The mystery beverage option on a vending machine. Yeah.

Doing work.

Announcing at Miyako Strongman Triathlon.

NOTICE

I just read an entire article in a Japanese newspaper for the first time. Movin' on up...

Ah...WORTHLESS

I guess this is what happens to most blogs. The writer starts out strong enough, but slowly and surely the time between each post lengthens until all activity has utterly fled the page.

I think this can be avoided. Here's my offer:

If you'll tolerate my posts not being in chronological order at all, then I'll do my best-- nay-- guarantee that this thing will go on until it is one year old.

Anyway

I usually teach junior high school, but recently I've been deployed to an elementary school. I go there once a week and, unlike junior high school where I work with JTEs, I pretty much run the show. I decide what the kids learn (things that amuse me) and how they learn it (rowdy games, no writing).

It's a fun time. It's also more work.

Anyway, I like my students, and most of them like me well enough, but the fourth grade class at this school is the "ZT IS RAD TO THE POWER OF SICK" club. They think I'm the shit-- fucking awesome-- the tightest MF-er on the planet-- the bee's knees.

I did something right with these kids when I first met them. I don't remember what that was, but I do know that it has led us to a point where they turn cartwheels when I show up.

Hey, who doesn't enjoy being liked?

I try to return the favor by being a good sport. I amuse them by making dumb faces my father taught me, doing the old broken arm illusion (I was going to embed a link to explain, but I can't find an example of it on the internet), and letting them leap on to my back from higher perches.

Ninja children.

Anyway, I got to eat lunch with my crew today. Little did I know that we were in for a manzai lunch.

Manzai, as I understand it, is a form of Japanese stand up comedy. It frequently appears on the TV variety shows. It usually consists of two comedians, one of whom is the 'straight man' while the other is the goofier one. Hilarity ensues as the straight man berates the goofy one and is ultimately embarassed or otherwise comically defeated by the latter.

The plan was to eat lunch and then send a few students to the front of the class to act like fools for everyone's dining enjoyment. But as soon as I finished my Harajuku Banana Chocolate Dog (it's like an eclair) I was yanked to the front and ordered to dance.

I was going to embark upon a lengthy socio-policial protest against being cast as a English-teaching gaijin clown, but my ears were greeted by the pleasant sounds of an Okinawan folk song (reworked for school children) pouring out of the intercom system.

I really wanted to dance.

I glanced at my backup dancers waiting behind me and, without warning, attempted everything that white men not named Justin Timberlake should never try.

Of course, the class loved it. But I could have done anything. I was glad I did something.

Anyway, it was a pretty rocking time even though the manzai turned out to be a 'Get ZT to Dance - Noontime Special.' Man, these kids are WIN. Hell, I just added yet another aspect to the ongoing 'ZT IS AWESOME TO FOURTH GRADERS BECAUSE...' list:

1. He is super-strong-- he can lift a 9 year old with each arm and retain mobility with four attached to his back.

2. He is a great musician because he can play the guitar and the benjo (toilet). What's a banjo?

3. He is the best soccer player in Miyako and fast as lightning because he raced Taiga and Taiga's the fastest boy in Miyako and he won when they raced even when they raced four times and Zakku-sensei was tired and we gave everyone a 30m head start but not Zakku-sensei.

4. His monkey and fish faces are hilarious, and the swinging arm trick is endlessly amusing.

5. We get to scream like chimpanzees during English class.

And now...

6. He can dance really well, like Justin Timberlake.

O-HISASHIBURI

I've been pretty lame at updating lately.  Here's what's news (new's):

We've been going at diving pretty hard recently, which is great.  So have the sea snakes.  two Sundays ago my buddy and I counted 12 snakes over the course of a short 30 minute dive.  As I read when I was researching them, these Colubrine sea kraits are indeed quite docile.  New Caledonian children play with them and they are unaggressive toward divers.  They are a curious sort that are fun to observe swimming around and surfacing for air.

And their venom is 15 times more potent than that of the king cobra.  Cheers.

The previous Friday I spotted a reef shark of some sort.  Couldn't tell what it was exactly.   Not too large, however-- perhaps only 1.5 m or so.  Didn't hang around.

I've taken up spearfishing as well.  Like most things new to me here on Miyako, I experience painful disappointment with this activity because of my inability to do things well.  But on this past outing I managed to jump a nice-sized parrotfish that was preoccupied with eating something on the reef.  I landed what appeared to be an ideal hit-- straight into the gill area-- and pinned the fish to the rocks.  It was a tough catch with a pole spear because of the depth of the water, and I was very pleased with myself.  As images of tempura danced through my head, the parrotfish thrashed about and managed to tear its own body apart off of the spear and dash into a hole.  I was pissed.  I think fishing is great, but, like most people, I don't particularly enjoy killing or causing animals grief unless I am going to eat them; I'm not there just to ruin some fish's day.  Damn.

On that same dive I reached a depth of 11.9 m.  That's a new high score. 

Miyako in NYTimes

The article is a year old, but it is cool to see it anyway.

Diluvian Tales: Snakes in Miyako

There aren't any. While other Ryukyu islands (Ishigaki, Iriomote, Okinawa, etc.) do have snakes, Miyako doesn't. Sources say that relative sea levels were higher in previous eras and much area of the islands was previously underwater. Miyako, being the geographical oddity that it is (it is extremely flat), was likely entirely submerged while the higher elevations of other islands remained above the water. Snakes (and presumably other animals) found refuge from the sea there, but no such purchase was to be found in Miyako.

However, we still have sea snakes. And they sure are curious about humans in the water.

EDIT: Apparently there are land snakes on the island. And a few sea snakes pursued us in the water today (13 MAR).

A Post for Posting's Sake

Hey, it's your boy on this island of the southern East China Sea.  I'm not doing much right now-- it's been a slow day at school-- but I am getting a fair bit of studying done.  My goal is to pass the second level Japanese language proficiency test this year (this summer at the earliest), so I've got plenty of preparation to do.  I found a few good study books (here’s one) and am having a go at it.  About this particular book, though: I am startled at how well it fits my current Japanese ability.  While the entire book is written in Japanese, each of the 173 individual grammar points is followed by an explanation that is concise and straightforward.  That is, I'm not having to learn new grammar to simply read the provided explanations of new grammar.  There is plenty of kanji, but it is accompanied by plenty of furigana.  As I study the grammar I record any new words I encounter, so it is a pretty decent way to study, I figure.

People I've talked to recently have probably heard me gloat about how warm it is here.  It is warm here.  However, today is a bit cloudy and cool.  Being an island, it's got some rapidly changing weather patterns.  That smells oxymoronic.  Anyway, you never know what's going to happen over the course of the meterological day, especially in the off months (i.e., not the 8 months of summer and not the 1 month of winter).  I should have taken the motorcycle to school today, but I didn't, fooled as I was by the gray skies.

Fun fact: I buy most of my study supplies at the convenience store.  Here is where I launch into an account of how convenience stores in Japan are different from those in the States.  First, the ones in Japan are usually well-kept.  They are not usually paired with gas stations.  You can pay your bills at them.  They also feature an assortment of foods that I hesistate to call fresh, but may actually be so (if you've ever been to Wal Mart or Kroger and seen those prepared and date-stamped deli items you have a good idea of what is found at these convienience stores).  You'll still get fat and die if you eat conbini (Japanese term for the stores) food all the time, but it is probably still better than Joyfull.  Anyway, the conbini also have tons of other quality convenience merchandise, including, namely, one of my favorite brands, 無印良品 (mujirushiryouhin -- 'no mark/label/brand quality goods').

Say it.  mujirushiryouhin.  moo-jee-roo-shee-rr-yoh-heen.  Again.  

mujirushiryouhin

I like how my made-up transliteration is more difficult to digest than the proper romaaji spelling (italics).  It helped not at all.

One more time: mujirushiryouhin.  It's fun.  It's also a line of clean, elegant, and reasonably priced products for your body, home, and office.  I like their writing elements and use them exclusively.  With the matching aluminum pen case.  Exquisite.  My notes explode with vibrant color.

You know, there are many words I still can't pronounce correctly.  For example, I still can't properly say 論理学 (ronrigaku - 'logic as a study').  Yeah, esoteric, I know.  But in my line of work, it's plum(b) necessary.  As a philosophy major, you never know when you'll have to justify your chosen line of study to some assailant in a foreign language-- when you do, you need every possible asset.

I break out ronrigaku whenever I have to get into it with someone.  It's a gamble, though: I typically end up saying something on a spectrum between 'lonely-gah-koo' (very sad) and 'rr-ohn-ree-gah-koo' (mentally impeded), preferably tending toward either extreme.  This leads the assailant to dismiss me as a blathering idiot and the issue, from his perspective, is settled.  Blathering idiots cannot hope to justify themselves, after all.  Afterwards I usually continue attempting to say the word (to myself).  This exacerbates others' perceptions of me.

I'm about to call it a day, but first I must say that I really like what I'm doing here.  The workdays afford me enough time to do some language study (which makes me a better teacher and co-worker), and the teaching itself is enjoyable far more often than not.  It's a great learning opportunity for both myself and the students, and I continue to have a lot of enthusiasm for it even through these grayer months.  The third year students are going to graduate in a few days, so I've got several ceremonies to attend.  I'll be back at ya shortly.  Peace.

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.