Glory, glory

I've made it to Ryuo. I've met important people. Ridiculous things have happened.

The Yamanashi group took a bus this morning and headed to Kofu, the prefecture's capital. The ride was through some beautiful mountains, and I had some time to bond with Tiffany (a journalism and arts major from NorCal) and Irish Dave (he's Irish).

But flash forward for a second while I explain how I am even able to be posting this right now.

Mark (my predecessor) left a nice map in the apartment (more on this later), so I took it upon myself to walk to the "internet cafe." I found a curry restaurant along the way, and I sat down and ate curry. I walk in and say, "Sorry, I don't understand Japanese." The waitress says a lot, very quickly, and seats me. I find a picture of rice and curry that looks appetizing and I point to it. The waitress opens the menu and points at some random numbers, so I say "I don't understand" (in Japanese). She points at them again, and I say "OK" (in Japanese). The curry is delicious.

Here comes the fun part. I decide that saying "Do you understand English?" might be better than "I don't understand Japanese," as the latter could imply that I only speak some other Asian language. I say this to the clerk at the internet cafe, and she runs away. She brings back another clerk, who I assume speaks English. She certainly does not. A dance of limited vocabulary ensues, as she keeps saying "use" and "time," and I keep saying "yes" and "one hour." This goes nowhere. I start to consult my Japanese-English dictionary, and she flips through it to find the Japanese meanings of "use" and "time." This does not help. She keeps telling me prices while I keep saying OK, but apparently I am missing something. This goes on for roughly ten minutes. Finally, she runs to the computer and does a Yahoo search (do they not Google over here?) for Japanese-English translation.

This is what pops up:

"Sightseeing trip."

She points at it and says "Yes?"

I say "No." I really wonder what she put in there.

Next comes "It is near Yamanashi this?"

I say "Ryuo," which in hindsight is really stupid because that's where we both are. I thought maybe she wondered where I lived.

Finally, "Only this time, free for use" pops up on the screen. It's a short term fix because I might want to walk in here tomorrow. I decide to call my supervisor (more on Kagami sensei later) and have her translate over the phone. It turns out I needed to fill out an application with my name and address and show my passport. I heard the clerk say "passport" over the phone! Why didn't she didn't say it to me? It's all I needed!

Then again, it was totally worth it to see "Sightseeing trip" on the screen.

Let's take it back to the start. I think I just quoted Coldplay.

Kagami sensei was waiting for me at the Kofu station with a giant yellow sign that read "KEVIN." That's me. Kagami sensei is fluent in English, and she whisks me away for lunch. We go to a sushi place, and it's some of the best I've had. The sushi spirals around this long track in between all the booths, and you just grab what you want. If you place a special order (on a touch screen at your table), this toy bullet train shoots up to your table carrying the dish.

Kagami sensei has a son and two daughters, and her son seems to share all the same interests as me. He plays music, loves soccer, etc. Kagami sensei is very interested in my time as a music journalist, and she is extremely gracious that I express an interest in her son's music.

Next, we go to get my alien registration card, set up my bank account, and turn on the utilities in my apartment. This comes as no shock to me, but there is a LOT of paperwork involved. There are minute details with no room for error. What's funny is that even Kagami sensei is surprised by the amount of detail. I fill out the same form at the bank about four times, once because I didn't capitalize my entire name. I made an error on the year (it's year 19 according to the Japanese calendar), and I have to stamp my name next to the error. Yes, I have a stamp. I need to use it on everything. (Later, my English signature will make people laugh. I do not know why.)

We head over to the school, where I'm delighted to see a huge soccer field out front. There is a game or practice going on (there are no fans yet full uniforms).

We enter the teacher's room, and the teachers give me a passing glance. Kagami sensei introduces me, and the looks are priceless. This guy speaks English?, they seem to say. One teacher says something to Kagami sensei, and she says to me: Do you know "ni hao?" I certainly do. It means hello.

I meet the headmaster, who gives off this almost palpable sense of honor. They plan for when I will meet with the teachers more formally. We visit another room where I fill out some more paperwork. I am served cold tea (didn't know this was a thing here) and given a school calendar. Everyone seems incredibly nice and happy to meet me. The attitude is very jovial.

Ah, now the apartment. It's gorgeous. There's one room with a traditional mat (which feels amazing on your feet), a living area, and a large kitchen/eating area. The apartment feels very large since all the rooms are connected by sliding doors. I have an outdoor deck where I can hang my clothes. When you flush the toilet, the tank fills up from above/outside so you can save water by washing your hands right there!

The utilities man shows up, and he's overly sincere. I figure utilities workers are simply nicer in Japan, but Kagami sensei later mentions how uncommon it is. She jokes that he was almost like a woman!

Lastly, I got a cell phone. This is a ridiculous cell phone. It was free. I don't think I will ever understand all the features on it. If this phone could talk (by itself, smartass), it would be like, "Whaddup, iPhone. You lame." Kagami sensei jokes that we can change my plan to a family one when I get a girlfriend or wife. She's funny. I like her.

Tomorrow, I will hopefully find out how to use the train to get to school.

Some closing remarks

I'm leaving Tokyo today, and I'm headed for my host institution in the Yamanashi prefecture by bus. Here are a few things you should know:

1. Last night, the Yamanashi group went out for dinner and karaoke. I literally made it "Suntory time," and I got my whiskey on. There is no tipping in Japan, so the waiters (at least last night) can pull some Houdini action. In the karaoke rooms, there is a phone to order drinks. There was a max per order of four beers, but the waiters seemed to both abide by and break this rule. Remember Sugar Ray? We sang Sugar Ray.

2. The mirror in the bathroom is magical. When you take a hot shower and steam it up, there is a section of the mirror that does not fog. I can look at myself as I exit the shower. Thanks, Japan.

3. The toilet handle is not connected to the toilet. Is the entire bathroom magical?

4. I will miss the ATLiens I have come to know over the past few days. Mr. Tyler (co-conspiritor from the ATL group), we must represent in the nasty 'Nashi.

5. It might be a while before I have consistent internet action again. I apologize for the inconvenience, but please stay tuned.

Lost in Shinjuku

Simumasen, Keio Plaza Hotel wa doko desu ka?

This is a sentence that can save your life. Figuratively speaking, of course. Then again, it’s not as if I was gonna actually say it. Not until we were really (that’s an English word, italicized for emphasis) lost. You see, even a million miles from home (figurative speaking, of course), men cannot ask for directions. And I wasn’t going to do it despite the torrential rain, the blinded eyes (precipitation + glasses = suck), and general sense of ‘where are we?’ among the group. Anna finally asked at a point when we were caddy-corner from the hotel. That’s always how it is, no?

Let’s rewind for a moment: Eight Americans enter the HUB English Pub in Shinjuku. They attempt to cram into a half booth/half seat section, and they almost succeed. They are asked to move to a different area with more room because, and I’m paraphrasing, “your seating would make it inconvenient for the girl next to you to get up.” Ironically, I love this sentiment. After the Americans move, they order four liters of beer. The beer is either Kirin Lager or the house brew. The Americans do not know. The beer will cost ¥5,400, about $54, and the Americans will try to figure out if this is a good deal or not. The Americans do not succeed. There’s too much metric/standard, yen/dollar conversion involved. Instead, they are wowed by the presentation; the liters arrive in plastic, graduated cylinders. The Americans can see exactly how many mL they are pouring, if they were into that sort of thing. Drinks are poured (never for yourself, as is the custom), and people bond.

Now back to first person: I’m sitting off to the side with Anna and Jason, a guy who spent the last few years in Bolivia in the Peace Corps teaching business practices. He went to teach English, but that somehow turned into business practices. The flat panel TVs first show a Japan vs. Kuwait basketball game. Japan is winning by a lot. Later, the programming will switch to soccer juggling tricks. A man climbs a power line in order to juggle a ball. I love this sentiment.

A red, fruity drink arrives for Caitlin at the next table. We all applaud, thinking it’s from a Japanese man with a crush. Caitlin is a pretty blonde, and we think that this is the type of thing that happens in Tokyo. We are all let down when we later realize it is from another JET. Damn Americans. Wait, I think he was British.

The toilet has two different directions you can flush. There’s “Large” and “Small.” This makes me laugh… while I pee.

We leave the bar around midnight, and we try to find another place to go. We have a tiny map, yet we can’t quite find where we are. There is no star that says ‘you are here.’ We ask a few different people for help, and the reactions are great. Mostly, there’s a lot of pointing at the map and laughing. Then there's pointing in a direction and more laughing. Many people stop to help, but to no avail. There is a white man who offers help in perfect English, and for some reason, we brush him off. This makes me laugh… while I stand in the pouring rain.

Everything in its right place

The ship has landed. After roughly 14 hours and a connection in Minneapolis, I’ve made it to Japan.

I’m currently in my hotel room, and it’s 2:41 AM local time. That means it’s 1:41 PM in my mind and body. I am typing in a dark room. Drew, one of my two roommates, is also typing. He is in the same room, so it is also dark for him. Our other roommate, Cody, is sleeping. About ten minutes ago, Cody said he couldn’t sleep. I have not known Cody for long, but it seems he is a liar.

As I previously posted about a slew of lasts, I will now mention some fabulous firsts.

First album played in Japan while on the bus from Narita Airport to Keio Plaza Hotel in Shinjuku, Tokyo: Radiohead’s Kid A. “Yesterday, I woke up sucking a lemon,” Thom Yorke sang to me. Hey, Thom. You’re right, if you are somehow subtly suggesting that leaving America had a certain sour taste to it. But I’m OK, Thom. Dad was there. The Snows were there. I’ve made it to Japan. I drank 7-UP on the plane.

First meal in Japan: Udon noodles. A small group of Atlantans wandered around the pleasantly small streets near the hotel to find food. There were neon lights and neoner lights. There was severe trepidation in deciding on a spot to eat, which does not bode well for our collective, near futures as teachers. Following the crowd, it turned out, just led to long lines comprised of other future teachers. At last, we found a restaurant with a name I’ll never know, and we ordered by putting money into a vending machine. There are pictures of the food outside each restaurant, and you get a ticket to hand to the cook when you’ve decided what to eat. It felt nice to slide a 1,000 yen (≈10 dollar) bill into the slot, and the machine did not spit the bill out the way it has happened countless times in America. I do not know if this is some marvel of Japanese technology. It’s possible I just had a crisp bill.

First acquaintances: Here’s a quick run-down of the major movers and shakers.

Matt: I sat next to him on the flight from Atlanta to Minneapolis, and the conversation quickly picked up when we discovered a shared interest in indie rock. He's quite a fan of Magnet, so we obviously, inevitably dissected the greatness of NMH’s In The Aeroplane Over The Sea. He went to UNC, and he’s considering starting a Mates of States-esque band with his girlfriend when he returns from Japan. I later saw him in the lobby of the hotel, and he was surrounded by four Japanese women, who all seemed quite taken with him. I decided not to say hi at that point.

Cody: I lied earlier when I said I hadn’t known him for that long. In fact, I knew him intimately for 12 hours straight since we were seated next to each other from Minneapolis to Narita. I liked him immediately after he said he was a light sleeper and could not sleep on airplanes or trains. I, too, have this problem. Between the two of us, we got about 1.5 hours of sleep on the plane.

Anna: I met her way back in June at the Atlanta Q & A session. She speaks Japanese, so she acted as our impromptu tour guide on our quest for food. I felt bad that everyone was relying on her, but she appeared to enjoy being helpful. Anna is a small-town girl from Missoura.

After dinner, a few of us went to a convenience store to buy celebratory beer to bring back to the hotel. It was 8:30 PM local time, meaning we essentially wanted booze at 7:30 AM. Hey, when in Japan. A few girls bought Sapporo, I bought Asahi. The clerk asked if I wanted a bag, but I did not understand him. Fortunately, he gestured by pointing at the bag in question. At this point, even saying simple words such as arigato is awkward, but I am certain that will pass.

There is so much more to say, but I suppose that is always the case.

Paint the town red (army)

In the words of my college roommate and current artisan extraordinaire Jon Levin, "the days are growing shorter."

And what better way to enjoy my last days in the States than to take part in the things we do best here: bathe in our excess.

As a going-away gathering of sorts, last night my high school crew went out to the International House of Pancakes, our old stomping ground. "International" turned out to be merely a misnomer unless, in fact, it was referring to the world of pain I experienced after eating:

1) hash browns with ketchup
2) two pancakes smothered in milky butter and "hot, regular" syrup
3) chicken fried chicken covered in peppered gravy
4) three eggs, scrambled well with a smattering of tabasco
5) two sweet teas

If it ended there, it would still be too much.

We (Farbod, Aaron, Scott, Keith — he's alive!) returned to the home of the first two (Ira had other plans) for another hometown favorite, Risk: The game of world domination.

I'd like to say that I controlled Japan for the majority of the game, but that would be a lie. I employed my typical strategy of bunkering down in Australia, and I held it for a decent amount of time. As it goes with Risk, the power struggle lasted for six hours (from 10 pm-4 am), and the warfare ended as I conceded to Keith after one last stand. Ukraine, it turned out, was not so weak.

Oh, did I mention we got a pepperoni and feta cheese pizza at 2 am? When it rains, it pours.

It's now the day-to-day.

As I'm currently on the verge of being employed (quite different from being unemployed), I've been taking a few tips from the main character of Nick Hornby's About A Boy (no doubt, Nick Hornby himself). Namely, I pass the hours of the day by setting up specific goals to accomplish. And by hours of the day, I really mean days of the week.

Monday: the aforementioned omiyage. (From this point on, I will italicize all Japanese words. It looks cool, and I've seen it in reputable sources. I will continue to do this until a) I forget or b) I immerse myself so completely into Japanese culture that I begin to italicize English words.)

I drove up to my old haunt (Gwinnett Place Mall) with my mom, and we made our way to a shop that specializes in delicacies made in the good ol' South. I purchased candied pecans, peach preserves and a fancy tin with a peach logo and "Atlanta, GA" emblazoned on the front. The tin will be filled with jelly beans from Sam Walton's club.

Afterward, we examined the mall directory to locate a store that might specialize in trinkets of the Atlantan variety. No such luck, but we did pick up some keychains and a pewter Georgia spoon from a card shop. One point of interest: the mall directory has gotten a lot less specific from when I last perused one. Instead of letters and numbers to indicate location, there were simply letters. Thus, a rather huge portion of the mall was labeled "E." It took a few awkward left-right-left looks before I knew where to go.

Today: I got a haircut. Seeing as how it is roughly four weeks before I begin teaching, I will certainly need another one in order to make a good impression. It will be a Japanese haircut.

Tomorrow: I will go to the bank. I will begin packing.

A taste of the future?

Last night, I drove out to Athens with my buddy Aaron to visit the Snows. (That's Matt and Cindy Snow, née Lo!) The event: Ka-ra-okay!

We got a private room for the low, low cost of $40/hour (though free to me), and the festivities were grand, to say the least.

Highlights of the night include Mr. Big's "To Be With You," which Cindy sang with adolescent glee, finally hearing Matt sing (he's a dead-ringer for his main man J.B. Jovi), and Aaron's baritonian rendition of the Beach Boys' "Kokomo." Because, after all, that's where we want to go.

I saké bombed (twice) and got the cute, partially-Japanese (?) waitress' phone number. Wait, no I didn't.

If this is a sign of things to come, I welcome the incoming flood.