When in doubt, point them out!

Let's differences!

Part of my job as an "internationalizer" is to stand in front of classes and open the door to their curiosities. Here are some things they reacted to:

1. Today a student saw that I was wearing wool socks, as I had to stand on the cold gym floor for the closing ceremony. being a smart one, she zeroed in on the hole near my left big toe. She then proceeded to erupt into an orgasm of giggles. At first I thought she had had an episode of diarrhea by how much she was convusling but then I realized she had to point out something negative about me, and the sock filled that need quite well. In the defense of my woolies, they are warm and toasty. Also, feet are too big to find cozy replacements here in Wa country. Plus they were a Christmas present from my sister, which adds to their aura all that much more.

2. A few weeks ago, I had a cold and the nose was running full bore. Add a bounty of chalk dust (why chalk is still king in a 9 year old school is another issue altogether) and I was sneezing up a storm. It was about as entertaining for the kids to watch me as it is for me to ride the trains here and watch the Japanese public mine for nose and ear nasties as they groom their way to their respective destinations.

I can remeber as a kid we tried to be mean to substitute teachers. That concept doesn't seem to be too popular in Japan, as people rarely take sick leave, or vacation for that matter. In this way it ends up that the sick, but nonetheless present teacher is valued more than the genkifying absent one.

And by the way, Merry Christmas to all those I know

Thanksgiving turned on its head... Mariyln Barrueta of Mclean, Virginia writes... First Thanskgiving? Virginia Thanskgiving Festival, Inc. claims that the first Thanksgiving was celebrated at what is now Berkeley Plantation on Dec. 4, 1619. That claim ignores the history of Don Juan de Onate, the first successful colonizer of the Southwest. In January of 1598, his colonists-an expedition of some 600 people- left southern Chihuahua and headed north. Three months later, they were met by the Manso Indians of the El Paso region, who guided them across the desert to the river crossing. There, on April 30, 1598, the colonists commemorized their arrival with a Mass and a great feast- thus a Thanksgiving celebrated in North America at least 21 years earlier than either the Virginia or Pilgrim celebration. (From an op-ed i cut out of the Taiepi Times in Nov of 2004)

WWYD?

What would you do were you in my unkempt, rather ruined size 13 tennis shoes?

Last August I started a new job. In September I was "farmed out" to my first base school. The teachers there (1/3 of them) took me to this nice Indian restaurant. The food was good, even if I was severely constipated at the time.

Anyway, about five months later (today) I get this request to pay my share of the bill for the aforementioned dinner. While the $40 US share is a fair bit to charge the welcomed, it is for these reasons I am irked concerning this matter.

One, five months is rather tardy to give someone a bill for a meal long digested, flushed and forgotten.

Two, if you invite someone, especially someone from another country who has just arrived to work with you, would that not imply it is a treat? That is coming from my perspective. If an American were to wine and dine a Japanese executive, would the US side not foot the bill for all the ballyhoo?

Drop me a line and tell me what you think.

I know this guy. We'll call him TTAM to protect his privacy. I thought it would be cool to show off his photo talent by linking his stuff below. Thanks TTAM for your inspiration.

http://moonstationecho.com/gallery/index.html

He also has a journal, updated whenever his employer, a giant neon bunny, frees him from its' grasp.

But, I'll give you this admonishment: It is prone to a bit of sappiness.

Nyar

Concept Art: Exploring the concept of conceptual concepts This I picked up at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Taipei: "meta: more cpmprehensive: transcending- used with the name of a discipline to designate a new but related discipline designed to deal critically with the original one." "This work utilizes the interplay of light and shadow cast by the projection of architecture works onto different media, juxtaposed with the movement and silhouette of the audience, to create a semblance of dream-like reality, that questions our perception of being and space." "The experience is an abstract of the real- a constant shift between micro and macro, part and whole, ephemeral and perpetual, that echoes the allegory of the Dream of the Red Chamber." "Truth becomes fiction when fiction's true; Real becomes not-real where the unreal's real." I have absolutely no idea in what concrete way this could be useful to the layperson.

Quick factiods about the queen of cute, Hello Kitty Nickname in Japan: Kitty Chan Birthplace: London, England in 1970. Apparently, London was the tourist hotspot before Japan colonized Hawaii. Pets: Kitty has a pet, er, kitty. Its' name is Chami, a Persian cat. It looks like a real cat but with Hello Kitty's head fused to a real cats' body. Products: thousands...

Sticker Fun....................


I went to this eclectic place called tokyu hands and made a few purchases for the kiddies.
Some of the stickers are printed with some English words. Here are some that caught my attention:

1. I want to see strange people in south and north countries. Accompanying this is an image of a pig in people's clothing

2. I'm ghost

3. Let's play bowling. This I understand, English grammar is tuff!

4. Mountain. There are nature recieving us gently and nature rejecting our tresspass
persistently.

Also, I bought some glossy Iranian flag stickers. These are hard to find in America.

A Eulogy for a beloved man.

He was 88, a commendable age for a man. He lived a life some would say typified the american dream: He was a businessman and later raised cattle and gravenstine apples on the fertile but arid plains of northeastern Oregon. He watched his town dissapear as it was flooded by the completion of The Dalles dam across the Columbia in 1960. He weathered rock-bottom wheat prices during the late Depression years. He taught himself to fly and had hoped to be a pilot during World War II, but instead served in the Navy. He later enjoyed flying the 600 kilometers between his farm in Arlington and his beloved beach house near the California border in Brookings. He was such a hard-working and kind fellow, perhaps one of everyone's favorite people.

He was the family guardian, and he looked out for my Grandma when she needed the comany or in need of assistace. Walt was an intrigal part of a very close-knit family who has for the most part splintered and its elder members transcended into the next world.

But growing elderly was difficult for him, especially after his wife, Florence died while I was in college at UO. She was his soulmate, and hopefully their spirits are in some cosmic way reunited. He had the strength of an ox and the heart of a blue whale. Not to steal any quippage from Tom Brokaw (well I will, actually) but he was a member of what will probably be seen in history as the greatest generation.) By that of course I mean that his fellow veterans gave the greatest sacrifice and propelled themselves into the highest standard of living America has ever seen.

The next time I find myself driving the lonely, deserted and expansive portion of Interstate 84 between Portland and Boise, Idaho, the memory of my great uncle will be a powerful one. His was an example of how others could be living, have lived and if the world tries to save itself, will have the chance to live in the future.

Rest in peace, we miss you already.

------------------------------------------------------------
Below is his obituary published in the Oregonian, the biggest newspaper in the Northwest, save for some Seattle ones...

Walter M. Hulden
Saturday, December 11, 2004
A gathering will be at 1 p.m. Sunday, Dec. 12, 2004, in the Vancouver residence of Bryan Bickmore for Walter M. Hulden, who died Dec. 8 at age 88.
Mr. Hulden was born Jan. 28, 1916, in Salem. He owned and operated Hulden Motors in Arlington and later was a wheat farmer and orchard owner. He moved to Gresham in 1993. In 1939, he married Lorraine St. Louis; she died earlier. In 1953, he married Florence Yost; she died in 1998.
Survivors include his daughters, Leslie Hoffer and Peggy Oliver; sons, Richard, Bill and Jim; six grandchildren; and three great-grandchildren.
Remembrances to the Oregon Lions Sight & Hearing Foundation. Arrangements by Rose City.

Identity crisis on the North American continent:

http://edition.cnn.com/2004/WORLD/americas/12/07/canada.tshirts.ap/index.html

First, this idea is not new, it is just more popular now. I have pretended to be from Canada because it suited me at the time and besides, they are a unique, enlightened nation in no way similar to the United States. Their cars are small and none of them are obese.

Secondly, I've met lots of ugly personalities and there isnt any pattern to their nationality except to say that there are dolts everywhere you live and travel. Airports, more than any other place seem to have a concentration of such folks. I feel that scruitinizing American tourists is popular, easy and comes across as quite vindictive. I, as one of the whole frappuchino of ethnicity that is the USA tend to claim Canadianistic nationality if asked.

This may sound like I am being indirect, avoiding my American guilt, etc. but as time goes by and for a multitute of reasons many people want to see harm done to America. That's my take on the ever-increasing hijacking of the Maple Leaf by non-Canadian travellers.

And getting back to the question of what it is to be Canadian... I have not fielded this to many friends of the Canuck persuasion, as I feel it makes them uncomfortable. Not that that's bad but it is better in my experience to limit the number of hornet nests one kicks over in a day.

And you don't have to be that well-read to know facts aboot Canada.
For example I knew that their PM is Paul Martin and he lives in an Igloo with that wily penguin Chilly Willy. Enough cultural understanding for one day!

Books that might just be a hit. I thought of them first, though so paws off..: 1. Bran Bran (named after a Kobe flyer aimed at brand-name fashion-themed chickies) Girls and high-heeled boots: A tourist's guide to Sannomiya. 2. The cup runneth over: An optimist's guide to Japan's bounty of potential social revolutionism. 3. The human tape recorder: A peek into team teaching theory and practical applications. 4. Chotto... A guide to all things conversationally taboo in Japan 5. Let's stereotyping: A citizen's guide to rehashing misunderstandings across the cultural spectrum.

Three degrees...


Good: The aniticipation of a reunion with a loved one after a long flight.
Bad: Being asked every time whether one can speak a particular language, when it is infact a very irrelevant question.
Worst: A 1.5 hour train ride for 40$ that only covers a distance of 35 miles.

Good: Workplace harmony and cooperative spirit.
Bad: Harmony based on problem avoidance and fear of being different or non-conformist.
Worse: Tripping up on the pride factor and letting it affect all portions of one's life.

Good: Proper hygene
Bad: Grooming and related habits while nayr eats his lunch
Worse: Habits which make others want to wretch be performed in front of everyone.

Good: 8:30 a.m., the promise of a new day and the chance to inform others
Better: 4:15 p.m., leaving the office after suffering a crushing defeat of the former
Best: Time with the Mrs.

Good: Wendy's
Better: Subway
Best: Pike Street Brewery in Seattle, Washington

Good: Non-Smoking public places
Also good: cleaner-burning diesel fuels
Also Also good: LNG Busses and hybrid cars. Emphasis on short, liviable commutes

Good: Baggage class
Better: Economy class (varies by who you ask)
Best: Business class

Power is a dangerous thing because those that cannot handle it usually end up with it.

The best way to get perspective is not to avoid your problems. This requires the foresight to realize how your actions come across to others, however.

Bang your head against a wall, or supervisor, and they might begin to listen to you, or you might die of a brain hemorrage. Whichever comes first, the wall doesn't become less stubborn or self-absorbed.

This the quagmire rekrap finds himself in at present.

The man: useless
The solution: Perspective
The challenge: Doling out the former.
The outcome: Stay tuned