Where I'd like to be right now...

Yearning for that traditional Japanese Christmas Dinner...The Colonel has you covered.

Men on the Train

Last train to oblivion...

Last night as I boarded the train, a man had decided to spread out and sleep off the night's grog. However, everyone else had been out late, too and everyone just wanted to go home.

Had I woken him up so that some elderly passengers could have a seat beside his disheveled self, would he have given me a gat in the belly? Would he simply and sullenly righted himself, apologized for the trouble, switched trains and let it go? No one will know the outcome, as I looked on with bemusement as everyone else expected someone else do do, erm...something. It's just not right, the collective minds shouted!

I have seen people making out on the train, collective make-up running under the hot fluorescent tube lighting. The passion of the moment horrifies the elderly passengers nearby. This visiting resident was quite amused. Had I been eating a sandwich at the time, my appetite might have diminished.

Lately I have had a shift where, due to timing, compels me to travel home during the Witching Hour- midnight and a half, ish. The state people are in seems odd and playful, when one has not joined them at their company after-work sloshathon. I almost feel like I should join them.

All this merrymaking as the train lumbers on its nightly finale is in extreme contrast to daytime riding, where noise and jovial conversation, are for all intents and purposes, way, way out.

Okay late night commuters! rest your weary souls among the purple and green velvet carriages but do heed the needs of your fellow riders. And please don't do us the disfavor of vomiting. Nobody wants to smell nor clean that up.

Feeling nostalgic? For audio Japanese commuting memories, the site below is for you.

Tokyo JR Jingles

Nationwide Train Jingles

Feeling Poetic?

A journalist feeling clever recently took real, honest audio clips and sliced and diced DR's press conference statements into flowing, beautiful prose.

As seen on Slate.com.

The Poetry

The Unknown
As we know,
There are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know
There are known unknowns.
That is to say
We know there are some things
We do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns,
The ones we don't know
We don't know.

—Feb. 12, 2002, Department of Defense news briefing

Glass Box
You know, it's the old glass box at the—
At the gas station,
Where you're using those little things
Trying to pick up the prize,
And you can't find it.
It's—

And it's all these arms are going down in there,
And so you keep dropping it
And picking it up again and moving it,
But—

Some of you are probably too young to remember those—
Those glass boxes,
But—

But they used to have them
At all the gas stations
When I was a kid.

—Dec. 6, 2001, Department of Defense news briefing

A Confession
Once in a while,
I'm standing here, doing something.
And I think,
"What in the world am I doing here?"
It's a big surprise.

—May 16, 2001, interview with the New York Times

Happenings
You're going to be told lots of things.
You get told things every day that don't happen.

It doesn't seem to bother people, they don't—
It's printed in the press.
The world thinks all these things happen.
They never happened.

Everyone's so eager to get the story
Before in fact the story's there
That the world is constantly being fed
Things that haven't happened.

All I can tell you is,
It hasn't happened.
It's going to happen.

—Feb. 28, 2003, Department of Defense briefing

Hub

The vertitable Hub Fish and Chips.

This character is always at the Hub.

These are photos of my neighborhood

A scenic waterfall en route to Mt. Rokko's Rock Garden

My neighbors' shrubbery

A spanish-style home on the list of historic places.
Certainly roomier than what I've got!

Japan always posts handy bilungual Signs for visiting motorists.

In a bad acorn year (such as 2004) you might just encounter Kobe wildlife.

Our corner vending machine provides sanctuary in a PET bottle!

Circular Mirrors warn of kamikaze taxi drivers...

Expect more Mikage neighborhood photos soon.

Happy Holidays!

Quotable Quotes from Beijing

I came across some notes from my brief stay in China's capital. Enjoy.

"I am Mongolian. You take shortcut?"

"Hello. Bye-Bye Price OK? Small money OK."

"You buy Coke water or I follow you long time. All day!"

"No" (Often heard in Taxis, at shops when bargaining and when I asked if I could keep a souvenir AK-47 bullet casing at the Beijing International Shooting Range).

Who we dislike..a study in American Diversity

So there we were...40 ish people sitting in a field in the Pisgah National Forest.

It was seminar day on an Outward Bound course and we were asked during a Diversity Workshop who we hate. Hate is a strong word. So we all wrote our favored pariahs on a slip of paper and deposited them into a grimy communal cap. The range of answers surprised me...

The Klu Klux Klan (4 votes)

City Folk (1 vote from a Missourite)

Pushy Religous Groups (Two votes, non-specific groups fingered)

Neo Nazis

Militant Palestinians (Kinda came out of left field)

Car Drivers (This one comes from a 20 year old who scorns car licensing and ownership but survives by bumming rides in said deathmobiles of friends)

War Protesters at Funerals for recent KIA soldiers

Anti-Gay Despots

Realists

Rich People (Ironic this one came up, as we had all paid about 5K for the course)

Bohemian Grove (A cult in an American suburb near you)

It was an interesting activity. Venting about who one dislikes can be therapeutic, as does painting up a Jack-o-lantern in a likeness of your mortal enemy, then sticking a Ginzu knife in the pumpkin's 'brain' with an attached post-it proclaiming "You," with a direction-bearing arrow. (There was a Jack Handy quote about this that I borrowed heavily from here).

Ode to the Pawed I

Dog Days.

I have been busy walking/jogging my sister's Aussie Shepherd, Blue, lately and that has gotten me very nostalgic for other dogs that have been a part of my life. A dog is always good entertainment, and read below for examples.

Our family has not had very good luck with dogs. But each dog is different, just like their Humanoid providers, with a different set of likes, dislikes and marking style.

PARIS

First there was Paris, named after my mom's first encounter with the man who left me and by brother wombless, dadless and two parent-less. Paris was a doxin, or for those Germanically inclined, a daschund, which is a breed known for back trouble and a keen dislike of rabbitkind.
Bay windows are irresistible to dogs, (especially short ones living life as a canine on the down low) but until canines develop a biped stature and climb the evolutionary ladder, bawdy for the back.
The more Paris watched out over the neighborhood, glancing at BigWheel gangs in spider-man iron-on T's and large Ford thunderbird parked in driveways, the more is vertebrae yelped in protest. And when dogs are in significant physical pain, and we perturb them, they turn on us.
So enter my toddler-aged brother, to pet the 'pwety doggie.' Paris was having a particularly painful series of back spasms. The human baby poked and prodded him, interrupting his gaze of a particularly smokin Chihuahua out on the sidewalk. Paris was having none of it-
A nip to brother's left cheek left a permanent scar- just a quarter inch away from his right eye. Rather than give our ailing pooch a second try to make the firstborn son a Cyclops, Paris was handed down his sentence: He left to another world, where a sterile steel syringe delivered eterno-nappy time.
Rest in peace, Paris. But honestly, mom and pop were blind to the marketing potential that was within their grasp- Just imagine if the hound had nabbed that peeper, nipped off it sinuous nerve bundle and scarfed down its gelatinous center right there in the dining room.
Imagine a children's book- in the young adult section. My Brother, The Pirate: A Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Series. Or, a Bumper sticker or perhaps a T-shirt proclaiming: My brother lost his left eye to a gimped-out dachshund. Now THAT would attract media attention.

MERLIN

Merlin was a stray. Part husky, part malamute and part other. He came to our porch on winters' day and departed 12 years later, leaving this world to pass on to another. His mortal being is doing well in its role as lilac tree fertilizer. Merlin never barked, never made demands. As an abandoned puppy with an awkward gait and the occasional bout of gas, he warmed us to his charms. He knew his limits, and pushed them accordingly. Near the end he had some skin problems, and due to his typical canine inability to speak English, the problem was difficult for him to explain. But he had a great life, went on many road trips and always welcomed us home from school by poking his his through the curtains in the breakfast nook. With dogs you get what you pay for as for as pedigree and behavior, and Merlin made it fun to have him around. He died peacefully as big dogs often do, took one last run on the beach, harassed the seagulls one more time, then lay down and quietly sailed away to the land where cats aren't clawed, it rains dog bones and there is always someone in season.

BLUE

Blue is a dog of character. He has an affinity for barking at wheeled vehicles. He considers them a threat. He is an Aussie shepherd, a breed Australians have heard nothing about. At age two he has already left the farm he grew up on, failed out of puppy university and consumed several dried pig ears, his snack of choice. He's a good dog, and probably would be of more utility if he had something to herd, as that is in his genes- herding. We expect another decade at least of his antics.

Haiku Inspired By China

I spent 5 nights in Beijing. Huge tasty Tsing Tao was 25 cents a bottle.

These poems were the result of warm evenings whiled away at the $27.87- a night Far East Hotel.

Balibali Seoul
Get The Hhell Out of My Way
Market Ajumma

Beijing Shuttle Bus
Teenagers Reunited
Get a Friggin' Room

Shimmering Red Orb
Crimson Flag Omnipotence
Tienamen Square

Their Knowing Smiles
Tourists By The Dozen
Thems Easy Pickins

Have You Seen My Dog
Unfamiliar Menu Choice
Toto Furai

What's in a school?

The surfaces of learning: Photos of what my school is made of…

The old saying goes-

‘Sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of…’

‘Snakes and snails and puppy dog tails, that is what little boys are made of.’

Anyone who has ever seen Joan Rivers or that part in Forrest Gump where the GI’s lower intestinal tract spills out like a broken Slinky might take issue with this simplistic view on the two genders.

Let’s think about inanimate objects. What is a Japanese public junior high school made of? Well, in the case of the schools I’ve had the pleasure to work at over the past two years, heaping hunks of ferroconcrete.

These surfaces are from various locations in and outside of the building. Do you sense a pattern in the color scheme?

Non-slip Tiles…

More Tiles...

Heat-Reflecting Walls

Floorboards

Umbrella receptacles.

Amanohashidate- Bend over and receive...one of Japan's 3 best views!

Easter Fun in Mid-may. My students got the chance to have an American-style hard boiled Easter Egg Dye-o-rama last week. The merriment caused by $2.99 packets of food coloring was astounding. No one dyed their school uniforms by accident, and the lack of injuries made their first egg-dying go a complete success.

Know your ABC's

Possible contributors to the infamous ABC, or Asian Brown Cloud...

Read more about this menace to the world's most populous continent here...
I first heard this term a few years ago when the BBC declared it a threat to Asia, and that millions would die of respiratory failure if something wasn’t done to reduce it.

Have you been to south East Asia? The nations across this vibrant region have polluted the shit out of the skies, and apparently it’s all fault that pilot’s horizons are bleaker, browner and thicker than ever before.

Before the essential American and European white media points any more accusatory fingers at Asia, they should think, in a difficult, non-sensationalist way, how to SOLVE the problems they report upon.

Making us afraid of the ABC hasn’t made cars in America more fuel efficient, hasn’t reduced the growing desertification in northern China, and last time I checked there is a HUGE American Brown Cloud hanging over the Santa Anna, San Fernando and Simi Valleys.

When it comes to smog, LA wrote the book, made the term and lives the reality. This article (link) annotates that wood cooking fires are the major contributor to the ABC, though I would, in my less-than-expert analysis, point MY finger at Sumatran and Borneo slash and burn, the neo-Japanese concretization of China’s east coast and all those scooters in Ho Chi Mihn City.

Weekend Photos for May 12-13

This is my Monday face, sans coffee.










This azalea has cool flecks of purple in it. Go azalea, it's your birthday...










Above: Buy one of these charms from this temple in Uji, Kyoto and salvation is yours, for around $4.75.

Below: Is there anything Doeraimon can't do? Here, he is hawking custard nuggets shaped like his head, at a Buddhist temple near my in-laws' house.

A head of the game…

Two friends from different continents are headed to Seoul this week, so as I was sweeping off the dust bunnies from long-forgotten image folders I stumbled across these photos from our old neighborhood in Seoul. Though it’s been almost 19 months since I was last in Korea, a flood of memories came back from my days perusing our local Shijang (market) in search of whatever fruits, veggies and treats were on special that day.

There was the fruit lady, whose bookkeeping was based on a plastic pail full of that day’s sales income; Won bills of all shapes, odors and condition lay in the bucket. A hand would enter, my change would come out of its visually impermeable innards.

Then there was the fish and butcher areas of the market, tucked away off the main strolling path. And from there you can see basically what happens. Basically, pig comes in, chops and bacon out. Not too surprising, really. Carve or starve, eh? The head seems to be the hardest part of these self-sacrificing swine. Pig heads anyone?

The world renounces Koreans for eating dog. Now it is one of those cultural traits that produce westerners to take up tag board-ridden protests to rescue these downtrodden doggies from the stew pot. So if you want to see dogs for sale for non-pet purposes, well have a subway ride on down to Moran Market, where old Korea comes to admire the area’s modernity and trade their wares, brought in at 5-day cycles. It is one of the biggest traditional markets I’ve seen, anywhere. And hey, how often can you boast to friends back home that you shopped at the moran market?

Mountain Madness

Taking the reigns as a hiking guide, I led several friends and coworkers on a three day two night hike in Shikoku, the least-visited of the four main Japanese islands. The story will take time to post, but while that gets developed, here are some photos!

The high point was the summit of 1955m Tsurugu San, or Sharp Sword Mountain and 1896m Miune, or Three Peaks.

We had fantastic weather as you can see. There was a range of great sunrises, sunsets and tastes to be had in several prime trail mix containers.

I enjoyed a great adventure and saw some team members grow greatly doing things that were hard for them. Need to get out and do this kinda stuff more often.

Photos of Stuff in Kobe

A Beverage Vending Machine This Restaurant signboard proclaims:
"I humbly partake of this food"

We found this good luck charm vending machine in Suma.

These frogs would make a great stocking stuffer!

This Bear is in memory of the many Japanese who moved to Siberia before and during WWII and never returned home. It plays a folk melody when you touch the bear's head. Sad story, but a very cute bear!














Here's a family that has fallen on hard times, only being able to afford a ghetto half pair of glasses for poor Tanaka kun.

Suma Beach: Home of Genji

The Beach that smells like a cannery: A day at Suma Beach

Sunday found it in its heart to allow both Mr. and Mrs. Nyar the same day off so we high-tailed it over to Suma Beach, Kobe’s place for fun in the sun.

We were glad we went there primarily to see Suma Temple; the beach itself at first glance could have been confused with an abandoned harbor/cannery row. But Suma temple was fantastic. It’s a must-see for its cool battery-operated dioramas of the rich history surrounding Suma Beach.

On this sandy berm dividing nature’s apportioned sea and land spheres, Genji chased down and shot a 13-year old son of the Heike clan full of arrows. A true Wounded Knee sort of place, in it was not a fair fight. After decapitating the poor arrow-ridden boy, Genji recanted his violent 13^th Century ways and became a monk.

Perhaps it was out of shame at the bad form garnered from public opinion when a warlord kills a preteen horseman, or the general PR hit taken, but Genji was never known to harness his adept archery skills in an aggressive manner ever again. The story is true, the diorama tells the tale in motorized textless form anyone can understand.

Next time you’re on the soft, fragrant sands of Suma Beach, congratulate yourself on your luck. A romp in the surf in this day and age, certainly isn’t likely to fill YOU full of painful arrows…

Now who says we don’t live in an enlightened society?

From Buddha to Bullets

Life is full of contradictions. A Big Mac and Diet Coke. Those with the most want more. Greenpeace's boat badly damaging a Philippine coral reef it had sworn to protect.

Japan has many contradictions, too. Old homes brimming with new technological gadgets. One style of Japanese is taught to foreign language students; quite another kind is spoken by the citizenry.

World War II brought about many contradictions, horrors and ironies, perhaps none more striking than the fate of Hyogo WardÂ’s original Daibutsu, third largest among the sitting Buddha images in the country. (#1 is in Nara, #2 in Kanagawa Prefecture).

It was 1944, and the war was slowly being lost. Metals are a chief need in wartime, such raw copper, iron, steel and brass are chief ingredients for the bullets, planes and tanks of any proper war of imperial aggression.

This dilemma at the forefront of the collective military leaderships' consciousness, the idea popped into their heads- What better source of metal than the Hyogo sitting Buddha?

Yes, you heard it here first. From Buddha to bullets. In some cataclysmic case of terribly bad karma, some allied soldier may have met his doom with a bullet made from his lordship, the Great Buddha of Hyogo Ward.

Friday Flowers

Flowers adorn the school grounds, though cold temperatures have kept spring merrymaking to an unprecedented minimum. This has, however, delayed the inevitable hot, sweaty Kansai summer away for at least another week. Enjoy the tulips!