21 December 2008

Unique Conversation: Park

I often wash my bike at a park just outside of my side of town.

Allow me to explain.

Shortly after I purchased the bike I started looking for places to wash it. I used a water source at one of the gas stations a few times (thank you to the folks at Eneos), but it was often occupied and the hose was broken. Zipping around the island one day, I came upon a rarely-used park that had a spigot. Since then, that is where I have been washing the bike. Although I have sighted a self-service car wash-type thing in the city, I continue to use the park because the scenery is pleasant.

I also see random people there.

Sometimes when I roll up there is a man in a jumpsuit sleeping on the table under a nearby pavillion. I don't talk to him because it is clear that he too enjoys the serenity of the park and desperately needs rest after working all night. I also don't talk to the older ladies who are exercising-- the sight of a foreigner washing a motorcycle in a park is aggressively suspect, like a noontime drug deal. The younger people who come to the park merely sit in their vehicles, living the the concept of 'park' with sincere and literal dedication.

The guy who brought his dog to the park yesterday, however, needed to know what was going on, including:
(1) The motorcycle's displacement
(2) My general attitude toward the weather in Miyako
(3) Whether I had to take a test to become an English teacher in Japan

To be fair, he was just making an effort to talk to the foreigner-- the very action that motivated me to start writing this. I am appreciative. I should also note that in return for his friendliness I shared with him such Gems of Brilliant Insight as:
(1) Although it is warm in Miyako, I wear a jacket when I ride the motorcycle.
(2) Miyako doesn't have interstate highways, you know.
(3) Your dog, which looks to be the largest dog in Miyako, causes me to be nostalgic about my home in Tennessee.

My Japanese is spectacular.

Really, light conversations make my day. Ours was broken up by me waxing the bike and him doing stretches in anticipation for something and 'rassling the dog. The dog, a golden retriever of age 5, smartly swiped the yellow towel from my pocket and jauntily pranced about. How adorable.

But, about this dude, he was totally a Miyako person. That is, not a mainlander. I think this mostly because I couldn't understand what he was saying most of the time. Nevertheless, the meaning came through, and this supports something I have been thinking about communication (the general topic and activity) for some time: namely, an idea that the most crucial part of communication is not vocabulary or technical skill but the effort or will to communicate. Maybe there is something nonverbal going on. I have other empirical evidence that is related, but I'll save that for later. Peace.

Nifty Shirt

I received a package from the States the other day. Inside it was nothing less than The Greatest Shirt Ever Manufactured. You ask how I know this-- features:
- Fleece inside/..hhrrrmmm.... non-fleece outside HUZZAH
- Nifty holes for one's thumbs in the event that you want to cover your palms and backs of hands but not your fingers
- Zip collar
- Left shoulder pocket that is a bitch to use but is totally badass. I pulled my cellphone out of it in class and students were like 'KAKKOII' (cool/stylish/good form/totally badass).
- Fits me perfectly
- Green
- From REI

I wish I had three of them because they are so aggressively useful. I can wear it when at work, adventuring in the wilderness, engaging in urban parkour, or playing Fallout 3. Holy crap. And I'll put things in the pocket just because.

It's simple really...

We were about to jump in the water the other day when an ancient man (from Miyako) approached us to see what sort of things we were up to.

He seated himself where the hatch opens at the back of my friend's car and began talking unintelligibly, though at length, about generalities. I mentioned that I like Miyako and enjoy working as an English teacher, and I joked that the students are frightening. He recommended that I strike the students when they are insolent.

I'm glad I don't deal with discipline in the classroom.

26 November 2008

Still doing that stuff

Hey, it's your boy here on this island.

It's finally starting to get a little cooler around here. Diving is still possible, but if this past weekend is any indication, I'm going to need a thicker wetsuit. I haven't been that cold since experiencing a morning in Fukuoka, which, by most accounts, is not cold.

Lately I've been spending a lot of time thinking about my post-Japan plans. This isn't to say that I don't have a sufficient incentive for staying on the program for a couple of years, but the things I want to do are of the sort that requires planning. This ALT gig via the JET Programme is a pretty good job, all things considered-- the pay is decent (not copious, but quite comfortable), I enjoy the work itself, work hours are highly agreeable, etc. At the same time, outside of Japanese language skills (which, for the most part, one needs to make a non-trivial effort to acquire-- it doesn't just 'happen' for most people just by being there), one doesn't get a whole lot of out of the experience. And, at the same time, one's given skills, such as actual teaching ability, capacity for writing, or technical/scientific skills, tend to atrophy. yabai

That sounds more cutting than I intended-- allow me to clarify. I am trying to describe (or simply elaborate for my own benefit) the real, practical skills that can be developed by being an ALT. I don't think that there are many, and I would love to be wrong. There is an appreciable case to be made (and one that I will be making, future employers) that what makes the experience worthwhile is the intercultural exchange-- namely, what you bring to the table (the table that is Japan, or another foreign country) as a cultural envoy and, more significantly, what happens to you as a result of being transplanted into another society. It seems that many people believe this ability to adapt to another culture is a valuable skill of sorts, believing that it is a hard thing to do.

You might be thiking 'So, ZT, what's the hangup? Why can't you sincerely appreciate this aspect of being an ALT?' The hangup is this: in light of what has brought me here, that whole experience, it is hard for me to consider 'adapting to another culture' to be a significant thing. I mean, I'm not the cosmopolitan child of a foreign service officer and I'm not a descendant of recently arrived immigrants. I've never 'summered in Europe' or colonized India while wearing khaki. I'm just a dude from the southeastern United States who, by most accounts, ought to be a rather...culturally insular sort. But, somewhere along the line I got this crazy idea that the meaning of life is to see the world, and now I'm going at it. It hasn't been all that tough. Cultural adaptation, for me, boils down to simply making a conscious effort to go with the flow-- you suspend everyday judgment, you stop having to be right. Practicing sincere philosophy helps with it. Sure, there are tough times, but I still have my guitar, Plato, and XBOX Live.

As I write this, it's becoming apparent that I want to do this cultural immersion stuff. I get a kick out of it. That's probably why it's not a big deal to me, or why I find it easy (USUALLY easy-- the East Asian disavowal of Western logic is...trying). I mean, it makes sense. Before coming out here, many of my friends said 'you're going WHERE to teach English?' (it's more a declaration of my recklessness than a question). Perhaps they say this because they simply have no desire to be elsewhere. That's cool. And I guess that is the sort of person you wouldn't be keen on sending overseas on behalf of your organization. Maybe I am of the sort you would send. Still, I'd like to have more practical skills than simply being able to live in a foreign country, and I'm not terribly keen on being an English teacher until I die (not that one learns much about education simply by being an ALT-- again, it's that non-trivial effort thing).

I guess the true test of my 'adaptive skill' would be me being sent somewhere I don't want to go, like Michigan. More exotically, I also don't want to go to wherever in Africa the tsetese fly is. That shit freaks me out.

Anyway, the significance of adapting to another culture and location is a discussion I'll continue to pursue. Also, it is fun to write when no one is grading my work. I can use excessive parentheticals with impunity.

09 November 2008

Snorkeling


We had a good dive this past Saturday. Early in the morning we headed out to a small beach next to the fishing harbor near the eastern cape. Visibility was excellent and the surface was extremely calm. With that, we were able to stay out for a long time and see a lot of good stuff. Watching a few sea turtles lazily glide around was the highlight of the morning. Maybe we'll see some sharks next time.

16 October 2008

The Downside of Motorcycling in Miyako


Perhaps you are a motorcyclist. Perhaps you are even a motorcyclist from the United States.

If so, I think you are going to understand what I am talking about. I resist speculation about countries I have yet to ride in, but I have good reason to believe that riders from countries that drive on the right hand side of the road will also know what I am talking about. But this has become quite the prologue-- what is it that I am talking about?

The US Motorcyclist Wave.

It might possibly be the finest, most simple greeting, gesture, or general expression I have had the pleasure of receiving (and giving) in my life. To be sure, I am generally a neophyte when it comes to bikes, and this undoubtedly makes my views rather...rosy. Hear me out.

However-- details, please.

The Scenario: Two motorcyclists on indeterminate machines (each having less than 4 wheels but more than 1 wheel [1]) approach each other via their respective oncoming lanes.
Action: We see the perspective of Biker 1-- riding in his right lane, he is able to free his hand from the left handlebar and reappropriate it to the necessary and honorable task of 'waving' [2] to the oncoming rider (coming from the forward left, mind you).
The events occur in the same fashion as Biker 2 (approaching from the opposite direction) reciprocates the gesture of motorcyclehood.
Outcome: Each rider, though confident in his individuality and responsibility regarding the quintessential self-determination of motorcycling, is mildly reassured by the fact that others, like himself, 'get it' in a world of cage drivers who generally believe that it is acceptable to eat, apply makeup, text message, watch TV, receive oral sex, compose essays, give oral sex, and listen to siren-drowning music behind tinted or curtained windows while driving.[3]

If you still don't understand how great this is, let me share with you a few aspects about the motorcycle wave that I particularly celebrate.

(1) You can count on it to occur. This is due to the fact that most riders think it is awesome. On the worst day of your life, after your dog licks up a quart of antifreeze and your 360 goes RROD and your best friend steals your woman and your life is generally fit for a country music song, you can rest assured that when riding your bike, another biker will wave to you. That is, as long as you encounter the biker before you are T-boned by a cage running a red light.

(2) The qualification for participation is straightforward. Ride a motorcycle, see note [1].

(3) It is easy. Control speed and direction with your right hand and let your left hand say 'What it do.' No, it isn't really a question in any significant sense. See note [2].

THE ISSUE
Miyako is a beautiful place in terms of scenery, but I do 'have problem.' Technically being subject to the traffic laws of a larger island nation called 'Japan' (it is to the north some distance), traffic in Miyako drives on the opposite side of the road (left). And while cars are constructed to accommodate this, the layout of motorcycles is the same as that of the United States (right hand throttle and brake and steer, left hand WAVE and clutch and steer).

Perhaps you can already see the problem. Recalling the above Scenario, we see that driving on the right side of the road is crucial to the waving process. It allows full view of the wavers' left hands. Given that bikes are configured the same way in Miyako as they are in the US, it is (painfully) evident that an easy wave is impossible. The left hand is tragically obscured as bikers pass each other on their respective right sides. End result: there is no biker to biker waving in Miyako.

Being a foreigner in Japan is an inherently lonely experience. But there is so much that foreigners can and should do to successfully overcome that feeling, and I have been rather upbeat about the issue. However, being unable to wave to fellow motorcyclists is a tough pill to swallow. An entire people is oblivious to the awesomeness and my rides are solipsistic.

POTENTIAL CONSOLATION
I am open to the possibility that, as a foreigner, I am somehow excluded or oblivious to nonverbal communication that occurs between native riders. I can live with that. Perhaps there is a subtle nod that occurs, difficult to observe at speed but there nonetheless. Also, full face helmets are rare-- most riders wear so-called jet helmets (3/4 helmet with a large face shield) or these goony brain buckets (optimally placed on the back of the head, top of helmet facing to the rear, protecting as little of the rider as possible). Maybe a dramatic wince or knotting of the eyebrows could signal rider fellowship.

Nevermind..forget that. I get that from grandmas when I go to the grocery store.

Some other time will write about the groups of 'buggies' piloted by tourists here on the island.



NOTES
[1] There are numerous cases to be made for exceptions. Common practice typically includes motorcyclists and trikes and excludes scooters. Given my current loneliness, however, I would be as willing to wave to someone on a Vespa as I would a tot on a Big Wheel ('tot'? Who says that?). Motorized unicycle? http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=HIa0q47CXsk
Yes. How could you resist waving? He better keep focused, though-- don't expect a response.
Segway? Of course not.

[2] The wave can't be a WAVE. Typically the hand, with outstretched fingers, is lowered down below the handlebar for two seconds or so. That's it. Awesome. It just has to look slightly irregular in order to indicate your acknowledgement.

[3] That was a John Stuart Mill sentence.

Curtained windows? Yeah, that is permitted here in Miyako. I don't know the legality, but it appears to be OK, de facto. Many women here are careful to avoid sun exposure. For example, are those desert nomads at the beach, swaddled in opaque layers? NO! Locals. You can see many cars here in which the driver's side windows are shrouded by a curtain. No, I don't mean a baby-in-carseat shade thing, I mean the real deal: curtain rod, valence, and everything. I'll let you make the call.

Image from http://rjq.jp/new/200405/22.html

28 September 2008

Imagining the Tenth Dimension: In all honesty, you don't have anything actually better to do than looking at this.

This may be old news for you in that it is 

nothing new.


Nonetheless, I find it irresistably interesting.  I had to go to the stormy coast and immerse myself in the bone-crushing waves in order to attain an experience of suitable viscerality to wash away the haunting influence of these ideas.  I'll be back for more.  Tonight as I am trying to get to sleep, most likely.

Videos on YouTube

http://jp.youtube.com/user/ztinmiyako

24 September 2008

I'm in trouble.

Today the office lady at school scolded me for drinking my milk while standing.

How rude/reckless/self-destructive/inconsiderate/unhealthly that was of me.

Had I only known beforehand...

A Fact to Share: Kids are Funny

Usually when we utter the phrase 'oh my God,' we are as conscious of the literal meanings of those individual words as we are conscious of the feeling we intend to convey by using the expression.  One properly and naturally emphasizes the 'God' part, i.e., "oh my GOD."  

My students, semantically carefree as they are with English, emphasize equally each word in the phrase to comic effect.  Actually, I lie.  They noticeably emphasize the 'OH' part.

OH my God.

OOHHHHH my God.

This is hilarious to me. 

It leaps from their conversations without warning, much like when you are watching Univision and the round man from Sabado Gigante crisply utters 'Charmin Ultra' or 'Quaker Oats' amidst a hypersonic barrage of television Spanish.  In flawless English no less.  It grabs your attention.

So, if I am saying that the students are unaware of the actual meaning of what they are saying, then what could it be that they think they are expressing?  Perhaps it is some form of distress.  However, it can't be anything serious.  Such matters are reserved for Japanese.  Instead 'OH my God' is heard during more lighthearted times, such as during my icebreaking games.  

We are passing a ball around, saying each others' names as we throw it.  The whole thing is being timed, so we are trying to finish the circuit as quickly as possible.  One student beams the ball at another: the receiver makes a valiant effort to catch it, leaping off a chair.  Alas, it is to no avail.

A voice somewhere says "Oh my God."

The students are giving self-introductions.  I am nervous as they are because I don't want to make the students nervous.  Japanese students operate in the following fashion, which I will illustrate by example.  If one of the first students says "My name is Ryuhei.  I like basketball.  I play piano.  Nice to meet you," you will find that nearly 45% of your class reveals that they too like basketball and play piano.  However, a student occasionally forgets the self-intro format and accidentally begins with 'Nice to meet you.'

OH my God.

Shortly before class begins, I find my students playing a sort of makeshift stickball game in the classroom.  A student strikes out.  A student hits the Wiffle ball out of the room.  I act as umpire and make some questionable calls.

OH my God.

Next time I will explain the intricacies of the term very woman.

13 September 2008

Orientation in Naha, Okinawa proper

Naha. Our nearest major city.

Higashi Hennazaki


This is the lighthouse at the eastern cape. Directly behind and to the left is a small fishing jetty and a beach that features the best snorkeling I have seen here so far.

On the East Coast

Without warning I forced the microvan on to the sidewalk along the road I was traveling. You can do these sorts of things in Japan because:

(1) it is normal to do so and

(2) the car fits neatly.

This shot was taken on my second day of driving in Japan.

Nishi Hennazaki

Once I have the Flickr account properly working I should be able to post more photos than this. In the meantime, enjoy this small view of the western cape of Miyako.

以上です。

03 September 2008

Go time.

I had been putting off the creation of this blog because, frankly, I had been hating on Japan pretty hardcore since my arrival. Now that morale has improved along with quality of life, I am pleased to inform you that I am in proper spirits for blogging (that is, providing that this blog remains

1. apolitical,
2. largely irrelevant, and
3. without the participation of those insightful minds who offer sage commentary on YouTube videos).

The reasons why I wanted to come out here in the first place are starting to come back to me, but this page is about photos.

以上です。

始め

Returning shortly.