A close shave
A quiet week again this week. Well, quiet at home whilst work has been busier than ever. The new academic year starts in April so this time of year is always grab-a-new-student time, which essentially means we open on one Sunday a month to cunningly entice prospective students into the schools before telling them they cant have lessons on a Sunday as we don’t usually open. This meant that Sunday last week I was in one of the offices, making myself visible to keep up the morale of the troops (as in, it’s a shitter that I have to give up my day off, but at least the managers do as well), not sure if it worked, but there you go. Not only that but Monday last week was a national holiday – vernal equinox, don’t you know – and I had to work again! Schools were all open but for those in the office it was meant to be a holiday except for a token presence. Guess who got to be the token?
This led to a very real and very alarming crisis. As mentioned the schools were all open and so I was in the office in case there were any sick teachers out there who needed cover arranged for them. Unluckily there were more sickies (and some were definitely sickies) than there were possibilities on the sick teacher standby list, especially after one teacher who knew she was on standby was resolutely uncontactable. The crisis that this created was that I had to go out to teach, something that has not happened for a long time…
I thought it was going to be for the whole day as no one seemed able to fill in, which would have made it a very long day indeed, however at the last minute the district manager (whose day off it was) called the office. It was this manager’s teacher that was uncontactable so he manfully stepped into the breach and did the day (even though I told him not to as it was his day off, but he wasn’t having any of it). So in the end I only had to teach one lesson, 40 minutes with one two-and-a-half year old kid (the other two in the lesson didn’t show, obviously off enjoying themselves somewhere else – pagan rituals to welcome the sun, perhaps?). Actually, the lesson was only about 30 minutes as the first 10 were spent trying to coax the kid away from his father, but once we got going it was kind of fun and good practice for my forthcoming parenthood (except in this cse I could give the kid back after 40 minutes, something I guess I won’t be able to do with my own). Still, it was most strange being back in a classroom and teaching as it is something I haven’t had to do for a good long while now, but the old magic seemed to be there and kid enjoyed himself, and so did I really, so all were happy in the end.
Anyway, as I worked on Sunday and bank holiday Monday last week, I took today off as a day in lieu, and wouldn’t you know it, it has chucked it down with rain all fecking day.
But this has meant that a) I got some study done and b) played more GT4. The study is going well-ish for this assignment. This one is all about the curriculum and monitoring of teaching and learning, which is quite possibly as boring as it sounds, but it should be done by the end of April, from where I shall take a six month break for the birth of the baby.
Oh how I am looking forward to weekends without having to think about studying.
That will be 2 years done and one more to go, which will be essentially a year to do the dissertation (including six months of a research methods module which, I am sure, require me to study statistics, something I do not what to do as it is all bollocks). Quite how I am going to gird my loins to restart studying in October, I am not sure. One method I have put in place is paying the final year fees now, rather than when I resume, as hopefully this will spur my return (as, if I don’t finish the course, I will have to repay all the contributions the company have made to the fees, something again I do not want to do as we won’t have the money).
More important than all of this, though, is getting through GT4. I’m now up to 67% completed and have cracked the professional hall. Now all is left are the rest of the endurance races (three done so far) and the extreme hall, which doesn’t look too extreme as I’ve already done one of the series and it was a piece of piss. Still, not looking forward the three 24 hour races as I had a quick go and there doesn’t seem to be anyway to save during the race, even the pit stops are only for tyres and fuel, so unless there is some kind of time delay so that after a set number of hours it gives you the option, I think it might be a 24 hours all in one go. And that’s just silly. And night driving at the Nurburgring, that’s just silly as well.
Just one amusing story in the paper this week. Apparently a well-known economist was found guilty and fined on Wednesday for using a small mirror to try to look the skirt of a high school student at a railway station in Tokyo last year. But what made me smile – not the case, I hasten to add – in the report was that according to the Yomiuri, prosecutors had been demanding a “4-month prison sentence and forfeiture of the mirror”. I mean, forfeiture of the mirror, what’s that all about? Are mirror vendors all over Japan going to be notified about this bloke? His picture circulated and name whispered in certain circles? Just seems a somewhat strange thing for a state prosecutor to ask for, if you ask me.
Monday, 28 March 2005
Monday, 21 March 2005
From one natural disaster to another...
Been a quiet week, on the whole, the last week. Trying to cast my mind back for some of the odder stories to make themselves heard, but nothing seems to spring to mind. Baby stuff is going along without much of a hitch (this week!). Young Fuu chan seems to be moving around an awful lot, which is still one of the weirdest sensations I have ever felt – an unborn baby, moving around inside another person, it is such an everyday thing to hear but such a weird and wonderful thing to actually feel. I am not, I suspect, the first man to think this way (or, indeed, the first man to have a mental image of the first alien movie when he has his hands of his wife’s stomach).
A couple of months ago a parental warning was issued about the high pollen count that was poised to sweep the valleys of japan, bringing hay fever upon the unsuspecting inhabitants. “Ha” I scoffed, “the advanced and on the ball Japanese news media have made nary a mention of this” was my considered response, forgetting, it would seem, by usual scepticism of the aforementioned Japanese news media. Well the pollen hit with a vengeance this week, liberally dusting the entire Kanto plain with its yellow sneezing powder. This is all due, apparently (according to Alex Kerr in Dogs and Demons), to the Environmental Ministry (to whom we show deference and respect), who decided that natural deciduous woodland was not in any way ‘a good thing’ as it wasn’t made of concrete. So at first they decided to cut all the trees down and replace with greyness, but even the average Japanese bod thought this a tad too much and complained, just a little, so the Ministry rethought their plan and planted miles upon miles of cedar trees. Their thinking was, I suppose, not bad for the time, as they believed that they could maintain the forests and sell the wood (Japanese houses are, as mentioned elsewhere, 90% wooden in their construction, much like a Keanu Reeves role in a movie). But of course, as this is Japanese wood it is far more expensive than imported wood (which isn't nearly as good), illegally cut down from virgin rainforests in Indonesia, so no one would buy it.
So, combine one part huge numbers of cedar trees planted all over the mountains encircling the Kanto plain with two parts exceptionally hot summer in 2004, add a dash of springtime and mix thoroughly with the spring winds and, et voila, you have a hay fever epidemic that is 30 to 500 times worse than anything Japan has ever experienced before, depending on what news you read. Not really a natural disaster, I grant you, but at least a national commotion.
Me? Not a problem. Hardly a sneeze or a sniffle to be seen. I would crow or gloat about it, but I know that it can start within the blink of an eye, so nothing but sympathy from me. At a meeting at work last Friday a chap who had never suffered in his life looked as if he had the worst case of Spanish Influenza on record. The Guru, herself never been susceptible in the past, has been sneezing and spluttering he way through the week, no doubt worrying Fuu chan as she hasn’t got the hang of sneezing yet so always needs to have about 8 goes (or should that be go's?) to get the tubes unblocked.
But as you can no doubt imagine, if the only thing that I can think to write about is the state of hay fever in the nation, things must have been slow.
Two Japanese and one Philippine sailor were captured by pirates in the Malacca straights on Wednesday or Thursday. Now this sounds cool, full of action and derring do, that sort of caper, but no, they were released unharmed over the weekend and are now recovering in Penang, which is quite a pleasant place to do it, by all accounts.
Also a magnitude 6- (on the Japanese scale of 7) earthquake rocked the top of the southern island of Kyushu, 1 fatality and over three hundred hurt, but thankfully none of our teachers where caught up in anything unpleasant. Though with big earthquakes now having hit Kyushu, Niigata and Hokkaido (not to mention the Indian ocean quake and tsunami) in the last year or so, I am getting just a little antsy about living in Tokyo. I am a firm believer in the ‘if there are lots of small and medium earthquakes this is a good thing as it relieves the pressures building up underground’ school of misplaced optimism, but even my usually sunny outlook is getting just a tad worried about all this seismic activity. I don’t know if I mentioned before, but the big insurance company Munich Re produced a report recently of the most dangerous cities to live in across the world, graded by likelihood of dying horribly in a natural disaster.
Top of the list was, of course, Tokyo, with a get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here index of over 700. Second placed San Francisco came in with a glad-I-don’t-live-in-Tokyo score of about 160.
Oh well.
Been a quiet week, on the whole, the last week. Trying to cast my mind back for some of the odder stories to make themselves heard, but nothing seems to spring to mind. Baby stuff is going along without much of a hitch (this week!). Young Fuu chan seems to be moving around an awful lot, which is still one of the weirdest sensations I have ever felt – an unborn baby, moving around inside another person, it is such an everyday thing to hear but such a weird and wonderful thing to actually feel. I am not, I suspect, the first man to think this way (or, indeed, the first man to have a mental image of the first alien movie when he has his hands of his wife’s stomach).
A couple of months ago a parental warning was issued about the high pollen count that was poised to sweep the valleys of japan, bringing hay fever upon the unsuspecting inhabitants. “Ha” I scoffed, “the advanced and on the ball Japanese news media have made nary a mention of this” was my considered response, forgetting, it would seem, by usual scepticism of the aforementioned Japanese news media. Well the pollen hit with a vengeance this week, liberally dusting the entire Kanto plain with its yellow sneezing powder. This is all due, apparently (according to Alex Kerr in Dogs and Demons), to the Environmental Ministry (to whom we show deference and respect), who decided that natural deciduous woodland was not in any way ‘a good thing’ as it wasn’t made of concrete. So at first they decided to cut all the trees down and replace with greyness, but even the average Japanese bod thought this a tad too much and complained, just a little, so the Ministry rethought their plan and planted miles upon miles of cedar trees. Their thinking was, I suppose, not bad for the time, as they believed that they could maintain the forests and sell the wood (Japanese houses are, as mentioned elsewhere, 90% wooden in their construction, much like a Keanu Reeves role in a movie). But of course, as this is Japanese wood it is far more expensive than imported wood (which isn't nearly as good), illegally cut down from virgin rainforests in Indonesia, so no one would buy it.
So, combine one part huge numbers of cedar trees planted all over the mountains encircling the Kanto plain with two parts exceptionally hot summer in 2004, add a dash of springtime and mix thoroughly with the spring winds and, et voila, you have a hay fever epidemic that is 30 to 500 times worse than anything Japan has ever experienced before, depending on what news you read. Not really a natural disaster, I grant you, but at least a national commotion.
Me? Not a problem. Hardly a sneeze or a sniffle to be seen. I would crow or gloat about it, but I know that it can start within the blink of an eye, so nothing but sympathy from me. At a meeting at work last Friday a chap who had never suffered in his life looked as if he had the worst case of Spanish Influenza on record. The Guru, herself never been susceptible in the past, has been sneezing and spluttering he way through the week, no doubt worrying Fuu chan as she hasn’t got the hang of sneezing yet so always needs to have about 8 goes (or should that be go's?) to get the tubes unblocked.
But as you can no doubt imagine, if the only thing that I can think to write about is the state of hay fever in the nation, things must have been slow.
Two Japanese and one Philippine sailor were captured by pirates in the Malacca straights on Wednesday or Thursday. Now this sounds cool, full of action and derring do, that sort of caper, but no, they were released unharmed over the weekend and are now recovering in Penang, which is quite a pleasant place to do it, by all accounts.
Also a magnitude 6- (on the Japanese scale of 7) earthquake rocked the top of the southern island of Kyushu, 1 fatality and over three hundred hurt, but thankfully none of our teachers where caught up in anything unpleasant. Though with big earthquakes now having hit Kyushu, Niigata and Hokkaido (not to mention the Indian ocean quake and tsunami) in the last year or so, I am getting just a little antsy about living in Tokyo. I am a firm believer in the ‘if there are lots of small and medium earthquakes this is a good thing as it relieves the pressures building up underground’ school of misplaced optimism, but even my usually sunny outlook is getting just a tad worried about all this seismic activity. I don’t know if I mentioned before, but the big insurance company Munich Re produced a report recently of the most dangerous cities to live in across the world, graded by likelihood of dying horribly in a natural disaster.
Top of the list was, of course, Tokyo, with a get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here index of over 700. Second placed San Francisco came in with a glad-I-don’t-live-in-Tokyo score of about 160.
Oh well.
Monday, 14 March 2005
Play ball (or rather don’t)
Saw something in the news the other week which got me wondering, as these things often do. Apparently a few months ago, last summer perhaps, a couple of kids were in a park throwing a baseball to each other, the two kids in question were, I think, aged about 9 and 11, could even have been brothers, if I remember correctly.
Anyway at one point kid one throws to kid two but the throw is a wild one and goes off line and, unfortunately, the ball hits another kid square in the chest. Now, whether this was a deliberate throw at the younger kid, no one seems to know, but what happened next will not be appearing on Question of Sport anytime soon. There is a medical condition where if a something hits the chest of a young kid, there is a chance that the blow will act like an anti-defibrillator and actually stop the heart from beating (a bit like the experiment the docs used in the movie Flatliners to create near death experiences). This is exactly what happened to the younger kid and, as no one knew what was happening at the time, no one knew what to do and as a consequence the young kid tragically died.
I have every sympathy with the parents of the young kid as it was a terrible accident, to be sure, but the they decided that they weren’t happy with that and so sued the parents of the two kids playing ball for 65 million yen. Now I, of course, was not privy to the court case in full, but the other week the Judge found in favour of the parents of the young kid and ordered the parents of the others to pay the slightly lesser amount of 62 million yen in compensation.
Interestingly the Judge did not decide that the two boys had wilfully attacked the young kid or deliberately thrown the ball at him, no, he realised that it was a tragic mistake. But what he did decide was that the two boys should have realised what would have happened if they let their ball hit the younger kid and so should not have been playing ball in the park around other people. Now firstly they weren’t, apparently, breaking any park rules by playing ball, so no problem there. But secondly, how is a 9 ye old and an 11 year old meant to know about an extremely rare condition that affects a tiny fraction of the population? How are they meant to have known that a ball in the chest, at the right pace and the right angle, might stop someone’s heart from beating? I say they couldn’t. I didn’t know anything about it until reading about this case. I’m pretty sure that goes for the rest of the population as well. I wonder if the young kids parents knew about it either, until it was too late at least? But it is the Judge’s comments that really got me, as if it was common knowledge and the kids were knowingly and recklessly endangering other people in the park. All this serves to do, I feel sure, is make sure that playing catch in the park with your mates will now be outlawed throughout Japan, another nail in the coffin of childhood innocence and fun (although I feel sure it won’t stop wanker golfers hitting their silly little balls all over the show with blatant disregard to signs telling them not to).
From now on, I reckon, playing catch will be something that kids can only do under the auspices of a controlled school atmosphere and strict supervision that, as usual for Japan, takes all the fun out of it and destroys the whole concept of the playing for the love of the game. And then what happens if the same thing happens on the school practice field? Every year, it seems there are reports of a kid at so-and-so junior high school who collapses, or worse, through heat exhaustion and dehydration as their sadistic baseball coach has been making them run and run in the heat (and humidity) of a midday in August. It’s all to do with ideas like ‘chinonijimu yo na doryokuwo suru’ which can mean, for example, to practice so hard you piss blood. Now is that, I wonder, really a healthy way to approach sports for an 11-year-old junior high school kid? Again I think not as, at that sort of age, sports should be about enjoying yourself and having a laugh with your mates. Practice, yes; play against other schools, yes; be driven so hard by the coach that you pass out and are then admonished for doing so, no thanks.
But that is the culture of after school club activities in Japan, everyone does them and everyone does them everyday. I may have written this little anecdote before, but if I have, tough. I remember I used to teach a group of junior high school kids on a Wednesday evening, three kids, two girls and a boy, very nice, quiet as they usually are that age but more expressive as they came out of themselves a bit. Anyway, late one august we had a lesson and I remarked to one of the girls that she must be sad that the summer holiday was almost over. “Oh no”, she replied, she was looking forward to getting back to school. Why? I wondered. Well, during term time the law states that kids can only go to school for a maximum of six days a week, and at state schools only six days every other week. But, in holidays there is no such law as the law says the students should be on holiday. The law doesn’t, however, account for ‘voluntary’ attendance and club activities which was such that the girl was going to school every single day of the seven days in the week. Mad. But madder still was the teacher that turned up every day and demanded their attendance. Getting back to regular school, it would seem, meant the girl got a day off! Some holiday...
The girl was in the school band and there was a big competition in early September so all members had to spend all of their holiday practicing. If they didn’t they might not get a place in the band (pretty bad) or even might let the school down (infinitely worse). So that was it, for their entire holiday. And no one, except perhaps the kids, seemed to mind, not their parents, not the teacher, not the management of the school and not the organisers of the band competition, who just as easily have arranged the competition for later in the year. Mad, the lot of them. But they are not, I reckon, likely to foster a spirit of love and devotion to music, or any of the other activities they do, by flogging the kids to death. Far from it, but maybe it’s a cultural thing.
Saw something in the news the other week which got me wondering, as these things often do. Apparently a few months ago, last summer perhaps, a couple of kids were in a park throwing a baseball to each other, the two kids in question were, I think, aged about 9 and 11, could even have been brothers, if I remember correctly.
Anyway at one point kid one throws to kid two but the throw is a wild one and goes off line and, unfortunately, the ball hits another kid square in the chest. Now, whether this was a deliberate throw at the younger kid, no one seems to know, but what happened next will not be appearing on Question of Sport anytime soon. There is a medical condition where if a something hits the chest of a young kid, there is a chance that the blow will act like an anti-defibrillator and actually stop the heart from beating (a bit like the experiment the docs used in the movie Flatliners to create near death experiences). This is exactly what happened to the younger kid and, as no one knew what was happening at the time, no one knew what to do and as a consequence the young kid tragically died.
I have every sympathy with the parents of the young kid as it was a terrible accident, to be sure, but the they decided that they weren’t happy with that and so sued the parents of the two kids playing ball for 65 million yen. Now I, of course, was not privy to the court case in full, but the other week the Judge found in favour of the parents of the young kid and ordered the parents of the others to pay the slightly lesser amount of 62 million yen in compensation.
Interestingly the Judge did not decide that the two boys had wilfully attacked the young kid or deliberately thrown the ball at him, no, he realised that it was a tragic mistake. But what he did decide was that the two boys should have realised what would have happened if they let their ball hit the younger kid and so should not have been playing ball in the park around other people. Now firstly they weren’t, apparently, breaking any park rules by playing ball, so no problem there. But secondly, how is a 9 ye old and an 11 year old meant to know about an extremely rare condition that affects a tiny fraction of the population? How are they meant to have known that a ball in the chest, at the right pace and the right angle, might stop someone’s heart from beating? I say they couldn’t. I didn’t know anything about it until reading about this case. I’m pretty sure that goes for the rest of the population as well. I wonder if the young kids parents knew about it either, until it was too late at least? But it is the Judge’s comments that really got me, as if it was common knowledge and the kids were knowingly and recklessly endangering other people in the park. All this serves to do, I feel sure, is make sure that playing catch in the park with your mates will now be outlawed throughout Japan, another nail in the coffin of childhood innocence and fun (although I feel sure it won’t stop wanker golfers hitting their silly little balls all over the show with blatant disregard to signs telling them not to).
From now on, I reckon, playing catch will be something that kids can only do under the auspices of a controlled school atmosphere and strict supervision that, as usual for Japan, takes all the fun out of it and destroys the whole concept of the playing for the love of the game. And then what happens if the same thing happens on the school practice field? Every year, it seems there are reports of a kid at so-and-so junior high school who collapses, or worse, through heat exhaustion and dehydration as their sadistic baseball coach has been making them run and run in the heat (and humidity) of a midday in August. It’s all to do with ideas like ‘chinonijimu yo na doryokuwo suru’ which can mean, for example, to practice so hard you piss blood. Now is that, I wonder, really a healthy way to approach sports for an 11-year-old junior high school kid? Again I think not as, at that sort of age, sports should be about enjoying yourself and having a laugh with your mates. Practice, yes; play against other schools, yes; be driven so hard by the coach that you pass out and are then admonished for doing so, no thanks.
But that is the culture of after school club activities in Japan, everyone does them and everyone does them everyday. I may have written this little anecdote before, but if I have, tough. I remember I used to teach a group of junior high school kids on a Wednesday evening, three kids, two girls and a boy, very nice, quiet as they usually are that age but more expressive as they came out of themselves a bit. Anyway, late one august we had a lesson and I remarked to one of the girls that she must be sad that the summer holiday was almost over. “Oh no”, she replied, she was looking forward to getting back to school. Why? I wondered. Well, during term time the law states that kids can only go to school for a maximum of six days a week, and at state schools only six days every other week. But, in holidays there is no such law as the law says the students should be on holiday. The law doesn’t, however, account for ‘voluntary’ attendance and club activities which was such that the girl was going to school every single day of the seven days in the week. Mad. But madder still was the teacher that turned up every day and demanded their attendance. Getting back to regular school, it would seem, meant the girl got a day off! Some holiday...
The girl was in the school band and there was a big competition in early September so all members had to spend all of their holiday practicing. If they didn’t they might not get a place in the band (pretty bad) or even might let the school down (infinitely worse). So that was it, for their entire holiday. And no one, except perhaps the kids, seemed to mind, not their parents, not the teacher, not the management of the school and not the organisers of the band competition, who just as easily have arranged the competition for later in the year. Mad, the lot of them. But they are not, I reckon, likely to foster a spirit of love and devotion to music, or any of the other activities they do, by flogging the kids to death. Far from it, but maybe it’s a cultural thing.
Tuesday, 8 March 2005
Right, let’s give it another try and hope the bloody thing doesn’t delete my outpourings once again.
How to be a parent #2
Yes, that’s right, not only one but two opportunities for the good people of Kawaguchi to impart knowledge so yours truly can attempt to understand what is required to be a parent in the modern age. And, to be perfectly honest with you, after my two lessons I am pretty confident that I have got it cracked – as long as being a parent involves holding and bathing a baby, and not too much else.
Saturday’s lesson kicked off with a video. This would have been a diverting half hour had it not been for the fact that it was exactly the same video we watched last week at the hospital. You’d have thought someone would have told them this, but no. Although to be fair, this week was at the local health centre whilst the week before had been a meet and greet at the actual hospital, but even so you’d have thought they might have liased a bit. Also, at this week’s instructional, there were a lot more people there, many of whom I hadn’t seen at the session last week and so they hadn’t been exposed to the sight of a middle aged Japanese bloke hitting a small toy drum on his long suffering wife’s abdomen before shouting loudly “moshi moshi... papa desu yo” at his yet unborn. But as explained last week this is fundamental stuff, apparently, so it must be done. Personally I could sit there smugly – ‘ha, been there done that’, thought I, and a lot more useful stuff I have passed on than “hello, it’s your father speaking’. [Disappointing on the suggestions in the comments section, by the way, only one from (I think) my father on his favourite subject – any more out there?]
Next we had a lecture from doctor who told crap jokes. I know he told crap jokes as he was from Osaka (and it wasn’t just that he was from Osaka, I could tell what he was saying for most of his speech, and not only did I understand one joke, he also asked me a direct question, which I answered in an appropriate manner (ok, the question was basically ‘and I assume you can’t read Japanese?’ when talking about baby books, but I answered with a quizzically raised eyebrow and a slight nod. Oh yeah, we bonded)). Anyway, you can always spot a person from Osaka as they always make bad jokes apparently – the jokers of Japan, a bit like the way that all Scousers are funny in the UK. The Japanese are well into their regional and national stereotypes and this is a great example. Another is the fact that it is impossible to understand the accent of anyone not born in Tokyo. Ever. Except someone from Osaka who is telling a joke. If an Osakan happened to remark to a Tokyoite that the weather was clement this afternoon, the Tokyoite would not understand, but if the Osakan made a joke of it, tears of laughter would roll. (Yes, yes, I know, I am stereotyping as well, point taken).
Anyway this doctor chappie was a good sort though I would have been able to understand a lot more except he spoke at 845,000 words per minute (I counted), though he could have cut out the jokes, spoken slower and then he might actually have finished within his allotted hour. But I liked him as when he came in he held up a yellow pamphlet that the health centre had prepared and said, in a few more words, ‘this is a load of old nonsense, I’m going to tell you how it really is’. Nice. His version of how it really was was basically a talk on all the nasty diseases and illnesses babies can get, which it seems is a lot, and then which books to read (the baby book by Sears, apparently) and those not to (Dr Spock is a real no-no these days, by all accounts), and then to take the piss out of the foreigner for not being able to read – but as luck would have it, allegedly there are now books with English words in them that I might peruse. Glad he told me that one...
Then it was upstairs for the practical.
But before we were to be let loose with the real (plastic, oddly weighted) thing, first, as last week, we had to introduce ourselves to the assembled. Once again I prepared myself for the sorry my Japanese is so shit speech, but lucky this time the assistant/demonstrator lady (the smiliest women in Japan (and no, I’m not being facetious, she really was)) told us exactly what we had to say, which was – what’s your name, and your partner’s, where do you live, when’s it due, what hospital do you use and what one thing do you want to do with the baby after it is born? Now even my woeful attempts at the language were up to this level, so I was on relatively safe ground. I’ll admit that I had trouble with the ‘where will the baby be born’ as I have always known it, Kafka-esquely, as ‘the hospital’ but it has a name as well (Saiseikai Kawaguchi Sougou Byoin, if you are at all interested – and yes, I just had to ask again, for the second time in two days).
Then it was onto the real meat of the afternoon. By the way it had been built up, since last august at least, I had come to think of the ‘bathing the baby’ experience as the most fundamental aspect of bringing a new life into this world. And how right I was. Support, it seems, is the most important thing to remember. Not support from the spouse or, perhaps the England rugby team (who, let’s face it, need all the help they can get), no support the baby’s head at all times. Check. Next most important thing to remember, when bathing a baby, is that you must lay a cloth over the baby, from neck to feet, whilst the baby is in the water – this will reassure the baby that it is, erm, in a bath with a cloth over its body. Failure to drape said cloth over baby will result in the baby self detonating, possibly, or even worse, splashing you with water as it kicks its legs... I have no idea, but my boss bathed his newborn without a cloth last summer and the results were not pretty.
Turning the baby is also tricky, if things are to be believed, and apparently this is something the Guru had trouble with during her parenting class (Saturday’s class was for dads to be, mums to be could come along [mainly for translation purposes in my case] but this was the opportunity for men to make fools of themselves). So when the Guru tried the turning manoeuvre in transition from front washing to back washing, she apparently managed to smack the baby’s head against the side of the bath on more than one occasion – she also, to dry the baby, held it over the bath and shook vigorously, something of a no-no again, it would seem. However yours truly managed the fiendish turning with a certain style and panache, so guess I’ll be doing the bathing come May.
Bathing is also, you must realise, a strict and potentially dangerous affair especially if the process takes too long, so there must be no more than 10 minutes from stripping the stripling to rewrapping the rascal. Why, I don’t know, but at least one wife was timing her husband with an expensive looking rolex to make sure he was within the Olympic qualifying time. Mad.
And that was about it. There was another table where you could practice changing a baby’s nappy (or diaper, for those that way inclined) but this just didn’t feel like the real thing, mainly because the one you took off was not filled with shit. This is odd as we were quite close to the Arakawa and it wouldn’t have taken five minutes for someone to wander down a fish a couple of turds out of the river for authenticity’s sake, but no-one had the necessary vision (or net, one presumes). To be honest it is quite easy to change the nappy of a three-pound plastic baby that doesn’t move, crap or make noise, I suspect the real thing might be a little harder.
And the last thing I got to do was pretend to be a woman with an enormous strap on. To make us menfolk more sympathetic to our womenfolk, we got to wear the pregnancy simulator. This consisted first of a velcro strap around the chest, I guess to compress your lungs and feel the shortness of breath that traditionally accompanies the later stages of pregnancy. Then the strap on itself, which was like a big waistcoat with a distended stomach and two large bumps for the breasts as well. This thing weighed 10 kilos (that’s 22 pounds in old money) and was an absolute bugger, especially when I laid down on the mat and tried to roll over, such as women might do in bed. Hard work would not cover it and I can say again (I think I said it before) that I am quite glad it is not me carrying the baby around for nine months.
So there we have it. Two lessons down and I am fighting fit and prepared as I’ll ever be for the baby we are going to bring into the world. Of course ‘prepared as I’ll ever be’ doesn’t actually mean very much and, unlike the plastic babies at the health centre, I am well and truly shitting myself...
How to be a parent #2
Yes, that’s right, not only one but two opportunities for the good people of Kawaguchi to impart knowledge so yours truly can attempt to understand what is required to be a parent in the modern age. And, to be perfectly honest with you, after my two lessons I am pretty confident that I have got it cracked – as long as being a parent involves holding and bathing a baby, and not too much else.
Saturday’s lesson kicked off with a video. This would have been a diverting half hour had it not been for the fact that it was exactly the same video we watched last week at the hospital. You’d have thought someone would have told them this, but no. Although to be fair, this week was at the local health centre whilst the week before had been a meet and greet at the actual hospital, but even so you’d have thought they might have liased a bit. Also, at this week’s instructional, there were a lot more people there, many of whom I hadn’t seen at the session last week and so they hadn’t been exposed to the sight of a middle aged Japanese bloke hitting a small toy drum on his long suffering wife’s abdomen before shouting loudly “moshi moshi... papa desu yo” at his yet unborn. But as explained last week this is fundamental stuff, apparently, so it must be done. Personally I could sit there smugly – ‘ha, been there done that’, thought I, and a lot more useful stuff I have passed on than “hello, it’s your father speaking’. [Disappointing on the suggestions in the comments section, by the way, only one from (I think) my father on his favourite subject – any more out there?]
Next we had a lecture from doctor who told crap jokes. I know he told crap jokes as he was from Osaka (and it wasn’t just that he was from Osaka, I could tell what he was saying for most of his speech, and not only did I understand one joke, he also asked me a direct question, which I answered in an appropriate manner (ok, the question was basically ‘and I assume you can’t read Japanese?’ when talking about baby books, but I answered with a quizzically raised eyebrow and a slight nod. Oh yeah, we bonded)). Anyway, you can always spot a person from Osaka as they always make bad jokes apparently – the jokers of Japan, a bit like the way that all Scousers are funny in the UK. The Japanese are well into their regional and national stereotypes and this is a great example. Another is the fact that it is impossible to understand the accent of anyone not born in Tokyo. Ever. Except someone from Osaka who is telling a joke. If an Osakan happened to remark to a Tokyoite that the weather was clement this afternoon, the Tokyoite would not understand, but if the Osakan made a joke of it, tears of laughter would roll. (Yes, yes, I know, I am stereotyping as well, point taken).
Anyway this doctor chappie was a good sort though I would have been able to understand a lot more except he spoke at 845,000 words per minute (I counted), though he could have cut out the jokes, spoken slower and then he might actually have finished within his allotted hour. But I liked him as when he came in he held up a yellow pamphlet that the health centre had prepared and said, in a few more words, ‘this is a load of old nonsense, I’m going to tell you how it really is’. Nice. His version of how it really was was basically a talk on all the nasty diseases and illnesses babies can get, which it seems is a lot, and then which books to read (the baby book by Sears, apparently) and those not to (Dr Spock is a real no-no these days, by all accounts), and then to take the piss out of the foreigner for not being able to read – but as luck would have it, allegedly there are now books with English words in them that I might peruse. Glad he told me that one...
Then it was upstairs for the practical.
But before we were to be let loose with the real (plastic, oddly weighted) thing, first, as last week, we had to introduce ourselves to the assembled. Once again I prepared myself for the sorry my Japanese is so shit speech, but lucky this time the assistant/demonstrator lady (the smiliest women in Japan (and no, I’m not being facetious, she really was)) told us exactly what we had to say, which was – what’s your name, and your partner’s, where do you live, when’s it due, what hospital do you use and what one thing do you want to do with the baby after it is born? Now even my woeful attempts at the language were up to this level, so I was on relatively safe ground. I’ll admit that I had trouble with the ‘where will the baby be born’ as I have always known it, Kafka-esquely, as ‘the hospital’ but it has a name as well (Saiseikai Kawaguchi Sougou Byoin, if you are at all interested – and yes, I just had to ask again, for the second time in two days).
Then it was onto the real meat of the afternoon. By the way it had been built up, since last august at least, I had come to think of the ‘bathing the baby’ experience as the most fundamental aspect of bringing a new life into this world. And how right I was. Support, it seems, is the most important thing to remember. Not support from the spouse or, perhaps the England rugby team (who, let’s face it, need all the help they can get), no support the baby’s head at all times. Check. Next most important thing to remember, when bathing a baby, is that you must lay a cloth over the baby, from neck to feet, whilst the baby is in the water – this will reassure the baby that it is, erm, in a bath with a cloth over its body. Failure to drape said cloth over baby will result in the baby self detonating, possibly, or even worse, splashing you with water as it kicks its legs... I have no idea, but my boss bathed his newborn without a cloth last summer and the results were not pretty.
Turning the baby is also tricky, if things are to be believed, and apparently this is something the Guru had trouble with during her parenting class (Saturday’s class was for dads to be, mums to be could come along [mainly for translation purposes in my case] but this was the opportunity for men to make fools of themselves). So when the Guru tried the turning manoeuvre in transition from front washing to back washing, she apparently managed to smack the baby’s head against the side of the bath on more than one occasion – she also, to dry the baby, held it over the bath and shook vigorously, something of a no-no again, it would seem. However yours truly managed the fiendish turning with a certain style and panache, so guess I’ll be doing the bathing come May.
Bathing is also, you must realise, a strict and potentially dangerous affair especially if the process takes too long, so there must be no more than 10 minutes from stripping the stripling to rewrapping the rascal. Why, I don’t know, but at least one wife was timing her husband with an expensive looking rolex to make sure he was within the Olympic qualifying time. Mad.
And that was about it. There was another table where you could practice changing a baby’s nappy (or diaper, for those that way inclined) but this just didn’t feel like the real thing, mainly because the one you took off was not filled with shit. This is odd as we were quite close to the Arakawa and it wouldn’t have taken five minutes for someone to wander down a fish a couple of turds out of the river for authenticity’s sake, but no-one had the necessary vision (or net, one presumes). To be honest it is quite easy to change the nappy of a three-pound plastic baby that doesn’t move, crap or make noise, I suspect the real thing might be a little harder.
And the last thing I got to do was pretend to be a woman with an enormous strap on. To make us menfolk more sympathetic to our womenfolk, we got to wear the pregnancy simulator. This consisted first of a velcro strap around the chest, I guess to compress your lungs and feel the shortness of breath that traditionally accompanies the later stages of pregnancy. Then the strap on itself, which was like a big waistcoat with a distended stomach and two large bumps for the breasts as well. This thing weighed 10 kilos (that’s 22 pounds in old money) and was an absolute bugger, especially when I laid down on the mat and tried to roll over, such as women might do in bed. Hard work would not cover it and I can say again (I think I said it before) that I am quite glad it is not me carrying the baby around for nine months.
So there we have it. Two lessons down and I am fighting fit and prepared as I’ll ever be for the baby we are going to bring into the world. Of course ‘prepared as I’ll ever be’ doesn’t actually mean very much and, unlike the plastic babies at the health centre, I am well and truly shitting myself...
Monday, 7 March 2005
f*ck
f*cking computer with its f*cking touch pad instead of a mouse that also conveniently works as a f*cking 'back' button so when you have long, unsaved-as-you-checking-the-spelling posts it happily deletes them for you.
Grr.
Might try and rewite it all again tomorrow, am far to p*ssed off right now.
Apologies.
f*cking computer with its f*cking touch pad instead of a mouse that also conveniently works as a f*cking 'back' button so when you have long, unsaved-as-you-checking-the-spelling posts it happily deletes them for you.
Grr.
Might try and rewite it all again tomorrow, am far to p*ssed off right now.
Apologies.
Tuesday, 1 March 2005
Feeling better now, thanks for asking. So, onto the hospital...
How to be a parent
Or at least, that's what I thought Saturday's visit to the hospital was going to be all about. This had been a date in my diary for weeks. The sort of date that is right up with the 'if you forget this one your life will not be worth living, ever' sorts of things like remembering to turn up at the church on the appointed day at the correct hour. It wasn't the birth, not yet, you realise, just an introduction to the hospital and the maternity department. But it was important and I was therefore present and correct.
There were 10 couples there in total in a room in the hospital. As I've mentioned before, the hospital is jolly new and shiny, which means, as far as I can tell, the aircon system is a brand new, state of the art smart one that knows the precise setting for 'uncomfortably warm' and wants to share. Anyway the first thing we had to do was sit in small circle and introduce ourselves to everyone else and then the men had to say why they wanted to be present at the birth of their first child. Well, all the other men present had to say why they wanted to be there, unfortunately my Japanese didn't quite stretch to 'joyous outpouring of emotion' or 'this miracle of life', however my Japanese did stretch to 'hi, I'm Justin, I'm from the UK, sorry my Japanese is so shit'. To which all the other people in the circle intoned the standard response of 'ahh sugoi, nihongo jouzu desu-ne' (lit. trans. my goodness isn't his skill at the Japanese language superb! (nuanced trans. why can't these foreigners learn a bit of Japanese for a change?)).
Well, when I say 'all the men had to say why they wanted to be present at the birth of their first child' what I really meant to say was 'all the men had to say why their wives wanted them to be present at the birth of their first child' as it seemed I was the only male that wanted to go along. All the others, it appears, preferred to be out playing pachinko, or possibly golf. Not sure why this was, perhaps Japanese chaps don't feel they should be part of the whole birth thing, their job, I suppose, having been completed some 9 months previously. Or maybe they are all too squeamish, I don't know.
Anyway, next was a video. Again state of the artness prevailed here so this was no portable tv in the corner of the room, this was a tv projector thingy attached to the ceiling and a 2 metre square screen pulled down against the wall. All I could think was "wouldn't it be great to hook this up to the playstation? Imagine GT4 on this baby..." I didn't tell the guru this at the time, which I believe was a sensible policy to follow. The film was about being a man whilst your wife is pregnant and the importance, therefore, of talking to the baby whilst it is still in said wife so you can get to know it (the baby, not the wife, whom you are meant to know already).
Now I had known that this was important and thus have spoken to Fuu chan on a number of occasions, although they might possibly all have been when I was drunk. But apparently the baby can hear you very well from inside the womb and whilst it is easy to bond with the mother, they are attached after all, it difficult to bond with the father, so get speaking was the message. I have taken this to heart and the last two evenings I have had long conversations with the guru's abdomen. So far I have explained cornering techniques at speed (slow in, fast out; smooth acceleration; never brake mid-corner) and also how the superior techniques and skill levels make rugby union a far more exciting game than, say, football. Further topics penciled in include; lbw laws and a good forward defensive (shame that the Ashes is not until July, a live example is always preferable); how to make perfect roast potatoes and; a full and frank exposition on Mornington Crescent (without diagonals, I think, to begin with). Useful life skills there, I think you'll agree, but if anyone has any interesting or useful suggestions for things to talk to my unborn son about, please feel free to add them in the comments section below.
Then it was onto breathing and rubbing. These are two exceptionally important skills that a husband must bring to birth, lest his wife become unrubbed and breathless, I presume. First one, gently rub your wife's lower back. Check. Next, rub your wife's abdomen. Check (nothing to this rubbing lark). And that's it for rubbing. Hmm. Well, I now I don't want to get too big headed, but now I can consider myself a world class rubber, certainly superior in technique, I think, to the other fathers-to-be in the room.
Then came the breathing. Now breathing is, I feel, something that most people have had a fair amount of experience with and therefore would not really need help with. But of course I am wrong and should have known that from all the movies with birthing scenes in them. In those films the husband always seems to be saying something like "come on dear, breath like we did in the class" and the wife says "**** **** *** breathing! ***** ** **** ******** out of here!" so why bother? But bother we must. During the first stage of giving birth the breaths should be long and slow - suuuuteeee (in) haaaiteeee (out) repeat. This goes on for a few hours until the wife gets bored and decides to move onto the next stage. Then the breathing pattern must be he he huuuu, he he huuuu, he he huuuu etc. This stage lasts about 12 hours, according to the piece of paper with the pain graphs on it (no really - no anaesthetics in Japan, you're not a real mother if you haven't experienced the pain of natutal childbirth (wonder which man made that rule up...?)).
The third stage of breathing was the swearing stage, I won't print what was said there...
Then we went onto massages, which apparently I should be providing for the guru at every available opportunity. I didn't realise this and the guru hadn't asked, but now I am prepared and ready. But if you are going to give your good lady wife a massage when she is pregnant you must, it would appear, use lavender oil as this is a relaxant. So then the nurse that was taking the class poured the aforementioned lavender oil into the waiting hands of each chap and off we went. In the interests of decorum, thankfully, this was a trouser leg rolled up leg massage session. Also thankfully, whilst every wife had her trousers rolled up and every husband was elbow deep in lavender oil and leg massages, the nurse took polaroids of each couple. Nice one to show the kid in a few years...
And that was about it except for a quick tour of the maternity section. We got to see the toilets and showers that the husbands can use whilst the wife is doing the business. We saw the pre-giving birth waiting room. This is the one, I think for the 12 hour he he huuuu session and, as this is the longest part of the whole process, this room is the smallest and has no windows. Can't quite work that one out. Also there are two beds per room, so that there is likely to be 2 women in varying degrees of discomfort/agony at any given time. Why two? What are they going to do, discuss needlework? We didn't get to see the actual giving birth room as this is like an operating theatre, apparently, so we weren't allowed in. Last of all we saw the baby's feeding room where, for some reason, men aren't allowed to go. Again not sure why about that one, guess men aren't able to feed their newborns until 5 days after they arrive...
Today
I took the day off as the guru's 30th week kicked off today and it was back to the hospital for the check-up and scan. And the best thing was that I was allowed in to see the scan this time. And see everything I did. Wow. Now I realise what it's all about. Those little photos you see from the scans that look like grey blobs? Well, if you see everything moving in real time then suddenly all the grey blobs make sense, you can see hands, eyes, the spine and the heart pumping away and you can understand what they are. And you can see a pair of knackers totally out of proportion to the rest of the body. Cool. So everything is there and it all looks good and healthy. Fuu chan is now about 1600grams and counting. All that left was for the dispensary to issue some medicine, which they did, but not before the women lying on the bench next to me vomited all over the floor. And the guru's worried she's going to catch something off me...
How to be a parent
Or at least, that's what I thought Saturday's visit to the hospital was going to be all about. This had been a date in my diary for weeks. The sort of date that is right up with the 'if you forget this one your life will not be worth living, ever' sorts of things like remembering to turn up at the church on the appointed day at the correct hour. It wasn't the birth, not yet, you realise, just an introduction to the hospital and the maternity department. But it was important and I was therefore present and correct.
There were 10 couples there in total in a room in the hospital. As I've mentioned before, the hospital is jolly new and shiny, which means, as far as I can tell, the aircon system is a brand new, state of the art smart one that knows the precise setting for 'uncomfortably warm' and wants to share. Anyway the first thing we had to do was sit in small circle and introduce ourselves to everyone else and then the men had to say why they wanted to be present at the birth of their first child. Well, all the other men present had to say why they wanted to be there, unfortunately my Japanese didn't quite stretch to 'joyous outpouring of emotion' or 'this miracle of life', however my Japanese did stretch to 'hi, I'm Justin, I'm from the UK, sorry my Japanese is so shit'. To which all the other people in the circle intoned the standard response of 'ahh sugoi, nihongo jouzu desu-ne' (lit. trans. my goodness isn't his skill at the Japanese language superb! (nuanced trans. why can't these foreigners learn a bit of Japanese for a change?)).
Well, when I say 'all the men had to say why they wanted to be present at the birth of their first child' what I really meant to say was 'all the men had to say why their wives wanted them to be present at the birth of their first child' as it seemed I was the only male that wanted to go along. All the others, it appears, preferred to be out playing pachinko, or possibly golf. Not sure why this was, perhaps Japanese chaps don't feel they should be part of the whole birth thing, their job, I suppose, having been completed some 9 months previously. Or maybe they are all too squeamish, I don't know.
Anyway, next was a video. Again state of the artness prevailed here so this was no portable tv in the corner of the room, this was a tv projector thingy attached to the ceiling and a 2 metre square screen pulled down against the wall. All I could think was "wouldn't it be great to hook this up to the playstation? Imagine GT4 on this baby..." I didn't tell the guru this at the time, which I believe was a sensible policy to follow. The film was about being a man whilst your wife is pregnant and the importance, therefore, of talking to the baby whilst it is still in said wife so you can get to know it (the baby, not the wife, whom you are meant to know already).
Now I had known that this was important and thus have spoken to Fuu chan on a number of occasions, although they might possibly all have been when I was drunk. But apparently the baby can hear you very well from inside the womb and whilst it is easy to bond with the mother, they are attached after all, it difficult to bond with the father, so get speaking was the message. I have taken this to heart and the last two evenings I have had long conversations with the guru's abdomen. So far I have explained cornering techniques at speed (slow in, fast out; smooth acceleration; never brake mid-corner) and also how the superior techniques and skill levels make rugby union a far more exciting game than, say, football. Further topics penciled in include; lbw laws and a good forward defensive (shame that the Ashes is not until July, a live example is always preferable); how to make perfect roast potatoes and; a full and frank exposition on Mornington Crescent (without diagonals, I think, to begin with). Useful life skills there, I think you'll agree, but if anyone has any interesting or useful suggestions for things to talk to my unborn son about, please feel free to add them in the comments section below.
Then it was onto breathing and rubbing. These are two exceptionally important skills that a husband must bring to birth, lest his wife become unrubbed and breathless, I presume. First one, gently rub your wife's lower back. Check. Next, rub your wife's abdomen. Check (nothing to this rubbing lark). And that's it for rubbing. Hmm. Well, I now I don't want to get too big headed, but now I can consider myself a world class rubber, certainly superior in technique, I think, to the other fathers-to-be in the room.
Then came the breathing. Now breathing is, I feel, something that most people have had a fair amount of experience with and therefore would not really need help with. But of course I am wrong and should have known that from all the movies with birthing scenes in them. In those films the husband always seems to be saying something like "come on dear, breath like we did in the class" and the wife says "**** **** *** breathing! ***** ** **** ******** out of here!" so why bother? But bother we must. During the first stage of giving birth the breaths should be long and slow - suuuuteeee (in) haaaiteeee (out) repeat. This goes on for a few hours until the wife gets bored and decides to move onto the next stage. Then the breathing pattern must be he he huuuu, he he huuuu, he he huuuu etc. This stage lasts about 12 hours, according to the piece of paper with the pain graphs on it (no really - no anaesthetics in Japan, you're not a real mother if you haven't experienced the pain of natutal childbirth (wonder which man made that rule up...?)).
The third stage of breathing was the swearing stage, I won't print what was said there...
Then we went onto massages, which apparently I should be providing for the guru at every available opportunity. I didn't realise this and the guru hadn't asked, but now I am prepared and ready. But if you are going to give your good lady wife a massage when she is pregnant you must, it would appear, use lavender oil as this is a relaxant. So then the nurse that was taking the class poured the aforementioned lavender oil into the waiting hands of each chap and off we went. In the interests of decorum, thankfully, this was a trouser leg rolled up leg massage session. Also thankfully, whilst every wife had her trousers rolled up and every husband was elbow deep in lavender oil and leg massages, the nurse took polaroids of each couple. Nice one to show the kid in a few years...
And that was about it except for a quick tour of the maternity section. We got to see the toilets and showers that the husbands can use whilst the wife is doing the business. We saw the pre-giving birth waiting room. This is the one, I think for the 12 hour he he huuuu session and, as this is the longest part of the whole process, this room is the smallest and has no windows. Can't quite work that one out. Also there are two beds per room, so that there is likely to be 2 women in varying degrees of discomfort/agony at any given time. Why two? What are they going to do, discuss needlework? We didn't get to see the actual giving birth room as this is like an operating theatre, apparently, so we weren't allowed in. Last of all we saw the baby's feeding room where, for some reason, men aren't allowed to go. Again not sure why about that one, guess men aren't able to feed their newborns until 5 days after they arrive...
Today
I took the day off as the guru's 30th week kicked off today and it was back to the hospital for the check-up and scan. And the best thing was that I was allowed in to see the scan this time. And see everything I did. Wow. Now I realise what it's all about. Those little photos you see from the scans that look like grey blobs? Well, if you see everything moving in real time then suddenly all the grey blobs make sense, you can see hands, eyes, the spine and the heart pumping away and you can understand what they are. And you can see a pair of knackers totally out of proportion to the rest of the body. Cool. So everything is there and it all looks good and healthy. Fuu chan is now about 1600grams and counting. All that left was for the dispensary to issue some medicine, which they did, but not before the women lying on the bench next to me vomited all over the floor. And the guru's worried she's going to catch something off me...
Monday, 28 February 2005
Monday, 21 February 2005
Speech
So Saturday last weekend I was dragooned into being a judge at a local school's speech contest. This came about as my boss's Japanese wife's aunt is the head of English (possibly) at a school not too far away from Kawaguchi - the boss was asked to go, but as he lives a long way from here, which isn't a bad thing, he asked me if I wanted to get up at ten to seven on a cold winter's day off and go along to listen to junior high school girls giving speeches in English. Not particularly, was my initial response, but then the temptation of fifty quid for about 2 hours work was waved under my nose and hey presto, there I was.
The school was in a place called Kami Nakazato, which is only 4 stops into Tokyo from here so not too far away. But being a junior high school with lessons on a Saturday meant that things started early, so it was 825am that I arrived at the station to be met by one of their current native English speaking teachers, a pleasant and chatty US/Korean lady by the name of Dawn. She took me to the school in the cold and sleet, but being from Milwaukee (or possible Wisconsin - or that could be where the chap from the film Love Actually goes... I forget) she actually likes snow and sleet and perishing weather so was quite happy.
At this stage I was a little apprehensive as all the info I had was as above - go along, be a judge, get fifty quid, depart. There has to be more to it than this, was my essential frame of mind at the time. The school is a pretty grand affair, on the site there is a mixed elementary school, separate boys and girls junior high schools and a high school as well. This means a lot of students and also a lot of cash as it is a private job with, I suspect, pretty astronomical fees. But the main thing about the school is it is seriously into its God bothering. Disciples of Christ is their demonination and I think they take the religion angle quite seriously. When we arrived, all the girls were apparently in chapel, something they have to do everyday. Then Dawn mentioned the school motto, which was 'Love God and Smite the Unbeliever' or possibly something very like it. Hmm. And then, when the Principal came to say hello he was carrying a bible and a prayer book...
At this point I was beginning to have some doubts about the whole affair. Was I going to have to sit through dozens of speeches extolling the virtues of christianity, god, angels and the like? Heavens above I hoped not. It wasn't helped when I met my fellow judge, a teacher from the boys school by the name of Karen, whose MA dissertation at Portsmouth uni had been about religious freedom in Hampshire after the French Revolution (where apparently a lot of exiled clergy pitched up after Robspierre decided he didn't want them around anymore, or something).
But then they handed us the scoring sheets and things got a little clearer. There were two groups to judge, 10 second years and 10 third years - meaning that the speeches would last about 45 minutes at most. Not too bad. And, interestingly, they were't really speeches, they were recitals. This was because junior high school students in Japan do not have the creative ability to think for themselves and come up with a speech - this is mainly because any semblance of originality has been beaten out of them by this time and group think has fully taken over, so originality might mean individualism, which cannot be allowed to happen. So the girls were given a list of possible speeches to recite, one of which they then had to learn off by heart. But more of that later.
At 9am, after chapel was over, we made our way to the hall for the speeches. Now I was expecting the 20 speech givers to be there, plus possibly some dutiful parents, but when we entered the hall the entire school was there to watch! And the hall was a big one, two tiered and a proper round hall shape (a bit like the Budokan, but smaller of course), so there must have been about a thousand girls in their to watch the speech givers. Talk about pressure, I felt nervous just watching them. The hall was pretty new looking, big and had a very impressive full sized pipe organ above the stage. As I mentioned, this school has a bit of cash stashed away and is getting more, apparently, as whilst school rolls are falling across Japan with the declining birth rate, this place has a waiting list and is therefore opening more classes every year.
Anyway, of the list of available speeches, the 10 second year students had chosen a grand total of two. These were "barrier-free" and "favour for favour", whilst the third year's had three "Stevie Wonder", "A law of life" and (my personal favourite) "Give me liberty or give me death" (which wasn't about gun control or the Dead Kennedy's and the US punk scene in the 1980's rather it was about some bloke who made a speech in the American war of independence - I can't remember his name, perhaps I should have paid attention to the speeches). Earlier I said 'interestingly' that these were recitals, but of course, the more you hear the speeches, the less interesting they become. As you can probably imagine, the barrier-free one was about a bloke in a wheel chair, although on the list of speeches a typo had turned it into barrie-free, which I hoped might be some polemic about a world without Peter Pan, but alas it was not to be.
Judging these was difficult. The kids had been practicing for weeks with Dawn (hence her not being a judge) and the other teachers, so they were pretty good. We had to grade the speakers on three criteria: presentation (smooth memory); pronunciation and; intonation, gesture and something else I can't remember. As they had practicing for ages, the first criteria was redundant so it was down to the other two, and as the pronunciation was all pretty similar, it pretty much came down to the last category. And, of course, they were all really good, very good indeed. I remember studying French at school and doubt I could have done the same at that age - but then again one has to wonder if the girls had any idea what they were actually saying, sadly I think understanding was limited as you could tell from the occasional unnatural pause (that they all made at the same place) that it really was robotic. But there had to be a winner, indeed a second and third as well, for each year group and through the jottings and tottings of us judges, these were found.
Then came the surprise. The judges had to go onto the stage, give a congratulatory speech and then hand over the loot. Now I'm quite used to public speaking, but having a thousand or so pairs of eyes from an audience of junior high school girls focused upon you is quite disconcerting, giving a speech in your own language difficult enough, so hats off to the contestants. Naturally all the contestants that won were ever so happy and you could see that they were going to go home and be exceptionally proud of their achievments, and so they should. One thing that especially cheered me was the second year winner. When I announced her name there was the Japanese equivalent of astonishment, as if she were not meant to win. Not only did this come as a surprise to her, but the rest of the school as well. I wonder if anyone made any money betting on her with long odds...?
And that was it. We were thanked for our time, given a cup of tea, signed a chit for the 10,000yen and released back into the sleet by about 1045. They've asked me to go back in July for the high school contest where the contestants actually make up their own speeches - could be interesting...
So Saturday last weekend I was dragooned into being a judge at a local school's speech contest. This came about as my boss's Japanese wife's aunt is the head of English (possibly) at a school not too far away from Kawaguchi - the boss was asked to go, but as he lives a long way from here, which isn't a bad thing, he asked me if I wanted to get up at ten to seven on a cold winter's day off and go along to listen to junior high school girls giving speeches in English. Not particularly, was my initial response, but then the temptation of fifty quid for about 2 hours work was waved under my nose and hey presto, there I was.
The school was in a place called Kami Nakazato, which is only 4 stops into Tokyo from here so not too far away. But being a junior high school with lessons on a Saturday meant that things started early, so it was 825am that I arrived at the station to be met by one of their current native English speaking teachers, a pleasant and chatty US/Korean lady by the name of Dawn. She took me to the school in the cold and sleet, but being from Milwaukee (or possible Wisconsin - or that could be where the chap from the film Love Actually goes... I forget) she actually likes snow and sleet and perishing weather so was quite happy.
At this stage I was a little apprehensive as all the info I had was as above - go along, be a judge, get fifty quid, depart. There has to be more to it than this, was my essential frame of mind at the time. The school is a pretty grand affair, on the site there is a mixed elementary school, separate boys and girls junior high schools and a high school as well. This means a lot of students and also a lot of cash as it is a private job with, I suspect, pretty astronomical fees. But the main thing about the school is it is seriously into its God bothering. Disciples of Christ is their demonination and I think they take the religion angle quite seriously. When we arrived, all the girls were apparently in chapel, something they have to do everyday. Then Dawn mentioned the school motto, which was 'Love God and Smite the Unbeliever' or possibly something very like it. Hmm. And then, when the Principal came to say hello he was carrying a bible and a prayer book...
At this point I was beginning to have some doubts about the whole affair. Was I going to have to sit through dozens of speeches extolling the virtues of christianity, god, angels and the like? Heavens above I hoped not. It wasn't helped when I met my fellow judge, a teacher from the boys school by the name of Karen, whose MA dissertation at Portsmouth uni had been about religious freedom in Hampshire after the French Revolution (where apparently a lot of exiled clergy pitched up after Robspierre decided he didn't want them around anymore, or something).
But then they handed us the scoring sheets and things got a little clearer. There were two groups to judge, 10 second years and 10 third years - meaning that the speeches would last about 45 minutes at most. Not too bad. And, interestingly, they were't really speeches, they were recitals. This was because junior high school students in Japan do not have the creative ability to think for themselves and come up with a speech - this is mainly because any semblance of originality has been beaten out of them by this time and group think has fully taken over, so originality might mean individualism, which cannot be allowed to happen. So the girls were given a list of possible speeches to recite, one of which they then had to learn off by heart. But more of that later.
At 9am, after chapel was over, we made our way to the hall for the speeches. Now I was expecting the 20 speech givers to be there, plus possibly some dutiful parents, but when we entered the hall the entire school was there to watch! And the hall was a big one, two tiered and a proper round hall shape (a bit like the Budokan, but smaller of course), so there must have been about a thousand girls in their to watch the speech givers. Talk about pressure, I felt nervous just watching them. The hall was pretty new looking, big and had a very impressive full sized pipe organ above the stage. As I mentioned, this school has a bit of cash stashed away and is getting more, apparently, as whilst school rolls are falling across Japan with the declining birth rate, this place has a waiting list and is therefore opening more classes every year.
Anyway, of the list of available speeches, the 10 second year students had chosen a grand total of two. These were "barrier-free" and "favour for favour", whilst the third year's had three "Stevie Wonder", "A law of life" and (my personal favourite) "Give me liberty or give me death" (which wasn't about gun control or the Dead Kennedy's and the US punk scene in the 1980's rather it was about some bloke who made a speech in the American war of independence - I can't remember his name, perhaps I should have paid attention to the speeches). Earlier I said 'interestingly' that these were recitals, but of course, the more you hear the speeches, the less interesting they become. As you can probably imagine, the barrier-free one was about a bloke in a wheel chair, although on the list of speeches a typo had turned it into barrie-free, which I hoped might be some polemic about a world without Peter Pan, but alas it was not to be.
Judging these was difficult. The kids had been practicing for weeks with Dawn (hence her not being a judge) and the other teachers, so they were pretty good. We had to grade the speakers on three criteria: presentation (smooth memory); pronunciation and; intonation, gesture and something else I can't remember. As they had practicing for ages, the first criteria was redundant so it was down to the other two, and as the pronunciation was all pretty similar, it pretty much came down to the last category. And, of course, they were all really good, very good indeed. I remember studying French at school and doubt I could have done the same at that age - but then again one has to wonder if the girls had any idea what they were actually saying, sadly I think understanding was limited as you could tell from the occasional unnatural pause (that they all made at the same place) that it really was robotic. But there had to be a winner, indeed a second and third as well, for each year group and through the jottings and tottings of us judges, these were found.
Then came the surprise. The judges had to go onto the stage, give a congratulatory speech and then hand over the loot. Now I'm quite used to public speaking, but having a thousand or so pairs of eyes from an audience of junior high school girls focused upon you is quite disconcerting, giving a speech in your own language difficult enough, so hats off to the contestants. Naturally all the contestants that won were ever so happy and you could see that they were going to go home and be exceptionally proud of their achievments, and so they should. One thing that especially cheered me was the second year winner. When I announced her name there was the Japanese equivalent of astonishment, as if she were not meant to win. Not only did this come as a surprise to her, but the rest of the school as well. I wonder if anyone made any money betting on her with long odds...?
And that was it. We were thanked for our time, given a cup of tea, signed a chit for the 10,000yen and released back into the sleet by about 1045. They've asked me to go back in July for the high school contest where the contestants actually make up their own speeches - could be interesting...
Thursday, 17 February 2005
Tuesday, 15 February 2005
Onsens in hot water (again)
And other excellent cliches, if I can think of them. If you recall, I wrote somewhere before about Onsen owners in Nagano (or perhaps Niigata, I can't remember) who firstly were using tap water in their authentic onsens (not good) and then another bunch who were found to be adding bath salts to theirs to make them smell better (possibly even worse - I seem to remember that the expression "just don't fuck with their baths" was in that post, possibly to try to convey the importance of the issue). Anyway, more fun was to be had last weekend.
I first noticed something was amiss by the helicopter circling over the Arakawa at about 8pm on Thursday evening. We get quite a few (for Japan) helicopters passing our apartment, I think the river must be used a kind of route marker for the military to go around Tokyo, but these are usually during daylight hours at the weekend. So to see a chopper hovering and slowly circling at night was a little odd. The guru confirmed this on my getting home, saying it had been there all afternoon and was making a bloody racket. What could it be, we wondered?
Well, apparently over on the Tokyo side of the river in Kita-ku (lit. trans. North Borough (hugely original, that name)) a company had been sinking a 1,800meter hole in the ground to find a hot spring from which they could then build an onsen. What they failed to appreciate, however, was that until 1972 natural gas was extracted nearby and that there might be some small pockets of gas still around.
"Er..." they said, as a Tokyo monitoring centre found increasing levels of methane in Setagaya-ku (lit. trans. Outskirts-rice-field-in-the-valley Borough (yeah right))...
"Oops..." they opined as a mixture of water and methane shot 10 metres into the air, breaking the overhead gantry lighting...
"Fuck..." they added as the water and methane mixture swiftly expanded and was ignited by the broken lighting into a 20 metre tower of flame...
"...and here we go again", said the fire department, as they were called in to deal with the blaze. This took them nearly 24 hours to do, such was the ferocity of the fire and the fact that the methane was being pushed out of the hole by all this pressurised water. Apparently it took 4.5 tons of muddy water and 2000 sandbags to bring everything under control, though why muddy water was necessary, rather than, say, clean water, I am not sure. I am also not sure how to get a terrible pun involving the bluesman Muddy Waters into that sentence. I will keep trying, but fear the moment has passed.
One has to ask, of course, quite why the metropolitan government allowed the company to sink such a deep hole into what was formerly known as the Koto Gas Field, especially when the Environment Ministry (slogan: Concrete painted green is just like Real Grass) said something along the lines of, oh yes, this has happened before in Tokyo, happens all the time in fact. Doh. And, indeed, one has to wonder quite why anyone would want to build an onsen in Kita-ku. There are already 59 hot spring sources in Tokyo's 23 ku's, so why bother with another. And, I mean, onsens, well, they are basically places to go out of the city where there is a bit of nature the Environmental ministry hasn't got its hands on yet. You know, a cold beer in a hot outside bath with views over the snow covered hills, that sort of thing, not wander down the street with a one-cup sake, turn left at the car park and have a bath there, what's the point? Ah, but I'm not Japanese so I can't appreciate the spare aesthetic beauty of an onsen in an industrial estate.
Meat me at Yoshinoya
Again last year I wrote about Yoshinoya and the problems they were encountering by the banning of American beef imports due to BSE in US cattle. Luckily, this time I can remember where, it's here, so you can relive the old days if you feel the urge. Well, this week Yoshinoya decided, in it's infinite wisdom, that whilst the the beef ban is still in place, it may as well use up it's last stocks of meat, so decided to sell gyudon in a number of it's restaurants across Japan. And so, even though the beef maybe contaminated, long queues were seen outside all the stores giving this once in a lifetime opportunity. Weird, as people were ecstatic to be given the chance to eat gyudon with American beef - usually it is only Japanese produce that creates such a rush (but of course Japanese beef is far too good be used in gyudon, whilst Aussie beef is too stringy and British beef, well, that's were BSE came from. Actually, on this point, the first case of Variant CJD was either reported, or the first person died from it, in Japan this week. The reason why the man got the disease was that he spent a month in the UK in about 1989. That's right, of all the beef the guy has eaten all through his life, it was one month in the UK that killed (or will kill) him. In a no way knee-jerk reaction, the Japanese Medical folks announced they will not accept blood donations from anyone that has spent a month or more in the UK in the last 100 years (or somesuch time period). Indeed I wonder if I will even be allowed into the hospital when the guru gives birth...)
Good news and Congratulations
To my colleague Helen and her husband Yosh as Helen gave birth to a healthy, boucing baby girl on Saturday night. Mother and baby are doing well, the baby was three thousand something grams and fifty something centimetres long (or tall). Good luck to all.
And as for the rugby
... I reckon Sue Mott has got it about right.
And other excellent cliches, if I can think of them. If you recall, I wrote somewhere before about Onsen owners in Nagano (or perhaps Niigata, I can't remember) who firstly were using tap water in their authentic onsens (not good) and then another bunch who were found to be adding bath salts to theirs to make them smell better (possibly even worse - I seem to remember that the expression "just don't fuck with their baths" was in that post, possibly to try to convey the importance of the issue). Anyway, more fun was to be had last weekend.
I first noticed something was amiss by the helicopter circling over the Arakawa at about 8pm on Thursday evening. We get quite a few (for Japan) helicopters passing our apartment, I think the river must be used a kind of route marker for the military to go around Tokyo, but these are usually during daylight hours at the weekend. So to see a chopper hovering and slowly circling at night was a little odd. The guru confirmed this on my getting home, saying it had been there all afternoon and was making a bloody racket. What could it be, we wondered?
Well, apparently over on the Tokyo side of the river in Kita-ku (lit. trans. North Borough (hugely original, that name)) a company had been sinking a 1,800meter hole in the ground to find a hot spring from which they could then build an onsen. What they failed to appreciate, however, was that until 1972 natural gas was extracted nearby and that there might be some small pockets of gas still around.
"Er..." they said, as a Tokyo monitoring centre found increasing levels of methane in Setagaya-ku (lit. trans. Outskirts-rice-field-in-the-valley Borough (yeah right))...
"Oops..." they opined as a mixture of water and methane shot 10 metres into the air, breaking the overhead gantry lighting...
"Fuck..." they added as the water and methane mixture swiftly expanded and was ignited by the broken lighting into a 20 metre tower of flame...
"...and here we go again", said the fire department, as they were called in to deal with the blaze. This took them nearly 24 hours to do, such was the ferocity of the fire and the fact that the methane was being pushed out of the hole by all this pressurised water. Apparently it took 4.5 tons of muddy water and 2000 sandbags to bring everything under control, though why muddy water was necessary, rather than, say, clean water, I am not sure. I am also not sure how to get a terrible pun involving the bluesman Muddy Waters into that sentence. I will keep trying, but fear the moment has passed.
One has to ask, of course, quite why the metropolitan government allowed the company to sink such a deep hole into what was formerly known as the Koto Gas Field, especially when the Environment Ministry (slogan: Concrete painted green is just like Real Grass) said something along the lines of, oh yes, this has happened before in Tokyo, happens all the time in fact. Doh. And, indeed, one has to wonder quite why anyone would want to build an onsen in Kita-ku. There are already 59 hot spring sources in Tokyo's 23 ku's, so why bother with another. And, I mean, onsens, well, they are basically places to go out of the city where there is a bit of nature the Environmental ministry hasn't got its hands on yet. You know, a cold beer in a hot outside bath with views over the snow covered hills, that sort of thing, not wander down the street with a one-cup sake, turn left at the car park and have a bath there, what's the point? Ah, but I'm not Japanese so I can't appreciate the spare aesthetic beauty of an onsen in an industrial estate.
Meat me at Yoshinoya
Again last year I wrote about Yoshinoya and the problems they were encountering by the banning of American beef imports due to BSE in US cattle. Luckily, this time I can remember where, it's here, so you can relive the old days if you feel the urge. Well, this week Yoshinoya decided, in it's infinite wisdom, that whilst the the beef ban is still in place, it may as well use up it's last stocks of meat, so decided to sell gyudon in a number of it's restaurants across Japan. And so, even though the beef maybe contaminated, long queues were seen outside all the stores giving this once in a lifetime opportunity. Weird, as people were ecstatic to be given the chance to eat gyudon with American beef - usually it is only Japanese produce that creates such a rush (but of course Japanese beef is far too good be used in gyudon, whilst Aussie beef is too stringy and British beef, well, that's were BSE came from. Actually, on this point, the first case of Variant CJD was either reported, or the first person died from it, in Japan this week. The reason why the man got the disease was that he spent a month in the UK in about 1989. That's right, of all the beef the guy has eaten all through his life, it was one month in the UK that killed (or will kill) him. In a no way knee-jerk reaction, the Japanese Medical folks announced they will not accept blood donations from anyone that has spent a month or more in the UK in the last 100 years (or somesuch time period). Indeed I wonder if I will even be allowed into the hospital when the guru gives birth...)
Good news and Congratulations
To my colleague Helen and her husband Yosh as Helen gave birth to a healthy, boucing baby girl on Saturday night. Mother and baby are doing well, the baby was three thousand something grams and fifty something centimetres long (or tall). Good luck to all.
And as for the rugby
... I reckon Sue Mott has got it about right.
Monday, 7 February 2005
Crime waves
Once upon a while I wrote about the Japanese love of shutters. I would try to link to it, but I can't remember where/when it was and I can't be bothered to go all through the posts to find where, but trust me, I did. Anyway, the gist of that post was that all Japanese houses, and a good few apartments, have rolling steel shutters that cover all the windows and patio (not that they have patios) doors and that I really don't understand why. The usual response is because of safety, though I suspect it is a deep psychological need to hide themselves away from the outside world - very big on the inside versus the outside (honne vs tatemae) the Japanese, which western often can't get the hang of, mostly as we call it being two faced.
I digress. I am now in the process of revising my opinions - I'm into double loop reasoning (actually I'm not at all, I just read about it in a text book and it seemed a good justification for changing my mind). Last week, or maybe the week before, a game of high school baseball was carrying on in a place called Hasuda in Saitama pref, about 30 mins north of Kawaguchi by train. One chap hit a ball so far it flew out of the diamond and into a drainage ditch abutting the fields and an outfielder chap gave chase. Not only did the chap find the baseball, he also found about 15 million yen in cash. That's about 75,000 quid, not a bad haul. Naturally being a good citizen, he took it straight to the police and then crossed his fingers as if no one claimed the cash, it would be his. Finding large amounts of cash in shopping bags is quite a common occurence here in Japan and one of the other reasons he took the cash straight to the police is that usually these hauls of cash are the ill gotten gains of the yakuza and so if you are found spending it the wake up call is likely to short, sharp and no doubt painful.
What makes the story more odd is that the following day is that another 3 million, or thereabouts, was found in the same ditch a little further away. What I love about this find is that it was spotted by a retired gentleman out walking his dog and he did what he thought he should by informing the police but not touching it himself - disturbing the evidence or somesuch - again no doubt in the anticipation of collecting the cash on it unclaimed deadline. But, as he hadn't touched it and local bobby fished it out of the culvert, the official finder of the cash was the bobby, not the chap. My was he pissed off.
So far so normal for the police of Hasuda. But in an amazing show of swift action and zealousness the local constabulary arrested a 25 year old woman on suspicion of theft. Well, they say suspicion but she has admitted robbing her ex-boyfriend, but that isn't good enough just yet. Anyway, what happened was that she was dating a chap in Ageo, not too far from Hasuda but they split up and so to teach him a lesson, she colluded with a couple of friends to steal some cash from the ex. So, they broke into his apartment and "alledgedly stole about 60 million yen from a suitcase in the man's closet". So let's get this straight, not only did the ex boyfriend have about three hundred thousand pounds in his apartment, which seems crazy enough to me, but it was kept not in a safe but in a suitcase in his cupboard? Right...
But he is not the only one. Every week, it seems, you can read in the paper that such-and-such a house was broken into over the weekend and x hundred million yen were stolen whilst the family was away skiing. And this is why, in a convoluted way, Japanese have horrible iron shutters disfiguring their houses - they're all too f*cking stupid to use banks.
I mean, I can understand having a few hundred quid locked in a safe somewhere, just in case you happen to have to buy a tv before the cup final because your kid just put his foot through the old one, but why on earth would you need to have a quarter of a million quid in your house? 'Oh we don't trust the banks' is one reason often trotted out and I can understand this to an extent, but then again perhaps they should ask the govt to stop bailing out failing banks so that some bankrupt and therefore the banking sector gets stronger as a result. No wonder the average household thinks Japan is getting a more dangerous place and that crime is on the increase - I'd be paranoid if I had that much cash in my home, very paranoid indeed. And I'm not even sure steel shutters would be much deterrent to a decent thief. And talking of thieves, is anyone surprised burglary is on the increase? I'm not, not with such rich pickings to be had in the average punters' house, actually I'm suprised there isn't a crime epidemic sweeping the land as we speak...
Talking of robbery
The guru and I went out baby shopping at the weekend. Not that we went out to shop for a baby, we're getting one of those in May, hopefully, no we went out to buy things for the baby that we are going to get.
Buying stuff for a baby is important and therefore you have to get the right things and so it is a big decision what you buy. Therefore if the two big purveyors of puchchairs have 837 models in the 2005 range, you must assess the pros and cons of each and every model before even thinking about buying. Then you must cross reference these with last year's road tested models to see if the 2005 range is better than 2004 (and, if possible (which you might think it is not but your wife will have other ideas) cross reference models over the last five years for wear and tear factors). Then you must assess all of the colour options available. Then you must at least appear to listen to the opinions of your husband. Then you must reconsider all the options again as the QX-501 (2005) you have finally decided upon doesn't come burnt sienna (only black with mustard yellow), but the QXa- 501 (2005) does come in burnt sienna but doesn't have the moulded grips whilst the QX-501 (2004) does come in burnt sienna and does have the grips but only scored 99.98 in the Which? Magazine Supermarket/Bus Manoeuverability tests and, well, you will be spending a lot of time in supermarkets so this is important etc etc etc
So we didn't buy a pushchair, too many variables at play. But we did get some other stuff like a high chair, some toys, a carrying sling thing that may well be called a papousse, as Brian reminded me today, and a bum bag for putting baby stuff into, and we got it all from a sort of baby show thing organised by one of the big baby stuff makers in Japan. The bit about robbery is that they claimed it would be a massive discount affair and that the average punter could save thousands. So the high chairs were all about 17,000 yen, reduced form 55-60,000 yen. Now I thought 'wow, huge savings' but the guru, in her clever and knowing way, poo-pooed my enthusiasm by saying that on the 'net they are always this price and no-one ever pays full price'. Makes sense, but that means either the company are not making any money at all (not likely, let's face it) or their rrp's are just complete bollocks - which is a lot more going for it, I reckon.
So we huffed and puffed around this big hall with about a million other couples and babies/young children (declining birth rate in Japan? Not on the evidence of Saturday afternoon) and amazingly didn't have an arguement, which I thought was pretty good going. But then again I have realised my role in the whole baby thing is, at the moment at least, to follow the guru around and say 'yes dear' to any question that she asks.
Once upon a while I wrote about the Japanese love of shutters. I would try to link to it, but I can't remember where/when it was and I can't be bothered to go all through the posts to find where, but trust me, I did. Anyway, the gist of that post was that all Japanese houses, and a good few apartments, have rolling steel shutters that cover all the windows and patio (not that they have patios) doors and that I really don't understand why. The usual response is because of safety, though I suspect it is a deep psychological need to hide themselves away from the outside world - very big on the inside versus the outside (honne vs tatemae) the Japanese, which western often can't get the hang of, mostly as we call it being two faced.
I digress. I am now in the process of revising my opinions - I'm into double loop reasoning (actually I'm not at all, I just read about it in a text book and it seemed a good justification for changing my mind). Last week, or maybe the week before, a game of high school baseball was carrying on in a place called Hasuda in Saitama pref, about 30 mins north of Kawaguchi by train. One chap hit a ball so far it flew out of the diamond and into a drainage ditch abutting the fields and an outfielder chap gave chase. Not only did the chap find the baseball, he also found about 15 million yen in cash. That's about 75,000 quid, not a bad haul. Naturally being a good citizen, he took it straight to the police and then crossed his fingers as if no one claimed the cash, it would be his. Finding large amounts of cash in shopping bags is quite a common occurence here in Japan and one of the other reasons he took the cash straight to the police is that usually these hauls of cash are the ill gotten gains of the yakuza and so if you are found spending it the wake up call is likely to short, sharp and no doubt painful.
What makes the story more odd is that the following day is that another 3 million, or thereabouts, was found in the same ditch a little further away. What I love about this find is that it was spotted by a retired gentleman out walking his dog and he did what he thought he should by informing the police but not touching it himself - disturbing the evidence or somesuch - again no doubt in the anticipation of collecting the cash on it unclaimed deadline. But, as he hadn't touched it and local bobby fished it out of the culvert, the official finder of the cash was the bobby, not the chap. My was he pissed off.
So far so normal for the police of Hasuda. But in an amazing show of swift action and zealousness the local constabulary arrested a 25 year old woman on suspicion of theft. Well, they say suspicion but she has admitted robbing her ex-boyfriend, but that isn't good enough just yet. Anyway, what happened was that she was dating a chap in Ageo, not too far from Hasuda but they split up and so to teach him a lesson, she colluded with a couple of friends to steal some cash from the ex. So, they broke into his apartment and "alledgedly stole about 60 million yen from a suitcase in the man's closet". So let's get this straight, not only did the ex boyfriend have about three hundred thousand pounds in his apartment, which seems crazy enough to me, but it was kept not in a safe but in a suitcase in his cupboard? Right...
But he is not the only one. Every week, it seems, you can read in the paper that such-and-such a house was broken into over the weekend and x hundred million yen were stolen whilst the family was away skiing. And this is why, in a convoluted way, Japanese have horrible iron shutters disfiguring their houses - they're all too f*cking stupid to use banks.
I mean, I can understand having a few hundred quid locked in a safe somewhere, just in case you happen to have to buy a tv before the cup final because your kid just put his foot through the old one, but why on earth would you need to have a quarter of a million quid in your house? 'Oh we don't trust the banks' is one reason often trotted out and I can understand this to an extent, but then again perhaps they should ask the govt to stop bailing out failing banks so that some bankrupt and therefore the banking sector gets stronger as a result. No wonder the average household thinks Japan is getting a more dangerous place and that crime is on the increase - I'd be paranoid if I had that much cash in my home, very paranoid indeed. And I'm not even sure steel shutters would be much deterrent to a decent thief. And talking of thieves, is anyone surprised burglary is on the increase? I'm not, not with such rich pickings to be had in the average punters' house, actually I'm suprised there isn't a crime epidemic sweeping the land as we speak...
Talking of robbery
The guru and I went out baby shopping at the weekend. Not that we went out to shop for a baby, we're getting one of those in May, hopefully, no we went out to buy things for the baby that we are going to get.
Buying stuff for a baby is important and therefore you have to get the right things and so it is a big decision what you buy. Therefore if the two big purveyors of puchchairs have 837 models in the 2005 range, you must assess the pros and cons of each and every model before even thinking about buying. Then you must cross reference these with last year's road tested models to see if the 2005 range is better than 2004 (and, if possible (which you might think it is not but your wife will have other ideas) cross reference models over the last five years for wear and tear factors). Then you must assess all of the colour options available. Then you must at least appear to listen to the opinions of your husband. Then you must reconsider all the options again as the QX-501 (2005) you have finally decided upon doesn't come burnt sienna (only black with mustard yellow), but the QXa- 501 (2005) does come in burnt sienna but doesn't have the moulded grips whilst the QX-501 (2004) does come in burnt sienna and does have the grips but only scored 99.98 in the Which? Magazine Supermarket/Bus Manoeuverability tests and, well, you will be spending a lot of time in supermarkets so this is important etc etc etc
So we didn't buy a pushchair, too many variables at play. But we did get some other stuff like a high chair, some toys, a carrying sling thing that may well be called a papousse, as Brian reminded me today, and a bum bag for putting baby stuff into, and we got it all from a sort of baby show thing organised by one of the big baby stuff makers in Japan. The bit about robbery is that they claimed it would be a massive discount affair and that the average punter could save thousands. So the high chairs were all about 17,000 yen, reduced form 55-60,000 yen. Now I thought 'wow, huge savings' but the guru, in her clever and knowing way, poo-pooed my enthusiasm by saying that on the 'net they are always this price and no-one ever pays full price'. Makes sense, but that means either the company are not making any money at all (not likely, let's face it) or their rrp's are just complete bollocks - which is a lot more going for it, I reckon.
So we huffed and puffed around this big hall with about a million other couples and babies/young children (declining birth rate in Japan? Not on the evidence of Saturday afternoon) and amazingly didn't have an arguement, which I thought was pretty good going. But then again I have realised my role in the whole baby thing is, at the moment at least, to follow the guru around and say 'yes dear' to any question that she asks.
Tuesday, 1 February 2005
And the baby is a...
...well, it is, according to the doctor at his most gnostic, a boy...or possibly a girl, definitely one or the other.
Well thank you for that, I must admit you had me worried there, but now my mind is well and truly put at ease. Dimwit. The guru had another check-up today, hence the delay in writing, as I foolishly thought there might be some news on that score, but no, just the usuals. The usuals this time around were: the baby is ok; it is now over 1000grams; whilst the baby has been putting on weight the guru actually managed to lose some by keeping a careful eye on the calories she eats (her husband, whilst she has been doing this, has been telling her to eat more, I might add, but to no avail). Basically all still going well with the pregnancy thing, mother and child are doing fine whilst father is still trying to catch up. So that leaves us with...
Japan as a world player
Poor old Japan, it really doesn't get it at all. There has been much rumbling in the press recently as Japan has been making it every-so-often bid to get a permanent seat on the UN Security Council. The main reason, it seems, that Japan reckons it is owed a permanent seat is that Japan is the second biggest contributor to the UN funds, with only the Principality of Liechenstein giving more (possibly). Cash, it seems, equals power, and in most cases this is an absolute truth. But not for the UNSC, mainly because the more Japan clamours for a seat, the more it does really dumb things that makes everyone roll their eyes and smile into the handkerchiefs. Consider the recent couple of examples:
Refugees - I can't remember the exact details but is was something like this. A group of people pitched up in Japan, quite possibly Kurds from the middle east, and asked to be allowed to stay as they were refugees and if they were deported they would face the usual nastiness on their return 'home'. The UN got involved somehow, perhaps the group phoned the UN and asked if they could be designated as refugees "pretty please", to which the UN, always a sucker for this sort of thing, said 'oh all right then' and declared them thus. But the Japanese Immigration Bureau, to whom we dedicated unnumbered words a week or two ago, did not agree one bit with the UN and sent the group packing with a clip round the ear. So let's get this straight, you're really into getting a seat on arguably the most powerful UN body and in order to ingratiate yourself with the voting committee you pronounce the judgements of an almost equal body to be invalid and do exactly the opposite of what they recommend. Hmm, I wonder what the UN head of Refugees had to say to the head of the UNSC about Japan candidateship...?
Foreigners - They just keep turning up and gettng in the way, if only they would stay out of Japanese affairs the place would be a much better place. Excellent ruling from the Japanese high court this week on a case that has been rumbling on for a good few years. A woman by the name of Chong Hyang Gyun was refused permission to sit an exam that, if she passed would put her in charge of other healthcare workers for the Tokyo Metropolitan govt. Her name doesn't sound Japanese, this is because she is officially Korean. As has been pointed out on these pages before, a large number of Koreans were forcibly repatriated to Japan in WWII to work as slave labour in factories and, at war's end, stayed in Japan for whatever reason. These people, and their children, grand children and great grand etc have been denied Japanese nationality even though they may have only the most tenuous links with the Korean peninsula. Chong Hyang Gyun was one of these, a second generation Korean who is, to all intents and purposes, Japanese. She was also very good at her job and so, on the encouragement of colleagues applied to take an exam to gain promotion. She was denied this by the Tokyo Metropolitan govt on the grounds that foreigners could not be put in positions where they would have to give orders to Japanese public/government workers - who knows what havoc they could wreak? So she sued, stating that even if she couldn't take the position, she should be allowed to at least sit the exam [her logic]. After battles through the various levels of courts the Supreme jobbie had the final say this week and said, as if it was any surprise, that the govt had not acted in an unconstitutional manner and that foreigners are indeed dangerous and Japanese are unique. Now the point to make here is not so much the ruling itself, as I would be surprised if there are many countries that would too many decision making repsonsibilites to non-nationals in the public services. No, the point, I think, is that an awful lot of Japanese seem to think it is perfectly acceptable to maintain the fiction of a sub-class of residents who are Japanese in every way except that the govt has decided that they officially are not. As long as rights are denied to these "citizens" then Japan should have no chance whatsoever of gaining more influence or power in the UN.
More Pesky Foreigners - Otaru, Hokkaido has a problem. Stinky Russians keep coming over and using their onsen baths. But, damn them to hell, they don't know how to use them properly. OK, we have two options here. We could try welcoming them and then educating them on Japanese bath etiquette so they fit right in. Hmm, you mentioned another option...? Yes, we could just ban all foreigners from using baths in our town. This kind of intrigued a chap by the name of David Aldwinckle who decided to test it out. He gained Japanese citizenship (I doubt expressly to test the situation, but you never know) and tried to visit the 'ringleader' onsen with some chums, a mixture of Japanese and foreign. He, not surprisngly, was refused entry, even though he is officially Japanese, along with the other foreigners, whilst the Japanese were let in. Why? He looked foreign therefore he wasn't allowed in. His two daughters? The foreign looking one no, but the Japanese looking one ok! Naturally he took the onsen to court over racial discrimination but, and this is where the eye rolling starts, the court found in favour of the onsen, saying something like 'theye is no actual legal definition of racial discrimination in the UN charter [to which Japan is a signatory] so the onsen is free to decide what it wants to do' or something like that. Anyway you can read all about this chap and his one man crusade against discrimination here, and I would urge you to do so as it is fascinating stuff. So, this UN thing on discrimination, more like a guideline, right? Anyway about that seat...
But these are just three examples of the Japanese tendency to shoot themselves in the feet. I mean, for the court to decide that the UN Refugee agency doesn't know what it is talking about, or to decide that the UN doesn't really understand its own mandate on rascism, well, they're not exactly making any friends in the UN, now are they...
...well, it is, according to the doctor at his most gnostic, a boy...or possibly a girl, definitely one or the other.
Well thank you for that, I must admit you had me worried there, but now my mind is well and truly put at ease. Dimwit. The guru had another check-up today, hence the delay in writing, as I foolishly thought there might be some news on that score, but no, just the usuals. The usuals this time around were: the baby is ok; it is now over 1000grams; whilst the baby has been putting on weight the guru actually managed to lose some by keeping a careful eye on the calories she eats (her husband, whilst she has been doing this, has been telling her to eat more, I might add, but to no avail). Basically all still going well with the pregnancy thing, mother and child are doing fine whilst father is still trying to catch up. So that leaves us with...
Japan as a world player
Poor old Japan, it really doesn't get it at all. There has been much rumbling in the press recently as Japan has been making it every-so-often bid to get a permanent seat on the UN Security Council. The main reason, it seems, that Japan reckons it is owed a permanent seat is that Japan is the second biggest contributor to the UN funds, with only the Principality of Liechenstein giving more (possibly). Cash, it seems, equals power, and in most cases this is an absolute truth. But not for the UNSC, mainly because the more Japan clamours for a seat, the more it does really dumb things that makes everyone roll their eyes and smile into the handkerchiefs. Consider the recent couple of examples:
Refugees - I can't remember the exact details but is was something like this. A group of people pitched up in Japan, quite possibly Kurds from the middle east, and asked to be allowed to stay as they were refugees and if they were deported they would face the usual nastiness on their return 'home'. The UN got involved somehow, perhaps the group phoned the UN and asked if they could be designated as refugees "pretty please", to which the UN, always a sucker for this sort of thing, said 'oh all right then' and declared them thus. But the Japanese Immigration Bureau, to whom we dedicated unnumbered words a week or two ago, did not agree one bit with the UN and sent the group packing with a clip round the ear. So let's get this straight, you're really into getting a seat on arguably the most powerful UN body and in order to ingratiate yourself with the voting committee you pronounce the judgements of an almost equal body to be invalid and do exactly the opposite of what they recommend. Hmm, I wonder what the UN head of Refugees had to say to the head of the UNSC about Japan candidateship...?
Foreigners - They just keep turning up and gettng in the way, if only they would stay out of Japanese affairs the place would be a much better place. Excellent ruling from the Japanese high court this week on a case that has been rumbling on for a good few years. A woman by the name of Chong Hyang Gyun was refused permission to sit an exam that, if she passed would put her in charge of other healthcare workers for the Tokyo Metropolitan govt. Her name doesn't sound Japanese, this is because she is officially Korean. As has been pointed out on these pages before, a large number of Koreans were forcibly repatriated to Japan in WWII to work as slave labour in factories and, at war's end, stayed in Japan for whatever reason. These people, and their children, grand children and great grand etc have been denied Japanese nationality even though they may have only the most tenuous links with the Korean peninsula. Chong Hyang Gyun was one of these, a second generation Korean who is, to all intents and purposes, Japanese. She was also very good at her job and so, on the encouragement of colleagues applied to take an exam to gain promotion. She was denied this by the Tokyo Metropolitan govt on the grounds that foreigners could not be put in positions where they would have to give orders to Japanese public/government workers - who knows what havoc they could wreak? So she sued, stating that even if she couldn't take the position, she should be allowed to at least sit the exam [her logic]. After battles through the various levels of courts the Supreme jobbie had the final say this week and said, as if it was any surprise, that the govt had not acted in an unconstitutional manner and that foreigners are indeed dangerous and Japanese are unique. Now the point to make here is not so much the ruling itself, as I would be surprised if there are many countries that would too many decision making repsonsibilites to non-nationals in the public services. No, the point, I think, is that an awful lot of Japanese seem to think it is perfectly acceptable to maintain the fiction of a sub-class of residents who are Japanese in every way except that the govt has decided that they officially are not. As long as rights are denied to these "citizens" then Japan should have no chance whatsoever of gaining more influence or power in the UN.
More Pesky Foreigners - Otaru, Hokkaido has a problem. Stinky Russians keep coming over and using their onsen baths. But, damn them to hell, they don't know how to use them properly. OK, we have two options here. We could try welcoming them and then educating them on Japanese bath etiquette so they fit right in. Hmm, you mentioned another option...? Yes, we could just ban all foreigners from using baths in our town. This kind of intrigued a chap by the name of David Aldwinckle who decided to test it out. He gained Japanese citizenship (I doubt expressly to test the situation, but you never know) and tried to visit the 'ringleader' onsen with some chums, a mixture of Japanese and foreign. He, not surprisngly, was refused entry, even though he is officially Japanese, along with the other foreigners, whilst the Japanese were let in. Why? He looked foreign therefore he wasn't allowed in. His two daughters? The foreign looking one no, but the Japanese looking one ok! Naturally he took the onsen to court over racial discrimination but, and this is where the eye rolling starts, the court found in favour of the onsen, saying something like 'theye is no actual legal definition of racial discrimination in the UN charter [to which Japan is a signatory] so the onsen is free to decide what it wants to do' or something like that. Anyway you can read all about this chap and his one man crusade against discrimination here, and I would urge you to do so as it is fascinating stuff. So, this UN thing on discrimination, more like a guideline, right? Anyway about that seat...
But these are just three examples of the Japanese tendency to shoot themselves in the feet. I mean, for the court to decide that the UN Refugee agency doesn't know what it is talking about, or to decide that the UN doesn't really understand its own mandate on rascism, well, they're not exactly making any friends in the UN, now are they...
Monday, 24 January 2005
Airport
I went to narita airport today to meet a bunch of new teachers who were arriving to take over from a load leaving at the end of the month. I don't mind going to the airport as it means I get to get out of the office, sit on a train and read for a good hour or two - or you could just call it having a skive and getting paid for it, I suppose. It's a tough job etc. Although now I have changed jobs I am getting out and about a lot more - did I mention I've changed jobs? Well, temorarily at least as I am looking after a job due to maternity leave, which means no longer do I "do something in HR", now I have to manage the director's of studies, which is, well, not what I was doing before. Anyway this means I won't get to go to the airport and meet the newbies as the person who is looking after "my" job is doing that for the duration, but today was rope showing day.
The oddest thing, I think, about Narita, is that once you get off one of the various trains that run there, you go through a kind of pre-immigration screening. So you stroll up to one of the counters, stop and hand one of the police-type bods your alien registration card (or, and I'm glad they're not rascist about this, your passport if you are Japanese). The bod then looks at the card, confirms that you are indeed a card carrying alien, gives it back and allows you to proceed. That's it.
What is the point?
They don't search bags, they don't ask questions, they don't do anything except look at your card and then let you go through. It seems such a waste of time and effort but everyone is stopped and held up for the minimum designated time allowed by the govt for annoying people. And why do they need to check the alien registration card of a person going to meet people and not go anywhere near a plane? I don't know.
Other than that I like Narita airport, though it seems I am in a minority on this one. I remember reading this, or something like it a while ago and it got me thinking. More than one article has gone on about the soullessness of Narita, that it is sterile with no character. Well, every time I go back to the UK I have to experience the sterile Narita and the characterful Heathrow and, well, give me Japan everytime please. Also, as the article in the link goes on about how Narita is a good way out of Tokyo in the rice fields of Chiba, but apparently this is a bad thing. Last time I was in the UK I took the tube from Balham, where I was staying with a friend to Heathrow, and the trip was at least the equal in terms of time of any of the ways from Narita to the center of town. And I've never used the super speedy and plush Narita Express, which at about 3000yen, or 15 quid, is a far better deal than the one from Paddington to Heathrow, so I reckon there is an even better way than I normally use.
For soulless and sterile read lots of space and speedy through times. I mean, who really wants 'character' at an airport anyway? Personally I want the quickest processing time so I have to spend the minimum amount of time there after which I can get on with what I'm doing. If you want character at an airport, go to the third world, or Heathrow, for that matter, which is probably the worst airport I've ever had to use. I rememer when the guru and I were having the UK leg of our extended wedding and her mother and brother came over. We met them at the airport and, after the 12 hour flight, they wanted to use the toilet facilities. The only place we could find was a rickety wooden portacabin outside a terminal as all the ones inside were closed for cleaning or refurbishment. It was embarassing to say the least.
The plushest airport we've been through was Kuala Lumpur, when we went on holiday to Langkawi island. The only problem was that we arrived at about midnight and our connecting flight was at something like 6am, so we had some time to kill. After wandering around for bit we decided to get a few hours kip on a bench, but, and here was the problem, they had the aircon cranked up to arctic mode and we, with our bags in a hold somewhere, had nothing but the t-shirt and shorts we were wearing. In the end we both did our best homeless person impressions by using newspaper as a blanket - rolled up in yesterday's daily yomiuri we must have looked a sight but at least we were warm...
So anyway, Narita, I think you're doing ok.
I went to narita airport today to meet a bunch of new teachers who were arriving to take over from a load leaving at the end of the month. I don't mind going to the airport as it means I get to get out of the office, sit on a train and read for a good hour or two - or you could just call it having a skive and getting paid for it, I suppose. It's a tough job etc. Although now I have changed jobs I am getting out and about a lot more - did I mention I've changed jobs? Well, temorarily at least as I am looking after a job due to maternity leave, which means no longer do I "do something in HR", now I have to manage the director's of studies, which is, well, not what I was doing before. Anyway this means I won't get to go to the airport and meet the newbies as the person who is looking after "my" job is doing that for the duration, but today was rope showing day.
The oddest thing, I think, about Narita, is that once you get off one of the various trains that run there, you go through a kind of pre-immigration screening. So you stroll up to one of the counters, stop and hand one of the police-type bods your alien registration card (or, and I'm glad they're not rascist about this, your passport if you are Japanese). The bod then looks at the card, confirms that you are indeed a card carrying alien, gives it back and allows you to proceed. That's it.
What is the point?
They don't search bags, they don't ask questions, they don't do anything except look at your card and then let you go through. It seems such a waste of time and effort but everyone is stopped and held up for the minimum designated time allowed by the govt for annoying people. And why do they need to check the alien registration card of a person going to meet people and not go anywhere near a plane? I don't know.
Other than that I like Narita airport, though it seems I am in a minority on this one. I remember reading this, or something like it a while ago and it got me thinking. More than one article has gone on about the soullessness of Narita, that it is sterile with no character. Well, every time I go back to the UK I have to experience the sterile Narita and the characterful Heathrow and, well, give me Japan everytime please. Also, as the article in the link goes on about how Narita is a good way out of Tokyo in the rice fields of Chiba, but apparently this is a bad thing. Last time I was in the UK I took the tube from Balham, where I was staying with a friend to Heathrow, and the trip was at least the equal in terms of time of any of the ways from Narita to the center of town. And I've never used the super speedy and plush Narita Express, which at about 3000yen, or 15 quid, is a far better deal than the one from Paddington to Heathrow, so I reckon there is an even better way than I normally use.
For soulless and sterile read lots of space and speedy through times. I mean, who really wants 'character' at an airport anyway? Personally I want the quickest processing time so I have to spend the minimum amount of time there after which I can get on with what I'm doing. If you want character at an airport, go to the third world, or Heathrow, for that matter, which is probably the worst airport I've ever had to use. I rememer when the guru and I were having the UK leg of our extended wedding and her mother and brother came over. We met them at the airport and, after the 12 hour flight, they wanted to use the toilet facilities. The only place we could find was a rickety wooden portacabin outside a terminal as all the ones inside were closed for cleaning or refurbishment. It was embarassing to say the least.
The plushest airport we've been through was Kuala Lumpur, when we went on holiday to Langkawi island. The only problem was that we arrived at about midnight and our connecting flight was at something like 6am, so we had some time to kill. After wandering around for bit we decided to get a few hours kip on a bench, but, and here was the problem, they had the aircon cranked up to arctic mode and we, with our bags in a hold somewhere, had nothing but the t-shirt and shorts we were wearing. In the end we both did our best homeless person impressions by using newspaper as a blanket - rolled up in yesterday's daily yomiuri we must have looked a sight but at least we were warm...
So anyway, Narita, I think you're doing ok.
Wednesday, 19 January 2005
Tuesday, 18 January 2005
apologies
for the delay, I would have written last night but I was entranced by the cricket and the 'will we won't we win'-ness of it all. Unfortunately all i could do was follow it on cricinfo and their excellent live updates service as this was the only place I could find it. I know the BBC aren't allowed to do radio broadcasts from overseas tests, which just pisses me off, but I'd have thought a radio station in South Africa might have picked up the coverage, but no, there's nothing for us poor plebs who don't live in the UK to listen to. What especially f*cks me off is that radio 4 or five live do broadcast over the internet, but only to those with an ISP (or maybe DNS, I don't know) in the UK. What the f*ck is the internet for, unless for people who don't have access to UK radio?
As you can quite imagine, this annoys me just a little. I even emailed the ICC in an attempt to find out the reasons why, but they did not deign to reply to me, the tossers.
But what a game and what performances by Trescothick and Hoggard. Goodness me but it was nailbiting stuff, even if you only get news refreshed every 70 seconds. Well done chaps, excellent work all round.
baby stuff
The guru went for another check-up and scan today and all showed up ok. The Doc had said that we would be allowed to know the gender today, if they could tell from the scan, but unfortunately they could not (still looks like a fuzzy grey blob to me, hope it looks different when it comes out...). A little annoying is that the doc knows. It was confirmed by a test they did about a month ago, but you have to sign a piece of paper acknowledging the doc won't tell you at that stage, I guess as it is still within the legal abortion time limit and they don't want, rightly, couples choosing this option because of the baby's gender. But now, you'd have thought, the doc would relent a little as we are past that date, but no, rules are rules, don't you know, so wait until the scan shows you.
Still all a bit abstract for me, this pregnancy thing. Obviously the guru is getting bigger and I see the scan shots after every check-up, but it still doesn't quite seem to be real or connected yet. The other night I felt Fuu (as he/she/it is known at the moment (which is Japanese for 'wind', as this is what the first movements the guru felt might have been (and sounds better than naming a foetus 'indigestion'))) kicking for the first time myself, which freaked me out and pleased me no end at the same time, which is a strange feeling. I remember golf-playing-brother saying that the emotions didn't really kick in until Charlie was born, and I can see very much what he means.
Also, i think, parenthood in Japan seems to be left to the womenfolk as the men are too busy out hunting mammoths, or something. Don't really know why I think that, on reflection, perhaps I'm falling into the foreigner trap that views Japanese men as workaholic automatons (spelling?) whose free time consists of golf, pachinko, hostess bars and sleeping, which I am sure is doing a great disservice to a lot of fathers. But having said that, paternity leave is unheard of in Japan (so, interestingly, is compassionate leave) in that there is nothing enshrined in legisation to say that you are allowed to take time off work for either. Indeed my boss, whose wife gave birth in August last year, was phoned on the day by his (Japanese, female) boss and asked questions about budgets before it was suggested that he might be available the following day (which, to make matters even more absurd, was a Saturday) for a meeting! He naturally gave the idea very short shrift (which I think is a fantastic expression and not used nearly enough these days) and still kept his job, which was nice going.
Also, I have no idea what prospective fathers go through in the UK in terms of 'training' or 'parenting classes' or whatnot, but here again dads-to-be get a couple of 2 hour workshops on, as far as I can tell, how to bath babies (in the sink?) and...er...not sure what else we get, how to brush their teeth, perhaps, I do't know. Anyway, doesn't seem to be a lot, whilst again the mums-to-be seem to be off to something every other week - well, the guru seems to be pretty active and busy, and that's about as far as my knowledge goes. But, and I'm really looking forward to this, at one of these workshops I get to wear a 'pregnancy pack', which a 3kg strap-on that is meant to recreate the sensation of weight that women have to put up with and therefore make us menfolk sympathise more with our wives' plight. This is cool as I get to sympathise, nod sagely and then take it off after 10 minutes whilst the guru will have another 3 months. Doesn't seem fair, somehow.
+++update 2+++
As I'm no doubt you've been worried, I can confirm that all our teachers returned safe and sound from their holidays in Thailand and the Indian ocean. I think this was more down to luck than anything else, and a few teachers saw things that didn't want to, but overall everyone was uninjured and unharmed, thank goodness.
for the delay, I would have written last night but I was entranced by the cricket and the 'will we won't we win'-ness of it all. Unfortunately all i could do was follow it on cricinfo and their excellent live updates service as this was the only place I could find it. I know the BBC aren't allowed to do radio broadcasts from overseas tests, which just pisses me off, but I'd have thought a radio station in South Africa might have picked up the coverage, but no, there's nothing for us poor plebs who don't live in the UK to listen to. What especially f*cks me off is that radio 4 or five live do broadcast over the internet, but only to those with an ISP (or maybe DNS, I don't know) in the UK. What the f*ck is the internet for, unless for people who don't have access to UK radio?
As you can quite imagine, this annoys me just a little. I even emailed the ICC in an attempt to find out the reasons why, but they did not deign to reply to me, the tossers.
But what a game and what performances by Trescothick and Hoggard. Goodness me but it was nailbiting stuff, even if you only get news refreshed every 70 seconds. Well done chaps, excellent work all round.
baby stuff
The guru went for another check-up and scan today and all showed up ok. The Doc had said that we would be allowed to know the gender today, if they could tell from the scan, but unfortunately they could not (still looks like a fuzzy grey blob to me, hope it looks different when it comes out...). A little annoying is that the doc knows. It was confirmed by a test they did about a month ago, but you have to sign a piece of paper acknowledging the doc won't tell you at that stage, I guess as it is still within the legal abortion time limit and they don't want, rightly, couples choosing this option because of the baby's gender. But now, you'd have thought, the doc would relent a little as we are past that date, but no, rules are rules, don't you know, so wait until the scan shows you.
Still all a bit abstract for me, this pregnancy thing. Obviously the guru is getting bigger and I see the scan shots after every check-up, but it still doesn't quite seem to be real or connected yet. The other night I felt Fuu (as he/she/it is known at the moment (which is Japanese for 'wind', as this is what the first movements the guru felt might have been (and sounds better than naming a foetus 'indigestion'))) kicking for the first time myself, which freaked me out and pleased me no end at the same time, which is a strange feeling. I remember golf-playing-brother saying that the emotions didn't really kick in until Charlie was born, and I can see very much what he means.
Also, i think, parenthood in Japan seems to be left to the womenfolk as the men are too busy out hunting mammoths, or something. Don't really know why I think that, on reflection, perhaps I'm falling into the foreigner trap that views Japanese men as workaholic automatons (spelling?) whose free time consists of golf, pachinko, hostess bars and sleeping, which I am sure is doing a great disservice to a lot of fathers. But having said that, paternity leave is unheard of in Japan (so, interestingly, is compassionate leave) in that there is nothing enshrined in legisation to say that you are allowed to take time off work for either. Indeed my boss, whose wife gave birth in August last year, was phoned on the day by his (Japanese, female) boss and asked questions about budgets before it was suggested that he might be available the following day (which, to make matters even more absurd, was a Saturday) for a meeting! He naturally gave the idea very short shrift (which I think is a fantastic expression and not used nearly enough these days) and still kept his job, which was nice going.
Also, I have no idea what prospective fathers go through in the UK in terms of 'training' or 'parenting classes' or whatnot, but here again dads-to-be get a couple of 2 hour workshops on, as far as I can tell, how to bath babies (in the sink?) and...er...not sure what else we get, how to brush their teeth, perhaps, I do't know. Anyway, doesn't seem to be a lot, whilst again the mums-to-be seem to be off to something every other week - well, the guru seems to be pretty active and busy, and that's about as far as my knowledge goes. But, and I'm really looking forward to this, at one of these workshops I get to wear a 'pregnancy pack', which a 3kg strap-on that is meant to recreate the sensation of weight that women have to put up with and therefore make us menfolk sympathise more with our wives' plight. This is cool as I get to sympathise, nod sagely and then take it off after 10 minutes whilst the guru will have another 3 months. Doesn't seem fair, somehow.
+++update 2+++
As I'm no doubt you've been worried, I can confirm that all our teachers returned safe and sound from their holidays in Thailand and the Indian ocean. I think this was more down to luck than anything else, and a few teachers saw things that didn't want to, but overall everyone was uninjured and unharmed, thank goodness.
Saturday, 15 January 2005
Monday, 10 January 2005
Hmm...
Been quite a quiet week, all told. Well, worky kind of stuff was busy, what with new teachers arriving - and leaving the day after they got here in one case (not a great start to the year!) and the usual problems with visas and immigration that governments all over the world seem to enjoy providing visitors with. Japan is a great country in this respect, for the last eighteen months or so it has been one of the main areas of my job to ensure that every foreigner in the company has a valid working visa and that we comply with all the regulations etc. This would be fine except that it means we (not I, I have a Japanese assistant who actually does the talking, thankfully) have to deal with the immigration department on an almost daily basis. Now as I noted above, I think immigration departments the world over are of a standard, in that they like to make life as difficult as possible if they can, but the Japanese one is especially good in that it refuses, as far as we can tell, to give definitive aswers to any questions that we may ask. So, if we were to, say enquire if it was ok for so-and-so to apply for a visa, considering this is their background? The reply we'd get would be "apply, if it's refused then no, if its accepted, then ok". Can you tell us without the rigmarole of applying for the visa? "No, apply and you'll see". Very helpful. Even better is the 'its decided case by case' answer, which means that a person might get a visa on one day, but on another day with another inspector, might not...
Now I can accept this from a third world banana republic where the size of the donation influences the expedition of your case, but in a scrupulously by-the-book country like Japan, it doesn't seem to fit somehow. Still open to personal interpretation, I suppose. Puts me in mind of a situation from over a year ago, when a teacher was hired to come out from the UK. He wasn't English but had been living in the UK since he was 2, so had been through all stages of education in the UK, including university and then completed a teaching course and was eager to start his first teaching job. Immigration had other ideas, though. He was originally from South Korea, you see, and therefore can't be an English teacher as English isn't an official language of South Korea so he can't speak it. But, but, but... Nope, doesn't matter, he can't speak English therefore he can't be an English teacher. Not the slightest hint that it was because he was South Korean? Well, probably, but of course immigration can use this argument because they feel like it. Doesn't matter that the visas we get aren't even for being an 'English' teacher, they are issued under the spurious title of ''Specialist in Humanities and International Relations', whatever that really means. And of course if the Japanese Embassy in London make an error in processing the visa at their end, that must really be the fault of the passport holder - they should have spotted there was an error and notified the Embassy, even though no-one knows what a visa looks like until they get one, so how would you know there was an error on it?
Seems that some bright spark somewhere has also decided that a good way to speed up the immigration queues at Narita is to introduce ID cards with biometric data on and a fingerprint sample, meaning that one could in effect do away with a passport and just whizz through with the swipe of a card. I couldn't gather if this was ging to be only for Japanese, for foreigners with work visas and/or residency permits, or everybody. I don't know, when I first came to Japan they were still issuing the old style Alien Registration (or Gaijin) Cards. These were much like the current ones, except that the new ones have a signature whereas the old ones had a copy of your fingerprint on it. Personally, because of the connotations associated with fingerprinting i.e. that you a criminal or a suspect, I didn't like these old cards and was happy when they changed them. Now, in the name of security, they are proposing to re-start them. Hmm indeed...
+++Update+++
Talking of teachers, some good news on the holidaying front as one of the teachers I was worried about has returned safe and well to Japan. I haven't spoken to him but apparently he is fine and I'm not even sure he was near to anything bad at the time. Another teacher was very close to everything, being on Ko Phi Phi island on boxing day. She is safe and uninjured, which is the good news, but somewhat traumatised by what she has seen, not surprisingly. Her director of studies spoke to her today and said she seems ok, but this will take some careful looking after, I suspect. Also, she wasn't aware of too many other of our teachers on the island, which again is good news, but then again we have a lot of teachers and she wouldn't know them all, so... Anyway, as I mentioned last week, tomorrow is the first day back at school so we will wait and see and hope.
Huh?
Read this in the paper this morning made me wonder. Chap in car with colleague/partner runs a red light and a crossroads. Coming the other way, approaching the green light, is another car. Second car goes through the green and hits the car running the red light, killing both the driver and passenger in the red car - driver of car going through the green is injured but survives. Simple situation, case closed says a judge. Except yesterday another judge re-opened the case as the parents of red running car driver wish to sue the driver of green running car for killing their son. They say that there was enough visibility for the green driver to see their son's car and therefore he should have taken avoiding action. Also, and this is where it gets a bit more complicated, the green driver was doing 'about' 90kph approaching the crossing in a 60kph zone. So the judge has decided that he will open the case to look, I guess, at manslaughter by the green driver. Personally I think this is just a little bit too screwed up. I mean, the guy ran a red light, so surely any responsibility was then his. OK, the green driver was speeding, but you still wouldn't, shouldn't and can't expect a car to be breaking the laws of the road and of common sense by driving through a red light at a crossing. Or can you?
'Drive as if you expect every other car on the road to be about to do something stupid' is obviously good advice, but still, in this case, I can't believe the green driver is too culpable. Then again I don't drive in Japan, no real need to, so maybe I'm the one who's in the wrong.
Been quite a quiet week, all told. Well, worky kind of stuff was busy, what with new teachers arriving - and leaving the day after they got here in one case (not a great start to the year!) and the usual problems with visas and immigration that governments all over the world seem to enjoy providing visitors with. Japan is a great country in this respect, for the last eighteen months or so it has been one of the main areas of my job to ensure that every foreigner in the company has a valid working visa and that we comply with all the regulations etc. This would be fine except that it means we (not I, I have a Japanese assistant who actually does the talking, thankfully) have to deal with the immigration department on an almost daily basis. Now as I noted above, I think immigration departments the world over are of a standard, in that they like to make life as difficult as possible if they can, but the Japanese one is especially good in that it refuses, as far as we can tell, to give definitive aswers to any questions that we may ask. So, if we were to, say enquire if it was ok for so-and-so to apply for a visa, considering this is their background? The reply we'd get would be "apply, if it's refused then no, if its accepted, then ok". Can you tell us without the rigmarole of applying for the visa? "No, apply and you'll see". Very helpful. Even better is the 'its decided case by case' answer, which means that a person might get a visa on one day, but on another day with another inspector, might not...
Now I can accept this from a third world banana republic where the size of the donation influences the expedition of your case, but in a scrupulously by-the-book country like Japan, it doesn't seem to fit somehow. Still open to personal interpretation, I suppose. Puts me in mind of a situation from over a year ago, when a teacher was hired to come out from the UK. He wasn't English but had been living in the UK since he was 2, so had been through all stages of education in the UK, including university and then completed a teaching course and was eager to start his first teaching job. Immigration had other ideas, though. He was originally from South Korea, you see, and therefore can't be an English teacher as English isn't an official language of South Korea so he can't speak it. But, but, but... Nope, doesn't matter, he can't speak English therefore he can't be an English teacher. Not the slightest hint that it was because he was South Korean? Well, probably, but of course immigration can use this argument because they feel like it. Doesn't matter that the visas we get aren't even for being an 'English' teacher, they are issued under the spurious title of ''Specialist in Humanities and International Relations', whatever that really means. And of course if the Japanese Embassy in London make an error in processing the visa at their end, that must really be the fault of the passport holder - they should have spotted there was an error and notified the Embassy, even though no-one knows what a visa looks like until they get one, so how would you know there was an error on it?
Seems that some bright spark somewhere has also decided that a good way to speed up the immigration queues at Narita is to introduce ID cards with biometric data on and a fingerprint sample, meaning that one could in effect do away with a passport and just whizz through with the swipe of a card. I couldn't gather if this was ging to be only for Japanese, for foreigners with work visas and/or residency permits, or everybody. I don't know, when I first came to Japan they were still issuing the old style Alien Registration (or Gaijin) Cards. These were much like the current ones, except that the new ones have a signature whereas the old ones had a copy of your fingerprint on it. Personally, because of the connotations associated with fingerprinting i.e. that you a criminal or a suspect, I didn't like these old cards and was happy when they changed them. Now, in the name of security, they are proposing to re-start them. Hmm indeed...
+++Update+++
Talking of teachers, some good news on the holidaying front as one of the teachers I was worried about has returned safe and well to Japan. I haven't spoken to him but apparently he is fine and I'm not even sure he was near to anything bad at the time. Another teacher was very close to everything, being on Ko Phi Phi island on boxing day. She is safe and uninjured, which is the good news, but somewhat traumatised by what she has seen, not surprisingly. Her director of studies spoke to her today and said she seems ok, but this will take some careful looking after, I suspect. Also, she wasn't aware of too many other of our teachers on the island, which again is good news, but then again we have a lot of teachers and she wouldn't know them all, so... Anyway, as I mentioned last week, tomorrow is the first day back at school so we will wait and see and hope.
Huh?
Read this in the paper this morning made me wonder. Chap in car with colleague/partner runs a red light and a crossroads. Coming the other way, approaching the green light, is another car. Second car goes through the green and hits the car running the red light, killing both the driver and passenger in the red car - driver of car going through the green is injured but survives. Simple situation, case closed says a judge. Except yesterday another judge re-opened the case as the parents of red running car driver wish to sue the driver of green running car for killing their son. They say that there was enough visibility for the green driver to see their son's car and therefore he should have taken avoiding action. Also, and this is where it gets a bit more complicated, the green driver was doing 'about' 90kph approaching the crossing in a 60kph zone. So the judge has decided that he will open the case to look, I guess, at manslaughter by the green driver. Personally I think this is just a little bit too screwed up. I mean, the guy ran a red light, so surely any responsibility was then his. OK, the green driver was speeding, but you still wouldn't, shouldn't and can't expect a car to be breaking the laws of the road and of common sense by driving through a red light at a crossing. Or can you?
'Drive as if you expect every other car on the road to be about to do something stupid' is obviously good advice, but still, in this case, I can't believe the green driver is too culpable. Then again I don't drive in Japan, no real need to, so maybe I'm the one who's in the wrong.
Tuesday, 4 January 2005
it's all over now...
My holiday that is, rather than all the nasty things that have been going on over the festive period. Not content with all the bombs going off in the middle east, the indian ocean tsunami has cut its path over the area. Now I realise that most people, unless living on a very different planet, will know what has happened, so far be it from me to go over old news, bad though it is. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, the first day in the office but not the first day open for schools, as I will have to begin the quest to find how many of our teachers were caught up in the whole thing. As Thailand is only a little over 6 hours away and is both cheap to get to and cheap to stay, it is a very popular destination for expats in Japan and especially our teachers - I have been there myself, though not to Phuket and the southern islands. I know for a fact that at least two teachers were in Thailand over the christmas holidays - I pray that I'm right in remembering that one chap I spoke to really did say that he was going north for the first few days to see jungles and elephants before heading to Phuket to spend some time on a beach. That doesn't, of course, include anyone that might have been in Sri Lanka, Malaysia, the Maldives or Indonesia, which is a distinct possibility as well as again all are reasonably close and not too difficult to get to. The 7pm news on behind me has just mentioned a potential figure of 150,000 victims, a truly mind boggling number and that's just from the waves and destruction, heaven knows what the real toll will be after the diseases, pollution and poverty kick in. Seems to me that usually earthquakes themselves aren't actually all that lethal in themselves, it seems to be what follows that does the damage, like the tsunami last week and the fires after the 1923 Tokyo earthquake (ok, the idea doesn't apply to the 1995 Hanshin/Kobe earthquake, but there you go - but then again, there wasn't much in the way of 'aftermath' from the Chuetsu/Niigata earthquake earlier this year and the number of victims was comparatively small).
One of the more disagreeable things about the reactions to the tsunami was how quickly some sections started shouting "you're not sending enough" to various national governments even before the dust had settled, as it were. It would seem to me that that sort of comment, would be better made after at least a period or recovery and stock taking, not before the first aid planes have even left the runways. Now I realise that those at the centre of things want as much help as quickly as possible, and fair enough, but the comments I saw were made by people nowhere near the crisis and were made, it appeared, to score political points, which seems entirely inappropriate. Also interesting was the situation in Sri Lanka with the government and the Tamil Tigers. Immediately after the tsunami both parties refused to co-operate (unlike the situation in Aceh) and both accused the other of putting lives in danger and the papers seemed to sympathize with the govt. In today's paper it would appear that the highly hierarchical and militaristic nature of the Tigers and the area they control have in fact been extremely effective in dealing with the problems, leading to reduced but sufficient essentials for everybody, whilst those in govt controlled areas are suffering from the old problems of looting and corruption. Who knows, the tsunami might be a blessing in disguise for the Tiger's independence movement.
Of course finger pointing will start, or has started, mainly concerning why a tsunami early warning system wasn't in place and why govts, aware that a massive earthquake had occured and knowing tsunami were likely, didn't warn peopleto get away from the beaches. Good questions and some govts are going to have a hard time of it, I suspect. Hopefully Japan, with all its expertise in earthquake detection and the minimising to associated damage can be helpful in building the requisite systems that will make this less of a disaster if and when it happens again, though the feeling of closing the gate after the horses have bolted will surely persist.
On a personal note
Glad to say that baby things are all going well, though the guru, who thought 'morning sickness' was a thing of the past, seems to have rediscovered a knack for it and is feeling somewhat leer, the poor thing. Plenty of lying down and rest, says the doc, but that seems to make it worse - I don't know, I thought it was all meant to be a little easier than this...
Anyway yesterday we did our duty by going along to Suitengu shrine as reporrted that we would do a few weeks ago. The reason one goes here is to pray for a healthy and happy pregnancy and trouble free birth - fat chance on the first score so hopefully the birth will be ok. New year is a time when absolutely everyone in Japan visits a shrine or temple to pray for good luck in the coming 12 months, so we were expecting the crowds to be awful, but no need. When you go to Suitengu for a blessing, you get the personal treatment in that you go into the temple proper and kneel whilst the priest chap does his stuff. This, essentially, is shaking a big white paper/feather duster at you, then chanting something that, somewhere, includes the mother's name (I missed it) and other words that I assume are along the lines of "murmur murmur murmur hope everything goes smoothly murmur murmur murmur etc". The whole ceremony only lasted about 10 minutes but all the expectant mother's to be were happy (they do you in batches of 6, to save time (and murmur potential I daresay)), including the guru. And me, of course.
Oh yes...
...and got my GT4 at last - looks like studying's out of the window for a while, then.
My holiday that is, rather than all the nasty things that have been going on over the festive period. Not content with all the bombs going off in the middle east, the indian ocean tsunami has cut its path over the area. Now I realise that most people, unless living on a very different planet, will know what has happened, so far be it from me to go over old news, bad though it is. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, the first day in the office but not the first day open for schools, as I will have to begin the quest to find how many of our teachers were caught up in the whole thing. As Thailand is only a little over 6 hours away and is both cheap to get to and cheap to stay, it is a very popular destination for expats in Japan and especially our teachers - I have been there myself, though not to Phuket and the southern islands. I know for a fact that at least two teachers were in Thailand over the christmas holidays - I pray that I'm right in remembering that one chap I spoke to really did say that he was going north for the first few days to see jungles and elephants before heading to Phuket to spend some time on a beach. That doesn't, of course, include anyone that might have been in Sri Lanka, Malaysia, the Maldives or Indonesia, which is a distinct possibility as well as again all are reasonably close and not too difficult to get to. The 7pm news on behind me has just mentioned a potential figure of 150,000 victims, a truly mind boggling number and that's just from the waves and destruction, heaven knows what the real toll will be after the diseases, pollution and poverty kick in. Seems to me that usually earthquakes themselves aren't actually all that lethal in themselves, it seems to be what follows that does the damage, like the tsunami last week and the fires after the 1923 Tokyo earthquake (ok, the idea doesn't apply to the 1995 Hanshin/Kobe earthquake, but there you go - but then again, there wasn't much in the way of 'aftermath' from the Chuetsu/Niigata earthquake earlier this year and the number of victims was comparatively small).
One of the more disagreeable things about the reactions to the tsunami was how quickly some sections started shouting "you're not sending enough" to various national governments even before the dust had settled, as it were. It would seem to me that that sort of comment, would be better made after at least a period or recovery and stock taking, not before the first aid planes have even left the runways. Now I realise that those at the centre of things want as much help as quickly as possible, and fair enough, but the comments I saw were made by people nowhere near the crisis and were made, it appeared, to score political points, which seems entirely inappropriate. Also interesting was the situation in Sri Lanka with the government and the Tamil Tigers. Immediately after the tsunami both parties refused to co-operate (unlike the situation in Aceh) and both accused the other of putting lives in danger and the papers seemed to sympathize with the govt. In today's paper it would appear that the highly hierarchical and militaristic nature of the Tigers and the area they control have in fact been extremely effective in dealing with the problems, leading to reduced but sufficient essentials for everybody, whilst those in govt controlled areas are suffering from the old problems of looting and corruption. Who knows, the tsunami might be a blessing in disguise for the Tiger's independence movement.
Of course finger pointing will start, or has started, mainly concerning why a tsunami early warning system wasn't in place and why govts, aware that a massive earthquake had occured and knowing tsunami were likely, didn't warn peopleto get away from the beaches. Good questions and some govts are going to have a hard time of it, I suspect. Hopefully Japan, with all its expertise in earthquake detection and the minimising to associated damage can be helpful in building the requisite systems that will make this less of a disaster if and when it happens again, though the feeling of closing the gate after the horses have bolted will surely persist.
On a personal note
Glad to say that baby things are all going well, though the guru, who thought 'morning sickness' was a thing of the past, seems to have rediscovered a knack for it and is feeling somewhat leer, the poor thing. Plenty of lying down and rest, says the doc, but that seems to make it worse - I don't know, I thought it was all meant to be a little easier than this...
Anyway yesterday we did our duty by going along to Suitengu shrine as reporrted that we would do a few weeks ago. The reason one goes here is to pray for a healthy and happy pregnancy and trouble free birth - fat chance on the first score so hopefully the birth will be ok. New year is a time when absolutely everyone in Japan visits a shrine or temple to pray for good luck in the coming 12 months, so we were expecting the crowds to be awful, but no need. When you go to Suitengu for a blessing, you get the personal treatment in that you go into the temple proper and kneel whilst the priest chap does his stuff. This, essentially, is shaking a big white paper/feather duster at you, then chanting something that, somewhere, includes the mother's name (I missed it) and other words that I assume are along the lines of "murmur murmur murmur hope everything goes smoothly murmur murmur murmur etc". The whole ceremony only lasted about 10 minutes but all the expectant mother's to be were happy (they do you in batches of 6, to save time (and murmur potential I daresay)), including the guru. And me, of course.
Oh yes...
...and got my GT4 at last - looks like studying's out of the window for a while, then.
Thursday, 23 December 2004
after thinking about it for a while, I'm not going to write about what I was going to write about. It was pregnancy stuff with the guru that is not, I think, for public consumption just yet. Don't worry though, everything is fine and the regular check-up yesterday was like clockwork - well, inasmuch as the guru was left staring at the clock in the hospital for most of the day whilst waiting for appointments, almost nhs-like in the amount of time it took, but the doctor said everything was ok, so that's cool. So onto other business.
The weekend
Last weekend was a busy one, what with not studying but going out for various parties and the like. Friday, being the last official friday in the office, was designated 'Pub Crawl night' and was organised by computer and erstwhile Tokyo nightlife bon vivant Chris, who, apparently, knows a bit about bars around central Tokyo.
So, first stop was What the Dicken's? in Ebisu. Personally I like the Dickens. It's big, it's dark and it serves decent enough beer in pints rather than odd Japanese glass sizes (and, interestingly, it is housed in a building that was, once, the Tokyo HQ of the Aum Shinrikyu cult that did the subway gas attack). Anyway we pitched up there at about 8 and tucked into a few pints and some of their rather good food. Drinking games followed in which Shigetaka, a japanese computer person of reasonable english ability outperformed a number of native english speakers (though not yours truly), including one Australian female known for her ability with the bottle (though not, now, her ability with Australian drinking games). From here it was to Enjoy! House in Ebisu we decamped. This is a crushed-velvet 70s heaven that was, strangely, empty on a Friday night. But is was pleasant, in a kitsch way, and a few more drinks (back to strange Japanese glass sizes) were downed.
So far so good. Then the first hitch - someone else was on the way to meet us and so we had to stop and wait, outside Wendy's for them firstly to arrive, and then for them to buy something to eat. With hindsight we should have gone back to Enjoy! House and waited there, but no, it was only for a few moments after all. Personally I am of a mind that you are either there for the start of a pub crawl, or the end, but let's have none of this buggering about waiting for people in the middle, eh?
30 minutes later we set off for the next place. I can't remember the name as, once inside, waiter chap said something along the lines of "8 of you, no chance". Ok, no problem, off to Daikanyama where there about 3 bars we are going to visit. Stroll stroll stroll and pitch up at a place called '4'. I was first in with another chap - once again "2 no problem, 8? You must be joking!" It was a small place, fair enough. You can guess what happened at the other 2 bars...
OK, rapidly sobering up, we'll head to "Soft" in Shibuya, which is in the basemant of some building. Get there, down the stairs, looks promising as there's no queue outside. Open the door of the "contemporary british pub" and we are assaulted by wailing. Peering around the door we see, on stage, a woman, some hitech looking AV stuff, lots and video screens. The "contemporary british pub" is an all white inside affair with red vinyl accoutrements and is having an evening of performance art - weird wailing woman with video, or somesuch nonsense. That'll be two grand door charge to you, thanks very much...
So, moving off we "must be able to get a drink at Bar Aoyama, they're always open" says Chris. The entrance to Bar Aoyama is a three inch steel door set into a concrete embankment on the busy Roppongi-dori. Apparently it is a bit of a rock music dive (fine by me, but Chris is a techno person) which lets in anyone and everyone. Except, of course, 8 wanderers who have now not had a drink for around an hour and a half and some of whom are getting testier by the minute. It wasn't as if this place turned us away, we couldn't even open the door...
And finally, we ended up at the Pink Cow in Shibuya. Thank god that it a) was open b)was pretty empty and c) had a good sense of humour because as soon as we turned up everyone headed to the toilet. By this time it was nearly 11 so a couple of swift pints and then head off to get the last train home, which I just managed to do but was cutting it very fine - indeed, had the pub crawl been more successful and I been more drunk, I probably would have given up and got a taxi from Ikebukuro, but being relatively sober I could actually work out how to get home using the trains. Also, as this was the last train it was absolutely packed, as only a train in Tokyo can be, and this inward pressure on my body was matched by an outward pressure in my bladder which wasn't helped by the queue for the bogs at Kawaguchi station.
In the end it was all crawl and not enough bleeding pub!
Next time Chris is not allowed to organise this. His excuse was that he had done a 'dry' run a month or two before and it was fine, but that was with only 2 people so of course it would be ok. Also, with the benefit of hindsight, it is easy to see - last weekend before christmas, well that's always going to be busy and, don't forget (though we did) it was winter bonus day, so not only did we have to contend with the usual Friday night revellers, also Japan Inc. Salaryman was spending his bit of the bonus before his wife got her hands on it. Ah well, better luck next time.
This led into Sunday, which was another christmas party, this time a company sponsored one. In keeping with the spirit of the season we went to a Hawaiian/Polynesian bar called Tiki Tiki in Shinjuku. This place was an odd mix, which is pretty much how you can describe most bars in tokyo, as we had Polynesian decor, grass skirted Japanese waitresses, french red wine, chinese (i think) food and a bunch of English people - in the next door room to ours there was a wedding reception with bingo! Prior to going here a couple of us had met up in the Dubliners (surprisingly an Irish bar) for a few and we retired there after our 2-3 hour all you can eat and drink extravaganza had finished. It was after this that I waddled/staggered home and ended up playing backgammon with big p until 2am - three quarters cut and unable to focus properly on the playing board. The score was indeed 10-5 but, interestingly, whilst big p was sober heading towards drunk he beat me 10-0, but by the time he arrived in the same state as me, I won 0-5. Food for thought there, I think.
Then on Monday it was leaving drinks for Helen, who is off to have a baby in February and from whom I will be taking over next year whilst she is away on maternity leave. So, again in the spirit of the weekend, after (sort of) visiting various bars on Friday and Irish and Polynesian on Sunday, we went to a Mexican place for Margueitas (I have no idea about the spelling). And that was that, now christmas is here the drinking can really get started.
The weekend
Last weekend was a busy one, what with not studying but going out for various parties and the like. Friday, being the last official friday in the office, was designated 'Pub Crawl night' and was organised by computer and erstwhile Tokyo nightlife bon vivant Chris, who, apparently, knows a bit about bars around central Tokyo.
So, first stop was What the Dicken's? in Ebisu. Personally I like the Dickens. It's big, it's dark and it serves decent enough beer in pints rather than odd Japanese glass sizes (and, interestingly, it is housed in a building that was, once, the Tokyo HQ of the Aum Shinrikyu cult that did the subway gas attack). Anyway we pitched up there at about 8 and tucked into a few pints and some of their rather good food. Drinking games followed in which Shigetaka, a japanese computer person of reasonable english ability outperformed a number of native english speakers (though not yours truly), including one Australian female known for her ability with the bottle (though not, now, her ability with Australian drinking games). From here it was to Enjoy! House in Ebisu we decamped. This is a crushed-velvet 70s heaven that was, strangely, empty on a Friday night. But is was pleasant, in a kitsch way, and a few more drinks (back to strange Japanese glass sizes) were downed.
So far so good. Then the first hitch - someone else was on the way to meet us and so we had to stop and wait, outside Wendy's for them firstly to arrive, and then for them to buy something to eat. With hindsight we should have gone back to Enjoy! House and waited there, but no, it was only for a few moments after all. Personally I am of a mind that you are either there for the start of a pub crawl, or the end, but let's have none of this buggering about waiting for people in the middle, eh?
30 minutes later we set off for the next place. I can't remember the name as, once inside, waiter chap said something along the lines of "8 of you, no chance". Ok, no problem, off to Daikanyama where there about 3 bars we are going to visit. Stroll stroll stroll and pitch up at a place called '4'. I was first in with another chap - once again "2 no problem, 8? You must be joking!" It was a small place, fair enough. You can guess what happened at the other 2 bars...
OK, rapidly sobering up, we'll head to "Soft" in Shibuya, which is in the basemant of some building. Get there, down the stairs, looks promising as there's no queue outside. Open the door of the "contemporary british pub" and we are assaulted by wailing. Peering around the door we see, on stage, a woman, some hitech looking AV stuff, lots and video screens. The "contemporary british pub" is an all white inside affair with red vinyl accoutrements and is having an evening of performance art - weird wailing woman with video, or somesuch nonsense. That'll be two grand door charge to you, thanks very much...
So, moving off we "must be able to get a drink at Bar Aoyama, they're always open" says Chris. The entrance to Bar Aoyama is a three inch steel door set into a concrete embankment on the busy Roppongi-dori. Apparently it is a bit of a rock music dive (fine by me, but Chris is a techno person) which lets in anyone and everyone. Except, of course, 8 wanderers who have now not had a drink for around an hour and a half and some of whom are getting testier by the minute. It wasn't as if this place turned us away, we couldn't even open the door...
And finally, we ended up at the Pink Cow in Shibuya. Thank god that it a) was open b)was pretty empty and c) had a good sense of humour because as soon as we turned up everyone headed to the toilet. By this time it was nearly 11 so a couple of swift pints and then head off to get the last train home, which I just managed to do but was cutting it very fine - indeed, had the pub crawl been more successful and I been more drunk, I probably would have given up and got a taxi from Ikebukuro, but being relatively sober I could actually work out how to get home using the trains. Also, as this was the last train it was absolutely packed, as only a train in Tokyo can be, and this inward pressure on my body was matched by an outward pressure in my bladder which wasn't helped by the queue for the bogs at Kawaguchi station.
In the end it was all crawl and not enough bleeding pub!
Next time Chris is not allowed to organise this. His excuse was that he had done a 'dry' run a month or two before and it was fine, but that was with only 2 people so of course it would be ok. Also, with the benefit of hindsight, it is easy to see - last weekend before christmas, well that's always going to be busy and, don't forget (though we did) it was winter bonus day, so not only did we have to contend with the usual Friday night revellers, also Japan Inc. Salaryman was spending his bit of the bonus before his wife got her hands on it. Ah well, better luck next time.
This led into Sunday, which was another christmas party, this time a company sponsored one. In keeping with the spirit of the season we went to a Hawaiian/Polynesian bar called Tiki Tiki in Shinjuku. This place was an odd mix, which is pretty much how you can describe most bars in tokyo, as we had Polynesian decor, grass skirted Japanese waitresses, french red wine, chinese (i think) food and a bunch of English people - in the next door room to ours there was a wedding reception with bingo! Prior to going here a couple of us had met up in the Dubliners (surprisingly an Irish bar) for a few and we retired there after our 2-3 hour all you can eat and drink extravaganza had finished. It was after this that I waddled/staggered home and ended up playing backgammon with big p until 2am - three quarters cut and unable to focus properly on the playing board. The score was indeed 10-5 but, interestingly, whilst big p was sober heading towards drunk he beat me 10-0, but by the time he arrived in the same state as me, I won 0-5. Food for thought there, I think.
Then on Monday it was leaving drinks for Helen, who is off to have a baby in February and from whom I will be taking over next year whilst she is away on maternity leave. So, again in the spirit of the weekend, after (sort of) visiting various bars on Friday and Irish and Polynesian on Sunday, we went to a Mexican place for Margueitas (I have no idea about the spelling). And that was that, now christmas is here the drinking can really get started.
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