Three days from now I’ll be relaxing in Cambodia gearing up for touring Angkor Wat (a dream since 10th grade World History class) and enjoying the holiday season in warm temperatures. I’ll spend a little over two weeks in Cambodia and Vietnam and get a chance to experience a completely different side of Asian culture.
Alas, due to trip preparations and a busy past few days, I cannot regal you with a new zany blog update…and since I’ll be fighting for my life (just kidding, mom) in SE Asian until January, you must wait until 2007 for a new video, song, or story.
But let me take this opportunity to say MERRY CHRISTMAS to everyone and here is a virtual high five and hug—SLAP, EMBRACE!
You can look forward to some pretty awesome stuff in the New Year including a new video series about Robots in the Office Place (and for all you Shark Friend fanatics, don’t worry, he’ll still get plenty of air time too).
My love to you all.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Christmas is all around me
I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes…
This past weekend I had the opportunity to don the holly jolly mantle not once, but THREE times. First, I played Santa in the 21st Holiday English Fair with some of my students. We worked hard putting together a Christmas musical extravaganza entitled “Love Story at Holy Night” that included Bible verses, a tricky love triangle plot, dance routines, and a Mariah Carey finale. Honestly, it was pretty freakin’ awesome.
Later that night, I went from Santa to reindeer as I became one of The Eight in a production of “The Reindeer Monologues”. I played Cupid and along with some other ALTs we entertain the Oita community with a story of corruption in the North Pole.
Finally, on Sunday I took on the guise of Saint Nick again to amuse, inspire, and freak out kids at the orphanage. The older kids took off shortly after my appearance, but the little ones stuck around to continuously question my true identity. The fact that my Santa pants lack any kind of waistband and as a result the cushion stuffed under the outfit kept falling out made it hard to convince them that I was indeed Santa Claus. They also pointed out my socks and jeans poking out the bottom and that my beard was fake. These kids were relentless! They just kept questioning me and pulling on me and then when they tired of that, they started kanchoing me! Later, when I changed back into my civilian clothes, I had a little boy about 7 years old come up to me and shout, “You’re that stupid Santa!” and then he punched me with all his little kid might right in the crotch.
Anyway, Happy Holidays.
This past weekend I had the opportunity to don the holly jolly mantle not once, but THREE times. First, I played Santa in the 21st Holiday English Fair with some of my students. We worked hard putting together a Christmas musical extravaganza entitled “Love Story at Holy Night” that included Bible verses, a tricky love triangle plot, dance routines, and a Mariah Carey finale. Honestly, it was pretty freakin’ awesome.
Later that night, I went from Santa to reindeer as I became one of The Eight in a production of “The Reindeer Monologues”. I played Cupid and along with some other ALTs we entertain the Oita community with a story of corruption in the North Pole.
Finally, on Sunday I took on the guise of Saint Nick again to amuse, inspire, and freak out kids at the orphanage. The older kids took off shortly after my appearance, but the little ones stuck around to continuously question my true identity. The fact that my Santa pants lack any kind of waistband and as a result the cushion stuffed under the outfit kept falling out made it hard to convince them that I was indeed Santa Claus. They also pointed out my socks and jeans poking out the bottom and that my beard was fake. These kids were relentless! They just kept questioning me and pulling on me and then when they tired of that, they started kanchoing me! Later, when I changed back into my civilian clothes, I had a little boy about 7 years old come up to me and shout, “You’re that stupid Santa!” and then he punched me with all his little kid might right in the crotch.
Anyway, Happy Holidays.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Monday, December 04, 2006
Adopted in Kyoto
Stories circulate within the JET community about a most curious and wonderful phenomenon called “obāsan adoption” (obāsan = grandmother). From the moment a new JET enters Tokyo, rumors of old Japanese ladies and their incredible kindness towards lost and confused foreigners are heard and remembered. JET publications seemed filled with tales of foreigners who couldn’t find their train or the grocery store and are then suddenly rescued by an old lady who takes it upon herself to adopt the JET and provide a year of hot meals and guided trips around the countryside.
These stories are heartwarming and pleasant…and to those who have never experienced obāsan adoption, these stories are enviable.
I’ve been in Japan for about 16 months now and have been on the look out for my obāsan every single day. When I walk around town and see an old lady, I’ll act lost or injured or look really sad in hopes she’ll take pity on me. When I’m at the train station, I’ll stare at the time table and kind of whimper if a grandmother is near. And sometimes I ask my students, “Does your grandmother cook you dinner? I’m a bad cook…do you think she could cook me dinner?” But alas, I’ve never found my obāsan.
That is, until just last week!
I was touring around Kyoto and had decided to take the subway instead of the exploding-capacity city buses. When I reached my stop and exited the train, I heard a soft but confident voice ask, “Are you a visitor?” I turned and saw no one…but then a strong hand pulled on my sleeve and I looked down to see a smiling old Japanese lady. “Yes, I am,” I said, and then she showed me a ticket for a bonsai tree exhibition (bonsai trees are the little, crafted trees whose beauty is found in their tranquility and strength). “It’s very near,” she said and then I did my awkward smile-puzzled face.
After a short Japanese-English exchange, I discerned that she was learning English and wanted to practice with a native speaker. She also had an extra ticket to a bonsai exhibition and was inviting me to go with her. I had plans to see other things in the city, but I knew I couldn’t pass up this shot at obāsan adoption…so I left the subway station with her and confidently jaywalked to the exhibition hall (she was really excited and just ran across the street…I followed hoping no one would ticket an old lady/foreigner duo).
Once inside the hall, we joined about 200 Japanese adults who were in their 50s, 60s, 70s…90s…Japanese people remain active well into their senior years…in a tour of about 150 bonsai trees and other amazing rock carvings and carefully crafted plants (all very Zen). My obāsan taught me all the different tree names and I taught her words like “acorn” and “squirrel”. I really enjoyed looking at all the trees—many of them having a fantasy world appeal—and I think the old Japanese people enjoyed seeing me and obāsan chatting together in English.
Afterwards, obāsan treated me to lunch and repeatedly interrogated me to make sure I was safe and knew how to get to my hostel and how to get back home later. It was great! We parted ways and I resumed my touring schedule feeling well cared for.
These stories are heartwarming and pleasant…and to those who have never experienced obāsan adoption, these stories are enviable.
I’ve been in Japan for about 16 months now and have been on the look out for my obāsan every single day. When I walk around town and see an old lady, I’ll act lost or injured or look really sad in hopes she’ll take pity on me. When I’m at the train station, I’ll stare at the time table and kind of whimper if a grandmother is near. And sometimes I ask my students, “Does your grandmother cook you dinner? I’m a bad cook…do you think she could cook me dinner?” But alas, I’ve never found my obāsan.
That is, until just last week!
I was touring around Kyoto and had decided to take the subway instead of the exploding-capacity city buses. When I reached my stop and exited the train, I heard a soft but confident voice ask, “Are you a visitor?” I turned and saw no one…but then a strong hand pulled on my sleeve and I looked down to see a smiling old Japanese lady. “Yes, I am,” I said, and then she showed me a ticket for a bonsai tree exhibition (bonsai trees are the little, crafted trees whose beauty is found in their tranquility and strength). “It’s very near,” she said and then I did my awkward smile-puzzled face.
After a short Japanese-English exchange, I discerned that she was learning English and wanted to practice with a native speaker. She also had an extra ticket to a bonsai exhibition and was inviting me to go with her. I had plans to see other things in the city, but I knew I couldn’t pass up this shot at obāsan adoption…so I left the subway station with her and confidently jaywalked to the exhibition hall (she was really excited and just ran across the street…I followed hoping no one would ticket an old lady/foreigner duo).
Once inside the hall, we joined about 200 Japanese adults who were in their 50s, 60s, 70s…90s…Japanese people remain active well into their senior years…in a tour of about 150 bonsai trees and other amazing rock carvings and carefully crafted plants (all very Zen). My obāsan taught me all the different tree names and I taught her words like “acorn” and “squirrel”. I really enjoyed looking at all the trees—many of them having a fantasy world appeal—and I think the old Japanese people enjoyed seeing me and obāsan chatting together in English.
Afterwards, obāsan treated me to lunch and repeatedly interrogated me to make sure I was safe and knew how to get to my hostel and how to get back home later. It was great! We parted ways and I resumed my touring schedule feeling well cared for.
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