Shenanigans of the Japanigan variety

Long and disparate post again: short recap of the weekend via photos first, then longer cultural musings.

The Weekend: Onuma. We went to a "Quasi-National Park" which was really an excuse to gather all the foreign students at this swanky resort and hang out and have shenanigans for the day, which I was totally okay with.
The park itself, though, was also gorgeous. Please note that this man has died his poodle's ears pink.

We didn't go on the paid bike tour, which is a shame- those wacky Japanese have invented individual bike carts that link into the one in front to make an enormous chain, as many as 52. Dad- I think you would like this one.And Dad, you'll also like the next one. Hokkaido is also famous for its bears- we couldn't resist posing along with a couple of kuma. Please note that I'm wearing my Happy Bear Hat, which I now take with me every time I travel to show the bears being happy in as many locations as possible.



Though we missed out on the chain bikes, we did rent some buggies- you can't see it here, but Phil's buggy is riding on the rear bumper of Pedro's and my buggy after he rammed us. We then swapped our buggy for a tandem, which was pretty exciting considering my partner had never ridden a bike. Then I found all the children's play places! This jungle gym castle is not only meant for children, who are smaller than me, but also Japanese children, who are much smaller than me.

And then the スポーツ・スライダ！This is what I took on the way up the hill, sitting on basically a skeleton luge on a chairlift before plunging down the metal track.
Dinner at the resort was highly nom-worthy. Tempura, sashima, shabu shabu, rice, fruit, scallop, pickled vegetables, and udon- a 和食 feast!
After dinner was the talent show- classes IIB and IIA sang　世界に一つだけの花, one of the most popular songs in Japan. I haven't yet decided whether the translated lyrics are genuinely inspirational or wildly cheesy, but I really like the song anyway.


Once I got back, the family had just got Wii Sports Resort, which equates to lots of thrashing flailing video game fun that require very little language ability. Here, my sisters canoe enthusiastically.
But apparently I'm no longer worth my salt as a gamer- I nearly redeemed myself through the bike racing game tonight enough to make up for the number of times I've lost to 9 year old girls, but then my homemaker host mom schooled me at bowling. I am ashamed.

Sunday, back in Kunebetsu, I went to a Band Festival that host sisters Nozomi (trumpet) and Hikari (clarinet) were playing in. Their band director is frickin' intense. My elementary school band never would have attempted the level of pieces they play, and it would probably would have been appropriate for some of the lower levels of my high school band. Sheesh. But I continue to be a celebrity among the children- that day I was deemed their very tall god when I demonstrated my prowess at lifting them to the top of the monkey bars. Girl in the front row, second to the left kept on yelling ”外人，やってやって！”　（Foreigner, do me next!") And then host sister Hikari explained because "かれはあたしのイートン君“(He's my Eaton!) she got to go next. I was struck dead with adorableness.

Today's kimono class: although there's a huge amount of elaborate care put into how the girls are supposed to properly wear kimono, for the guys it's a little boring. Put on the coat. Tie it with a belt. Tada!

And now a discussion of things. The Light Fellowship inquires what preconceptions I've started to shed, but if anything, I'm just more aware of the ways in which I still feel trapped by preconceptions. I feel like college suitemate Nick (currently in Tokyo) hit the nail on the head when he said that the Japanese don't expect foreigners can actually do the things associated with Eastern culture. Like in the aforementioned kimono class, the instructors tried to do everything on us rather than demonstrate or explain (and the male yukatas are simple).

Conversely, I feel indoctrinated that we as foreigners need to be so hyper-sensitive to cultural mores that its been suffocating a lot of my own personality. In Japan, I've been far more reserved and quiet than I would be anywhere else. For instance, I realized there's no such thing as a high five here (I tried to give my host brother Yume one after we went hiking, and he was scared to walk down a step hill, so I piggybacked him down). But then with all the things I've had shoved down my throughout about propriety and personal humility in Japanese culture, I felt as if trying to explain the high five would be a taboo of self-aggrandizement and personal space. That can't be right- high fives are awesome!

This feeling relates back to my previous rant on being a child in this culture. When I'm out in public with my host mom, we inevitably encounter some of her friends and stop to chat. Sometimes I'm not introduced, and just hover awkwardly in the background, noticing that this other mother's 2nd grade child is doing the same, either not following or not caring about the adult conversation. And when I am introduced, it's always to a chorus of praise about how good at Japanese I am, and then the adults lose interest in me before I have the chance to prove that I'm a somewhat intelligent individual. I never felt like this before the homestay, when I went out exploring on my own, set my own schedule, and spoke with adults as an adult. Now I feel like a one-trick pony paraded out in front of the crowd. I am so sick of ”上手ですね！”, the compliment they give to any foreigner who can speak a single word of Japanese. Empty sentiment dictated by social norms dominate the Japanese style of speaking- there's a lot of fluff to any sort of polite situation which still seems pretty unnecessary.

My image of a stereotypical family structure is a little harder to relinquish. I don't quite get the adult dynamic in my family- host dad Yoshinao leaves early (as in before I'm up in the morning, 6:30) and gets home late (often after I've gone to bed, anytime between 10-1). So basically he never exists in the house, I go days at a time without seeing him, and there hasn't been anything resembling a conversation between us since my first day. I feel indebted to him in that he's the breadwinner for the roof under which I'm staying, and everytime host mom Naoko makes a delicious dinner or brings home a sweet from the コンビニ its from his income. They have separate bedrooms, but when I brought up the topic host mom was quick to assure me that was about ease of sleeping and personal space, not anything negative in their relationship. It's just strange for me to see the work/home dynamic polarized so far between the couple. I can't say how "typical" this is of Japanese families at large, and there really isn't a particular profile of family that tends to host the various students, but I've heard from several sources that for a country so progressive in technology Japan remains pretty far behind on gender equality. I guess my understanding of these things is still a work in progress.

Beatin' up mofos

Deep thoughts to come at a later point. For now, pretty pictures!

Host sister Hikari tries on my jacket. She later tried the shoes, which were boats to her itty bitty feet.

Engrish: "There is no guy who does not believe in Victory here!"
I am inspired.

水あめ, (Mizu-ame or water candy). Looks like honey but is more like caramel.

HIF offers us the chance to take classes in Kendo (stick whacking), Judo (mofo throwing) and Kyudo (archery). Here, Ashok gallops into battle, ready to scream "MENNNN" and whack a mofo in the head. There's particular battle cries for different targets- we learned "men" for the head, "kote" for the wrists, and "dou" for the side.

I also beat up mofos aggressively. We used some training dummies and some real people as targets. Sorry Koh.

Phil likes violence!

Julia unleashes her beastliness.

Also started judou, which is unreasonably badass. They started us off with a series of increasingly challenging warm-up exercises (somersaulting, somersaulting out of a handstand, somersaulting into splits, backward somersaulting into a handstand). With the little bit of age 6 gymnastics training I have, I actually did all right with these. (Although Kelvin, we still need to take that tumbling class at the gym). Then we learned how to throw our sparring partners! I felt a little guilty, since it wasn't a reciprocal back and forth thing (if you don't know how to be thrown properly you can get injured pretty badly) so I just threw my buddy Kento a lot.

Today is the weekend excursion to Oonuma, quasi-National park. I've seen that "quasi-National" title attached to Oonuma all the time and have no idea what it actually designates, but it should be a fun trip. Updates to come later.

Now for a real post...

The following post comes in three (longish) sections: one that's moderately serious followed by two that are amusing but less so.

MODERATELY SERIOUS (DUN DUN DUH!)
The Light Fellowship asked if I've encountered any cultural misunderstandings with my hosts, but I really can't think of any I've had. If anything, I feel like the the Light program over-prepares us for culture shock. For instance, nowhere is it mentioned that Sapporo and the surrounding cities are the least "formal" in all of Japan for the levels of politeness expected in spoken language. My host family barely ever uses particles, and I started off constructing elaborate ladders of expression that they understood and replied to before I'm halfway through the ritualistic endings. My friend Yiwen (PhD candidate in history at Stanford) has ranted at length about her beef with Asian Exclusivism, the idea that Japan/China/East Asia in general are so culturally removed from anyone else that we can't understand them. The fundamental motives I see driving my homemaker host-home revolve a deep love for her three kids, despite the difficulty of her oldest son being severely mentally handicapped and her husband working till late each night. That drive is not at all alien, even if some of the niceties of the gift giving culture and social hierarchy are.

But all the understanding I have comes with limitations. Even though my family's been very friendly and easygoing with me, and I've accomplished a lot (today's win came from describing my allergy-induced dry eyes to the pharmacist to order the right kind of eye drops, when I've heard Japanese drugstores can be notoriously difficult) I'm still intellectually a child in this culture. I can ride the train by myself, or stay out late, or order a glass of sake, but none of these relate to the level of expression I can manage. I'm getting increasingly more competent but that just reveals how much more I can't yet do... even asking for help with the eye drops was accompanied by the confession "I can't read any of this". I suppose the conversations I've most enjoyed in English with close friends are about their beliefs and philosophies, incredibly nuanced pieces of thought and debate that I can't even begin to describe through my Japanese.

This is not to say I can't have an adult conversation. Yesterday I described what I had once discussed with Young, (freshmen year roommate who did the HIF program last summer), his idea that having everyone raised in a nigh-identical culture (as is the case in minority-less Japan) may be superior to what we usually laud as the American melting pot. But the range of such conversations I can handle is determined by whatever vocabulary sets I can apply (移民族国 FTW!), and these are only the vocabulary sets I've already been spoon-fed by a sensei. Independent Elliot resents.

Which brings me to the classes, which I haven't yet discussed via the blogosphere. I'm in Intermediate 2B, which isn't bad (most of the Yalies who finished 2nd year are here too) but the grammar doesn't challenge me. I've been at this whole "learning a language thing" for 5 years now (granted, 3 years of Lewis and Clark High School language equated to only one semester of Yale study) and it kills me that there are people who've done it for one year who are in the same place. (Also granted, they're native Chinese so they can read anything in Japanese, and I'm better at speaking in class, but still). The topics of the dialogues (ordering food at a restaurant and giving gifts) are the same kind I've seen since my first semester of Japanese study. And I feel like much of the program is on rails, holding my hand through everything (quite literally in the pottery class, where the instructor mumbled quietly as he puppet my hands for me on the wheel). My bad boy resistance to this comes in the form of writing totally kick-ass essays on all the homework assignments, with less obvious responses and longer explanations full of grammar we're not supposed to know yet. I'll keep on writing these awesome essays until the senseis feel bad about themselves. HA!! THAT'll show 'em.

I attract attention wherever I go. It's not exactly a surprise considering how blatantly foreign I look (not that many Japanese stand at 188 cm and reek of Scandinavian heritage) but its a lot. Sometimes its fun, like getting swarmed by adorable children who want to love me, and sometimes its less so, like children who stop dead in the middle of the street when they see me.

I suppose my very existence in Japan comes with misunderstanding. The notion that I can speak at all is inevitably a surprise. I've been told "Harro" by any number of people (not even an exaggeration- even though that's how Americans tend to mock the Japanese accent when being less than PC, that's the only way I've heard them say "hello") and they gasp when I respond with a "konnichiwa". Doing research on the mountain for my independent study today, I said "konnichiwa" and "sumimasen" as I passed a guy on the narrow path- he gave me a funny look, but then as I was leaving he said something else at me not expecting I would respond- but I did, and we got into a conversation about the environmental research I'm trying to pull off.

As a whole, this rant is not to say my experience here is not awesome- because it is. It's just that learning is hard. Who'da thunk it?

And now a new section...
CONVERSATIONS I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO UNDERSTAND (BUT I DID)
The first such conversation came when I commented on the Disney Princess placemat at dinner my host sister had. I mentioned that Hillary's favorite princess was Ariel, and then adorable baby sister Nozomi launched into a long tirade about clam-shell bras and nipples. I can still barely comprehend my sisters because they talk super fast in adorably high-pitched voices, but the gestures and the use of おっぱい (nipple!) was unmistakable.

Yesterday in the department store food court, I leaned back in my chair and stretched, which prompted my host mom to karate chop my exposed belly. When host sister Hikari tried to follow suit, host mom explained that when you do that you're only supposed to hit the belly and not the penis. I thanked her for the sage advice.

Also, the form of punishment that my host mother uses on the kids is a chucky doll. The kids have seen many horror movies like Child's Play, and are convinced that Chucky lives in America, so they ask me about him everyday. When they're bad, the mother says that Chucky is coming to play or brings out the doll (cue the girls screaming and hiding all over the house) and when she feels the kids are satisfactorily cowed she reminds them that Chucky only lives in America.

So as a result, when most adorable nine year olds draw you a picture, it's something cute like faeries or animals. My host sisters instead draw me pictures of demented man-doll Chucky savagely disemboweling a naked lady.

A note host mom left out for the kids- the bottom says "If you don't listen to what I've said, I'll call Chucky"

This has gotten pretty long, so in short,
COOL THINGS THOSE WACKY JAPANESE HAVE CREATED:
~Japan has invented 卵の販売機 (vending machines that dispense eggs by the dozen)
~self-moving carwashes (as in, the drive-through kind that takes a block in the US takes two small car-lengths. You park and the machine tunnel 洗車 moves back and forth over the car)
~self made packets of ソフト・アイス (where you place a packet of flavor into a compressy machine and it dispenses soft serve ice cream out perfectly into a cup lined with corn flakes).

For your entertainment, some wonderful Engrish from the train. (Click to zoom in).
Please note the thief and the owl to denote "sneak".

CATS

It's official... videos of me spinning cats are a hit in any language.



The host family was even more impressed by the original Wiggy Spin, marveling that he doesn't even need a box to spin on the hardwood floors.

OMG CHILDREN

I am officially a rockstar. I went with my host mom to pick up the girls from their brass band practice (they play trumpet and clarinet). As the students filed out, several of them stopped dead in their tracks to stare at the tall blonde gaijin. I talked with two of the 6th graders (they thankfully spoke slower than Nozomi and Hikari) who squealed over my every word as I reigned over a sea of people half my size. They actually worshipped my feet to see how large they are. I was overwhelmed by the swarm as they pressed me against a wall and asked questions bursting with enthusiasm. Hakodate itself is a decently international tourist spot, but the neighboring city Kunebetsu where my family lives is pretty quiet and sees far fewer non-Japanese.

I also got an invitation to go back to the school and practice trumpet sometime- I'll have to show the children how to play and sing our Bulldog fight song sometime.

Little sis Hikari is far left in the second row.
Can you find me?
Once you do, notice the mild look of fear in my eyes.

This photo better captures the scale of the wave of babies.

Today I bought the JR Rail pass at the station- I was pretty pleased with myself for filling out nearly the entire form that was written almost exclusively in kanji, much of which I didn't really know.

Plus, I finally figured out how to tell the twins apart. Nozomi more consistently wears pink, and Hikari tends towards green. Plus Nozomi has a tiny beauty mark above her lip. Though I appreciate the suggestion of post-it notes, I think I can now handle it on my own.

And for mainly my own entertainment as I mentally plot how to indoctrinate the children of Japan with Yale spirit, a shoddy translation of Bulldog into Japanese:

ブル！ Buru!
ブル！ Buru!
ワンワンワン Wan wan wan
イライ・イエル Eri Yare

ブル！ Buru!
ブル！ Buru!
ワンワンワン Wan wan wan
チームは失敗するまい teemu ha shippai suru mai

イライの男児受けを割ると Irai no danji uke o waru to
あの全長留意ぞ！ano zenchou ryuui zo!

ブル！ Buru!
ブル！ Buru!
ワンワンワン Wan wan wan!
イライ・イエル Eri Yare!

HOST FAMILY をします

I finally met the host family. I was terrified of the two little girls, who are cute beyond reason but talk far too fast and casually for someone spoon-fed textbook japanese to follow. No rejection is as complete and merciless as a 9 year old Japanese girl who suddenly loses all interest in you because you have no idea what she just said.

At first I struggled epically as all the japanese I ever knew left me, but gradually I've been able to talk with my parents. They like watching Child's Play (チャッキ) and Saw (ソー) as a family. And it turns out the train station is literally a block away, so this eases the transportation nightmare I previously saw.

Nozomi and Hikari are identical twins. All look same? I kept track of them by their shirt colors but then they got into pajamas. I'll have to start over again tomorrow.

But fortunately, the girls and I bonded over making origami squids, or I least I tried to follow the directions while they said ”こうして、こうして” and finally did it for me. I later explained I wanted to become a パテイシエ (it's a Japanified french word for pastry chef) which elicited extreme cries of ヘエエエエエエエ？！

Highlight of my life: there was a cheesy news story on about "The Secret Millionaire", and in an effort to teach her daughters important values, the mother starts exclaiming in her best bimbo voice "ミリオナイアの妻になりたい！” She then continued in a more imperative tone- "サーデイアラビアはどう？たくさん石油がある！サーデイアラビアでオサマの妻になって！”

The fact that my host mother told her daughters to go to Saudi Arabia in order to marry Osama and become a millionaire's wife is proof that my family will be awesome.

No pictures of the host family yet, so instead a pic of my last hotel dinner:
bento boxes of sushi and coconut pocky. Major yum.

No sympathy for the vertically challenged

Now that classes have started, the number of blog-worthy adventures and photos have dwindled a bit, but I did find a great game this afternoon where I steal things from Thanh (like her pet hamster Hermes that she lied to me and said she got a real hamster and I was heartbroken when I tried to visit her room and it was a fake hamster. A hamster of lies and deceit) and use my tactical superiority to keep it away from her. Some would say that my strategy is nothing more than being significantly taller, but it works.


Anyway, homestay begins tomorrow. We'll see how that works out, with suddenly being not even remotely in control of my space, my sovereignty, or my curfew. I'm still nervous about how to handle the crippled child, but there's not much to do except go with the flow and be sensitive. I spent a long time trying and failing to find my host family's address on a map of Hakodate- turns out the reason I couldn't find them is because they're in a different city altogether. When I first started asking around, I was told their district of 久根別 (kunebetsu) in the neighboring city 北斗市 (Hokutoshi) was 3 hours away. I can't deal with that commute twice a day. But the most accurate estimate I've gotten from the program office is that the Japan Rail trainline from their city to mine is 20 minutes. Add 20 minutes from Hakodate Eki to the school building, plus however long it takes from their house to the Kunebetsu Eki, and this could be substantial. The whole thing is estimated at an hour by bike, which will probably be my best bet if their house is far from the station, too. Nothing to do but see tomorrow when I finally meet the family.

An (unrelated) nice pic from 函館市公演, which flanked the children's play place 子供の国 as we traveled to 谷地がしり温泉 over the weekend. The mountains and fog here are incredible.

ごめんなさい

Dear The Environment,

You know that I like you. You know that I'm a big fan of recycling and sustainable foods and not eating endangered animals. But it's not my fault that whales are so frickin' delicious. Maybe if you didn't make the things that I moralistically should not eat in good conscious so tasty, we could avoid this whole dilemma. It's not you, it's whales. Maybe we need to see other people for just a little bit until you can forgive me for ordering the fried kujira burger at Lucky Pierrot, the local hamburger chain that is ironically the most popular restaurant in all of Hakodate. But hey, I hope we can still be friends.

Kisses,
~Elliot

Baby seals, squids, yams

Saturday was an incredible day for conversing with Japanese people. I started off the morning wandering through the fish market. My group included Nao, whose oral Japanese far surpassed anyone in the group, but pretty soon I was holding my own chatting it up and getting samples from fishmongers. Cool discovery of the morning: いかすみのアイスクリム、squid ink flavored ice cream.

Also note Chris' shirt: 日本語勉強中(in the middle of studying Japanese). This was the best conversation starter with all the natives who chuckled at us.

By the way, my squiddy friends of the marching band, I'm taking photos of every cool squid-related thing I find. And because Hakodate is the squid capital of the world, there will soon be a gallery of epic proportions.

In an attempt to find the young person's night life of Hakodate, my friends goaded me into chatting it up with attractive young Japanese girls. I was told afterwards that apparently I kind of intimidated them with what has suddenly become my "exotic" look of blue eyes, blonde hair, and manly ways. It's equally likely that they were timid about dealing with clumsy, badly spoken foreigners, but as the first explanation is far more flattering to my ego that's the one I choose to believe.

But in exploring the historical district further, we were invited into a Buddhist temple's service. I couldn't begin to explain anything of what was going on (I think the service was performed in classical chinese? At least the prayerbook we saw was written that way), but it was pretty.



With a group, I scaled Hakodate Yama again in spite of the impenetrable fog. It was a longer route and slower going than my previous run, but the fog gave the whole place this mystical quality. At the souvenir shop up top (not open on when I visited in the early morning) I ate caramels on the top of Hakodate Yama that had been flavored as cheesecake, corn, beer, and potato. Corn was the definite winner, being nigh identical to corn pops in candy form. Also tried ICE CREAM INSIDE OF WAFFLES. And then I found candies with baby seals, and resisted the urge to club them. After writing an enormous term paper last semester on how the sealing industry was a precursor to the struggles of territorial control and suzerainties between the US and Japan, any reference to seals in Japan has become even cooler to me than seal references in general. Dorky, I know.

Fog!
Caramel ice cream inside of waffle in a box. Brilliant.
And baby seals, urging me to buy "stick pie"

But then we went to a soba shop that was built into this sweet old couple's house- Ishizawa san and his wife are basically the coolest old people ever. I kept on asking about how the noodles were made in an attempt to stir up conversation (we were the only patrons in a small, homey room) and pretty soon they told us their life history. Even though much of the conversation was taken over by a more linguistically skilled friend and I couldn't track when they both started telling stories at the same time, it was great to make friends out of the blue like that. They even brought us special desserts, made from congealed cooking water produced in the Soba making.

Afterwards, we checked out a traditional bar style alley, with tiny shops (no more than 6 seats or so) stacked on top of each other. I got to talking again with Hi-chan and Maa-kun, my new favorite sassy bartending duo, and after I mentioned I had just turned 20 they brought me a special birthday pudding. How did they know how much I love pudding? Then one of the other patrons there brought our group some sweets made from yams. I frickin' love yams. This day was amazing for how many people I connected with through speaking Japanese, but I suddenly realize the sever lack of small gifts for giving to new friends now that I see how many I've received just by being friendly.

Also from the top of the mountain- a shrine written in classical chinese (we found an old school kanji to write "20" as 廿)

A list of reasons why my birthday in Japan is awesome:

Were I still in the United States, I would be 19. I have not yet lived for 20 years. But according to my passport and my position relative to the international date line, I'm 20 a day early. It was a little anti-climactic because Japan basically never cards, but I obtained two bottles of personally, legally purchased sake that later partied with me in the hot springs. Aw yeah.

I think I was trying to look pimpin' here. I think I just look squinty instead.
Note the recently purchased Sake bottles and mochi cakes.

I spent my birthday afternoon and night hanging out with a bunch of naked guys in hot water, one of whom is apparently my Sigma Chi bro fromt the Harvard chapter. We were later joined by an older native guy, and we actually made some pretty good conversation with him. His lack of teeth was a major block to our understanding, but he gave us directions to a good ramen spot for dinner.

Did I mention that Japan sells sake in juice boxes?

Actually among the most un-delicious experiences of my life, but it was okay because it was in a juice box.

After a long ordeal of asking directions, we finally plotted out the right bus route to get to the いさりび間　Isaribikan Hot Springs. But the only way to make it there was to sprint from the hotel to the station. We received claps and cheers from a fishmonger on the streets as we raced to our destination.

Never have I been so pleased with myself to be on a bus.

List of fun things I've eaten:
~Salted squid guts. I could feel them for hours afterwards.

~Squid Somen (noodles). I thought this meant I'd have squid served with noodles, but then it was actually squid sliced into noodles.

When I received my dish, I kept on insisting that this was noodles and there would be squid beneath, but then it turned out the entire thing was just squid.

~Whole Squid. It was five inches long.

Not actually what I ate, but the most adorable manhole cover I've ever seen.

~Ramen. With squid in it.


But before that, I first celebrated my coming of age by running up a mountain at 5 am. I know, right? But my sleep schedule is still an epic fail from jet lag, and it was far too bright and pretty out in the morning. Over two hours, I conquered 函館山, which is more steep, tall, and confusing than I had expected. I spent a long time even trying to find a road that would get me there (apparently running straight towards the big rock doesn't work) because Japan's streets are whack. The signs along the way explain the history of the place in English, and the signs along the mountain trails explained about the local birds in the area (I was very excited to see this after complaining about there being nothing but the scariest crows I've ever encountered). I sadly didn't bring my camera for the incredible view.

Early in the afternoon, as we tried out some authentic Japanese gelato at a place called Saltimbocca (fun fact: most popular restaurant in Hakodate is a hamburger joint), we were asked by a Kyoto native to write our dreams on a large card and pose with him for a project. Through some horribly awkward questioning, we finally figured out he has a friend doing the same in Kyuushuu, to see how people's dreams vary between the north and south of Japan. Our dream, that fits into this weekend's goal setting homework for the weekend: 私達は日本語で上手になりたい！(We want to become good at Japanese. And pose in the most Asian fashion possible.)

I seduced two cats and a kitten with my sultry cat yodeling. My gathered audience didn't believe in my skills but I knew I would conquer.

Also, this hotel has MORE FREE JAMMIES. I love Japan.

The start of hakodate

After a morning full of written exams for class placement, I just had my oral interview, still fighting the massive jetlag. In the first sentence out of my mouth, I forgot how to say America. And in case you didn't know, this, the way to say “America” in Japanese is アメリカ. In roman characters: Amerika. Seriously. Then I was asked about what books I've read recently. I remembered that I just finished this really long, really awesome book at home, but for the life of me couldn't remember anything about it, including its name. So, I ended up talking about Marley and Me which I had watched on the plane ride over. It's probably a good thing I didn't remember the actual book because I would have no way to explain the artsy broken prose and complex familial ties and journey of self-acceptance from The Shipping News by Ann Proulx. But then we got to talk about swine flu, which I was much better at and could tell my sweet story about getting quarantined in Tokyo.

I ate some things that might have been whale blubber but were probably radish, and some things that I thought were mushroom but might have been squid. Usually, the recommended procedure for consuming strange found objects is PERCEIVE – IDENTIFY- EAT. But since I've already failed that piece of sage wisdom, I'll run with PERCEIVE – EAT – MAKE VAGUE CONJECTURES AS TO THE DUBIOUS NATURE OF WHAT IS IN MY MOUTH for now.

I also found some children in our class building, who asked about the bathroom. And I gave them directions. Native speakers ask for me directions because I'm straight pimpin'. Aw yeah. I even answered their questions about proper shoe procedures for the inside. I am a sexy shoeless god of words.

And since I don't yet have good pictures of Hakodate where I am now residing, pontificate upon the viewing pleasure induced by the following public signage above a pachinko parlor. It's okay until you start to consider what those two stick figures are alternating doing to that lady stick figure.

The first period of wakefulness and many hours of travel-induced crazy

Last night, or whatever period of time ago it was that I last went to bed, I played Plants Vs. Zombies. I played it as it is my sworn duty as an environmentally friendly foe of the undead. Normally when you're told "A HUGE WAVE OF ZOMBIES IS APPROACHING", and then you spud-ow those zombie mofos, you get a present, a new seed with new abilities. But then instead, I got a magically shiny note! I opened it up and this is what it said:
NOT ACCEPTABLE. So I hightailed it out of the country, to a place that would be more zombie free. Fortunately, after hitch-hiking my way down to San Francisco I managed to flag down a plane on the runway, conveniently enough heading for Narita, the Tokyo International Airport.

They had me write some things. I did a fair amount of it in Kanji, including the address of my stay, which after writing four different times on separate forms still makes no sense to me. Please don't notice the fact that I forgot how to write 勉強 or probably misspelled my own middle name in the katakana alphabet.
But fancy that, I didn't make it very far.
At least my smooth-talking Japanese convinced them that Nyquil is a 医者が必要じゃなくてどこでも買える薬。Maybe my hot bod helped when they stuck the thermometer in my arm-pit.

Once I had gained my freedom, I encountered many strange and wonderful things, and failed at flushing this particular toilet.

Not pictured: the shower for babies on the other side of the personal space bubble stall.

But despite all the wonders I may come to find, this statue in the Tokyo airport reminded me just why I love America.

And it's not even Day 1 of the program. Tomorrow is the placement exam which requires waking up at 5 for travel.

EDIT: An update of the utmost importance. Holy crap guys. The hotel in Tokyo where I'm staying before heading to Hakodate tomorrow HAS FREE JAMMIES.