The Fool's Progress

Video Project

2008-06-15T15:24:00.003+09:00

For the last 5 months we've been working on a semester long video project at the language center. The idea is that one group from each of the 27 classes should submit a video about Bengkulu (ideally tying in some area of expertise from their field of study). We wanted to show students that English has some real life, communicative purpose for them outside of the classroom, and also to promote tourism in Bengkulu province.

Most of the students had no video making experience and have little opportunity to use technology in general. After months of blood, sweat, tears, bribes to customs officials, polite reminders, cajoling, playing the bad cop, and complete internet and computer failures, all of the videos are finally finished. So check out the playlist and feel free to comment on any of the videos.

http://video.yahoo.com/playlist/100651628

Reflections

2008-05-28T17:59:00.002+09:00

Things I will miss:
1. my co-workers
2. my students
3. the English clubs
4. wearing flip-flops at the office
5. the UNIB jungle campus
6. monkeys swinging in the trees outside my classroom window
7. Papaya, papaya everywhere!

Things I will not miss:
1. Smell of fresh rubber and chicken poo wafting on the early morning breeze
2. The guys at the carwash yelling “Hey Mister” in my face on the walk to work
3. Intestinal amoebas
4. Wild and crazy parties every weekend
5. Distortion from the Mosque loudspeaker gently rousing me from sleep at 4:30 a.m.
6. Fresh dusting of gecko poo on my kitchen counter every morning
7. Personal garbage dump conveniently located behind my house

Sunday afternoon

2008-04-28T14:03:00.004+09:00

Yesterday I went with some students to record a video for a project we're doing at the language center at my university. This video was taken at the most popular beach in town, which serves as the main Saturday and Sunday afternoon hotspot for everyone in town. There is usually a lot of traffic along the beach road as the main activities there are crusin' and watching the sunset (along with the occasional elephant ride). However last Sunday it was busier than usual due to some sort of competition (the banner said "Fox Hunt", but I don't know if that was meant to be taken literally) This was at high noon...on the equator...can't you just feel the unbearable heat? If Sartre was right, and hell is other people, than this might very well be my own, personalized version of it, Indo style...

After we escaped the traffic jam, we headed out to a waterfall in the mountains outside of the city. The waterfall was nice and cool, but the hour long ride to get there was anything but. Speaking of but(t), mine was completely numb after the day on the motorcyle and is finally starting to regain feeling a day later. To keep my mind off the brain rattling ride (thanks to the giant potholes in the roads courtesy of years of earthquake damage) I occupied myself with taking pictures along the way. This is how the average family gets from A to B in Indonesia:

Birthday Festivities!

2008-03-27T16:51:00.005+09:00

Last week was the big birthday celebration, and as luck would have it, it just so happened to be Muhammad's b-day as well, so we had a nice long holiday weekend in which to celebrate. My friends and I headed out to the 1000 Islands, a group of islands off the coast of Java, for a little sun and snorkling. We stayed at a great little place called Tiger Island, which is about the size of a football field and we had the run of the island for 3 fun-filled days. After a few minor sea urchin disasters, some incredible sunsets, copius amounts of snorkling, and some daredevil stunts involving a trampoline, we headed back to Jakarta to finish out the celebration in style...it just wouldn't be my birthday without a little karaoke...

How to take a mandi

2008-03-11T12:06:00.004+09:00

Mandi is the term used for "taking an Indonesian-style bath" and it has been the subject of much discussion between myself and friends and family back home. While I was at first somewhat depressed at the thought of having to bathe this way for an entire year, I am now a true convert to the mandi style. As my neighbor put it: "it's refreshing"...and I couldn't have described it any better myself. So, without further ado, here's a step by step process of how to mandi:

1. Fill the bak (tub) with water. In all Indonesian homes, the bak is left full at all times (the water is used for not only bathing purposes, but also in lieu of toilet paper...however that is a separate topic which should best be described in person...)

2. Stand outside the bak and scoop out a bucket of water, then pour the water over the body taking care not to get any soap in the bak.

3. Repeat step 2 until clean

It's a bit labor intensive, but since the water is cold, keeping active takes your mind off of the fact that the water is freezing.

Here's a look at my bathroom, complete with western toilet (thank god!) and bak:

Bird's eye view of my bak (my house has 4 bathrooms if you can believe it, and this one is by far the cleanest and in the best condition. Notice how the tap is secured by using a plastic bag...many plumbing and maitenence problems here are solved with plastic bags. It's the Indonesian equivalent of Duct tape)

The Prestige of English

2008-02-14T14:52:00.001+09:00

A few weeks ago while on vacation, I received a phone call from a man asking me to make a presentation about “culture and teaching English”. The man who called me couldn’t speak English very well (made even worse because the conversation took place over the phone) so I was very confused about the whole situation

The presentation was on a Saturday morning on the far side of campus. From my house, it was about a 30 minute walk. Even though I left an hour early, someone from the faculty at which I was presenting called and text messaged me 3 times just to make sure I was still coming (note: once someone gets your cell phone number, they will use it liberally by calling and texting constantly. Thus, I must guard my number with my life and only give it to people that I really, really trust. Most of the other teaching fellows here in Indonesia and I have all had our fair share of “cell phone stalkers”, students or people from the community who somehow get our numbers and constantly text and call for no real reason.)

Anyway, I arrived at faculty building a sweaty, disheveled mess after the walk, and was immediately ushered to the 3rd floor. From there I was led into a conference room of about 200 people, who, as I found out upon arrival, were graduate students in the Educational Management faculty. I was lead to the front table reserved for the presenters, and was introduced by someone from the faculty. As I soon found out, the occasion was the “International Seminar of Educational Management” (my presence alone enabling the use of the “international” moniker.) I was also told that “most of the students don’t have very good English, so you can use Indonesian to explain the more difficult parts”…which would be fine if I had to give them directions or ask how much something cost, etc. However my level of speaking ability is not quite up to the task of explaining the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Without a way to accurately judge the English ability of my audience, I began my presentation…but by about slide 3 of my power point, I could tell by the glazed eyes of the audience members that they didn’t understand anything I was saying. So I tried to adapt as I was giving the presentation, all the while still sweating and highly distracted by a man with a camera standing about 1 foot from my face and taking my picture from all angles while I was trying to speak.

Finally, I decided to throw all professional integrity out the window and rushed through the power point without trying to adapt the information to make it more easily understood. Then it was time for question and answer. From attending previous conferences I knew that audience members love to ask “questions”, which means that usually someone will grab a microphone and talk at length without much concern about whether or not he/she has an actual question or whether or not what he/she is saying has any relation to the theme of the presentation. Therefore the onus is usually on the presenter to which said “question” is directed to try and create a question based on the extended monologue of the audience member. This is even more fun if the audience member speaks the entire time in Indonesian (none of which could be understood by me) and then a “translator” (whose English was as negligible as the rest of the audience members’) was left with the task of relaying the information to me in English.

After an hour and a half of complete confusion and frustration, my allotted presentation time was finished. I was then ushered back to the head table, where I was presented with a certificate and thanked by one of the organizing committee. This was his speech: “Dear Ms. Katie, thank you so much. You are so nice. You are so beautiful (and at this, the entire audience burst into applause.) You are so smart. Thank you for coming from New Zealand to talk. And you are still single, but you will be here for 5 more months so maybe some men in the audience can meet you (at this audience once again burst into applause).” End of speech. I was then invited to eat lunch with the organizing committee and some of the faculty members. Only then did I truly realize the level of English most of the seminar members could comprehend…basically, we could discuss likes/dislikes in simple sentences (“Do you like bananas?” “Do you like Indonesian food?” etc.) So as I suspected, maybe 5 out of the 200 people in the entire room had understood what I was saying for the last 2 hours. Frankly, I could have recited the lyrics of “Stairway to Heaven” and nobody would have been the wiser.

So what’s the moral of this story? Personally, I was confused as to why I would be invited to speak at a seminar in a language which the majority of seminar participants didn’t speak. What would be the purpose? What could be gained by having the graduate students sit in a hot and crowed room while they were given a presentation they didn’t understand? Frankly it seemed a waste of time for me (having spent 2 days researching and making the presentation), not to mention frustrating. It also seemed a waste of time for the participants, who could have, in my opinion, gotten some actual information had the presentations been in Indonesian.

It seems the purpose of English here isn’t so much about WHAT is being conveyed as to HOW it’s conveyed. English represents prestige, education, and respect. And it doesn’t seem to matter if the person using it can understand/be understood. The fact that it was used is all that matters. The fact that a foreigner took part in a seminar makes the seminar itself that much more prestigious, never mind what the foreigner said, but just that fact that she was there at all (even better if participants can get an actual photo WITH the foreigner as proof!) I guess being from such a goal-oriented culture, this concept is nearly impossible for me to grasp. I am also struggling with the concept that the value and importance of an event is increased when attended by a foreigner (and even more specifically, a Western foreigner). I seem to be struggling lately with what my presence here means and the discrepancy between the purpose of my fellowship “on paper” and the real motivation. I would like to believe that the content of my work from my 10 months here will be as valued when I finish as all the great photo opportunities. We shall see…

Danau Toba

2008-02-01T13:53:00.001+09:00

A few weeks ago during semester break some friends and I decided to explore North Sumatera. Our first stop was Danau Toba (Lake Toba), about 4 hours by car from Medan (the biggest city on Sumatera). Most bus rides here are white-knuckled, hellish journeys spent packed into a crammed bus careening around too-small mountain roads...and our trip to Danau Toba was no exception. The trip was made even more fun due to the fact that the lady sitting in front of us insisted on keeping all the windows closed (even though there was no AC in the bus) to keep her hair from getting mussed (I took small solace in the fact that despite her best efforts, at the end of the trip she arrived with a huge cowlick in the back of her head...) However the journey was well worth the carsickness and stress. When we finally got to the lake, it was an amazing sight to behold. After spending 3 days there, I have decided that Danau Toba is one of my favorite places in the entire world! The lake is the largest in southeast asia and was formed in a volcano crater after a large eruption thousands of years ago (actually just making up the last bit...not exactly sure when it was formed, just making an educated guess...) There is an island in the middle of the lake (equal in size to the island of Bali) which is where we stayed.

On the first day, we rented bikes and rode around to check out the countryside and visit all the tourist "landmarks" (I say that in quotations because some of these so-called landmarks were nothing more than a few mounds of dirt...gotta give the resisdents some props for trying, though!) We also did some canoeing, saw some traditional dances, toured the traditional Batak-style houses, saw some traditional weaving, and visited hot springs. All in all, an amazing time!

Another teaching fellow and I in front of a traditional style house:

More houses and traditional wood carving:

Welcome dance performed by some local residents:
Traditional weaving methods:

Kendra and I showing off matching hair and outfits:

View of our hotel from the ferry:

Borobudur

2008-02-01T13:33:00.000+09:00

Last weekend I took a whirlwind trip to Yogyakarta on the island of Java. The country's capital, Jakarta, is known as the capital of commerce in Indonesia while Yogya (as the locals call it) is the cultural capital. A trip to Yogya wouldn't be complete without a visit to the Buddhist temple of Borobudur, about 42 km outside the city. Here's a bit of background:

Construction of Borobudur probably took place around 760 AD, and completed around 830. It is designed as a mandala - a geometric aid for meditation. It is in fact a model of the Buddhist cosmos. Borobudur has 10 levels, and these 10 levels are categorized into three distinct parts which correspond to the three divisions of the Mahayana Buddhist universe: khamadhatu, the low-life, so to speak; rupadhatu, the realm of "form"; and arupadhatu, or the state of detachment from worldly being. A pilgrim would circumambulate the monument in clockwise fashion, starting with the reliefs on the eastern staircase, and going around the monument before ascending to the next level, and so on, until he reaches the top. That's a journey of ten circles around Borobudur, covering a distance totaling five kilometers.

Here's a look at Borobudur from the entrance path. Like most ancient and colossal religious structures in Southeast Asia, Borobudur is usually swarming with tourists...the day I visited was no exception. And like most places that are swarming with tourists, it seemed there were more people interested in getting their picture taken with me and my friend than of the actual structure (within 5 minutes of arrival I was petitioned by literally 10 different groups to get my picture taken with them)

Besides being overrun with tourists, it was also ungodly hot (hence the umbrellas)

Some relief carvings on the lower walls:

One of the many statues of Buddah:

Buddah's-eye view of the mountains surrounding the temple:

Me blending in with the surroundings:

Christmas in Borneo

2008-01-09T12:29:00.000+09:00

As most of you know, I spent this Christmas with some friends on a little jungle adventure on the island of Borneo. We started our journey traveling upriver by boat to the Tanjung Puting national park in Kalimantan (The island of Borneo is shared by Indonesia, Malaysia, and Brunei. Kalimantan is the Indonesian area of the island, occupying the entire lower portion.) We went to the park because it is home to an orangutan reserve and rehabilitation center. Due to illegal logging and deforestation, thousands of Borneo orangutans have been displaced and/or killed. For this part of our journey, we had a guide take us to the reserve and we stayed in an eco-lodge in the forest.

Even in the jungle, we still found a little of the Christmas spirit...a very Charlie Brown-looking tree in the eco-lodge:

A few other teaching fellows and me on our boat:

Our first day in the organutan reserve...we got there just in time for the afternoon feeding. The dominant male eats first, then the others can come and eat.

The next day we got to hang out with some mothers and their babies. As we were walking down the trail to the feeding station, a group of them came to show us the way. If we stopped, they too would stop and wait for us...I think they wanted to make sure we didn't get lost! I think this one is trying to tell us something...

Rules of the park...unfortunately, we didn't see any crocodiles in the river.

Snack time:

3 days in the national park, one frightening bus ride, and a very scary hotel later, we arrived in Banjarmasin, which is the capital city of Kalimantan. We were happy to have a little civilization in which to spend Christmas day. And lo and behold, a Christmas miracle: karaoke! Truly a great Christmas day...dinner at Pizza Hut and then an all night karaoke session!

The next day we traveled about 5 hours to the village of Loksado in the mountains. We stayed in a great guest house right on the river, and a guide took us on a little trek to see some local hill tribes. We also got to go for a swim at a nice little waterfall:

After hiking to the waterfall in the morning, our guide asked us if we wanted to take the "long way" back down the mountain. Little did we know what the "long way" entailed...a 5 hour crazy jungle trek, complete with Indiana Jones-style bridges, stream fording, and mudslides. Of course, our guide did all this wearing little rubber flip-flops...and he still had to wait for us to catch up!

Tony, Susannah, and Kendra crossing a stream:

Finally, our trip to the mountains ended with a ride down the river on a bamboo raft. The guide on our boat was amazing...machete in one hand (to chop off tree branches that got in the way) and a bamboo pole in the other to steer, he kicked ass! And of course, he did all this with a cigarette in his mouth most of the time....

For a more detailed description, check out this link to my colleague's blog (I'm too lazy to write it myself!)

http://anthonyzak.com/2008/01/03/wrapping-it-up/#more-314

garbage

2007-11-26T14:33:00.000+09:00

There is shit everywhere here. Not literally of course (although about some dark corners and abandoned patches of land behind buildings I would rather not know.) One thing I have learned after living in this country for 3 months is that sometimes it’s best not to dig too deeply into unused rooms, or when looking out windows, to keep my focus on the trees rather than the informal trash dump scattered underneath them. Garbage of a different variety can be found in and around most buildings, and my office at the University where I work is no exception. As I sit here typing, my desk is facing a wall of shelves…shelves which are, shall we say, organizationally challenged. Crammed onto said shelves are stacks of old papers covered in dust, yellowed by water-stains; 3-ring binders (not one of the 26 remains with the full functionality of it’s spine or ability to remain closed); stacks and stacks of outdated practice tests (circa 1975); used test answer sheets from students long graduated; sloppy piles of manila envelopes…all of this topped off, like the cherry on the proverbial sundae, by a clock in the shape of a rafflesia flower whose hands haven’t moved past 9:45 since the earthquake 2 and a half months ago.

One of my main goals during my fellowship is to give the English Library here at the language center an extreme make-over. As you might well imagine, the library, normally referred to as the Self-Access Center (SAC), is not exempt from the traditional Indonesian-style organization (the aforementioned method of piling shit everywhere but never, EVER, throw anything away lest it might come in handy some day.) Upon my first introduction to the SAC, after having my mission explained to me, it took every ounce of will-power I possessed not to attack the place with a giant plastic garbage bag (props to the McClintic Gulag of my childhood and its Saturday morning enforced cleaning sessions, which, in retrospect, probably instilled more long-term values than that re-run of Saved by the Bell) Anyway, in an effort to be more culturally conscious, I resisted my impulses to immediately begin re-organizing, deciding to first observe the situation then choose the best course of action.

So after 3 months of observing the routine and browsing through the materials, I deduced that the SAC was used mainly as a lunch room for teachers and a place for the librarian to watch soap operas. Various attempts at sorting the materials had taught me that most of the listening materials hadn’t been touched in years, and the majority of the video tapes couldn’t be played and were, in fact, stuck together and slightly moldy. An obvious and easy place to start weeding out unnecessary items…or so I thought. As with most things here, nothing gets accomplished without the advice and opinion of anyone who happens to be in the building at the time. Which is fine, and I understand it is the culturally acceptable way of doing things here (as with most Asian countries, which all lean more towards the collectivist end of the spectrum) However the problem with my desire to throw out the unused materials came not from the group consultation, but rather from the thought that I would throw anything away at all.

Now, it was clearly logical and made perfect sense to me that, if the video and audio tapes don’t work, and we don’t have a machine to play some of the outdated tapes (some strange mini-videos that I’d never previously seen before digging into the nether regions of our SAC shelves) then what is the purpose of keeping the stuff around? Why not weed out the old stuff and in the process make the stuff we do use easier to see and more accessible? But, if I have learned anything after living in 3 different countries and traveling in many more, it’s that sometimes, culturally speaking, what I consider to be “logical” and what others consider to be “logical” often do not coincide.

With the aid of another English teacher serving as my interpreter I tried to get the librarian to understand my logic. Tensions we certainly running high, and the more I tried to reason with her, the more tightly she clung to the idea that the old tapes might be needed by someone. After an hour of consultation, explanation, and towards the end some pleading, we finally reached a breakthrough in our stalemate. The epiphany came when I told her that I had special funds from the State Department specifically set aside to be used for the purchase of new materials and books…funds that I could use at my discretion, which didn’t have to be approved by the director of our language center. As Oprah would say, it was an “Ah, ha!” moment…and then, for the librarian, it was a whole new world. The tapes…gone….garbage…sent to the dumping ground (i.e. the pile of trash behind the building) She now directed all her attention to making a long and detailed list of all the new stuff she wanted for the SAC.

Since that afternoon, I have been thinking about all the shit piled everywhere in this country. It didn’t really register with me, why everyone, it seemed, was so hesitant to send things to the garbage and accept the fact that sometimes, you have to just let things go. But then it started to make more sense…why, for example, my cleaning lady was saving all the old peanut butter jars I threw in the trash, or why she (even though she can’t speak English) wanted to save the old Newsweek magazine I tried to discard. Even today, she politely asked me if she could keep a worn out pair of flip-flops I had thrown in the trash. Of course, I told her, please take them…and then I felt terrible, that something I had deemed disgusting and unfit for use, was, to her, something to be saved and taken home to her family.

I am starting to understand why people hold on so tightly to things. When there isn’t a seemingly endless supply of money to replace something, the line between what is garbage and what isn’t becomes blurred. Since coming here I have slowly started to re-define what the term “necessity” means to not only me, but the majority of the world’s population. It’s an easy lesson to learn when true necessity confronts me every time I open my front door (and sometimes it even comes inside and cleans my bathrooms for me) I just hope that I can remember it when I get back home…

Audio tape collection at the SAC

Books-on-Tape collection

Photocopied Children's Books

Garbage dump below my office window

Around town...

2007-11-18T15:56:00.000+09:00

A few weekends ago I was invited to some weddings here in Bengkulu. From what I am told, most weddings last around 3 days and involve several costume changes. The first wedding of the day was one of the teachers that I work with at the University. During the reception portion of the wedding (day 2) the bride, groom, and their parents dress in the traditional wedding clothes according to where each family is from (this is West Sumatera dress)

These girls performed a traditional dance at the reception.

From what I understand, the wedding party sits on an elaborately decorated stage throughout the entire reception (about 5 hours) while guests greet them and have their picture taken with them. There is no exact starting time for the reception and guests come and go throughout the day. For most formal events such as this, guests show up, say hello to the hosts, eat, then leave. No mingling, no forced, uncomfortable chit-chat with the 3rd cousins or various other crazy relatives...personally, I am a huge fan of this Indonesian style etiquette....

This is wedding #2 of the day. The bride and groom are wearing traditional Java dress (both bride and groom's family originally from there) This reception was held at the house of our librarian...I cannot express how hot this reception was. It was outside under a tent set up in the librarian's front yard and there were about a million people all crammed together. This combined with the inhumanely loud karaoke that served as the reception's entertainment resulted in almost unbearable conditions. A situation such as this is a perfect example of how Indonesian party etiquette proves to be quite useful. Guests get in, get out, and nobody passes out from heat exhaustion....

This was taken at the birthday party of my friend's son.

There's no birthday cake, but there is a certain kind of rice made on special occasions. It is custom for the honoree to cut the top of the rice and serve it to the most honored and respected guest at the occasion.

This is at an old British military fort in Bengkulu. Most weekends find it full of kids running around and students hanging out with their significant others.

On this particular day, I had a whole gang of "tour guides" who were more than happy to pose for photos every chance they got (they also got an enormous amount of joy out of teaching me dirty words in Indonesian...kids these days...they grow up so fast...)

Cows grazing on the University campus:

Neighbors:

Gecko trying to hide between the wall and ceiling of my house:

Bali in a Nutshell...

2007-10-28T16:14:00.000+09:00

I just got back from a little vacation in Bali. It is really an incredibly beautiful place and unique in Indonesia because it's the only island in the archipelago where the majority of the population is Hindu (95% of Balinese) It was such a different world from where I am...it was interesting to see how stongly the majority religion influences the culture and lifestyle. I only spent 10 days there, but I could have easily spent a month traveling around...lots of places to see and things to do.

We got to see some of the countryside on a mountain biking tour. This is a terraced rice field we passed on our way...

Women taking offerings to the temple:

We also stopped at an organic farm in the mountains. Friendly gentleman roasting coffee:

Cocoa, light of my life, fire of my loins! Our guide lets us try some raw beans picked fresh from the tree:

Sunrise on top of a live volcano (Mt.Batur). We were cursing ourselves during the 4 a.m. hike to the top, but it was definitely worth it in the end......check out that sunrise!

Steam leaking up from the ground on the way back down the volcano:

Mother and child at a monkey sanctuary:

Monkey rules:

I ran into some friends who I worked with in Japan...here Blair shows the inspiration for his hairstyle:

Heather and Blair get serenaded by a drag queen in Seminyak (Blair obviously still in high spirits from his own private lap dance moments before...)

Engaging in less ambitious pursuits in Ubud:

Blessings from Tanah Lot, a Hindu temple:

Sunset at Tanah Lot

Open Letter to the Middle-Aged Woman at the Supermarket

2007-10-07T14:49:00.000+09:00

Dear Madam,

I respectfully ask that you please stop following me around the supermarket. I fully understand that the opportunity to observe an actual white person in the wild is rare indeed, and I do admire your tenacity given the various tacitcal manoeuvers I have made in an attempt to disengage you over the course of the last 10 minutes. However you might be able to extrapolate, from the scowl on my face and my resistance to making eye contact with you, that today I am in no mood to facilitate cross-cultural understanding here in the instant noodle aisle. Any other day would find me more than willing to enter into thoughtful discourse regarding my striking similarity to Barbie, but this morning I have already: thwarted an attempted kidnapping via public transportation by jumping out of a moving vehicle, almost been hit by a large, swerving construction vehicle whose driver wanted to convey his enlightening message at close range ("Hey mister! Where you going?"), gotten a razor sharp piece of coconut shell lodged in the bottom of my flip-flop, and harassed by a moto driver who felt compelled to ride next to me for half a kilometer "practicing English."

I wholeheartedly hope that you are not left with a negative impression of my people. We are generally a happy-go-lucky, friendly sort who delight in and encourage foreigners to repeatedly ask questions such as "Why aren't you married yet?" and "Don't you ever want to get married?" And I will make this solemn promise to you, dear Middle-Aged Woman at the Supermarket, that I will be open for any and all questioning during my next visit. As you can see, since we are now at the check-out counter and you are standing close enough behind me that I can feel your breath on the back of my neck, I am indeed buying bread. May you take solace in this small token of stereotype confirmation, and may you take your newfound knowledge back to family and friends (along with the secret picture you took of me on your cell phone), and may you always look back in fond remembrance of today, the day you saw the white girl in the supermarket.

Sincerely,
MKM

simple pleasures

2007-10-03T20:34:00.000+09:00

I came home from work yesterday and what did I find? My wonderful cleaning lady, Andra, had picked a fresh papaya from a tree in my backyard, cut it up, and artfully arranged it on plate for me (yes, I have a cleaning lady. It's very normal to have house help lest you think I've gone all bourgeois since coming here. Fear not, I shall stay unchanged and remain true to my bohemian ways!) Seismic upheaval be damned! The cornucopia of tropical fruit that surrounds me is worth the risk...

Welcome to the Jungle

2007-09-23T12:27:00.000+09:00

Well, it’s the end of my 4th week in Indonesia, and one thing is for sure, my time here so far is definitely not lacking in excitement! It seems that there is so much to tell already, I’m not even sure where to begin. I guess I’ll start with the latest earthquake drama…

After living in Japan for 2 years, I had a false sense of confidence in my earthquake preparedness skills. But what I experienced last Wednesday was nothing like the little window rattlers I had felt before in Japan. I guess to preface this I should explain some of the fundamental differences in architecture between Japan and Indonesia. In Japan, nothing is accomplished without weeks and months of meetings, committee deliberation, and the accompanying mounds of useless paperwork. Everything is precisely planned and all possible variables are anticipated and contingencies based on these variables are also planned down to the last, minute detail. This includes planning for earthquakes, so most modern buildings and roads are constructed to withstand all sorts of seismic activity. My apartment seemed to be made of rubber, so that when earthquakes happened, the entire building would sway back and forth as if suspended in a safety bubble of Japanese ingenuity.

But that was Japan…a wealthy and highly developed country…and this is Indonesia, where the majority of the houses and buildings (especially in my part of the city) seem to be comprised of any and all materials that happened to be available at the time of construction. Shacks made with equal parts brick, wood scraps, and corrugated metal sheets line the roads. They house everything from restaurants to roadside equivalents of convenience stores to people to mechanic shops to mosques. The more “sturdy” buildings are usually made of brick and crumbling chunks of plaster, covered by ancient layers of flaking paint…all of which, by the way, is surrounded by the most stunning natural environment imaginable.

Anyway, now that you have a mental picture…so last Wednesday evening I was at home when the earthquake happened. Like I said, I am used to the earthquakes in Japan, which in my experience have seemed more of a shallow and quick, intense shaking. However here it was different…it seemed deeper, like a slow waving intense motion and I could hear the earth and rock grinding under my feet. While it was happening, there was silence except for the sound of the earth shaking and walls cracking. It lasted about 2 minutes, and then it was total chaos and human noise for about the next 2 days.

At the time, none of my neighbors were home, so I wasn’t quite sure what I should do. Two security guards from my housing complex ran up to my house and started excitedly yelling things at me in Indonesian…unfortunately, that being only my 3rd week in the country, my vocabulary was limited to things like “delicious” and “my name is…” and “that’s spicy!” (phrases such as “run for your life, a tsunami is coming” apparently aren’t covered until chapter 5 of my Teach Yourself Indonesian book) Anyway, through hand gestures and a few key words, I figured out that I was supposed to get out of my house immediately and go across the road to my University, which is situated on higher ground than my house. I grabbed my laptop and ran up to the main road where it was complete and total insanity. Screaming people had run out of their houses and lined the roads, while cars and motorcycles flew past honking their horns. Hysterical mothers were desperately trying to shove 5, 6, sometimes even 7 crying children onto motorcycles to get them to safety.

I got to the University and joined a growing crowd of other evacuees where we stood at the top of the hill looking out towards the beach, all of us keeping watch for giant waves coming in across the water. Cell phone service was out as well as the electricity, which was OK until the sun went down. In the dark people seemed more desperate and scared, and any little sudden movement by one group of people set off a wave of panic. Hundreds of us had been standing around for about an hour, maybe two, with no communication from city officials as to what was happening. At one point, the entire crowd started to freak out and everyone started yelling and running uphill into the trees…until this point I wasn’t too scared, but in the dark with a surging crowd of people screaming and running and me not being able to ask what was happening, I started to freak a little bit. Luckily, three law students took pity on me and used what little English they could remember from their required 2 semesters to explain what was happening. We walked up to a safer area on campus and I was finally able to get in touch with my friend to come pick me up.

I ended up staying at my friend’s uncle’s house, which was located in a safer part of the city with higher elevation. Because of the aftershocks and tsunami warnings, I ended up staying there for 2 days just to be safe. My friend’s cousins were so excited to have a real, live foreigner at their house (never mind the huge earthquake that had just destroyed half the province!) The entire next afternoon I was on display for neighbors and various other relatives. They all clamored around taking pictures with me, and groups of children from the neighborhood would come by at various times during the day to talk with me and take more pictures (apparently there was a rumor going around that “Miss Universe” was staying at the house down the street, so they all had to come out and take a look). Nobody really spoke English, and as I mentioned before, my Indonesian is pretty limited, but I had my two-way dictionary and my text book, so we all took turns looking up words and random phrases in order to communicate…it actually turned out to be quite effective, and their English and my Indonesian were much improved by the end of the day.

The beginning of Ramadan (a Muslim holiday when people fast from sunrise to sunset for 30 days) also coincided with the earthquake, so I was able to take part in the first night of “breaking the fast” (called “babuka puasa” in Indonesian). Since Muslims can’t eat or drink during the day, at night there are celebrations of big meals shared with family and neighbors, and everyone goes out into the streets to shoot fireworks.

I have been able to move back into my house, even though there are still aftershocks (I’ve felt kind of dizzy for the last week or so…I’m not ever sure if the ground is moving or it’s all in my head). Overall I am so amazed by the concern for my safety and the hospitality everyone has shown me during all this excitement. I can't say enough how awsome the people are here...more to come on that later...

Here's a shot of some earthquake damage at my university. This building got the worst of the damage...luckily the damage to my office isn't as bad.

My neighborhood fan club...

Sunset at one of Bengkulu's beaches (and yes, the sunsets are always this incredible)

Parting Shots

2007-08-23T23:42:00.001+09:00

In a few days I'll be leaving for my next adventure in Asia, but before I go I thought I should give one last parting look back at my time in Japan. I actually sat down and wrote a long blog entry about all the things I would miss and all the things I learned...but after re-reading it, I just decided to delete it all. So instead of trying to write a bunch of sentimental, introspective (and most likely confusing) garbage, I'm posting some pictures...less is more, desu ne?

This is Kenrokuen in Kanazawa (supposedly one of the 3 most beautiful gardens in all of Japan). During the winter, the trees are tied to prevent the branches from breaking under the weight of the snow.

Young protesters at a Peace march in our city.

Fire and Violence festival in Ishikawa...super intoxicated men bashing a portable shrine, lighting it on fire, and throwing it in the river? Best damn festival in all of Japan if you ask me...

Nagashi soumen at a restaurant in Kanazawa - water runs through the bamboo while you try to catch and eat noodles that rush down the slide...of the plethora of "Japanese interactive eating" events, this one ranks in my top 3

Dinner with friends...all-you-can-eat (tabehodai), all-you-can-drink (nomihodai)

Crazy boys from Nonoichi Jr. High

Crazy girls from Nonoichi Jr. High

At my final going away party thrown by my teachers...they we so excited to show off the big banner they made me...then of course, after drinking for 2 hours at dinner, they insisted on bringing the banner out in the middle of the street yelling "bonzai!" over and over

The walk home today...

2007-06-26T17:49:00.000+09:00

Today I walked home from school. A little girl went past me on a scooter. The sight of me startled her so much she fell off her scooter in the middle of the road.

Also during the walk home, a gang of elementary school students ran for a 1/2 mile to catch up with me. No wonder they ran...they had a very important message for me: "Hello. How are you? I'm fine, thanks. Do you like sports?"

Here are some shots of Japanese elementary school students, just so you can get a visual...

They all wear the same yellow hats while walking to school:

They all carry the same backpacks (red for girls, black for boys)

Cameron!

2007-05-13T19:17:00.000+09:00

I may have mentioned this before, but in Japan the school year ends in March and begins after spring break in April. Since I have two schools that I teach at, alternating between the two every other month, this month was the first time I had taught the new 1st grade (equal to 6th grade back home) students.

I always love teaching the first class with the new students. They are so enthusiatstic and excited about English class that it is difficult at times for them to contain the excitement. Such was the case last week...

Schools in Japan are organized a bit different than they are at home. Students have a homeroom class, and instead of moving from room to room for each subject, they stay in the room and the teachers rotate every period. The grades are also seperated according to grade level, so the entire first grade classrooms are on the 3rd floor, 2nd grade on the second floor, and 3rd grade on the first floor. Anyway, the point is that many of the 1st grade students don't have much opportunity to interact with me outside of class since they are on the top floor.

So...last week, as I said, was the first time teaching this new group of 1st graders. As I also mentioned, the students at this age are usually bursting from the excitement of having class with a foreigner. So excited, in fact, that last week's classes got a little out of control. When I went up to their floor for class, I was immediately mobbed and subsequently surrounded by about 20 students. Some of them wanted to try out any and all previously learned English, others just wanted to get a closer look (maybe some smelling going on, too), and there were a sea of little hands grabbing and clawing their way through the mass just trying to touch me. The excitement of the students was so intense that I was literally backed into a corner and another teacher had to come rescue me and pull me out of the crowd!

Cultural Note: In Japan, there are many big Hollywood celebs that do commercials here. Meg Ryan hawks instant coffee, Tommy Lee Jones sells canned drinks, and Brad Pitt and Cameron Diaz do commercials for cell phones. Anyway, for some reason, people here have decided that I look like Cameron Diaz (??) Either that or Meg Ryan...my guess is that both these women are blonde and blue eyed...but that's pretty much where the similarity ends, in my opinion.

Anyway, the 1st grade students have now all agreed that I look like Cameron Diaz. During the middle of my classes, the students would becomed so moved by this realization that they felt the need to shout "Cameron! Cameron!" to me in the middle of class. And if one student was thusly moved to testify, well...then a chorus of "Cameron!" would erupt and it would take several minutes for the class to get calmed down and quiet again (this happened on multiple occasions in several different classes)

So I'll let you be the judge...

Here's Cameron...

and here's me.

Bittersweet Good-byes

2007-05-06T18:11:00.000+09:00

So lately I've been reflecting on my time here in Japan. As my tour-of-English-duty draws to a close, I have started an informal list of things I will miss about Japan. Thus far, the list mainly consists of arbitrary, superficial things. For example, Japanese bento (pre-made lunch boxes), convenience stores/vending machines on every corner, frogs croaking in the rice paddys at night, different Hello Kitty charms for every major city....and the list goes on...

However one thing that I will gladly say goodbye to (and, in fact, will rejoice at never having to lay eyes on again) is the haunting sight of the tanuki lingering in dark doorways of restuarants and bars here in Japan. These tanuki, at once both pervasive and elusive...one never knows when one will be confronted by the rat-like snout, those souless eyes, those giant....testicles....

Anyway, before I continue, here's a bit more explanation about the tanuki:

TANUKI:
Magical Racoon-like Dog with Shape-Shifting Powers; Modern-Day God of Gluttony, Boozing, and Restaurateurs

Tanuki appear often in Japanese folklore as shape-shifters with supernatural powers and mischievous tendencies. Tanuki statues are found everywhere around Japan, especially outside restaurants and bars, where the Tanuki beckons drinkers and diners to enter. The beckoning Tanuki is most often depicted with a big round tummy, gigantic testicles, a flask of sake, a promissory note, and a straw hat.

There are countless tales about the mischievous Tanuki. The Tanuki can transform into any living or inanimate shape, but in legend it often assumes the form of a monk or a tea kettle to play tricks on people. Tanuki is most often shown playing tricks on hunters and woodsmen. They can cast powerful illusions -- they can turn leaves into fake money or horse excrement into a delicious-looking dinner. The Tanuki is said to love Japanese sake (rice wine), and is often depicted with a sake bottle in one hand (usually purchased with fake money made from leaves) and a promissory note in the other (a bill it never pays).

A curious and defining characteristic of Tanuki is its gigantic testes. According to some legends, the testicles / scrotum can be stretched to the size of eight tatami mats. Others point to the word Senjojiki (the space of 1,000 tatami mats) as an indication of the Tanuki's testes size. Called Kin-tama (Golden Balls) in Japanese, the testes are supposedly symbols of good luck rather than overt sexual symbols (the Japanese are more tolerant of low humor than most Western nations). In the movie Heisei Tanuki Gassen Ponpoko, the Tanuki stretches out its scrotum as a parachute in a desperate suicide attack. In other Tanuki folklore, the Tanuki uses the testes as an impromptu drum, beating out the "ponpoko" sound.

The tanuki in all his glory:

A line of tanuki in front of a restaurant

My brother-in-law, Dave, worshipping at the shrine of Tanuki.

It's really quite hideous (however I should apologize to all acutal tanuki out there. Having never seen a real one in nature, my only experience with the tanuki is the statues...in reality they could be quite cute....but I'm guessing probably not...) Another curiosity regarding the tanuki is the amazement and enthusiastic interest in them from most men who visit Japan.

Well...maybe it isn't such a curiosity...a gluttonous, drunken raccoon dog with giant testicles? What's not to love?

St. Patrick's Day in Japan

2007-03-20T19:57:00.000+09:00

So how do the Japanese celebrate St. Patrick's Day? Karaoke, of course...and watching all the foreigners get intoxicated. I actually think karaoke should become a part of all holidays, both at home and abroad...mutal understanding through song...I like the sound of that...
Have you ever wondered what Snoop Dog's lyrics look like in Japanese? Well wonder no more...

Birthday dinner...

Sayonara

2007-03-07T18:54:00.000+09:00

Last month I had to say good-bye to my graduating students at one of my schools. It was actually quite sad...I think I enjoyed teaching this group of students the best out of both my schools and all my other classes. Anyway, as a little keepsake, I had the students write about their dreams for the future, then typed them all and put the compositions together in a little booklet for each student. We also took class pictures for the booklet (see below). Anyway, as a little surprise, all the students wrote me a little "good-bye" letter and at the end of our last class each student presented his/her letter and said a short speech in English. So in honor of my cute soon-to-be high school students, here are their pics and a few of my favorite letters:

This student, Kento, sings in a gospel choir (don't ask me how or why). He said his English has really improved because of it...he certainly has some interesting word choices. His favorite gospel song? "We are the World".

I'm pretty sure telling someone that he/she has a "small face" is a compliment here...

See if you can guess what song this was "borrowed" from...

This student's #1 dream for the future: "My dream is to visit Katie's house."

This is from Miki-san, who came to my desk everyday after lunch to chat and help me with my Japanese homework.

Typical school day…

2007-02-18T13:03:00.000+09:00

On several separate occasions, students stare at my face in wonder and make the comment “hana takai! hana takai!” (big nose) to me in the hall and/or class

Students ask me in class if my hair color/eye color is natural (“Katie-san, colored-o contacto?”)

Student repeatedly asks me in class if I know someone named “Maka-san” and also how to say concabu paipu, senso, and hikoki in English (corncob pipe, war, and airplane respectively). I told the student I had no idea who “Maka-san” was…the student then proceed to try and explain who this person was by drawing a series of pictures and showing me portions of his history book. Still confused, I asked one of the Japanese teachers…turns out the student was talking about General Douglas MacArthur. Apparently MacArthur was in charge of the allied occupation of Japan after WWII…did we learn this in history class at Monroe City R-1?

Student asks me if Americans are really as big as they look on TV

Student asks me who my favorite character is (by “character”, student was referring to animated character). Most normal adults back home don’t really have a favorite animated character…however in the past, this response has proved to be unacceptable by my students. My now standard response is “SpongeBob Squarepants”.

Was blown literally off my feet and into a rice paddy while waiting for the bus in front of the school…luckily the rice paddy was empty, so only thing damaged was my pride (it’s very windy in this part of the country…)

General MacArthur with "concabu paipu"

Where the hell have I been??

2007-02-10T10:45:00.000+09:00

For the last month or so, I have been dedicating myself to snowboarding every weekend. My location in Japan makes this a prime spot for winter sports due to the fact that it's very close to the best ski resorts in Japan. I live near the "Japanese Alps" (while some may scoff at the idea of "Japanese Alps", I think it's a pretty appropriate description). There are a few ski resorts here in Ishikawa and there are also some great places in Niigata and Nagano, which are about 2 hours north. We just hop on a bus (usually at some ungodly hour...last weekend we had to be on the bus at 6 a.m.!) and go snowboarding for the day, then unwind after a hard day of boarding at a hot spring.

Since my snowboarding career started only very recently, I am still quite the novice. Usually I just try to stay standing and plow down the mountain any way I can. The more times I go, though, the more I notice that my technique isn't quite as pretty as everyone else's on the mountain. So last weekend, with the help from my friend Alice, I started to work on my skills. I spent most of the day on my ass and I am almost certain that I broke my tailbone (or at least severely bruised it). I also was unable to turn my head or bend my neck for several days afterward...I was doing my own abbreviated version of "the robot" all week in class...

I am sure people are highly entertained watching me and my friends snowboard. As with most activities in Japan, whenever a large group of us go out together it enevitably brings looks of confusion, astonishment, and intense curiosity. Last weekend, as I was falling face first into a huge bank of snow, a kid flew past on his snowboard and screamed "I love sex!" as he passed me. His friend flew by and yelled "me too!" And people say all the money Japan invests into English language education isn't paying off....

Of Ray Charles and the factory of sperm

2007-01-19T15:00:00.000+09:00

So I find myself at school today with a raging hangover courtesy of three elderly students of mine. A few weeks ago, I began teaching a private lesson to 3 doctors in my town. They decided to throw me a little “welcome” party, so last night, in lieu of our regular class, the doctors (whom, for the sake of privacy, I’ll call Dr. I, Dr. H, and Dr. M) took me to their favorite tempura restaurant (and in case you don’t know, tempura usually consists of fish and little vegetables that are fried in a light batter.) Since it was a school night and also because the all the doctors are in their 70’s, I wasn’t expecting too much insanity.

The doctors are part of the local chapter of the “Japanese/French Culture exchange” (which is basically a bunch of old Japanese men sitting around drinking wine) so they were eager to share their knowledge of the vino...from the moment I sat down until the moment we left 2 hours later I don’t think my glass was ever empty. Now as I mentioned, tempura is usually fish and vegetables that are battered and fried, so immediately you know that everything’s gonna be good (one wonders how can anything fried not be good?) In this particular restaurant, we were seated around a bar where the chef was working, so as the food was fried it was placed directly on our plate. We started with the basic shrimp but as the meal progressed, both the fish and vegetables got increasingly more obscure and strange...

Here I will interject with a word of caution for anyone visiting Japan: if a Japanese person tells you to eat something while laughing, but won’t tell you what it is until after you eat it...it’s safe to assume that: A) you’ll probably be completely disgusted, B) you’ll probably have nightmare flashbacks about eating it, which may cause you to gag at inappropriate times, and C) it’s probably some sort of fish genitalia. In my case last night, I was given the deep fried delicacy called tarako, which literally means “children of cod”. However I prefer the description the doctors gave me last night: “cod sperm factory”...yum! I bet your mouths are watering right now just thinking about it! Here is a better description that I found from Wikipedia: Soft Roe, also called white roe is the male reproductive glands and their contents. Ugh! Even just seeing that description in writing is giving me the chills!

Well, needless to say, I could not drink my wine fast enough to try and get rid to that “unique” flavor and texture. After dinner, the doctors suggested that we go out for more drinks. Even though it was late, I had to accept...I wasn’t about to let some septuagenarians out-party me! We went to Dr. M’s favorite jazz bar, which was pretty rockin’ on a Thursday night (and by “rockin’”, I mean as rockin’ as a place can get where the average age of the patrons is around 65).

Somehow the topic of conversation drifted to Singapore, so from then on the doctors insisted I drink Singapore Slings for the rest of the night. And much to my humiliation, I was also forced into singing a karaoke rendition of “Georgia on My Mind” with Dr. I accompanying on the maracas and the bar owner accompanying on electric guitar. I guess a night out in Japan wouldn’t be complete without a least one embarrassing karaoke experience...

Anyway, there are plenty more amusing antecdotes from the evening...but I lack the energy to describe them at the moment. Also, I'm still feeling a bit queasy from thinking about the sperm factory that I ate. I suspect that I shall be haunted by this unholy, spectral fish gland for weeks to come...out, damn'd tarako! Out I say!

by popular demand...

2006-12-12T18:25:00.000+09:00

It has been brought to my attention that "The Fool's Progress" is suffering from a lack of author photos. So...here are a few prime shots from a little sayonara party we had last weekend. My friend Pete is going back to Australia to start med school, so in honor of that we decided to kill a few brain cells (he won't really be needing those in med school anyway, will he?) There seems to be a recurring theme with me in the photos...I think I had decided that in order to avoid making what my dear friend Kitty affectionately calls "duck face" in the photos, I should open my mouth as wide as possible. I can't tell if the experiment was a raging success or huge failure...

This is me, the future Dr. Pete, and my friend Jess. We're bringin' the peace sign back (note: Justin Timberlake reference)

I call this one "Ode to Britney" (gum, gaping mouth)

The sign of a good party? Accordians, of course....

Jingle Bells never sounded so good...

Thanks to Mr. Shone (AKA accordian player number2) for the pics!

declarations of love

2006-12-05T18:47:00.000+09:00

The level of my pedagogical prowess has reached an all time high. Today in the hall between classes, one of my students said to me (this is a direct quote): "I was born to love you." Well obviously, after he said it I was in complete shock...I mean, he used the passive tense and everything!! And I refuse to believe that he heard the line in some crappy J-pop song...

Anyway, here's a picture of the aforementioned student (second from the right) I've suspected for a while that he has a crush on me...he always tells me that I have "nice hair" when I see him in the hall.

And here are a few more shots of my students just for fun. I am making my English bulletin board for this month...little do these students know that I have taken advantage of their narcissism in mugging for the camera so that I can secretly plaster their faces up in the hallway for the amusement of the rest of the school. This one is especially funny since I took it in the staff room and just as I was about to take the photo, out of nowhere the music teacher leapt over her desk and several trash cans to get in the shot.

Here are some 1st graders...way too cute! Today in class we wrote Christmas cards to teachers and friends. The kid on the far left wrote a card to his friend (the student standing next to him). This was his Xmas wish: "Dear Bob (friend's nickname), I enjoy your stomach. Merry Christmas!"

Thanksgiving!

2006-11-26T13:41:00.000+09:00

Well, it looks like Thanksgiving 2006 has come and gone, and for the second year in a row I have managed to avoid the eat-a-thon that usually occurs at this time every year. I'm not sure what it is about Thanksgiving, but it always seems to inspire some type of overindulgance regardless of my location on the map. Last year was a "wine-a-thon" and this year was "sushi-a-thon". In lieu of the traditional turkey and stuffing, this year I went for top of the line sushi at a little place here in Nonoichi. One of the teachers that I work with thought it would be fun to take me to an expensive sushi shop (as opposed to the ol' stand-by conveyor belt sushi, or kaiten sushi, favored among those of us with a less discerning palate for quality sushi...and also because it's cheap) so after work a few Japanese teachers and I met up at a unbelievably tiny little sushi shop. We all crammed ourselves into our seats at the counter, which is nice since you get to see the sushi chef in action and you can also see the wide array of strange fish behind the glass on the counter top (some of which was still moving, by the way) The owner/chef is a big soccer fan and likes to travel around the world to see soccer matches, so his english was perfect. He seemed to take great joy in pulling out all the most horrific looking sea creatures to explain what exactly I was about to eat....to be honest, on most occasions I think I would have enjoyed some of the food more had I not known what it looked like in its previous life...

As the sushi stared flowing, so too did the beer. It's always interesting to talk to the teachers outside of the school setting to get their real opinions about things. I got to hear all the juicy gossip about the other teachers and the principal, and during the course of the gossip session we got onto the topic of obscene words, which, in my opinion, are the most valuable words to know when learning a foreign language. By the end of the night, all the teachers and I were calling each other "assholes" and discussing the socio-linguistic differences between the phrases "take a dump" and "bowel movement". At one point, in the heat of discussion, I accidentally screamed out "unko" (the Japanese word for "shit") which gave all the other patrons in the restaurant quite a laugh. Now that's what I call internationalization....

Here are a few pics of the more interesting things on the menu:

sea cucumber (in its natual habitat)...very crunchy...

fermented squid intestines....salty

awabi (in english "abalone"...since I had no idea what this was in neither Japanese nor English, here's a definition: Any of various large edible marine gastropods of the genus Haliotis, having an ear-shaped shell with a row of holes along the outer edge. The colorful pearly interior of the shell is often used for making ornaments. Also called ear shell) I was told that this is one of the most expensive delicacies at high end sushi shops. Because I had never tried it before, the sushi chef gave us a free sample....I'll only say that it tasted about as good as it looks. I'll let you draw your own conclusions...

This is "anko", sweet bean paste found in many desserts here in Japan. We didn't eat this at the sushi restaurant, but if you'll notice the word anko is quite similar to the word unko (mentioned in the post above). It seems they share more than just a morphological similarity...

Are you jonile tonight?

2006-11-06T21:57:00.000+09:00

Here's a little something I picked up from the grocery store yesterday. As I was browsing through the tofu aisle (yes, here they have an entire aisle dedicated to tofu of various forms in all its bland glory) and I stumbled upon this little snack. For all those heartbroken and adrift lovers out there, you can now soothe your heartache with "Are you jonile tonight?" tofu in a convenient to-go container. I'll admit that I immediately threw one into my shopping basket for the sole purpose of posting a picture of it on this here blog-thingy....but despite all the clever little jokes and giggling that occurred at the tofu's expense, I have to say that it might just be the best damn tofu I have ever eaten! So smooth! So creamy! How they could create something so delicious out of soy I'll never know....I may be "jonile" tonight, but at least my taste-buds will go to bed satisfied....

ii nioi!

2006-10-21T18:39:00.000+09:00

I have a student who likes to smell me. It started a few weeks ago; at first I thought it would just be an isolated incident, but I now see that it has become a regular part of my classes with her. Let me explain...the student is an 1st grader (I guess that would be 6th grade back home) and she's a bit crazy and over-zealous when it comes to English class. Don't get me wrong, it's a refreshing change from the days when I would ask a question like "how are you today?" and the only response would be a few yawns and dead-eyed stares. Anyway, this student looooooves English class. When she sees me walk in to the classroom, she starts squirming and jumping in her seat and waving at me before the class even begins.

Anyway, so a few weeks ago during class, as I was passing out papers for an activity, I handed her a paper and as I was turning to walk away, she grabbed my arm and very forcefully pulled me back. She then pulled me down towards her and screamed excitedly to her friend "ii nioi!!" (nice smell!) I was able to pry her hands away and moved on to the other side of the room. I am not quite sure what exactly she was smelling...was it my Secret deodorant with the new, refreshing "lavender splash" scent? Or maybe my fabric softner? My hypothesis is that she thinks I have a particular "foreigner" scent which she really enjoys. Well, whatever the reason, she thinks I smell good and now makes a point of smelling me every time we have class. Sometimes she doesn't remember to do it right away, and just when I think "good, she's finally grown out of that phase!" I see the lightbulb go on in her head as she thinks to herself "I need to smell the English teacher today!"...when that happens, there's nothing I can do but walk over to her desk and let her nose have its way with me...

Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of the student who smells me, but I've included some from our school's annual sports festival. These things are amazing! Every September, every school in Japan has an all day festival in which the students are divided into teams and made to participate in a number of ridiculous, arbitrary, and slightly dangerous games. Inevitably the sports festival is held on an extremely hot day (so hot that by 9:00 a.m. my shirt and my pants were completely soaked through with sweat) The day wouldn't be complete without at least 2 or 3 students passing out from the heat and exhaustion. Hooray for sports day!

Leg-tie game: Tie four students together at the feet. Make them run across the field. Let the fun begin!

Stipper pole race: (OK, so it's not really a stripper pole) Four students hold the pole. Race down the field and around a cone. Race back to starting position.

3rd grade boys on the blue team. I made myself an honorary member of the blue team, altough I was told to remain impartial as to avoid upsetting members of the opposing teams...but what can I say, the blue team was closer to the shade...

All the students wanted to try on my cool sunglasses...

Crazy girls from the badminton club:

Team cheer

What's for lunch today at school?

2006-09-25T14:48:00.000+09:00

Fried whale meat.

España Part 2: El Camino

2006-09-23T12:48:00.000+09:00

So now that you know a little history about el camino, I’ll explain a bit more about our journey. We started out from a little town called Sarria, which is about 120 km from Santiago. After a 12 hour bus trip from San Sebastian we arrived in Sarria. One of the coolest things about the pilgrim's route is that it is marked with yellow arrows leading the way. So immediately after walking out of the bus station we saw our first yellow arrow leading us to the trail. At this point both Jill and I started getting excited (both of us daydreaming, perhaps, of our sun burnt and road-weary selves and our heroic yet humble pilgrimage, dramatically arriving in Santiago to the cheers and encouragement of the simple townsfolk…completely full of shit, of course...) So as the sun was setting we headed to our first refuge, almost getting lost within our first 15 minutes of the pilgrimage (even with the arrows…typical), only to find that it was full. We proceeded to ask at every refuge and pensión in town only to find that they, too, were full. Finally, at the last place in town, we convinced a sweet (and possibly senile) old lady to let us stay on the floor in her living room. She made us swear not to tell anyone in town where we were staying and told us to come back after dark so nobody would see us enter the pensión. Apparently, many of the places that house pilgrims get subsidies from the government, so that they can offer cheap accommodation to pilgrims. In turn, the people who run the pensiones must declare all the rooms/number of pilgrims. As we found out, many places have “secret” or undeclared rooms so that they can make a little extra money on the side. Anyway, we got to stay in one of the secret rooms, but once inside we weren’t allowed to turn on the lights or open the window…as I said before, the little old lady was a little crazy (she also made us hide our backpacks inside the pantry in the kitchen…in case of a middle-of-the-night raid, perhaps?)

The next morning we officially started our pilgrimage. I, being the procrastinator that I am, had done a last minute packing job before I left Japan, so any supplies and equipment that I had were all bought at the 100 yen store the day before I left. Using only the small, detachable travel backpack part of my larger backpack and wearing my worn out old running shoes, I was taking the minimalist approach. Jill, on the other hand, had spent weeks (if not months) making multiple trips to REI and doing research on the internet about packing lists, etc. So of course Jill had prepared everything down to the last, minute detail, and was carrying a large, brand new, state of the art backpack filled with the latest “moisture wicking” clothing technology and wearing top of the line hiking shoes; quite the contrast to my approach! While I openly mocked Jill for being fooled by the marketing ploys and hi-tech descriptions, I was secretly envious of much of the gear and kicking myself for my lack of preparation. Anyway, I was determined to prove that I could fare just as well with no gear…minimalist vs. western excess, the ultimate challenge!

So how does the challenge end, you may be asking yourselves? Well, in the end, the pilgrimage kicked both of our asses, gear or no gear. After day 1 of the journey, having walked about 22 or 23 km, we arrived in Portomarín with swollen and blistered feet, aching backs, and sufficiently humbled. Touché, el camino, touché…

Jill, draining the blood from her feet...Pilgrim climbing the stairs to Portomarín

España! Part 1

2006-09-08T19:47:00.000+09:00

Well, for those of you that might not know, I have just spent the last (almost!) month in beloved España for summer vacation. You may be asking yourselves “why, if she lives in Japan, did Katie go all the way to Spain for a vacation?” I agree, it would have made more sense to either a) go home and visit the family or b) travel somewhere exotic in Southeast Asia (since that is one of the major reasons why I am in Japan in the first place!)

To explain, let me first say that these plans for a “Spanish reunion” were made almost 4 years ago. While living in Spain, Jill and I crammed in our fair share of adventures and road trips, but there was one that we couldn’t quite find the time or money to do, which was walking the millennia old pilgrim’s trail across the North of Spain called “el camino de Santiago de Compostela” (or “the way of St. James). So we promised ourselves that, no matter what, we would go back and do it before we turned 30. At the time the “age 30” deadline seemed like a comically far-off point…however as life and grad school kind of got in the way, we found ourselves knocking on 30’s door. Anyway, the time was right, so it just so happened that I am living at possibly the farthest point on the map from Spain (OK, so maybe not, but it sure as hell seemed like it during my 48 HOUR journey to get there….I won’t even mention my layover in Qatar (yeah, look it up on the map, I had to…) which is a whole ‘nother blog entry in itself).

Anyway, so back to the reason why we went in the first place: el camino. To give a little background about the pilgrimage, here’s a little something I found on Wikipedia (so you know it’s all completely accurate and from a credible source…)

The Way of St James has been one of the most important Christian pilgrimages since medieval times and it has existed for over 1000 years. It was considered one of three pilgrimages on which all sins could be forgiven - the others being the Via Francigena to Rome and the pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

There is not a single route - the Way can be one of any number of pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela. However a few of the routes are considered main ones. Santiago is such an important pilgrimage destination as it is considered the burial site of the apostle James the Great. Legend states that St. James' remains were carried by boat from Jerusalem to northern Spain where they were buried on the site of what is now the city of Santiago de Compostela. In the middle ages the route was highly traveled. However, the Protestant Reformation and political unrest in 16th century Europe resulted in its decline. In the early 1980s only a few pilgrims arrived in Santiago annually. However, since the late 1980s the way has attracted a growing number of modern-day pilgrims from all around the globe. The route was declared the first European Cultural Route by the Council of Europe in October 1987 and inscribed as one of UNESCO's World Heritage Sites in 1993.

The earliest records of visits paid to the shrine dedicated to St James at Santiago de Compostela date from the 8th century, in the times of the Kingdom of Asturias. This was the most renowned medieval pilgrimage; and the custom of those who carried back with them from Galicia scallop shells as proof of their journey gradually extended to other forms of pilgrimage.

The earliest recorded pilgrims from beyond the Pyrenees had visited the shrine in the middle of the 10th century, but it seem that it was not until a century later that pilgrims from abroad were regularly journeying there in large numbers, even the first recorded pilgrims from England, between 1092 and 1105. By the early 12th century the pilgrimage was a highly organized affair. Four established pilgrimage routes from starting points in France converged in the Basque country of the western Pyrenees. From there a single combined track crossed northern Spain, linking Burgos, Carrión de los Condes, Sahagún, León, Astorga and Lugo

In Spain and southern France pilgrim's hostels dot the common routes providing overnight accommodation for recognised pilgrims, i.e. whoever who holds a credencial. In Spain this type of accommodation is called a refugio or an albergue. The style of accommodation is somewhat similar to those provided by youth hostels, or the French system of Gîtes d'étape; beds are in dormitories and usually cost between 3 and 7 Euros per night, though a few are by donation only. Pilgrims are usually limited to one night's accommodation.

Sometimes these hostels are run by the local parish, sometimes by the local council, and sometimes they are privately owned or run by pilgrim's associations. Occasionally these refugios are located in monasteries, such as the one in Samos, and run by the monks.

Pilgrims arriving in Santiago de Compostela who have walked at least the last 100km, or cycled 200km to get there (as indicated on their credencial) are eligible for a certificate called the Compostela from the Pilgrim's Office in Santiago.

Many people choose to do the pilgrimage in various sections, usually for one-week segments. Others choose to walk only the last 100 km (which is what we did), and the truly dedicated walk the entire route starting in France and ending up in Santiago (this takes about 1 month of walking to complete the entire 1250 km) In general, most pilgrims choose to do the route for religious reasons. The minority of the walkers go for other reasons (spiritual, for sport, adventure travel, etc.) Obviously neither Jill nor I were there for religious purposes, but we’d like to think that the journey was somewhat spiritual in nature….

Anyway, so now you have the background about el camino and the major motivation behind our trip…and this particular blog entry has exhausted me! So here’s a few pictures from our first few days in Spain before we started our pilgrimage:

This is from the international festival in Santander where we saw this amazing ballet. It was choreograhped and perfomed to the music of Pink Floyd! And the best part? The perfomance was done by a ballet company from Tokyo! Very impressive...and we even managed to sweet talk our way in without tickets so it was free!

Jill and Cheese: A Love Story

Me and the finest drink ever created: Biofrutas (OK, so they changed the name to "Funciona" but that just sounds stupid)

statue of Christ on the hill with paraglider in San Sebastian

that pretty much sums it up...

church facade in San Sebastian

OK, so stay tuned for my next post about the pilgrimage and the rest of the journey!

Out of the office....

2006-08-03T08:59:00.000+09:00

So in a few hours I will be embarking on my big pilgrimmage to Spain!! Wow, can't belive it's been 5 years since I last visited....Anyway, I thought I would do one last update before I left (I couldn't leave all my fans hanging for an entire month, now could I?) These are just some shots of the 'hood I took the other evening. This first one is a little shrine next to the river behind my apartment:
This is a street behind my apartment:
the river:
scarecrow in the middle of a rice paddy: more scarecrows:
the whole paddy was full of them...a scarecrow exhibit, perhaps?

Pimptastic!

2006-07-28T14:03:00.000+09:00

So it's natsu yasumi around here (that's "summer vacation" for all you monolinguals out there) and where I come from, summer vacation from school means 2 and 1/2 months of complete hibernation of all critical thinking and intelligent thoughts. In Japan, on the other hand, it seems that it's businsess as usual even during summer vacations. Teachers as well as students still come to school every day. Granted the atmosphere is much more relaxed and there are no classes, but the mere fact that we are required to come to school at all is almost too much for my educated-within-the-American-school-system brain to comprehend. Just yesterday there was quite the upheaval in the staffroom because of the behavior of one of the students and his small act of summer vacation-induced rebellion. The student was brought into the staffroom, where he was promptly surrounded by at least 5 or 6 teachers (during the course of this episode, at least 3 other teachers came in to join the fun) and yelled at in turn by all of them. Seeing how this was the most exciting part of my day, I listened intently for an clue as to what henious crime this student had committed. Since I couldn't really understand anything being said, I had to rely on my powers of deduction. After about 30 minutes of yelling and interrogation, I was convinced that the student had either stolen something, vandalized something, gotten drunk after raiding mom and dad's liquor cabinet, or maybe all three. From my jr. high and high school experiences, these seemed the most logical assumptions about what would warrant this type of ass-chewing. After all the teachers had thoroughly exhausted themselves from yelling, the student was sent out of the staffroom. I then asked one of the Japanese English teachers that I work with what had happened. In the end, all of my theories were completely wrong. The real crime? The student showed up to school without wearing his school uniform and attempted to eat an ice cream cone inside one of the classrooms (the contriband cone is still being held inside the evidence locker AKA the staffroom freezer) While not the outrageous display of teenage rebellion I had imagined, I guess for a Japanese jr. high school student, it's pretty ballsy behavior. He might just be my new favorite student...

Anyway, what does any of this have to do with the title of my post? Well, since I have been sitting here all week with nothing to do except sweat profusely, google chat, and search for things on the internet, I have found all sorts of interesting things to keep me busy. So today I spent a good 15 to 20 minutes on the website http://www.white-wolf.com/pimp/index.php?line=generator creating my new "pimp" name. I highly recommend this site....and here, in no particular order, are some of the highlights:

Bamboo Chute Katie Flowin' (I thought this one appropriate given my current location)

Tricky Mc Clintic Sweetness

Whiskey Lips Mc Clintic Super Suede

Fine Ass Mc Clintic W. Bushmaster

Uncle Katie White Chocolate

Super Suede Mary Stud

Warts K. G-Man

Skillz Katie Tricky

Maestro K. Snake Eyes

Homeboy Mc Clintic Devious

Vicious Mary Macktastic

Kicks K. Loco

Macktastic Katie Superfly

Short Katie Rothstein

Kitty: a dedication (part 2)

2006-07-21T10:22:00.000+09:00

As a continuation of "Kitty Appreciation Week", I wanted to include a shot of Kitty without the headgear. Make no mistake...viking horns are going to be THE fashion accessory of the season...but Kitty still looks hot without them.

Kitty: a dedication

2006-07-20T10:46:00.000+09:00

I just wanted to give a shout-out to my number one blog fan. Without the support of dedicated readers like Kitty, the zeigeist that is "The Fool's Progress" would not be what it is today. I salute you...

Biya Gahden

2006-07-20T10:28:00.000+09:00

Last Friday my friends and I were invited to go to a beer garden. We were all interviewed for a local college radio program that features foreigners that live in the area. In appreciation the host of the show, Roy, had the party for us (that's him in the center). As is typical of most drinking parties here, there was waaaay too much food. We also had the party on what I swear was the hottest and most humid night of the year. Yes, there's nothing like sitting outside dripping with sweat as you try to eat your weight it little appetizers. However the cold beer kept things tolerable... After we finished at the beer garden, we decided to do a little karaoke. One of the women who volunteers at the radio station with Roy informed us that he was a Japanese pop star in the 60's! Apparently Roy was in a "boy band" and was quite the heartthrob in his day! As a special treat, Roy sang one of his biggest hits for us at the karaoke place. I closed the evening of beer and karaoke by singing a (pathetic) rendition of "Afternoon Delight" by the Starlight Vocal Band. I thought it would be an amusing crowd-pleaser...but I was wrong. I guess without the irony it's not as funny. Lesson learned for the future...

Where I'm at...

2006-07-20T09:33:00.000+09:00

In just a few days I will celebrate my one year anniversary in Japan...so I thought this might be a good time to point out where I have been for the last year! Japan is divided into prefectures, which are kind of like states. I live in Ishikawa prefecture on the Sea of Japan coast. The capital is Kanazawa City and my town, Nonoichi, is basically an extension of Kanazawa. Yes, my friends, I live in suburbia... For all you geographically challenged individuals out there, I have included a map so you can get a visual of my location in relation to the rest of Japan.
Even though my town is quite small, I unfortunately live about as far away from my schools as possible without living in another town. This wasn't a problem...until I got my bike stolen from the local train station about a month ago which, incidentally, was not my fault. I was lulled into a false sense of secturity by the low crime rate here and therefore didn't lock my bike at the station...and left it there overnight. Little did I know that just below the wholesome surface of Nonoichi lies the bubbling underbelly of a crime syndicate filled with bike thieves and shoplifters. But I digress. Here's a shot of the local bus in Nonoichi (called the "Noti") that I now take to school in the morning:
So cute! Kawaiiiiiiii!!! They come in 3 cute colors and have their own cute little cartoon mascot (like most everything in Japan...must...have...cartoon...mascot...!) My students think it's hilarious that I ride the Noti. I don't see what's so funny, but maybe it's some sort of inside joke that I'm not getting? Anyway, they all stare into the bus window as it passes and if they see me on it they wave and laugh hysterically. Just don't get it...

The supermarket

2006-07-14T10:20:00.000+09:00

Going to the supermarket is always an adventure here. Usually I try to refrain from taking pictures of all the strange (and sometimes revolting) things that I see for fear of looking like a dumb "gaijin". For some reason, though, I couldn't resist taking a picture of the giant fish head on display...

And so it begins...

2006-06-26T21:33:00.000+09:00

Just felt the need to share a picture of my new drinking glasses. I always thought to myself "wow, that person has lived in Japan waaaaay too long" when I would meet other foreigners with an apartment/car/purse/etc. over-loaded with cute cartoon animals. Fast forward 11 months and I find myself in the 100 yen store overjoyed with my new "kawaiiiiiiiiiiii" purchased glasses. To understand how a completely rational adult could be overcome with joy by the sight of cute cartoon animals on juice glasses (which I plan on going back to buy the complete set), I must first explain the obsession with "kawaii" (cute). Everything here is "kawaii". If there ever were a more overused adjective in the entire Japanese language, nay world, it might very well be "kawaii". My students tell me how "kawaii" I am at least 10 times in each class, I hear it as I walk down the hall between classes, I hear it before school, I hear it walking to school, I hear it after classes have ended, I even hear students shouting it out the 3rd story windows at me as I leave the school. It was only a matter of time until I, too, began to define the things in my life as either "kawaii" or "not kawaii". I have also provided further evidence of the utter decline of my good taste by including a picture of my cell phone (hot pink, Kitty-chan charms) Laugh now, my friends, but guess what you're all getting next Christmas...

Soooo...now what?

2006-06-11T21:17:00.000+09:00

I guess I'll start my life as a blogger with some notes from my students here in Japan. Obviously, I am an amazing teacher....see for youself:

My students are very concerned with the state of my love life...

Cartoon version of me as envisioned by one of my lovely students. Unfortunately, the hair is dead on...damn you, humidity in Japan!