Japan is NOT living up to its reputation for being the world headquarters for the latest technology.
The computers for student use at my campus are like dinosaurs making their way up a river of caramel. Old and slow. Also, in order to obtain a school email address, we had to load a program onto a floppy disk. A floppy disk? Old school! Today we had an orientation for using the school network on our personal laptops. It took them nearly an hour to explain it to us, and we had to change a million settings on our computer as well as install a new program. Did I mention that it's not wireless? There is no wireless network on campus. Oh, and we're not allowed to use Skype at school. In fact, we're not supposed to use the school network for anything other than "education and research purposes." As if.
Good grief. Back at the good 'ol Silicon Valley we just signed up for a user name and password, then had wireless internet anywhere on campus.
Current score: America, 1. Japan, 0.
I did learn a new haiku in class though:
akaishinboo
minna de watareba
kowakunai.
Translation:
It's a red light
If we all walk together
We are not afraid.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Saturday, September 15, 2007
K for Kimono
Awww, look at me enjoying my green tea ice cream. I'm so cute.
My host mom was surprised when she heard that my plans for the day were to go shopping with friends in the neighboring town, which is not a particularly interesting or touristy place. What she doesn't realize is that to my fellow exchange students and I, everything is interesting. The local 100-yen shop will keep our attention just as long as a castle. So off to the little shopping center we went, and spent the day there examining the interesting products Japan has to offer, taking pictures of almost everything and pointing out funny Engrish to each other. Here's one of the streets we walked on.
I found my way into a kimono shop and was drooling over the gorgeous silk kimonos hanging up on display. One of the shop attendants, a very tall young man dressed in traditional Japanese clothing, started up a conversation with me. Another shop attendant, a middle-aged woman, came over and suggested/commanded that I try on a kimono.
"What color would look good on her?" She asked the young man.
"Pink." He decided.
They found a beautiful pink kimono and white obi and the woman dressed me up in it, tying an elaborate bow in the back with expert moves. A couple other customers were watching her do it and smiling with approval. Boy were my friends surprised when they wandered into the kimono shop and saw me there all dressed up.
I know exactly what you're thinking: "Kelley looks so amazing in that kimono, I want to buy it for her for Christmas." Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much the kimono was, (and didn't want to ask, lest the shop attendants think I intended to buy it), but it was probably about $500, and the obi about $300. Sigh. They had polyester kimonos for a good price, but they weren't quite as gorgeous as this one.
On the way home we spotted this oddity. If you didn't know, Japanese vending machines sell beer and cigarettes. This decrepit, rusty vending machine apparently sells kegs of beer. Yes, it's a beer keg vending machine. Do they not worry about underage drinking here?
It was a great day for Engrish hunting, too.
Mmm, I smell curry cooking for dinner!
My host mom was surprised when she heard that my plans for the day were to go shopping with friends in the neighboring town, which is not a particularly interesting or touristy place. What she doesn't realize is that to my fellow exchange students and I, everything is interesting. The local 100-yen shop will keep our attention just as long as a castle. So off to the little shopping center we went, and spent the day there examining the interesting products Japan has to offer, taking pictures of almost everything and pointing out funny Engrish to each other. Here's one of the streets we walked on.
I found my way into a kimono shop and was drooling over the gorgeous silk kimonos hanging up on display. One of the shop attendants, a very tall young man dressed in traditional Japanese clothing, started up a conversation with me. Another shop attendant, a middle-aged woman, came over and suggested/commanded that I try on a kimono.
"What color would look good on her?" She asked the young man.
"Pink." He decided.
They found a beautiful pink kimono and white obi and the woman dressed me up in it, tying an elaborate bow in the back with expert moves. A couple other customers were watching her do it and smiling with approval. Boy were my friends surprised when they wandered into the kimono shop and saw me there all dressed up.
I know exactly what you're thinking: "Kelley looks so amazing in that kimono, I want to buy it for her for Christmas." Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much the kimono was, (and didn't want to ask, lest the shop attendants think I intended to buy it), but it was probably about $500, and the obi about $300. Sigh. They had polyester kimonos for a good price, but they weren't quite as gorgeous as this one.
On the way home we spotted this oddity. If you didn't know, Japanese vending machines sell beer and cigarettes. This decrepit, rusty vending machine apparently sells kegs of beer. Yes, it's a beer keg vending machine. Do they not worry about underage drinking here?
It was a great day for Engrish hunting, too.
Mmm, I smell curry cooking for dinner!
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Pictures and words
Today I was sitting in the lobby of a campus building when two Japanese students walked up and started a conversation with me. At first I was suspicious: they must be trying to get me to sign up for something. And although I found out later that they were part of an international coffee night thing, they never tried to pitch it to me as I was expecting. They just wanted to meet foreign students. I enjoyed talking with them very much, as they spoke in short easy sentences but didn't baby-talk me like my host father tends to do. We went to the supermarket and got lunch together. If speech is kept simple and said at a fairly slow pace, I'm able to talk in Japanese fairly well. There was one time where a Japanese girl was asking me if I had ever taken the TOEFL (Test of English as a Foreign Language) test. "TOEFL" is kind of a difficult word to pronounce for a Japanese speaker, so when the girl said it I thought she said "tofu." So we had this awkward conversation in Japanese:
Japanese girl: Have you ever taken the TOEFL?
Me: Oh yes, I ate it.
Japanese girl: ....you ate it?
Me: I...um...I have eaten it.
Japanese girl: You ate the TOEFL?
Me: Um...er...it was eaten by me?
It took a fellow exchange student to sort out the miscommunication. It was kind of embarrassing.
I have more pictures!!!
Here's one of the policemen on a pedestal I was talking about earlier. Sorry it's a bad picture- I was trying to take it without drawing attention.
My mom made okonamiyaki for dinner! It was delicious!
Japanese girl: Have you ever taken the TOEFL?
Me: Oh yes, I ate it.
Japanese girl: ....you ate it?
Me: I...um...I have eaten it.
Japanese girl: You ate the TOEFL?
Me: Um...er...it was eaten by me?
It took a fellow exchange student to sort out the miscommunication. It was kind of embarrassing.
I have more pictures!!!
Here's one of the policemen on a pedestal I was talking about earlier. Sorry it's a bad picture- I was trying to take it without drawing attention.
My mom made okonamiyaki for dinner! It was delicious!
Monday, September 10, 2007
Safety Training Day
My day was pretty dull, except for the part where a Japanese policeman was wrenching my arm behind my back and walking me around that way.
...maybe I should explain.
Whoever invented the idea of school orientations should be shot. The last week of orientations at my college have been wrenchingly slow, repetitive, and full of the obvious. In other words, a typical orientation. Today we registered for classes then had a three hour break until the next segment of orientation. I spent the break with two new friends of mine, fellow exchange students from America. Over lunch we discussed how much we miss macaroni and cheese, mexican food, Reese's Pieces, and how we might obtain a turkey for Thanksgiving. Nicole bought french fries and we drooled over them together. "It tastes like home," someone said.
I was pessimistic about the safety portion of our orientation. Japan has a lot of earthquakes. Okay, I got it. The fact that Japan has 10% of the world's earthquakes was repeated to us so much that I began to think that the Japanese were proud of it.
Somewhat mystifying was the way the orientation leaders seemed determined to dispel the very common myth that Japan is a safe place. "You may have heard that Japan is a very safe country," they would say. "It isn't. The number of crimes has been steadily increasing in recent years." This would be followed by plenty of helpful instructions such as don't walk down secluded alleyways alone, don't walk alone at night, and if you see a suspicious person, run away. Then this would be finished with "Welcome to Nanzan University." (How Japan's crime rate compares to the U.S., I don't know, but I really doubt that it's more dangerous than the US. So relax, Mom.)
Things got interesting when an earthquake simulator was brought out for all the study abroad students. You know, just in case you don't know what an earthquake feels like, they have this handy simulator so that if an earthquake does occur you won't be running around screaming "WHAT IS THIS? MY WORLD IS UPSIDE DOWN!!" It was basically a three-walled box on the bed of a special truck. Inside was a table and four chairs. You sit in the chairs and the box is shaken to the point of a 7 magnitude earthquake. It was funny when in one group of four a guy called out, "Oh my gosh- guys, it's an earthquake!! Get under the table! UNDER THE TABLE!!" and threw himself beneath it.
Next was the self-defense seminar. Some policemen came in and repeated all the don't-be-stupid warnings in Japanese, which were then translated into English by a somewhat inept interpreter who would say things like "we want you to move so or you feel pain." A larger policeman (who looked kinda like Uncle Paul) started demonstating some self-defense moves on a smaller policeman, often pinning him to the ground with painful-looking arm wrenches, hilarity ensuing. Then we each grabbed a partner and practiced some of the moves on each other. My partner, Nicole, was kind of a dainty girl who wasn't very enthusiastic about practicing the moves. The police officers were walking around the room helping everyone, and that's when the large one came over and showed Nicole how to properly twist my arm behind my back. "I-i-i-i-i-itai itai itai itai!" I'm sure he was careful to use only a tiny fraction of his power, but it was enough to walk me around the room with. My shoulder was sore for a little while afterwards too.
So that was my day.
...maybe I should explain.
Whoever invented the idea of school orientations should be shot. The last week of orientations at my college have been wrenchingly slow, repetitive, and full of the obvious. In other words, a typical orientation. Today we registered for classes then had a three hour break until the next segment of orientation. I spent the break with two new friends of mine, fellow exchange students from America. Over lunch we discussed how much we miss macaroni and cheese, mexican food, Reese's Pieces, and how we might obtain a turkey for Thanksgiving. Nicole bought french fries and we drooled over them together. "It tastes like home," someone said.
I was pessimistic about the safety portion of our orientation. Japan has a lot of earthquakes. Okay, I got it. The fact that Japan has 10% of the world's earthquakes was repeated to us so much that I began to think that the Japanese were proud of it.
Somewhat mystifying was the way the orientation leaders seemed determined to dispel the very common myth that Japan is a safe place. "You may have heard that Japan is a very safe country," they would say. "It isn't. The number of crimes has been steadily increasing in recent years." This would be followed by plenty of helpful instructions such as don't walk down secluded alleyways alone, don't walk alone at night, and if you see a suspicious person, run away. Then this would be finished with "Welcome to Nanzan University." (How Japan's crime rate compares to the U.S., I don't know, but I really doubt that it's more dangerous than the US. So relax, Mom.)
Things got interesting when an earthquake simulator was brought out for all the study abroad students. You know, just in case you don't know what an earthquake feels like, they have this handy simulator so that if an earthquake does occur you won't be running around screaming "WHAT IS THIS? MY WORLD IS UPSIDE DOWN!!" It was basically a three-walled box on the bed of a special truck. Inside was a table and four chairs. You sit in the chairs and the box is shaken to the point of a 7 magnitude earthquake. It was funny when in one group of four a guy called out, "Oh my gosh- guys, it's an earthquake!! Get under the table! UNDER THE TABLE!!" and threw himself beneath it.
Next was the self-defense seminar. Some policemen came in and repeated all the don't-be-stupid warnings in Japanese, which were then translated into English by a somewhat inept interpreter who would say things like "we want you to move so or you feel pain." A larger policeman (who looked kinda like Uncle Paul) started demonstating some self-defense moves on a smaller policeman, often pinning him to the ground with painful-looking arm wrenches, hilarity ensuing. Then we each grabbed a partner and practiced some of the moves on each other. My partner, Nicole, was kind of a dainty girl who wasn't very enthusiastic about practicing the moves. The police officers were walking around the room helping everyone, and that's when the large one came over and showed Nicole how to properly twist my arm behind my back. "I-i-i-i-i-itai itai itai itai!" I'm sure he was careful to use only a tiny fraction of his power, but it was enough to walk me around the room with. My shoulder was sore for a little while afterwards too.
So that was my day.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Sunday
"What are your plans for today, Kelley?" Host mom asked on Sunday.
"Actually I'm going to church this morning." I said.
"Oh really? YOu found a church? Are you sure it's not a wedding chapel?" She laughed.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." I said. I was a little hesitant to go all by myself to an unknown church, but (with a little encouragement from Jasson) I went anyway. It was a short train ride from my home.
Needless to say, at the entrance the two greeters were pretty surprised to see me. I suppose it's not every day a girl with curly hair and a nose the size of Mt. Fuji arrives at the church door. "Is this your first time? Do you have friends here or did you come alone? Your Japanese is really good, where are you from? America?? TWO WEEKS AGO?? Sugoiiiiiii desu neee!"
I had arrived at the church a little late, and was seated in the middle of worship. Boy did I feel like a gaijin. There were about sixty or seventy people there, almost everyone Japanese. A cute little boy, about three years old, would stand in front of me and just stare at me with a smile.
The church was small but nice, with a cross at the front, a small stage, a pulpit and a little stained glass window above the cross. The worship band consisted of two singers, a guitarist, a pianist and a drummer. The lyrics were projected with PowerPoint, and since they were mostly in hiragana I was able to sing along even though I didn't understand what I was saying.
I was very happy to hear that the songs sounded very similar to the ones we sing at home. People sang surprisingly loudly (all that karaoke practice, I guess) and a few people raised their hands slightly. We also sang the Japanese version of this song:
Lord I give You my heart,
I give You my soul,
I live for You alone.
Every breath that I take,
Every moment I'm awake,
Lord have Your way in me.
Later we also sung some more traditional hymns. After worship people greeted each other (lots of "konnichiwa" all around), and then the pastor gave a message. Though it seemed very interesting, his sermon was a little too difficult for me to understand, so I occupied myself with trying to locate the Japanese Bible verses on the screen in my English Bible. If I remember my Shogun movies correctly, Christianity was first brought to Japan by the Portugese. Thus the Japanese word for "Jesus" is not, as you might guess, "Jiizasu" but "Iesu." The books of the Bible also have Portugese names, and I was pretty proud of myself for figuring out that the Japanese spelling of "Johannes" meant "John" and "Petros" meant "Peter." Go me!
After church quite a few people seemed eager to meet me, including the pastor, and I had to go through the "nihongo ga ojouzu desu ne/iie, mada mada desu" routine several times. Several people had been to the US before, and one had been a visiting professor at Chico State, of all places. One fellow gaijin walked up to me and said "hi!" in an Australian accent. He teaches English and runs Bible studies in Japan. Everyone was very friendly and welcoming. Next everyone had lunch together in the church. After watching me attempt to do as the Japanese do and eat my hamburger patty with chopsticks, someone brought me a fork. Not go me. I had a really good time and will probably go again, being sure to bring a dictionary next time.
"Actually I'm going to church this morning." I said.
"Oh really? YOu found a church? Are you sure it's not a wedding chapel?" She laughed.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." I said. I was a little hesitant to go all by myself to an unknown church, but (with a little encouragement from Jasson) I went anyway. It was a short train ride from my home.
Needless to say, at the entrance the two greeters were pretty surprised to see me. I suppose it's not every day a girl with curly hair and a nose the size of Mt. Fuji arrives at the church door. "Is this your first time? Do you have friends here or did you come alone? Your Japanese is really good, where are you from? America?? TWO WEEKS AGO?? Sugoiiiiiii desu neee!"
I had arrived at the church a little late, and was seated in the middle of worship. Boy did I feel like a gaijin. There were about sixty or seventy people there, almost everyone Japanese. A cute little boy, about three years old, would stand in front of me and just stare at me with a smile.
The church was small but nice, with a cross at the front, a small stage, a pulpit and a little stained glass window above the cross. The worship band consisted of two singers, a guitarist, a pianist and a drummer. The lyrics were projected with PowerPoint, and since they were mostly in hiragana I was able to sing along even though I didn't understand what I was saying.
I was very happy to hear that the songs sounded very similar to the ones we sing at home. People sang surprisingly loudly (all that karaoke practice, I guess) and a few people raised their hands slightly. We also sang the Japanese version of this song:
Lord I give You my heart,
I give You my soul,
I live for You alone.
Every breath that I take,
Every moment I'm awake,
Lord have Your way in me.
Later we also sung some more traditional hymns. After worship people greeted each other (lots of "konnichiwa" all around), and then the pastor gave a message. Though it seemed very interesting, his sermon was a little too difficult for me to understand, so I occupied myself with trying to locate the Japanese Bible verses on the screen in my English Bible. If I remember my Shogun movies correctly, Christianity was first brought to Japan by the Portugese. Thus the Japanese word for "Jesus" is not, as you might guess, "Jiizasu" but "Iesu." The books of the Bible also have Portugese names, and I was pretty proud of myself for figuring out that the Japanese spelling of "Johannes" meant "John" and "Petros" meant "Peter." Go me!
After church quite a few people seemed eager to meet me, including the pastor, and I had to go through the "nihongo ga ojouzu desu ne/iie, mada mada desu" routine several times. Several people had been to the US before, and one had been a visiting professor at Chico State, of all places. One fellow gaijin walked up to me and said "hi!" in an Australian accent. He teaches English and runs Bible studies in Japan. Everyone was very friendly and welcoming. Next everyone had lunch together in the church. After watching me attempt to do as the Japanese do and eat my hamburger patty with chopsticks, someone brought me a fork. Not go me. I had a really good time and will probably go again, being sure to bring a dictionary next time.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Homemade mochi
My host grandparents are pretty awesome. They live on the other side of town. They have a really big garden -or a really small farm, whichever you want to call it- where they grow vegetables. Because of that, my family gets to eat fresh watermelon, cucumbers, figs and melons every day. I believe they also sell some of the produce at a roadside stand. This evening we went to the grandparents' house for dinner. The grandmother was cooking up some fresh mochi in a mochi-making machine.
If you don't know what mochi is, or think it's a kind of ice cream, let me explain. Mochi is the gooey outer coating you find on mochi ice cream. It's basically white rice cooked until it's soft, then ground up and steamed into an elastic white dough. I've had it before from Japanese grocery stores, but it was soooo much better fresh. We ate it with azuki beans, soy sauce,peanut powder stuff, or ground daikon radish on top. As the grandmother was making mochi, I saw her chopping up a very, very, purple root.
Me: Wow, that is definitely purple.
Grandma: This is a sweet potato.
Me: Really?
Grandma: Yes! Do you have sweet potatoes in America?
Me: Yes, but not that color.
Grandma: Sou desu neeee. (can't be translated)
She kept asking me a lot of funny questions like that, whenever different topics came up. "Do you have cucumbers in America?" "Do you have convenience stores in America?" "Do you have Saran Wrap in America?" Anyway, she took the purple potato and mixed it into the next batch of mochi, so the mochi turned a beautiful shade of purple. And you know how much I love purple.
After dinner the grandma took me on a walk around the neighborhood and showed me the local buildings. The grandfather also taught me how to play some board games. And they kept trying to get me to eat more food, which is exactly what my American grandparents do. "Eat, eat, there's plenty of food! Are you sure you're full? There's more food you know." Maybe someday when I'm a grandparent I'll understand this.
Before I left the grandmother gave me some little hashi oke, chopstick rests, made of Italian glass. I would like to give them a present as well, but none of the souvenirs I brought from America are nice enough. I think I'll draw them a picture.
Today, as usual, was extremely hot. Our house has no air conditioning, so I'm getting used to feeling sweaty all the time. So I was sitting there, feeling sweaty and fanning myself with a paper fan when all of a sudden it started to rain outside. Within about a minute, BOOM, it was furiously pouring outside, with thunder to boot. It was crazy raining. Looking out my window I saw a few pitiful souls who had been caught walking or biking. About five minutes later all the rain went away, and left the evening cool and dry. So I am in a very good mood this evening.
Thanks everyone for reading my "bloggings of Japan" and leaving nice comments.
If you don't know what mochi is, or think it's a kind of ice cream, let me explain. Mochi is the gooey outer coating you find on mochi ice cream. It's basically white rice cooked until it's soft, then ground up and steamed into an elastic white dough. I've had it before from Japanese grocery stores, but it was soooo much better fresh. We ate it with azuki beans, soy sauce,peanut powder stuff, or ground daikon radish on top. As the grandmother was making mochi, I saw her chopping up a very, very, purple root.
Me: Wow, that is definitely purple.
Grandma: This is a sweet potato.
Me: Really?
Grandma: Yes! Do you have sweet potatoes in America?
Me: Yes, but not that color.
Grandma: Sou desu neeee. (can't be translated)
She kept asking me a lot of funny questions like that, whenever different topics came up. "Do you have cucumbers in America?" "Do you have convenience stores in America?" "Do you have Saran Wrap in America?" Anyway, she took the purple potato and mixed it into the next batch of mochi, so the mochi turned a beautiful shade of purple. And you know how much I love purple.
After dinner the grandma took me on a walk around the neighborhood and showed me the local buildings. The grandfather also taught me how to play some board games. And they kept trying to get me to eat more food, which is exactly what my American grandparents do. "Eat, eat, there's plenty of food! Are you sure you're full? There's more food you know." Maybe someday when I'm a grandparent I'll understand this.
Before I left the grandmother gave me some little hashi oke, chopstick rests, made of Italian glass. I would like to give them a present as well, but none of the souvenirs I brought from America are nice enough. I think I'll draw them a picture.
Today, as usual, was extremely hot. Our house has no air conditioning, so I'm getting used to feeling sweaty all the time. So I was sitting there, feeling sweaty and fanning myself with a paper fan when all of a sudden it started to rain outside. Within about a minute, BOOM, it was furiously pouring outside, with thunder to boot. It was crazy raining. Looking out my window I saw a few pitiful souls who had been caught walking or biking. About five minutes later all the rain went away, and left the evening cool and dry. So I am in a very good mood this evening.
Thanks everyone for reading my "bloggings of Japan" and leaving nice comments.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Engrish fest!
Here's dinner, which my host mom made. We have egg tofu, miso soup, and an omlette over fried rice. The ketchup spells out "Ke," which are of course the first two letters of my name! How cute is my host mom??
Last night was sooo hot. In America I was used to the cool sea breeze coming in the evening. But here we're not so lucky. The days are hot, and the nights remain hot. Last night was particularly bad so it was difficult to sleep. Eventually I went into the bathroom, wiped cold water all over my body and went to bed without drying myself off. It helped. Right now it's raining, so if I need to cool off I guess I can just step outside for a bit. Thank goodness my host mom is letting me borrow the electric fan for my room tonight. I heard that we're going to have a typhoon tomorrow! As extreme as that sounds, nobody seems very concerned about it. How awesome to be able to say that I've been through a typhoon.
Boy do I have some great Engrish for you guys today. Really outstanding.
Last night was sooo hot. In America I was used to the cool sea breeze coming in the evening. But here we're not so lucky. The days are hot, and the nights remain hot. Last night was particularly bad so it was difficult to sleep. Eventually I went into the bathroom, wiped cold water all over my body and went to bed without drying myself off. It helped. Right now it's raining, so if I need to cool off I guess I can just step outside for a bit. Thank goodness my host mom is letting me borrow the electric fan for my room tonight. I heard that we're going to have a typhoon tomorrow! As extreme as that sounds, nobody seems very concerned about it. How awesome to be able to say that I've been through a typhoon.
Boy do I have some great Engrish for you guys today. Really outstanding.
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