth for the temple gardens. Now we were feeling a little beaten down by the rain, and Joe, Carl and I just wanted to move on and not pay to see the gardens. But Leanne insisted and we were glad she did. Even in the rain the zen gardens were wonderful. Quiet and peaceful, truly beautiful. We took a lot of photos even though a lot of them were blurry because my hands were shaking in the damp cold. We left just before the gardens closed and moved on to Namba.

Namba is one of the two downtown cores and it's where I work. We wandered through the claustrophobic underground mall choked with people in the middle of the afternoon and back out onto the rain soaked streets. We had to stop at the giant Apple store and let the boys ogle the toys. And then we went to Dotomburi bridge, a place famous for its giant neon signs. Giant neon signs that, unfortunately, weren't lit up yet. Oh. We though about staying and watching the elaborately dressed teenagers hit on each other until they were turned on (the signs, not the teenagers), but we thought in the interest of time we should move on.

Onto the subway, where we marvelled at the number of men with Platinum Blonde and Bon Jovi hair-dos. We went across town to Umeda, the other downtown core and where Carl works. We went straight to Yodabashi camera, one of Carl's favourite places in Osaka. All toys and gadgets and gizmos. On our way back into the mall Carl and Joe stopped for a beer at one of vendor carts that are everywhere. A sort of portable stand-up bar. It is over these beers that the legend of the leprechorn was born. A mythical creature with astonishing powers that I really have to let Carl tell you about. I am in no way capable of truly communicating the full mythology of such a creature myself. Until then you will have to imagine the powers of such a creature yourself.

Barely recovered from our encounter with the mystical creature, we went to Kinokuniya, a huge bookstore that thankfully has an English language section. After a few purchases at the temporary English language bargain section we went back out and tried to decide what to do next. By this time, the rain had worn down everyone's patience and enthusiasm. Even our umbrellas had reached their ends. And I know my feet were hurting. We decided to go in search of karaoke for our last night in Japan together. We wandered through the closing malls and up and down the soaked streets. Just as we were about to give in and go to the overpriced Big Echo a sidewalk flyer person stopped us and pointed us in the direction of their establishment. They took pity on our tired faces and rode up in the tiny elevator with us. As we were ushered into our private room, we couldn't help noticing the faded wallpaper and fraying seats, all infused with the permanent smell of cigarettes. But the price was right and they had a great selection of songs, which we belted into submission for an hour.

Then we were off to our last stop of the day. Sushi. We decided on a kaiten-zushi, a conveyor belt sushi restaurant that can also be found in North America. For those unfamiliar with the concept, chefs put small plates of sushi on a conveyor belt that goes around the entire restaurant. You pick up any plate that looks appetizing to you and your bill is determined by the number plates you pile up. We had some very good sushi, and a chance to relax in a warm dry place. By the time we were done the rain was gone. And we walked home to dry clothes and hot baths.

The next morning Joe and Leanne left with us as we went to work. It was sad to see them go. But we had a great time with them for our first long weekend in Japan.

For all the pics, click here.

My Japanese Canada Day Weekend - Part 2

When last we left our intrepid Team Canuck, they were sleeping soundly on the floor of Motormouth's and Schmeeb's apartment, having collapsed there sometime past 2 am. Sometime around 8:30 our heros awoke for some strange reason, as normally there is no force on earth that can move me from a comfy bed. Strangely however we were not bleary eyed, but full of vim and verve and ready to tackle the day. Until we looked outside. It was raining. Still. But adventure beckoned, so we walked out the door and into the rain. I would not be cowed by the rain and refused to bring an umbrella. What could go wrong? Today we were going to USJ - Universal Studios Japan!

When we got off the train the weather was worse. The strong wind blowing the sheets of rain in all directions. But having arrived we moved towards the park, only temporarily distracted by the smell of Cinnabons. The western junk food I normally deride is strangely compelling in a foreign land. As we got closer to the park my excitement rose. I actually started to hop, skip and jump. The biggest theme park I'd been to was Calaway Park. This was a whole new level of fun.

We started at ET:the Ride. It was very odd to watch a young Steven Spielberg doing the intro dubbed in Japanese. It was here we discovered that while most of the staff have some basic English, all the info and dialogue on the rides was in Japanese. Other than that, it's almost exactly the same park as they have in California and Florida, or so I was told. I was too busy dancing in circles, 'I'm going on rides!!!! Wheeeee!!!'

We went to ET and flew through the air as the cute alien said goodbye, T-3 - where their Terminator wasn't that scary, Spiderman - the most awesomest ride there (yes, I know awesomest isn't a word), Back to the Future - the ride most in need of an update, especially after the 3-D wonders of Spiderman next door. Then we went to the Waterworld show and watched people get set on fire and fly through the air on jet skis. And I discovered that's my true calling in life, stunt person! Get paid to do fun, stupid things! We went back to Jurassic Park - we did the water ride on a rainy day, ehh - we were already wet. And all along the way Scott the mascot posed for photos, he especially liked the cars.

We did the Jaws ride, ate overpriced pizza, and watched street shows. Most of the street shows featured Caucasian performers singing or doing acrobatics. Kind of cheesy, but we never stayed long, there was more death-defying fun to be had. I really wanted to go to the Backdraft display, but learning how they make fire effects in the movies isn't nearly as informative when coming from a dubbed Ron Howard. Then we saw the Shrek 4-D movie, yes 4-D, it means that things come from above and below your seat to attack you during the movie, and they use Smellovision. In Japanese, but we could follow the plot. Then we went back to Spiderman again because it was SO COOL! I mean really, so COOL!!! It was in polarized 3-D, the ride whipped around fast enough to break your neck and it actually felt like you were surfing through sewer tunnels and being dropped from buildings.

Did I mention it was cool?

We missed about half the attractions because all the stage shows were in Japanese. But we spent the day hanging out, laughing, and trying to stay dry. And by the end of the day it was beautiful and warm. Just in time for the spectacular fireworks/floating stage show. On floating stages in the middle of the lake they had a tribute to the movies throughout the ages done in song, dance, water, lights, giant inflatable monsters and fireworks. During the movie monster section, a giant King Kong rose behind us as a man climbed a building and zip lined with Fay Wray to safety over our heads. During the Jurassic Park section a giant pterodactyl grew at the other end of the park as plesiosaurs swam through the lake. People on jet skis zipped through the lake flying multi-tiered kites. And then there was a final burst of music and fireworks. At the end of the day we wandered out tired and happy. And there was still one more day in our long weekend...

....oh, yeah if you want to see all of the photos from Universal Studios click here.

Canada Day...Japanese Style eh!

When last we left our intrepid traveler's they were celebrating the arrival of some friendly faces in their cozy apartment. (I can't say tiny anymore, because apparently Joe's apartment in less than half the size of ours!) Leanne had arrived the weekend before, but our party was finally complete with the arrival of Joe on July 1. That's right, Canada Day. We were all determined to spend our national day with other nationals. Joe was barely ensconced in our homey abode when we began the celebration, Canadian style. A kitchen party!! With Spirit of the West and Great Big Sea on the iPod, and (Japanese) beer in the hands of the boys we sat around in the kitchen, chatting like we had actually seen each other in the past 4 months. Nachos were made in the toaster oven, and homemade plum hooch was passed around in small glass jars. Life was good, but we weren't done yet.

As night fell we assembled into Team Canuck!! (I know you had another word Carl, but this is my blog!) As Motormouth, Schmeeb, Wet, and Babyface (you figure out who's who) we ventured out in our best red and white clothing and underthings, rub-on Canadian tattoos, stickers, pins, (thanks Moms!), and umbrellas (this is Japanese style and it is rainy season). Leading the pack was our mascot, later to be named Scott. A small furry animal of indeterminate type, he was dressed in a Mountie outfit and carrying a flag. But he didn't attract nearly as much attention as the 4 loud Canadians carrying him. You thought Americans could be obnoxious, try 4 homesick Canadians!

On the train we thrust Scott into the hands of unsuspecting Osakans and snapped picture after picture. It was even more fun when we pressed his paw and he started to wave his flag and play the Canadian anthem. We quickly moved through the crowded rainy streets to an izakaya (bar) featuring a Canadian theme. Apparently Canada means a log cabin with saddles for decorations and lumberjacks in thin plaid cotton cooking Japanese food. Who knew? We were told there was a 30 minute wait, but we stayed our ground, we were Canadians and we were celebrating in a building with a large Canadian flag out front. Even if there were only 5 Canadians inside, including ourselves. Leanne even convinced the owner to let us put a flag sticker on their wall. We got a seat at the huge bar and started amusing staff and customers alike with our dancing, singing Scott. We ate and drank and ate some more, until we were asked to share the one sticky English menu they had. But by then it was time to indulge in another valued Canadian pastime, Bingo!! (I know, I know, but it's a gimmick at the bar, and lots of Canadians do play bingo!) Joe, Carl and I brushed up on our Japanese numbers and quickly translated for Leanne. I was off to a promising start, and had 4 ways to win when the first person shouted Bingo! OK, they didn't shout bingo, but they did shout something that roughly translates to I got it! The 3000 yen prize had been won. But there were two more prizes to go, and two numbers later the cute girl at the front of the bar shouted BINGO! and got 2000 yen off the bill for her group! (That would be me :) We still spent too much money, but, oh no, we weren't done yet!

Off we wandered in search of the ultimate Japanese pastime, karaoke. We only had an hour and a half before the last train, but we were on a mission. At Big Echo, one of many karaoke chains in Japan, we tried to rent ourselves a little room for an hour. Now before you start making any conjectures about 4 consenting adults renting a room, if you don't already know, the Japanese do not go to bars to sing karaoke, or if you do, you pay by the song. You rent a private room with two sanitized mikes and sing away in relatively sound-proof enjoyment. After asking the girl behind the counter many questions in our very poor Japanese, and listening to her answers in very fast Japanese, we eventually managed to get a room. It was our first time singing karaoke in Japan. Carl and I had hesitated before, because we felt a little strange renting a room for just the two of us, however, that is very common here. Our first time was awesome. A huge flat screen TV, a great sound system, a touch screen data pad for entering info, and even 2 tambourines!! Drinks and food are ordered by phone and delivered by a waitress. Of course we scared ours so badly with our enthusiastic singing that she broke our first tray of drinks. We sang like Canucks possessed by the spirits of Anne Murray and Rita McNeil. I think there was even a little Bryan Adams rocker in the mix. But we didn't actually sing songs by any of them. I sang ABBA medleys and Carl sang The Wind Beneath My Wings. But this time he wasn't drunk and no one had a gun to his head. We still don't know why he did it. All too soon our hour was up and we toddled off with sore feet and happy hearts.

That is until we went to the pet store. I don't mind pet stores here too much, because even though the cages are small, the animals seem really happy and active. They seem well treated, and they had better be because your average dog or cat can cost two weeks salary. Leanne played tug-o-war with the puppy in the front of the store. He really liked her camera strap. We talked with a customer fascinated with all of our Canadian paraphenalia. She introduced us to her two papillions, her son and daughter, she said. But as we wandered towards the back of the store things took a turn for the worse. There was a friendly parrot, who liked Carl, especially his watch. There was also a miniature goat. And a very stressed anteater, who ran circles around his cage and swiped at anyone not bearing ants. And a sad lonely monkey, who just wanted to hold hands. Well, actually he held my hand with his feet, I don't know what his hands were doing. We had to leave after that.

On the way home, we debated setting off fireworks (legal here!) but as soon as we sat down in our miniscule apartment we didn't want to move. The clock had struck midnight and Team Canuck was now just another group of tired people who partied too hard on a Friday night. To see the rest of the pictures from our Canada Day adventure, click on the Canada Day link on the right. Some time after 2 we said good night, tomorrow was going to be another long fun-filled adventure...

To Be Continued....

Shopping: The Sport

I was going to talk about food today. And will at some point in the future. Please write and ask questions, and I guarantee I will answer all of them. However, the accuracy of the answers is not guaranteed...

But seeing as we went shopping today, I feel a need to vent. In our lessons we always do a warm-up/get to know you section. A common questions are 'What are your hobbies?' or 'What do you do in your free-time?'(I'm trying to change that question in my students. How often do you find yourself asking those questions in conversation? If I'm unique in never using those sentences, please tell me. I'll have to reindoctrinate my students.) And a common answer is 'I go shopping.' Or 'I go to shopping,' depending on the level of the student. Now at this point I found myself wondering, shopping is a hobby? Shopping is a hobby in 90% of my students? That doesn't seem right....

However, a few days sightseeing in Osaka corrected my mistaken notion of what constitutes a hobby. In fact, I would go so far as to say that shopping is not just a hobby, but a lifestyle. Not only have I seen the biggest stores I've ever seen in my life, but I've seen more of them in one city than I ever thought possible.

To get to work Carl and I take the train. Most train stations are connected to huge overground and underground shopping networks. Not really malls because they spread out in all directions for miles on end. And for many levels up and down. Not to mention all of the separate shopping districts with covered streets and a maze of different shops. I think it would actually be possible to walk from one end of Osaka to the other without ever setting foot outside a shopping area.

For example, a walk down the street by my work goes something like this.

'Oh my God! Did you see what they had in the giant Apple store? ... No, the one across the street from Louis Vuitton. The one next to the Chanel store. ...No the other Chanel store, down the block. The one next to the Armani store. ... No the other Armani store! Aren't you paying attention?'

Or

'Oh my God! Did you see the giant United Colors of Benetton store next to the Balenciaga shop next to the Dior next to the Anna Mui next to the Calvin Klein next to the Burberry's next to the Jill Stuart next to the Ungaro next to the Givenchy next to the Ambercrombie and Finch next to the Feragamo next to the WOULD YOU LOOK AT THOSE SHOOOOESSS!!!!!!!!'

That was when I passed out from lack of oxygen. There are most of the shops we have at home plus all the ones I'd only heard of, in multiple, on the same block. It is hard to believe. Or take in all at once. I recommend going slow or risking shock. Or mountains of debt.

Speaking of shoes...

Shoes are an obsession here. I don't really want to go into fashion here. But suffice to say that Japanese women are some of the most fashion forward and fashion conscience consumers on the planet. And shoes play a big part of that. A really big part of that. I've been lusting after shoes ever since I got here.

Shoe sizes here are done in centimetres. Which is fine, I went online and did the conversion, then went shopping today to replace my poor beat up shoes. I wanted to replace them with some of the pretty, pretty, shiny shoes I see everywhere here. After finally screwing my courage up I approached the clerk and asked for my size. After some confused silence, they finally managed to tell me that the largest size they had was at least 3 cm smaller than what I wanted!!! Trips to store after store confirmed this horrifying truth. I have mutant feet. At least in Japan. And until I discover a new shopping area I will be doomed to covet, but never wear the pretty, pretty, shiny shoes.

NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (add the Shatner delivery of Khan!!, and you will get an idea of how deep my despair runs.)

On the plus side of shopping... Many men here are not afraid to embrace pink! Carl doesn't get it. But everyday we see business men with various shades of pink shirts and ties. I know that doesn't flow with the rest of this post, but Carl is truly confused and wanted me to mention it. I think it's all to get the girls. A reason that tends to explain a lot of choices made by men. :) However that doesn't explain the old man with lime green hair and a doll sticking out of the front of his pink sweater... However, fashion knows no age limits.

So that is Colleen in Osaka. Fashionless and shoeless. A problem I will have to solve soon. But until then look at me in my red shirt and jeans in all of our old and new photo links. Miss you all a lot, and look forward to hearing any comments or questions you may have about our blogs or Osaka.

The Garbageman Cometh...isn't it cute!! 

The Garbageman Cometh

Still so many ideas swirling in my tiny brain that I want to share, but I have pictures to go with this one so...The Garbageman Cometh.!

One of the first things we noticed about our apartment was our garbage can...or cans. Just how complicated could trash get??? There was one large one and two smaller ones stacked on top of each other. And there were little labels with general descriptions of what went in each one and "garbage days are," but no dates were added. It's like being told there are very strict rules, punishable by electric shock, and then being told to guess what they are. Go ahead, guess...ZZAAAPPPP!! (Or maybe I was just a little stressed the first week here.)

At orientation we were eventually given the low-down on refuse in Japan. There are 3 basic types of garbage. Burnable, non-burnable and recyclable. What exactly falls into each category varies from area to area. And sometimes these categories can be sub-divided into as many as 21 different kinds trash before you can carry it to the curb.

Luckily we only had to worry about the 3 basic kinds of garbage. And we don't have to worry about a garbage day either. While the other apartments around us have obvious garbage days, as evidenced by the huge piles of garbage on the sidewalk some days, we don't. Just a garbage shack in the parking lot. Which is emptied each day. At 2:30. In the morning. Maybe I would prefer to have a garbage day.

Which brings me to the subject of garbage trucks. Aren't they cute! How could you not want to keep Osaka clean with little harbingers of cleanliness like that? They also come in pink!! These tiny little trucks patrol the streets day and night, picking up garbage wherever it may be. During the day they even play music. 'The Farmer in the Dell,' or 'Camptown Races,' or any of the old familiar ice cream man songs. When I first heard it I ran from the apartment with giddy glee. 'The ice cream man! The ice cream man! The ice cr....garbageman?' The cute pink trunk could barely lift my broken heart from the curb.

Yes, these cute little pastel vehicles play ice cream truck music all day. They also carry three people when making their rounds. One to drive, and two to get out and chuck stuff in the back. Three people crammed in that little truck, full of garbage, with a jack-in-the-box tune being cranked overhead. They are either all crazy or heavily medicated. Garbagemen and women of Osaka I bow before you! You are made of stronger stuff than I. All of this so that people feel happier and more inclined to keep Osaka clean.

And Osaka needs all the help it can get. It's not that it's a dirty city. It most certainly isn't. Osaka in general is very clean. But the amount of garbage that be produced daily is staggering. Because our tourist selves haven't been to the incineration facilities (which I hear are lovely this time of year) I can only guess based on the amount of waste I see everyday.

Now every industrialized country has this problem. But the amount of packaging and gratuitous knick-knacks I see added to every purchase (in this shopping happy society) boggles my mind. Every purchase goes in a separate plastic bag. Hot items get different bags from cold items. Sometimes they're wrapped in extra tissue or plastic. Sometimes there is extra plastic or tissue inside. If you buy a bag of candy, or anything similar, everything item on the inside is individually wrapped. And then there are the collectibles that are sometimes attached as an enticement to buy, and every piece in the inside is individually wrapped as well.

I bought a drink from the 7-11, which was put in a bag. On the bottle, in a bag, there was a tiny bottle in a box. In the bottle there was yet another bag. Inside that there was a small sample of the green tea used to make the drink. Inedible and useless and time consuming (ok I'm curious so sue me).

Another addition to the garbage parade are the specially boxed gift collections of, well almost anything you would ever like to give as a gift. Chocolate, cookies, glasses, playing cards, you name it. In a flat see-through box is a wide array of said item, and each item is, you guessed it, individually wrapped. And when you buy it, it gets extra gift wrapping. All of this garbage on a tiny island with so many people, that has to be justifiably anal-retentive about where and when and how you throw your garbage out.

In conclusion, I like the collection system, but not the consumption system. However it does seem to work in this highly free market economy that only charges me 8% tax on my paycheck... ... ... I love the Garbageman!

Nova usagi 

FAQ #3: The Bunny that Ate MY BRAIN! (aka Would you Like Fries with That?) (aka Work)

I'm sure most of you wonder 'What exactly does an English teacher do?' and 'What does Colleen do all day?' In fact, I bet it is such a perplexing question that you lay awake nights, contemplating the cosmos, begging for answers that will not come. It might even bother you to such an extent that you ponder those questions all day, every day, 'What does Colleen do?' until you cannot even focus on your own job anymore and will soon be seeking employment overseas yourselves. Well, fear no longer Gentle Reader, I am about to take you on a journey through my world.

Let's start with the blog's title. The Nova usagi is pink beak-faced bunny. Every day it greets me, popping out of it's egg-filled...egg (don't ask) with an enthused grin on it's face. In a country that doesn't celebrate Easter (you try explaining Easter to a Buddhist...heck you try explaining it to a North American and see how far you get) it is an odd symbol. But this beak-faced bunny has rejuvenated the Nova image, bringing in students, and more importantly, merchandising money. The bunny is a popular character here in Japan. It's little beaked-face can be found on clocks, key-chains, lamps, and many other products that have nothing to do with learning English. Bunny toy sales brought in millions of yen, and it (the bunny) even had a Top 10 CD. The public face of the company I work for is pink, beak-faced bunny, and it's everywhere! Run for your lives people! The bunny is coming for you too!! The bunny is coming! The BUNNY IS COMING!!!

Actually, the bunny was quite popular a couple years ago, but like many animated fads it faded quickly. You can still see the bunny in many places. But most Nova ads are right now are done by a tuxedoed opera singer. But the bunny did help Nova stay on top as Japan's leader of language education. And it still greets me everyday as I go to work. Beating me into subservience with it's effulgent, effluent joy. Damn you bunny, stop eating my BRAIN!!!

Anyway, back to Nova. Nova is Japan's leader, not only in English education, but also in language education. Our office has English, Spanish, Italian, French, German and Chinese teachers teaching 22 hours a day. Nova has stayed so popular because it markets a very effective method of language education. Every lesson follows the same pattern of Assessment and Focus, Language Input, Tune-In, Listening, and Application (my trainer would be so proud). Every lesson is the same length. Every branch across Japan has a similar layout. And every lesson should be taught in the same way in every branch. Down to the minute. There are allowances for teacher creativity and tailoring the lesson to the student. But one of the big reasons that Nova is so popular is that it is similar to McDonald's method of global domination. Every burger in every chain should be the same. No customer should be surprised with the unfamiliar. And the results should be predictable every time (and I don't mean the flatulence). The assumption, of course, being that every one will learn a language very fast and very easily. And Nova certainly tries to meet that goal.

The upside to such a method is a) it is very effective, and b) I don't have to work too hard. No lesson planning, no marking tests, just simple conversation according to preset plan. My lesson planning consists of the 5 minutes before class as I go through each student's file and pick the best lesson for the group today. And my grading consists of the 5 minutes after class as I write comments about their strengths and weaknesses, and grade them on a drop down list of criteria.

The downside, of course, is that you start to feel like a cog in a giant machine. New teachers are constantly arriving to replace the ones leaving, and you feel a bit expendable. A face in the crowd. A number in a cubicle. Which, according to the computer, is exactly what you are. Language is a commodity, and you are there to serve. Just a pickle in the McDonald's-like monolith of teaching. Would you like fries with that?

Another similarity between the two corporations is well...the headset. I work in Nova's Multimedia Centre. Which means I sit in front of a computer all day and talk to students from across Japan. They get to learn from the comfort of their bedrooms, dining rooms, or utility closets. And I get to teach from the comfort of a tiny 4'x5' cubicle.

So now you're probably wondering, cubicle? how does that work? Being the generous soul I am, I shall tell you.

I arrive at work at about 2:50 pm, Monday-Thursday and Saturday. The Nova Multimedia Centre operates 22 hours a day (3-5 am is maintenance), 7 days a week. It takes over 700 employees to keep it running 22 hours a day, including tech staff, admin people, and of course teachers. There are over 500 teachers employed at this one Nova branch. As I arrive on the 15th floor I see the happy pink bunny. If you were to walk into the reception area with the bunny, your footsteps on the welcoming mat would trigger a chime in the next room, causing a Nova employee to sit in front of a computer with webcam, put on a headset and cheerily greet you. Her image would appear behind the reception desk on a monitor. Letting you, the customer, know just what a high-tech office we are.
Turning left down the hall, I swipe my way into the break room with my card key. It's shift change time so the room is crowded with people entering and leaving. Around me people from a dozen different countries are conversing in a multitude of accents and languages. People from all over Asia, the UK, North America, Australia, and Europe work here. Generally language groups tend to flock together, but almost everyone has some level of English, and then there are some multilingual savants out there too.

I walk to the rolling dividers full of time cards and punch in. Then I walk to my little shoe locker, just large enough for my headset, a notepad, my purse and my shoes. I change out of my street shoes and into my indoor slippers. Because we are a showpiece of the Nova corporation many VIP tours come through. To reduce wear and tear on the offices and to reduce the sight of any unprofessional footwear, everyone must change into indoor shoes or slippers at work. It never fails to make me feel like I'm back in kindergarten. Even though my locker has no lock on it, I leave my purse there. I check the monitors that cover one wall of the room. I check to see what booth I start my day at. My name scrolls by and I head down to the 14th floor. There are 3 teaching floors, mine is the only one with a smoking break room. The room is sealed, but it still smells like I work in an ashtray some days, especially when I get one of the lucky booths close to the break room door.

There are no cell phones, food, drink, electronic devices, or manga books allowed on work floors, to help maintain our professional look. Tours come through here often, and sometimes the cameras above us are used to transmit images of us teaching to conferences and meetings. I log onto the computer and check my schedule. I bring up my first lesson and check the student histories, comments, and recommendations from past teachers. I check to make sure I am centered in the camera, do a sound check with my mic, test my electronic whiteboard, bring up my "Colleen will be with you in a moment" opening slide (complete with my smiling face), wait for the clock to count down to 5 minutes, connect to the GingaNet (Nova internet), and wait for the chime. At exactly 3:10 pm a melodic chime sounds on every floor and over the headsets. It is in a different key and tempo on the floor and on my headset, but when they are both done, I put on my best smile and greet my first students of the day. Around me, many voices, in many languages, chime at the same time, 'Hello!'

In one quarter of my screen is the video output. There I see myself and between 1 and 3 students, sometimes 0 with the occasional no-show. Below that is the lesson plan. On the right hand side of the screen is my student comment page, which I add to throughout the lesson. I can also turn the entire screen into the whiteboard display, which I write on the desk with my electronic pen. I also have access to electronic flashcards and sound files to keep the lessons interesting. With all this technology there is bound to be a technical snafu or two. So there is also a button for tech help. That rings a bell on one side of the floor and a tech worker will run to your booth to help fix the problem. Sometimes it's on the student's end, as they have the same camera/connection GingaNet device as we do. But often it's on our end. Tech has 5 minutes to fix the problem before we have to give the student a free lesson. Often it's an easy fix. But we have to keep teaching and smiling into the camera until it is. The show must go on. And it does, for 40 minutes. Then I wrap up, thank the students, finish my comments, hit save, check my next booth number, and it's on to the next lesson.

And that's how it goes for the rest of the day. Sometimes I have the same booth a few lessons in a row, but often I move from booth to booth for each lesson. Sometimes I have free periods not filled with a lesson, but often my only break is lunch. I teach 8 lessons in a day. Then I head back up to the 15th floor. I reverse my morning routine, outside shoes and punch out. And then I'm walking back down to the train station about at about 10:45 pm.

I teach all levels of students, from the never-spoke-an-English-word-before, where I teach them how to say hello and words like shoes and tie, to the almost native speaking level, where we talk about everything from aging to Zen states. My students are all ages, have all kinds of jobs, and live all over Japan. I have taught people from Okinawa to Hokkaido and everywhere in between. Because of the huge number of students that the Multimedia centre services, I seldom have the same students twice. Sometimes I do, and I enjoy seeing their friendly faces again and getting caught up on their lives, but it doesn't really effect how I teach. The students know what to expect, and we follow the plan.

I have had some amusing lessons, but those are stories for another time. This entry was to let you know what I do with most of my time in Japan. Teaching is not my calling, but I don't dislike my job. In fact, when you get those moments when you get a student to think more about a subject then they ever have before, or when they finally understand a sentence you've been working on for 10 minutes, the joy is immediate and my job satisfaction high. Then you just hope it happens during the next 40 minutes.

I have a lot more to share with you all. Sorry this ran so long. The blogs should get shorter the longer we're here. Coming soon...'The Garbageman Cometh!' and 'Samurai Cats!'

Miss you all!

FAQ #2: Osaka

Let's get the basics out of the way...Osaka is an ancient port city located on Osaka Bay in the Sea of Japan. Rivers criss cross the city, begetting the name "The City of Bridges." Osaka City covers just 222 sq km but has over 2.6 million residents. During the work week the population swells by 1 million. It is big bustling busy city. A sea of concrete. An ocean of people. And yet...

Osaka is a friendly small town, where you would love to raise your children and make a home. It has a very low crime rate (except for bike theft), low taxes (8%), a lovely climate (average temp ranges between 6-28 degrees C, average precipitation peaks at 266 mm/month during rainy season in June and July, and then there's typhoon season...OK, maybe not a lovely climate exactly...), and green space everywhere. One thing I love about Osaka is that Osakans value their greenery with a passion that's hard to describe. They voluntarily groom public parks and playgrounds. Almost every apartment and business has a small garden tended with love and devotion. Often it is in front of the building on what passes for a sidewalk. Sidewalks are sometimes just lines painted on the edge of the narrow road. They are used for pedestrian and bicycle traffic, and growing gardens, and driving and parking cars. People don't walk much here.

(Quick note on drivers in Osaka. An excellent but aggressive group. Considering the multi-level maze of roads that grew up around the old city and the nonchalant pedestrians you have to be damn good to drive here. The conditions for getting a license are stiff. However taxi drivers still have to be blind, suicidal, and willing to STOP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FRIGGING FOUR LANE ROAD! to get a fare.)

Osaka is best described as a cross between Vancouver (the climate, the ocean, the grey winter), Vegas (the lights! the pachinko parlours! the giant neon billboards!) and Salt Lake City (not in the Mormon way, but in the endless sea of black suits, and after you look past the concrete, the horizon is encircled by a ring of shadowy mountains). But the combination of friendly small town people and big big city is a combination hard to match on Canada. It's a city of dichotomies. The people in black suits sitting next to someone wearing every fasion trend of the eighties rolled up into one horrendously blinding outfit. The people who crouch in corners to do anything so rude as smoke or use their cellphone in public, compared with the comedians who will do anything for a laugh, including thrusting their leather hotpant clad crotches in the faces of small children to get them to stop crying (just as strange and much funnier than it sounds! (and it worked!)). There are complete opposites everywhere you look, walking side by side down the street, not just coexisting but thriving together.

I was going to write this huge long essay trying to describe Osaka (hard to believe but this was much longer before the computer ate it) but I haven't been here long enough to give anything more than a superficial portrait. I will try and break down the whys and whats I love (and ummm... dislike) about this city. Coming soon, the Bunny that Ate My Brain! (aka work).

FAQ #1: Our Apartment

I've decided to organize my first few posts around topics rather than daily events, because so much has happened since we've arrived. I've been getting a lot of questions about life here in Osaka, and I'm going to try to organize my thoughts as best as I can, but you'll have to forgive the occasional tangent. So first up, our apartment.

We first arrived at our apartment around 8 in the evening. It was already dark and we wandered from the train station like lost children, following our guide, Steven from Nova, through underpasses and along narrow roads. All the while praying that the cars could see us on the side of the road. That particular path to our apartment did not come equipped with sidewalks, and we..., weren't that steady on our feet after flying for 12 hours and packing the 12 hours previous to that. Finally we rounded a corner and arrived at Joutou Green Mansion. Carl was expecting something more palatial with the name Mansion attached. But here, like home, marketing is everything.

Steven gave us a tour of our apartment, which he could do by standing in the hall. "At my left hand is your bedroom. At my right hand is your washroom. To my back is your kitchen and living room. Enjoy!" Actually, he stayed and turned on our gas, adjusted the hot water heater, and showed us the air conditioner/heater unit. Then he went to the 7-11 and got us some bottled water and batteries for the remote to our AC/heater unit and showed us how to work the thing. Then he told us about a faster and safer way to a different train station (what! no more playing in traffic!). Made sure there was nothing else we needed and left us alone for our first night in Osaka. Our first conversation in the apartment went something like this...

(stunned silence)

(exhausted silence)

Carl: 'Hey... did you notice the cemetery we passed right behind our apartment?'

Colleen: 'I was trying to ignore it...'

Carl: 'I wonder if there are any zombies?'

Colleen: 'I wouldn't know... Could we not talk about...'

Carl: 'It's just like in The Grudge with the angry spirits attacking the girl...'

Colleen: 'shut up Carl...'

Carl: 'And the elevator is just like in The Grudge too. I kept expecting to see faces glaring at us through the window...'

Colleen: 'Shut up Carl...'

Carl: 'Or like in The Eye where she sees a ghost standing in the corner of the elevator and then it slowly starts to turn around and she see that it doesn't have...'

Colleen: 'Shut. Up. Carl!!!'*

Then we laid out our futons, which were waiting for us in a small package outside the door, and I tried to sleep.

Our apartment reminds me of living in a motorhome. Narrow hallways and plastic units. Streamlined and compact. Not exactly small, just not an inch more space than is needed. We were each provided a pair of house slippers in the narrow entryway. Then there is a small step up into the hallway. On the right, you take a small step down into the bedroom. On the left you take a small step up into the bathroom. At the end of the hallway you take a small step down into the kitchen. Our kitchen contains 2 gas stove burners, a small fish broiler, a toaster oven, a plastic fridge with a crisper drawer and a freezer drawer, a small wooden table and 2 chairs. It also came equipped with 2 plates, 2 bowls, 2 mugs, 2 glasses, 2 knives, 2 forks, 2 large spoons, 2 small spoons, 1 butcher knife, 1 cutting board, 1 strainer, 1 large sauce pan, 1 small sauce pan, 1 large kettle, 1 mixing bowl, and 1 teeny tiny 1 egg frying pan. It also came with 3 garbage cans for sorting garbage, which is a story for another post.

The toilet is in it's own room. The pipe that fills the cistern comes out the top of the toilet and fills it from above. This is so you can wash your hands in the same room, saving time and water! I know of noone who actually does this, except Carl.

The shower and tub are separate, and in their own separate waterproof room. The tub is half the length of a North American tub but twice the depth. And there is no overflow drain, so you can fill it up to the rim. In traditional Japanese bathing you shower before you tub so you don't sit in your own dirt, then you rinse off again after the bath. It is very spa like and very relaxing. I turn on the hot water and it becomes my own private sauna.

The washing machine shares a room with the bathroom sink. The washing machine is cold water only. You press 2 buttons, it assesses the laundry load and adds the appropriate amount of water. It isn't that loud (despite any comparisons Carl may draw between it and things possessed). But you don't want to forget you have it on because it occasionally sounds like it's trying to talk or walk out of the room. And you really don't want to leave your cosmetics case on the machine because it could get thrown clear across the room. Not that I've ever done that, left my (or Carl's) cosmetics case on the washing machine. I blame the ghosts.

There is no dryer. In Japan, balconies are not for BBQ's and hanging out. They are for drying laundry, smoking (a lot of smoking, but again, another story), and growing plants. In fact you can annoy your neighbours quite a bit if you BBQ outside. Their clothes then smell like charcoal and meat.

Our apartment has a combination of carpet and laminate flooring except in the tatami room. Tatami mats are thick, finely woven grass mats. Quite silky and smooth. Even slippers are not often worn in tatami rooms. Apartments in Japan are measured in tatami mats, which are 3' x 6'. Each of our three rooms is 6 tatami mats, so 12' x 9'. Except we were told that Osaka mats a re a few inches smaller than in other cities, so round our square footage down a bit. Our tatami room also has the traditional sliding doors as well. We have a 14" TV/VCR unit and a worn leather loveseat. We sit there and watch TV we cannot understand, which is again another story for another post.

Our apartment also came with a small but powerful vacuum, a portable iron and ironing board, a mop and bucket, and a futon beater (not a wife beater Carl!).

So that's our apartment. This post is a little long, but I hope you have a better idea about where we live. Posts to follow soon include; 'Garbage! The schizophrenia of Japan,' 'Shopping! The hobby and the sport!,' and 'Teaching English. Would you like fries with that?.'

I miss you all, and look forward to writing to all of you soon!

Colleen


*(Any reports of Colleen telling Carl to shut up are highly fictionalized and may or may not have happened. No Carls were harmed in the production of this post. Any quotes attributed to Carl were reproduced with the full consent of Carl, whether or not he did or did not say it. Carl is a fully licensed trade name who may not be reproduced without express written consent of licenser. Carl may or may not be a fictional entity. Any resemblance to any Carl living or dead is purely coincidental.)