The other day,

someone asked me when I was going to leave this place.

Heh.

A Whale-like Voice

So, they (members of the local board of education, my employer) thought it would be super kokusaiteki, or an otherwise good idea, to have me play banjo (very exotic) during the intermission at this term's junior high school English storytelling contest. 

Here's the thing: they wanted a complete show featuring me, a set of songs, and singing.  

I'm a terrible singer.  My Most Excellent Friend Eli describes my voice as 'cetaceous.'  Yes, I pulled a fast one on someone in the JET Programme selection process: I don't have "excellent intonation, rhythm, pronunciation, and volume", or whatever is called for.  I sound like a whale, and though whales sing in their way, it is a style that is fairly inaccessible.  Like enka.*

Perhaps it is best described as not being entirely unlike the sound of a shitty practice amp whose bass knob is cranked up as the remaining tonal knobs are turned extremely off.  That is, it can sound loud and deep, yet it is  somehow inherently muffled.  It's been a blessing and a curse since my youth.  No, I take that back-- it's given me an unbelievable amount of shit.  Mostly in the form of my dad yelling at me for mumbling all the time.  And I can't sing.

So,

Clearly they had no idea what they were getting into.  Sure, sure, I can play a few crappy songs on my crappy banjo with my crappy technique, but asking this guy to sing is agressively reckless.  One could really sour the mood of the event by doing this sort of thing.  And it's a day for the children, you know.

Still I reluctantly accepted the task because, well, I had already done this sort of thing for one of my schools.  They had a schoolwide musical presentation in which I was called up to play "Country Roads."

Little did you know, all Japanese people are familiar with "Country Roads"; that is, KANTORII ROUDO(ZU).  It was a safe choice.

Anyway, I did it.  It was fine because the audience simply consisted of my students (who already know how cool I fail to be) and grandparents of said students.  I could have gone on stage and hula-hooped for 3 minutes and been met with applause.  It wasn't fine because someone surreptitiously shot a video and committed it to Digital Versatile Disc (DVD).  Not that anyone has or will ever watch it-- it's probably sitting in a cabinet at the school.  I'm still uneasy.

The board of education was aware of this whole affair.  I decided it would be socially costly, if not rude, to decline their request for me to play, regardless of how much of an ass I anticipated making of myself.

With the actual contest weeks away, I had ample time to practice up and prepare a set list.  So I waited until the day before the show to do all of that.

I decided to break out the guitar for one of the songs, Old Crow Medicine Show's "Big Time in the Jungle."  No demanding singing there, and I like the song.  On the banjo front, I readied "Rocky Top" (feebly reppin' for TN) and KANTORII ROUDO (why waste time learning a new song?). 

Despite the changes and my newfound, cleaving decisiveness about what to play, I became extremely nervous as the performance approached.  Really nervous.  I made it a point to express my unease to every person I encountered regardless of whether the conversational context suited it.  I felt like hadn't prepared well enough.  Which I hadn't.

When I finished teaching that day, I decided to do what little practice I could manage.  Half-panicking, I went outside and proceeded to go through the material.

It didn't take long for students to start gathering around me to listen.  They emerged gradually, two or so at a time.  This was fantastic because it helped me get used to the idea of performing in front of lots of people.  Eventually the resident third year (our 9th grade) rockabilly guitar dude came up.  I gave him the guitar and asked him whether he knew KANTORII ROUDO.

As if there were any question about the matter. 

We jammed on that shit for 10 minutes.  Everyone joined in and sang Engrish on the chorus, and I held the verses together while turning out some decent banjo rolls.

Rocking out with the students really turned my world around.  I felt all genki and like myself again.  This isn't meant to imply that I thought I could play the songs better-- it was just that I cared less about whether I sounded good and cared more about rocking.  So, lots of positive energy was received at that moment, and it got me psyched up for the performance.  As for the performance itself, I don't know how good it sounded, but at least I didn't forget any lyrics.  One of my teachers stepped up and played guitar on KANTORII ROUDO (because everyone knows...) as I did my thing.  I even did an extra song when the intermission ended up running longer than expected.  Anyway, I'm not sure that I could have done it without kicking it with the students first.  

Thanks.

* ZING, JAPAN!  Or not.

Potentially unsatisfying

But really I can only take one prune at a time, regardless of whether it is individually wrapped.

Onion-salt rice with pork and coconut chicken curry

This plus salads and drinks for less than 2000 yen.

Laid Back Cafe

Cafe near my place

I like the style ofthis place.

A principal gets the students jazzed up for an ekiden.

I can write from my phone now.

Grand.

Non-sequiturs and 28 JAN 2009

The other day we were visited by a pair of pianists from Okinawa.  Actually, they are sisters and are originally from Miyako, and while back on the island they decided to drop in at a few schools and play some piano for the students. 

Anyway, after several songs they called up volunteers one at a time to play alongside them at the piano.  The collective mind of the auditorium's occupants (except that of myself-- the slot in my brain for the Nippon Mental Net Transponder is greedily occupied by an All-American Rugged Individuality Unit) pushed a certain sannensei to the front as the first victim.  He played a single repeating, droning note for a bit as one of the professional pianists played a complex pattern.  He soon returned to his seat and the show went on.

After the recital, I asked the student (in Japanese) what he thought about the experience.  He turned and said "Florida, yes, and California."

Sorry.  What?

I stumbled away in hopeless confusion.  

Actually, I'm really not confused about this.  Many students don't actually listen to what I am asking (whether it is Japanese or English) and simply respond with whatever English words pop into their heads at the moment.  Don't get me wrong-- they have absolutely zero regard for meaning, so whatever shit they come up with usually makes me laugh.  But it's kind of frustrating too.  So, as for me, hopeless, yes, but not confused.  It's another reason to never put any effort into connecting with the kids at this school.  

But I have to.

-=-=-=-=- For those who are interested, asking 'Was it fun?' (TANOSHIKATTA? 楽しかった？) in Japanese sounds nothing like any English phrase I am aware of, much less any phrase referencing coastal states.

Unique Conversations: Taxi

It would be as much of a mistake to say that people in Miyako are friendly as it would be to say that they aren't, but I've had a few good, unexpected experiences.

I took a taxi to the airport last month.  Little did I know that I would not only be taken to my destination, but to the wonderful and mysterious world of The Origins of the Miyako Language. 

Miyako Language?  Yeah, it is different from Japanese.  And by different, I mean entirely unlike Japanese.

Here are a few examples (with ample mistakes, I'd expect):

ミドゥーン (miduun) means 彼女 (kanojo), or 'girlfriend'

ンミャーチ (nmyaachi) means ようこそ (yokoso), or 'welcome'

ンギャマス (ngyamasu) means だまれ! (damare), or 'shut up'

アッチャンカイ (acchankai) means 'see you later/bye/etc.'

バタゴゴ (batagogo) means 'I'm full (stomach).'

People interested in Japanese as an elegant language with clean, precise sounds (as I was) should steer clear of Miyako.  It's amusing but not pretty.  It has grown on me, but it still sounds like a mess and is unintelligible to mainland Japanese.  Further, as the taxi driver explained, there are still many problems regarding the transliteration of Miyako words into Japanese characters.

Yes.

Little did I know, the taxi driver had a wealth of information regarding the origins of the Miyako language.  As we made our way to the airport, I explained that I came to Japan largely because I wanted to learn the language, to which he replied 'Yes, but what do you think of the Miyako dialect?'  I immediately saw an education in the making.

APPARENTLY the Miyako language has many similarities to Satsuma Japanese, though the direction of this relationship was unknown to the driver.  He also explained to me how it is difficult to write some Miyako family names in Japanese kanji because of the disparity between the sounds used in Miyako and the sounds that are available in Japanese.

I was taking notes.  The taxi had became a lecture hall.

Naturally, I was reluctant to leave when we arrived at the airport.  These days it is difficult enough to hear interesting thoughts from anyone, and hearing accessible thoughts about Japan/Miyako from an actual local person is doubly so.  When I met my crew at the airport I explained what happened.  

"You heard all of this from a taxi driver?" they asked.  

Word.