A few weeks ago, I was asked to do a team teaching demonstration lesson for the new JETs in the prefectural capital. I wasn't particularly keen on it, since it chewed up one of my long weekends during the summer vacation. However, when the order comes from on high in the prefectural board of education, being a lowly cog in the wheel of the municipal branch means you have to grit your teeth and do it. It was a scary thought, doing a lesson with people who are actually old enough to catch on to all the sneaky tricks I use to get the kids in class to speak English. On the bright side, I got reimbursed for travelling expenses and lunch, and I was able to spend a few hours in the city looking around, and ended up finding a cut price yukata and a matching belt in time for all the summer festivals that were coming up. I'm totally weak for these things, I know.
On hindsight, it was probably a good thing that I was in the capital that day. I walked past a convenience store and spotted a poster for an upcoming kabuki performance featuring a 16-year old onnagata, or female impersonator named Saotome Taichi. I'd missed his show the last time he came round these parts since all the tickets had sold out, so I wasn't going to let this chance go. Convenience stores here truly are convenient, and I was able to get a premium seat simply by walking into the store and ordering it from a handy automated machine in the corner. I do believe I was on a high for the rest of that day with a very precious ticket safely tucked away in my bag.
With all the activity that follows the start of the new term, the day of the performance came surprisingly quickly. It was a mad rush to get to the culture centre in the capital again, since I had a non-volunteer engagement in the morning that required a half-hour drive to get to. Suffice it to say that bullet trains are horrendously punctual, and won't wait to pick up stragglers. I made it into the auditorium just a couple of minutes after the show started, and was glad that they didn't make me wait until the intermission to let me in. It would have been upsetting, to put it mildly. Once I was in there however. any vestige of guilt over drooling after a minor disappeared, since an overwhelming proportion of the audience was made up of geriatric ladies. ^^
The first act was a play called Souma no Sentarou, a story about a boy samurai searching for his blind mother who gave him and his sister away as infants. I got the story since I'd already seen it on a DVD I'd bought a while ago (I know it's fangirling, but I don't care). Incidentally the kanji in the title is identical to the name of a city in the northeast of my prefecture that's famous for horse racing, but I don't know if it's actually related. The story begins in the Edo period, with the title character having searched over a decade for his mother, who has married a rich merchant. In typical tearjerker fashion, Sentarou and his sister are waylaid on the outskirts of the town where their mother lives, and his sister is killed in the fray. The boy then has the unenviable job of breaking the news to his mother, who doesn't believe his story until he produces a keepsake bell that she gave his sister when she was born. I could have sworn I heard a few people in the audience sniffling during the show. ^^
Melodrama gave way to mayhem during the intermission as there was a mad rush for merchandise. The counter with all the goodies was four to five deep in fans, who bought everything from shopping bags and paper fans to chapsticks and terry towel handkerchiefs. I have to admit I was pretty keen on some of the stuff too, so here's my haul from the day, including the DVD I mentioned above:
The photobook was a decent collection of shots, while the metal can contains cookies, each printed with the guy's stage name. Just so you know, the can is labelled "sweet cookie". He sure is. XD
The cheap pair of plastic binoculars in the picture came in pretty handy in the second act, when the star of the show ditched the samurai costume for white makeup, flowing kimono and long black wigs. I'd seen his performances on TV and the internet before, but it's quite a different experience to see it live. More like a rock concert than a traditional kabuki performance, the dances combined fans and flowing silk with modern music and dazzling lighting effects to wow the audience. There was one piece where he performed alone to an English song, possibly called "This is My Life", that briefly took me back to the drag shows in Sydney, but without the sleaze. I wasn't allowed to take photos all throughout the show, so here's a sample:
The seat I got was in the first row of the second tier of the ground level, right next to the exit. At first I thought I'd been gypped because it wasn't as close to the stage as I would have liked, but a few times during the show the backup dancers used the aisle in front of me to enter the auditorium, followed by Saotome himself. I swear I was no more and a metre away from the guy, and that alone made my trip there worth all the effort. He would probably have come closer if it had not been for an obsessed fan who reached out to try to touch him as he went by. I reckon you should never touch a performer unless they explicitly invite it; to do that would be disrespectful and somewhat stalkerish if you ask me.
All in all, it was a great day out, and one of those rare chances to experience something a little out of the ordinary. I think I'll be keeping a close watch on his website from now on. If he ever comes by these part again I am so going to get tickets. I do so love my eye candy. ^^
Somewhere in my copies of the official junior high English textbook, there's a story about the first East Asian Manga Summit in Japan in 1996. By some strange coincidence it was held in this prefecture in the seaside city of Iwaki, about a couple hours drive from Sukagawa.
I don't have to travel that far to get to a comic exhibition though. Turns out that there's an event like the Comic Market in Odaiba, right here in Koriyama just 30 minutes away. The 44th Super Adventures comiket was held in an exhibition and expo centre on Route 4 called Big Palette, and is like a scaled down version of Comiket, complete with art contests, doujinshi vendors, merchants and even a cosplay show. A recent tightening of privacy laws meant that I actually had to register with the organizers before I could take photographs, however. The girl at the organizers' booth did a double take at my katakana name, but after that it was all good, so here are a few of the cosplayers I thought were worth a second look.
Hehe... nostalgia.
A comic market in a totally different prefecture affords me some anonymity to get snap happy, but one so close to home means that the odds of running into someone I know is pretty high. It's even more awkward when the people who spotted me at the event were my junior high students. Most students react to this situation with the same awkwardness, and I know that for a fact because some of my students have actually written about it in class. ^^
It was a pleasant surprise than when my students actually seemed glad to see me. I guess outing my interest in anime and manga does make me less distant to them. One of the girls I saw actually had her own table at the fair and was selling some of her own stuff. As a teacher, I have to support my students, so of course I bought something from her. She might be terminally embarrassed if I posted a pic of her doujin, so I'm not gonna. ^^
Going to Super Adventures spurred me to draw a few pics, and since I have free periods at school sometimes. Kids who walk by my desk in the teachers' room sometimes stop to take a peek, and it goes a long way in breaking the ice, even for a few words of English. The student with the table at the fair just so happens to be in the art club, and so I've somehow become an unofficial member of the club as well. XD
I used to wonder what on earth would motivate kids to stay in school eleven hours a day, but after going to the art room after classes for a few days I realize that these club activities mainly serve a social purpose more than anything else. Kids who might otherwise be quiet and reserved, or generally awkward and outcast find a second voice doing something they're interested in with other like-minded people. "No man is an island," so the tired cliche goes, but I've seen too many quiet and withdrawn kids in class to know that it's vitally important to have someone to talk to when things get rough. After all, everything is rough for kids since it's happening to them for the first time.
At the very least it's nice to gain a little bit of cred with the students. It can get tough when you come up against a wall of silence come English lesson time, and if a few scribbles on a piece of drawing paper can help disperse the apathy, it can only be a good thing. Forget art for art's sake. I'll take purpose over pretentiousness any day.
There's no easy way to confront turning 30, especially when you work with kids and are continually reminded of the excesses of youth. It also doesn't help when the day coincides with the town's famous fireworks festival and the date you start your descent into the age of responsibility and home loans is plastered all over the city. I suppose I can tell everyone that the town put on the pyrotechnics for my special day. Just so I could celebrate in style, or at the very least distract myself from the horrible truth, I decided to go to the festival in a new yukata I'd bought for the occasion. No pics, sorry. Poor lighting and all, you see.
Talk about raining on my parade. The festival was fairly damp from the light rain that continued throughout that night, but that's not going to stop the townspeople from having their festival. Aside from the usual chrysanthemum fireworks, there were ringed planets, pokemon balls and my favourite, goldfish. Yes, literally goldfish-shaped fireworks that were totally cute. I wish I could have taken some decent photos, but the lack of a tripod or anywhere dry to stand it prevented me. The largest individual fireworks were last, but the smoke from all the previous charges started drifting downwards because of the rain, and so all we saw was a diffuse glow instead of the actual fireworks. Shame, really. I made up for it by downing a couple of beers and tucking in to some delicious festival food.
Speaking of food, what's a birthday without a bit of cake, eh? In the year since my last, the branch of Fujiya I got my cake from the last time packed up, so I reckon I'd make my own. So here are the cream puffs I made after scouring the net for recipes.
When I was a kid I thought adults had all the answers, that at age 21 a switch in their brains automatically flips and they all suddenly know what to do in any situation. Over the years that philosophy has mutated somewhat. Now I firmly believe that adults are but children in a larger size. There have not been any illuminating epiphanies or sudden surges in wisdom, only a persistent feeling that nothing I've experienced so far will truly prepare me for tomorrow. It sounds rather trite I know, but right now, it's surprisingly apt. It's not all that gloomy though; after all, I made it this far, right? Based on my own rate of situational survival I suppose the odds of making it out of most sticky spots is in excess of 50%, which is as good as it gets, really.
While on the subject of "as good as it gets", I do sometimes worry that this is all there is to life, and that at 30 I really should have more to show for it than I do now. But it's never too late to start planning I suppose, and since I'll probably be staying here for the next couple of years it's an excellent time to think about all the other things I could get to doing after this extended working holiday. Hopefully I've actually learned something about teaching in the last year so i can deal with the next two better. Good students are a joy to teach, but where there are terror tots (14-year olds also count), it takes a lot of patience, Panadol, and as a last resort, apathy, to deal with them.
Meanwhile, I suppose the goal this year is to get out of my cosy one-room apartment more often and see more of this country's sights before I have to pack up and go back to the real world. Travelling within Japan can get frightfully expensive, but there's no better time than now since I'm actually here. Better start saving.
Take his picture of course! That's why I bring my camera to these things ^^
There is a Shinto shrine on the way to the main street of Kamakura, just to shake things up a bit amongst the Zen temples. While the atmosphere at all the temples so far is mostly one of quiet contemplation, the Tsurugaoka Hachimangu is a lot more festive, complete with fortunes, charms and barrels of ceremonial sake on the side. The place is decidedly commercial, with a really swish airconditioned cafeteria area for visitors to chill out in. It was there that I came upon a an actual Shinto wedding ceremony, with traditional musicians, shrine maidens and the customary exchange of sake cups between the bride and groom.
The shrine occupies pride of place at the end of the shopping strip alongside Kamakura station, and opens out onto the main street, lined with shops selling souvenirs, groceries, clothes and food. I stopped by a random noodle joint for some very welcome cold kishimen, sort of like flat udon.
I've taken a sudden liking to cold noodles because of the heat. I've probably eaten more cold soba in the last month than in all my time here.
A quick bus ride from the station took me to the Daibutsu, or Great Buddha Statue. The big guy stands about 11 metres tall, exposed to the elements because the folks in charge gave up on rebuilding the surrounding temple after it got washed away in a tsunami five hundred years ago. The upside is that the lighting for photographic purposes has improved a lot.
I paid 20 yen to go inside the statue for a look. Apparently the statue is made up of 30 individual pieces cleverly interlocked in 3 different ways, without the use of high heat welding. Lego never had it so good. The statue survived a number of natural disasters as well as WWII, and now stands on an earthquake-proof base. Take that, Mother Nature!
For trivia freaks, here's a rundown of the Great Buddha's stats:
A short walk from the Daibutsu is the Hase-dera, which houses the eleven-faced statue of the Hase-Kannon, or Goddess of Mercy. I wasn't allowed to photograph the statue, but it was very impressive. The temple also houses a large collection of small Buddha statues. There were literally thousands of them in the Hase-dera, from specially constructed terraces to low-roofed caves, which I could walk through without stooping (yes, I'm short, dammit). I'm told they were put there as offerings to "water children", or babies who were not carried to term because of financial, familial or medical circumstances.
I liked this guy the best:
Being close to the bay, the temple also features a lookout to the sea. I thought the view from the lookout was distinctly un-Japanese for some reason. Must be the sailboats and windsurfers.
A return trip to the shopping town beside the station yielded a few Japanese rarities, including this old style post box, which was surprisingly still in operation. These are being phased out by the modern cuboid models with a retractable drawer, which admittedly have a bigger capacity for mail, but look a lot less cute.
There was no way I could have thoroughly explored the shopping area, partly due to the rapidly fading daylight, but mostly because my feet couldn't take it anymore. It seemed a lot more friendly and down to earth than a lot of other places I've been though.
And just to show that the fashion industry is ruthless and cutthroat...
All in all a very culturally rewarding day out, which is way better than staying at home and wondering if there's stuff out there I might be missing. Trips to places further away might take a bit of planning and saving, but I reckon now that I'm in my second year I'll be better placed to take advantage of my work schedule and days off. Now what's this about that penis festival in Kawasaki?
On a whim, and inspired by one of my student's speeches, I decided to go to Kamakura to have a look around. The place is just an hour or so out of Tokyo by train, so it was perfect for a day trip. The Lonely Planet guide suggested that I stop a little north of Kamakura station and work my way south so I could cover a lot of temples, and it seemed like a good idea. Unfortunately the day I chose turned out to be one of the hotter days of the season, so it wasn't as comfortable as I would have liked. But if there's anything I've learned from being here, it's that you roll with the punches.
The Kamakura area is populated mostly by Zen temples, which means most places you come across are likely to be quiet and tranquil. After a while, all the temples start to look really similar, which is my excuse for not being able to remember where I saw what, but there were a few sights worth making a note of.
I found a statue in the one of temple grounds that was supposed to be a god of happiness, and a random visitor there told me that you rub his belly for good luck. I include a pic of the statue here because I thought he looked like he was pulling a one handed Fonzie ^^
Along the long trek to Kamakura station, I came across a stall by the road selling a local specialty, sweet potato flavoured ice cream. I'm not one to pass up a cold soft serve, especially on an extremely hot and humid day, so I stuck around the stall and ate the thing with a goofy look on my face.
I probably spent the most time at Kenchouji, which had a small lotus garden in bloom and some nice architecture.
That was by no means the reason why I stayed so long. I was about to walk out of the place when a saw a sign at the entrance about the area to the rear of the temple where you could see Mt Fuji. Lured by the promise of seeing the great volcano, I decided to give it a go. After all, it looked like a short walk on the map. Half an hour later, I was still climbing up the side of a frigging mountain and wondering what possessed me to attempt the hike in 36 degree heat. I didn't get to see Mt Fuji once I got to the top since it would involve walking a hiking trail without a guide, but I did get a cool mountaintop view of Kamakura and a flock of stone tengu for my efforts.
What's the collective noun for a group of tengu anyway? A patrol, maybe?
Having no classes to go to all of a sudden has left a gaping hole in my schedule, and I can only make so many crochet lace doileys sitting at home with nothing else to do. I had originally wanted to go to Hokkaido for the summer, since everyone was telling me that this was the season to go, but one look at the price tag on the tour package gave my bank account spasms, so I had to look for an alternative, and quick.
I finally settled on Nikko, a town in Tochigi Prefecture just a couple of hours' drive away dotted with shrines and temples, and one of the more spectacular tourist destinations outside of Kyoto and Osaka. I had planned to go to the area around Lake Chuzenji for the cultural experience, but after a quick discussion with my sempai, was convinced to try out another area about half an hour north of the lake, an Edo era theme park where visitors could dress up and wander around a 16th century Japanese village. Call it serendipity, because this place isn't mentioned in most travel guides or even the Lonely Planet, so I figured I'd give it a shot.
It was funny when I bought my ticket and the lady at the window immediately gave me a guidemap in Japanese, then did a double take when I asked for an English version instead. I get that a lot. ^^ The first clue I found that suggested this place didn't take itself too seriously was the in-house radio station located at the entrance:
I was in for a fun ride. First up was a live acrobatic performance by ninja, who gamely posed for pics with the audience after the show. I would have liked to take pics of the actual performance since it was allowed and even encouraged, but I'd have to plow more money into my photographic apparatus first.
I liked this guy better though. Ninja air guitar!
The ninja house of horrors and a water performance were nice to look at, and the airconditioning in these areas was most welcome. The ninja maze was fun to walk around in but not too much of a challenge. I tried my hand at archery, but totally sucked, and even had my picture taken with the theme park's mascot, Nyan-mage.
It's a cat with a samurai hairdo, just in case you're wondering.
The park has a topsy-turvy house for visitors to walk around in. Fighting against instinct to stay perpendicular to the floor while gravity is pulling you sideways is not for the faint hearted, or those suffering from vertigo. As for me, I only managed less than 5 minutes inside before nausea made me step out for some air. Yes, I know I'm weak, you don't have to rub it in.
They really pack in the shows in the theme park, and on the way out of the crooked house, we came upon an omikoshi parade, where visitors were encouraged to throw buckets of water at the portable shrine, and by extension, the people carrying it. There was this one sopping wet kid who had the most wicked expression on his face as he gleefully splashed the shrine, but privacy laws prevent me from posting the pic. Gotta love this country.
One of the more spectacular performances was the stage show depicting how shogun of old were entertained by oiran, or high-class geisha. Personally, if I had to lapse into falsetto every third syllable like they did I'd put myself out of my misery pretty quick. What the show didn't elaborate on was that oiran were more courtesans than entertainers, and that their obi were tied in front for easy access to more than just tea and biscuits. Sempai got roped into the performance as a guest of the shogun, but that's another story. ^^
Just in case you thought she was just a pretty face, she was pretty good with a monk's staff (no pun intended) in subduing an armed intruder and saving the shogun from a sticky end.
PWNED!
I'm not sure if it's historically accurate to say that women had such kickass roles in the real Edo period, but it sure was fun to watch. The last open air performance we saw involved bumbling lawmen on the trail of an Edo style Robin Hood called The Mouse. I reckon she was quite cute, actually.
Of course, it wouldn't be true Edo intrigue without a clever ruse involving an impostor. The real Mouse showed up to set the record straight, and gain himself a female sidekick in the process.
It was all terribly cheesy, but it was a well aged, tasty cheddar. It was really refreshing to go someplace where formality and protocol could be jettisoned for a jolly good time. We rounded out the day by making a pit stop at Utsunomiya for its famous gyoza. There was a whole boatload of places serving them, but we settled on this one. Maybe it was because the mascot looked like it was on some kind of hallucinogenic high...
I had the sampler plate of 12 gyoza, each with a different filling:
They mostly tasted similar, but there were a few that I might order again if I go there, such as the cheese, extra-spicy, shiitake and stamina gyoza. The shop also has a delivery service for its frozen gyoza, sent by refrigerated courier anywhere in the country for free. Might give them a call if I ever throw a gyoza party. Lucky I kept their business card. ^^
I think I'm getting into this summer vacation business a little too deeply, which would explain why I've been too lazy to write anything for the last month. Since there hasn't been a real need to go to school for actual lessons, there hasn't been big blocks of free time in the afternoons where I usually write stuff. I've been bludging at home instead ^^
The kids aren't so slack though. Most of them still go to school everyday for club activities, or go to cram schools to mug for upcoming tests. It's almost like not having a break at all.
The lot of us at the Carrot had it good though. Our section head brought us to a nice family-run restaurant in the Naganuma neighbourhood for a summer lunch. I thought it was just a regular restaurant, albeit one with a genuine wood-fired pizza oven. I wasn't expecting it to look more like a cozy open air campsite.
The owner makes everything from scratch, including his own pizza dough, and puts it all together on the spot. Sure, the toppings were typical of pizzas in Japan, but it was really nice to have freshly made thin-crust pizzas straight out of the oven. None of that thick crust pan pizza business here.
Just because this is Japan after all, the pizza was accompanied by kakiage (tempura battered vegetables and seafood) and flash-fried french beans with garlic and soy sauce. All the vegetables were either grown in the neighbourhood or in the owners own vegetable patch, because people are hardcore like that here, ya know.
No summer camp would be complete without meat sizzling on the barbecue, and sure enough, the charcoal was soon alight and the smell of grilled beef filled the camp. A couple of cold beers on the side really hit the spot.
The guy manning the grill was the same one I mentioned a few posts back in the town mascot suit. He's not too bad with a pair of tongs too. ^^
A hike around the hillside in between courses took us through a bamboo grove where I had sudden mental images of ninja showdowns, a shady forest filled with wild lilies, and a field filled with buckwheat plants, which I'm told bursts into flower in the fall. More total hardcore-ness followed because we were all treated to soba hand made from buckwheat grown in that very field as a finishing touch to our meal.
There really is a difference between store-bought, machine made dried soba. Or maybe it was the cold dipping sauce on a hot day that made the noodles seem extra tasty. It was here that I also found the answer to the perplexing question of what to do with the pot of hot water I was presented with in that soba restaurant back in Nagano. It's actually the water that the noodles have been boiled in, which apparently contains all the nutrients that were leached out of the noodles during cooking. This "soba-yu" is meant to be mixed with whatever dipping sauce is left in your cup, then drunk to improve circulation and lower blood pressure. And it's true!
Before we could explode from the food, it was time to go. I had no doubt I would have been able to roll down the hillside for all the good food I'd had, but of course I took the more comfortable option of going home by car. I really should have used the GPS function on my phone to pinpoint our actual location so I can find my way back here the next time, but alas, too much beef, beer and buckwheat sadly dulled my reason and I'll have to rely on the kindness of less directionally challenged friends the next time I feel like hillside dining.
The photobook was a decent collection of shots, while the metal can contains cookies, each printed with the guy's stage name. Just so you know, the can is labelled "sweet cookie". He sure is. XD
