This will be my last entry from Japan.
It is the final night, I have just finished the final day, and it's very hard to say goodbye to this country. It doesn't help that they're playing sad music in the Apple Store right now, which I have decided to make my last post in, as it has been a home base for technology. I tried a little last minute fullscreen Google Mappage on that 30" beast, and I'm making this entry.
Today has been perfect. I made my way to Agata-san's house for the 1 o'clock lesson, which I was fifteen minutes late for, but that didn't matter as it was cancelled. I didn't mind, despite that with no bicycle it was a thirty minute walk and a thirty minute train ride, bbecause she gave me lovelyly lunch and we talked for ages. She let me play her guitar and she showed me some martial arts, and we exchanged email addressed and I gave her the quasiblog.net address. She was far too kind and gave me gifts for my mother and for a "future girlfriend". I popped in on Yoko's grandparents on the way back, and gave them a final thank you and a goodbye. On the long walk back, I pondered a bit which direction to go, and while waiting at a train crossing, a taxi started hooting at me. I looked, and they opened the door, and a woman I slightly recognised beckonned me in. I got in, against London common sense, and I remembered that it was a woman I'd taught with Stuart a while ago. She used the taxi to give me a lift to the station, and refused payment. She didn't speak a word of English to me, but we still got along all right. But it was the perfect example of how this country is, with a display of reasonless kindness from a woman I barely know.
Emma's waiting outside in the heat. My father's picking us up from the airport tomorrow, but I still reall don't want to leave. Kaori and Katou and Hosei and the new friends I have yet to meet are in Iceland. It's quite strange to think of them there, they're spending time in Iceand, while I'm in their home, the opposite: Steamland. Though the heat has been more barable recently.
We met Emma's friend tonight and she bought us a lovely Udon dinner, but it meant I missed the last Working Holiday class. That's a shame, but it'll have to do. I'll send Yoko's key to her, and send copies of the Mammoth photo to her later. I will talk more about the end of my J-Pan experience when I return and have my own unlimited computer access, but until then, goodnight Eastern world, thank you Osaka. I will be back. Fastest month ever.
This is Ripton, from Osaka, goodnight.
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Thursday, 11 August 2005
And I Could Write A Song 100 Miles Long
The first class I went to with Stuart to the Working Holiday Centre was the Wednesday class, which was the beginners, and the second highest advanced class. This has changed a lot since I knew it, with people switching around and moving from class to class, making some classes tiny, and others huge. The advanced class today was so full that I had to sit at the end of the table, which didn't happen before.
A week and a bit ago, a new girl joined the beginner class. I saw her again today. When she joined, I spoke to her one on one in her first lesson, and her level wasn't brilliant, but she was capable of communicating. If I'd been allowed Japanese, we would have spoken easier. But what made her memorable to me was not her language skill, it was that she was an ordinary Japanese girl, barely in her twenties, starting life and learning a language like so many Japanese people her age are doing, but her left arm was littered with self inflicted scars.
It wasn't the first time I'd seen anything like it. I'd been around an alternative group of people for much of my teen life, though never actually belonging. So self harm and the like was not new to me. But it was a culture shock. While it is never correct for me to do so, I generally judge people by their appearance, but save actual judgments for after I have communicated with them, and can actually start to get an idea of their character, or at least the character they emit. In a country where I am unable to communicate with most citizens, and I have so many preconceptions to the people I see and try to communicate with, I tend to form a stereotype based on appearance. By looking at her face, I formed a complete idea of what she was like, and then looking at her arm, that image was shattered.
It wasn't the shock of a Japanese person doing it, it was the shock of my image being so incorrect, and that I didn't expect it. It made me realise that I have so easily misjudged so many people, and I have so easily ignored histories that can so greatly affect people.
I know a lot about pain during childhood, and as CM has mentioned in his blog recently, school sucks. What this girl taught me is that this pain is carried through to so many people, that I meet and talk to, and that I know or don't know of. With self harm, the scars are literal and are visible. But self harm is such a small part of pain that meeting this one girl reminded me of how many people suffer tremendously during their lives. Being reminded of how many people died in Kobe ten years ago made this suffering seem trivial, and the total suffering the population of the world endures consistently reminded me of how little one person matters, and how much one person matters.
In all, all I mean is that when I meet people, I assume a history, and the history I initially assumed for this girl was so far off, that I wonder about the sufferings I have not known in the people I know and care about, and the people I don't know.
It makes my feelings seem like absolutely nothing.
The last class, which was packed, went about with me not having a consistent talking partner, and now having much to do in the way of help, as the class is pretty competent and capable. It makes me think about how much the teacher actually does, and I made a decision to be more active in my teaching. After the class, they were so impressed that I could write my name in Kanji that they all asked for my autograph. Well, most of them. I was feeling great until I wrote it wrong, but the amusing side took precedent.
When the signatures had subsided, several photos were taken, and then almost everyone went to an izakaya, where we had lots of new foods thrown at us. I had the usual, raw tuna, roasted "long fish", cheese balls and some salad, until the oddest food I have ever come across was put on my plate (figuratively). I was offered a piece of chicken sashimi. Put bluntly, it's a chunk of raw chicken breast, fresh from the bird. I have no sympathy for Japanese chefs, they have an easy life that mainly involves cutting. I dipped it in some kind of ginger paste and soy sauce, and tried it. I chewed about half of it at first. You know the texture of chicken that you feel when you are slicing it? It's kind of gummy and soft and consistent. That's exactly how it is if you eat it. The ginger didn't really hide the taste, and it tastes how it smells. I stopped chewing and forced myself to swallow then and there, because I try to avoid spitting out food until it is a last resort.
I drank all my water, and sat there shaking for a while. They all asked if I was ok, which I wasn't, but I tried unsuccessfully to hide it. Eventually even Emma asked if I was ok, and she was sitting quite far from me and involved in other communication. When I told her what I ate, she went slightly more pale. People apologised for making me eat it. I tried other things, unable to shake the feeling of chewing it. I realised that the only way to deal with this kind of disgusting experience was to repeat it successfully. I picked up the last bit of chicken (identical in every respect to the chicken I have at home before I cook it), and I dipped it again, and I ate it. I pretended it was raw fish, and ate it normally. I did actually feel much better, and less sick after the second piece, and I know now that I can eat it if I have to, or if someone needs impressing. Emma said she felt physically sick watching that.
There were long goodbyes, and lots of exchanging of emails, and even though I knew that in almost all certainty I will not see these people ever again, I told them I'd see them in two years. They are an amazing group of people, and very interesting to talk to. I will miss every person I met and spoke with at Working Holiday. Tomorrow is the last class, but I will probably miss it, as I am meeting one of Emma's friends tomorrow at six, and not close to the centre.
A never traveled much independently, so this trip has meant more goodbyes than I have dealt with before. Admittedly, the hardest has been Yayoi. I dealt with it with the idea of maybe seeing her again, but her email today confirmed that it would not happen. Of the people I have met, I will miss her the most. In her email, she included the photos that she'd taken during the times we were together, and when I get some resizing software to hand, I'll post them. But it was a hard email to read, and a hard one to reply to, but of the people I have met here, I have the most confidence in seeing her again, so I will not be sad in my goodbye.
This has been a long post, and in honesty I don't expect many people to be reading, especially considering the number of comments I get these days. But now is the last day. I'm about to hit the final 24 hours. I'm losing a lot going home, but there's a lot waiting for me. If the world could be smaller, it would be better because I would say goodbye less, but for every person I say goodbye to, I will say hello to another. My network has jumped in size, and I can never regret that. I will be back, and I will try my hardest to keep in touch with the people who have made this holiday so wonderful.
A week and a bit ago, a new girl joined the beginner class. I saw her again today. When she joined, I spoke to her one on one in her first lesson, and her level wasn't brilliant, but she was capable of communicating. If I'd been allowed Japanese, we would have spoken easier. But what made her memorable to me was not her language skill, it was that she was an ordinary Japanese girl, barely in her twenties, starting life and learning a language like so many Japanese people her age are doing, but her left arm was littered with self inflicted scars.
It wasn't the first time I'd seen anything like it. I'd been around an alternative group of people for much of my teen life, though never actually belonging. So self harm and the like was not new to me. But it was a culture shock. While it is never correct for me to do so, I generally judge people by their appearance, but save actual judgments for after I have communicated with them, and can actually start to get an idea of their character, or at least the character they emit. In a country where I am unable to communicate with most citizens, and I have so many preconceptions to the people I see and try to communicate with, I tend to form a stereotype based on appearance. By looking at her face, I formed a complete idea of what she was like, and then looking at her arm, that image was shattered.
It wasn't the shock of a Japanese person doing it, it was the shock of my image being so incorrect, and that I didn't expect it. It made me realise that I have so easily misjudged so many people, and I have so easily ignored histories that can so greatly affect people.
I know a lot about pain during childhood, and as CM has mentioned in his blog recently, school sucks. What this girl taught me is that this pain is carried through to so many people, that I meet and talk to, and that I know or don't know of. With self harm, the scars are literal and are visible. But self harm is such a small part of pain that meeting this one girl reminded me of how many people suffer tremendously during their lives. Being reminded of how many people died in Kobe ten years ago made this suffering seem trivial, and the total suffering the population of the world endures consistently reminded me of how little one person matters, and how much one person matters.
In all, all I mean is that when I meet people, I assume a history, and the history I initially assumed for this girl was so far off, that I wonder about the sufferings I have not known in the people I know and care about, and the people I don't know.
It makes my feelings seem like absolutely nothing.
The last class, which was packed, went about with me not having a consistent talking partner, and now having much to do in the way of help, as the class is pretty competent and capable. It makes me think about how much the teacher actually does, and I made a decision to be more active in my teaching. After the class, they were so impressed that I could write my name in Kanji that they all asked for my autograph. Well, most of them. I was feeling great until I wrote it wrong, but the amusing side took precedent.
When the signatures had subsided, several photos were taken, and then almost everyone went to an izakaya, where we had lots of new foods thrown at us. I had the usual, raw tuna, roasted "long fish", cheese balls and some salad, until the oddest food I have ever come across was put on my plate (figuratively). I was offered a piece of chicken sashimi. Put bluntly, it's a chunk of raw chicken breast, fresh from the bird. I have no sympathy for Japanese chefs, they have an easy life that mainly involves cutting. I dipped it in some kind of ginger paste and soy sauce, and tried it. I chewed about half of it at first. You know the texture of chicken that you feel when you are slicing it? It's kind of gummy and soft and consistent. That's exactly how it is if you eat it. The ginger didn't really hide the taste, and it tastes how it smells. I stopped chewing and forced myself to swallow then and there, because I try to avoid spitting out food until it is a last resort.
I drank all my water, and sat there shaking for a while. They all asked if I was ok, which I wasn't, but I tried unsuccessfully to hide it. Eventually even Emma asked if I was ok, and she was sitting quite far from me and involved in other communication. When I told her what I ate, she went slightly more pale. People apologised for making me eat it. I tried other things, unable to shake the feeling of chewing it. I realised that the only way to deal with this kind of disgusting experience was to repeat it successfully. I picked up the last bit of chicken (identical in every respect to the chicken I have at home before I cook it), and I dipped it again, and I ate it. I pretended it was raw fish, and ate it normally. I did actually feel much better, and less sick after the second piece, and I know now that I can eat it if I have to, or if someone needs impressing. Emma said she felt physically sick watching that.
There were long goodbyes, and lots of exchanging of emails, and even though I knew that in almost all certainty I will not see these people ever again, I told them I'd see them in two years. They are an amazing group of people, and very interesting to talk to. I will miss every person I met and spoke with at Working Holiday. Tomorrow is the last class, but I will probably miss it, as I am meeting one of Emma's friends tomorrow at six, and not close to the centre.
A never traveled much independently, so this trip has meant more goodbyes than I have dealt with before. Admittedly, the hardest has been Yayoi. I dealt with it with the idea of maybe seeing her again, but her email today confirmed that it would not happen. Of the people I have met, I will miss her the most. In her email, she included the photos that she'd taken during the times we were together, and when I get some resizing software to hand, I'll post them. But it was a hard email to read, and a hard one to reply to, but of the people I have met here, I have the most confidence in seeing her again, so I will not be sad in my goodbye.
This has been a long post, and in honesty I don't expect many people to be reading, especially considering the number of comments I get these days. But now is the last day. I'm about to hit the final 24 hours. I'm losing a lot going home, but there's a lot waiting for me. If the world could be smaller, it would be better because I would say goodbye less, but for every person I say goodbye to, I will say hello to another. My network has jumped in size, and I can never regret that. I will be back, and I will try my hardest to keep in touch with the people who have made this holiday so wonderful.
Wednesday, 10 August 2005
And I Mean it with No Bitterness at All
I can't be bothered with privacy settings and the like, and I won't be setting some up just so I can hide my feelings from those who it applies to, but I will still type them and I will still keep them secret. Apologies if this bores you, but you really don't have to read it, you won't understand it.
B lftrbff sp zmk uid qdpomd J gbuf rfqjnvrmx mhlde, vihdg hnfr gqpl Rhbm, un Ztlhoz, un Zzznj; sihoft cjc onu vpql. Lz efdmhoft zsd ugjr: js jr tze, BUT I MEAN THIS WITH NO BITTERNESS AT ALL, xpt'sd onu sid mzts cdbtuhgtm fjqm.
It's pointless for my to write it and code it, but I feel so much better doing it. Anyway, time to start preparing the end of the holiday. Not long now.
B lftrbff sp zmk uid qdpomd J gbuf rfqjnvrmx mhlde, vihdg hnfr gqpl Rhbm, un Ztlhoz, un Zzznj; sihoft cjc onu vpql. Lz efdmhoft zsd ugjr: js jr tze, BUT I MEAN THIS WITH NO BITTERNESS AT ALL, xpt'sd onu sid mzts cdbtuhgtm fjqm.
It's pointless for my to write it and code it, but I feel so much better doing it. Anyway, time to start preparing the end of the holiday. Not long now.
Back in the Routine
Today was spent in my usual fashion, wandering Midosuji and Shinsaibashi looking for fun things to do, ending in a trip to working holiday to teach English. Stuart and Yoko are now in Taiwan, so James, the substitute teacher is teaching Stuart's class. I can still sit in, and if he's tired tomorrow I'll offer to take the class for him, since I have had more experience of Stuart's teaching than he has. I was going to take over the class properly, but that damn Visa, damn it damn it.
I looked for the all-you-can-eat sushi place today, and it turns out that either it isn't all you can eat or it's only like that at night, or something, because it was pay-per-plate, like Satori sushi in London. But I went in anyway, and had six pieces of salmon nigiri, four pieces of tuna nigiri, two pieces of shrimp nigiri (I think), and six cucumber maki rolls, which was all I could eat, and it came to just over 5 pounds, which is a quarter of the price I pay at Satori, for more, and much better, sushi. I was full for the rest of the day. I don't know what it is, but there's something about raw fish on rice that really fills you.
Most of the class didn't show up today. It was just Yayoi and another girl who actually works there anyway. So James and I just talked about random topics for an hour, from films to food to exaggeration and enthusiasm. Then about kanji. I really enjoyed it, and explaining the hyperbole I used and the places I've visited. James said that it was exaggeration when I said that Japan had been my "best holiday ever", but I really didn't think so. It has been. But in my usual fashion, I felt the down side of all the happiness I have been feeling recently. Yayoi, Emma and I went to the place where Yayoi had stayed up all night talking with me before, and we had some food and we talked. Well, it was mainly Yayoi and Emma talking in Japanese, while as per usual I struggled to understand. That was probably the last time that I'll ever see her, so I feel regret at not understanding the majority of what she said.
I kissed her hand as I said goodbye, and Emma and I took the train back here.
Now, a short time ago I wrote something in code, as I didn't want people knowing what it said, but wanted to keep it in memory. Anyone with an ounce of determination could probably decipher it, but I have the same feeling again at the moment, of wishing to make a record, but not wanting it to be understood. I don't have time to code it, as right now I'm standing in the lobby of our hotel on one of their two free computers. So I'm going to mix every language I know into a bizarre stream of consciousness that Shun will be able to read if he studies a bit of Latin.
Toute les hitotachi que je suki itsumo eo, mais mai-jour, boku no sense wa jambe, et mon ideas reste ici. Gde la femme qui aime wo ima? Nande les personnages wa kanpeki ga, ce n'est pas possible? Pourquois watashi sense ca? Je deteste. Yet, itsomu c'exist. Wo ce wo dekirukoto ga hoshi, tamen dekimasen, et je voidrais ce immediatement yo. Itsumo itai, mais le finis est impossible-so.
That combined vocabulary and grammar from almost every language I've studied ever, and I mixed it in a way that won't make sense to someone even if they speak all six fluently. I hope. Bah, right now I desire to go to the room and listen to soft music until I sleep. I'm fearing what the spell check is going to throw at me when I click it. It's the 10th of August, I leave in two days. I don't want to go home, but it's necessary. This is the fastest month ever.
I looked for the all-you-can-eat sushi place today, and it turns out that either it isn't all you can eat or it's only like that at night, or something, because it was pay-per-plate, like Satori sushi in London. But I went in anyway, and had six pieces of salmon nigiri, four pieces of tuna nigiri, two pieces of shrimp nigiri (I think), and six cucumber maki rolls, which was all I could eat, and it came to just over 5 pounds, which is a quarter of the price I pay at Satori, for more, and much better, sushi. I was full for the rest of the day. I don't know what it is, but there's something about raw fish on rice that really fills you.
Most of the class didn't show up today. It was just Yayoi and another girl who actually works there anyway. So James and I just talked about random topics for an hour, from films to food to exaggeration and enthusiasm. Then about kanji. I really enjoyed it, and explaining the hyperbole I used and the places I've visited. James said that it was exaggeration when I said that Japan had been my "best holiday ever", but I really didn't think so. It has been. But in my usual fashion, I felt the down side of all the happiness I have been feeling recently. Yayoi, Emma and I went to the place where Yayoi had stayed up all night talking with me before, and we had some food and we talked. Well, it was mainly Yayoi and Emma talking in Japanese, while as per usual I struggled to understand. That was probably the last time that I'll ever see her, so I feel regret at not understanding the majority of what she said.
I kissed her hand as I said goodbye, and Emma and I took the train back here.
Now, a short time ago I wrote something in code, as I didn't want people knowing what it said, but wanted to keep it in memory. Anyone with an ounce of determination could probably decipher it, but I have the same feeling again at the moment, of wishing to make a record, but not wanting it to be understood. I don't have time to code it, as right now I'm standing in the lobby of our hotel on one of their two free computers. So I'm going to mix every language I know into a bizarre stream of consciousness that Shun will be able to read if he studies a bit of Latin.
Toute les hitotachi que je suki itsumo eo, mais mai-jour, boku no sense wa jambe, et mon ideas reste ici. Gde la femme qui aime wo ima? Nande les personnages wa kanpeki ga, ce n'est pas possible? Pourquois watashi sense ca? Je deteste. Yet, itsomu c'exist. Wo ce wo dekirukoto ga hoshi, tamen dekimasen, et je voidrais ce immediatement yo. Itsumo itai, mais le finis est impossible-so.
That combined vocabulary and grammar from almost every language I've studied ever, and I mixed it in a way that won't make sense to someone even if they speak all six fluently. I hope. Bah, right now I desire to go to the room and listen to soft music until I sleep. I'm fearing what the spell check is going to throw at me when I click it. It's the 10th of August, I leave in two days. I don't want to go home, but it's necessary. This is the fastest month ever.
Monday, 8 August 2005
Minor Update
This will be te first time I'm updating twice in a day for a while, I have missed it. It's almost time to check in to our hotel, so I'm killing the last of the time by playing Google Maps on a full screen 30" widescreen monitor in the Mac store. Now that's fun. If only I had more time.
There are no Working Holiday lessons tonight, but no reply from Masaya, so I'm not sure if we'll do anything but seep tonight. Em's about to collapse still, and I'm pretty exhausted. We waited at a McDonald's for about an hour, still killing time, and some 16 year old Japanese boys started talking to us with their limited English, it was a fun thing, since we used none of our Japanese, which was better by far, in Emma's case anyway.
Time up, I'm bored because I have no bike, I am unshaven and dirty and not willing to sweat further in the awful heat. I'm done for now, speak to you later.
There are no Working Holiday lessons tonight, but no reply from Masaya, so I'm not sure if we'll do anything but seep tonight. Em's about to collapse still, and I'm pretty exhausted. We waited at a McDonald's for about an hour, still killing time, and some 16 year old Japanese boys started talking to us with their limited English, it was a fun thing, since we used none of our Japanese, which was better by far, in Emma's case anyway.
Time up, I'm bored because I have no bike, I am unshaven and dirty and not willing to sweat further in the awful heat. I'm done for now, speak to you later.
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