This exchange is from calling United, checking on a fare. I always skip right to agent b/c of the fares I request. Tonight went a little something like this.
What city would you like?
Agent
Did you say Bend, OR?
NOOOO
What city would you like?
Agent
Did you say Canton, OH?
NOOOOO
What city would you like?
Agent
Did you say Hanoi, Vietnam?
NOOOOOO
Hold on, I'll get an agent to help you out.
Maybe they've figured out that people now know to say agent to bypass their system so they throw out 3 random cities to irritate you until they finally connect you.
Tuesday, June 10
Noise
Every so often, I think of some ordinary bit of daily life here and how I should blog about it. Just b/c I'm used to it and think it's normal doesn't mean it's something I ever experienced in the US.
So, noise and the lack of is today's topic. It's probably boring, and I'll probably ramble, but I'm writing it anyway.
Japan is both the quietest and loudest place I've been to (well, not Bangkok type loud). All at the same time. When we first arrived here, nearly a year ago, our introduction to Japan was the library-like quiet of Narita airport. It was spooky almost. And, we were jet lagged so that added quiet the surreal feeling to it all. It was also that quiet when, 6 months later, I went to pick up Casey and Justin. My dog of course went kind of nuts in her crate upon seeing me for the first time in 6 months, so I had to greet her and calm her down first. And, the Japanese aren't really into PDA, so I had to quietly greet the husband I hadn't seen in 3 months. My parents still give me grief for greeting the dog first (which they just had to ask about which shows you they actually do know me), but they would have understood had they been there. I couldn't let her bark in a library!
So, what's loud? Akihabara, the tech district in Japan, for one. All the vendors stand outside their store hollering into megaphones. But, that's unique, so it doesn't really count. Grocery stores are loud. People don't talk, but they have these TVs playing 30 second loops set up around the store (drives me crazy, and I don't even know what they're saying!). Our sports store has a 2 minute loop that plays constantly over the store's loudspeaker. Takeda Spoooorts! It's loud, obnoxious, and everything else in the store is silent. Oh, and usually these ads consist of J-pop type music with a woman with a high pitched voice just talking talking talking. Really high pitched voice. Also loud; vans. I posted about the vans driving around campaigning during election time, but that's not the only time they do that. I still have no idea what they're saying, but I'm assuming they're advertising something.
And then there are the bells. They play at 6am, noon, 6pm and 8pm. These aren't church bells. They're town bells, and I've heard them in other towns, too, although not in big cities like Tokyo. The noon bell is what I most often hear, and it blasts Edelweiss. Our house is too far from the center of town to hear the bells from home, so I only hear the other ones if I happen to be driving around at those times. Therefore, I've probably never heard the 6am one. I heard When You Wish Upon A Star last night at 6pm, but that's not the normal song. Apparently, they're to encourage community unity and signal the times to wake up, eat lunch, eat dinner, and go to bed. Here, unlike in America, individuality is not a virtue. I've gotten used to them and think nothing of it other than, oh, it must be noon now, but when I actually think about it, it's a really good symbol of how subtly different it is living here.
The last thing I notice isn't really unique to Japan. It just occurs to me every now and again that I never hear city noises. I'm not in a city, so that shouldn't be surprising, but on rare occasions, I'll be on base and hear a fire engine, and then it occurs to me that I hadn't heard one in literally months. The local fire engines have a bell that they clang instead of a siren. I hear them occasionally, but they're not intrusive in the way a siren is. I don't hear police sirens or car alarms or house alarms or any of the other noises that I'd acclimated to in my city life prior to moving here. It's amazing how peaceful life can be without them. It's one of those things I don't consciously notice until it's interrupted. Going on base is a completely different feeling, especially when the fighter jets are taking off. I haaaate them. So loud. That's why we chose to live where we did; we can't hear them out here (and we're only a 10 minute drive away, but we're not in the flight path). So, it further encourages me to stay off base as much as possible, a difficult proposition when that's where my mail and class are located, but I try.
There, I filled paragraphs on a mundane topic like noise. All my teachers who hated me being so succinct would be proud.
So, noise and the lack of is today's topic. It's probably boring, and I'll probably ramble, but I'm writing it anyway.
Japan is both the quietest and loudest place I've been to (well, not Bangkok type loud). All at the same time. When we first arrived here, nearly a year ago, our introduction to Japan was the library-like quiet of Narita airport. It was spooky almost. And, we were jet lagged so that added quiet the surreal feeling to it all. It was also that quiet when, 6 months later, I went to pick up Casey and Justin. My dog of course went kind of nuts in her crate upon seeing me for the first time in 6 months, so I had to greet her and calm her down first. And, the Japanese aren't really into PDA, so I had to quietly greet the husband I hadn't seen in 3 months. My parents still give me grief for greeting the dog first (which they just had to ask about which shows you they actually do know me), but they would have understood had they been there. I couldn't let her bark in a library!
So, what's loud? Akihabara, the tech district in Japan, for one. All the vendors stand outside their store hollering into megaphones. But, that's unique, so it doesn't really count. Grocery stores are loud. People don't talk, but they have these TVs playing 30 second loops set up around the store (drives me crazy, and I don't even know what they're saying!). Our sports store has a 2 minute loop that plays constantly over the store's loudspeaker. Takeda Spoooorts! It's loud, obnoxious, and everything else in the store is silent. Oh, and usually these ads consist of J-pop type music with a woman with a high pitched voice just talking talking talking. Really high pitched voice. Also loud; vans. I posted about the vans driving around campaigning during election time, but that's not the only time they do that. I still have no idea what they're saying, but I'm assuming they're advertising something.
And then there are the bells. They play at 6am, noon, 6pm and 8pm. These aren't church bells. They're town bells, and I've heard them in other towns, too, although not in big cities like Tokyo. The noon bell is what I most often hear, and it blasts Edelweiss. Our house is too far from the center of town to hear the bells from home, so I only hear the other ones if I happen to be driving around at those times. Therefore, I've probably never heard the 6am one. I heard When You Wish Upon A Star last night at 6pm, but that's not the normal song. Apparently, they're to encourage community unity and signal the times to wake up, eat lunch, eat dinner, and go to bed. Here, unlike in America, individuality is not a virtue. I've gotten used to them and think nothing of it other than, oh, it must be noon now, but when I actually think about it, it's a really good symbol of how subtly different it is living here.
The last thing I notice isn't really unique to Japan. It just occurs to me every now and again that I never hear city noises. I'm not in a city, so that shouldn't be surprising, but on rare occasions, I'll be on base and hear a fire engine, and then it occurs to me that I hadn't heard one in literally months. The local fire engines have a bell that they clang instead of a siren. I hear them occasionally, but they're not intrusive in the way a siren is. I don't hear police sirens or car alarms or house alarms or any of the other noises that I'd acclimated to in my city life prior to moving here. It's amazing how peaceful life can be without them. It's one of those things I don't consciously notice until it's interrupted. Going on base is a completely different feeling, especially when the fighter jets are taking off. I haaaate them. So loud. That's why we chose to live where we did; we can't hear them out here (and we're only a 10 minute drive away, but we're not in the flight path). So, it further encourages me to stay off base as much as possible, a difficult proposition when that's where my mail and class are located, but I try.
There, I filled paragraphs on a mundane topic like noise. All my teachers who hated me being so succinct would be proud.
Sunday, June 8
It's gakko (school) time
I haven't updated my blog, as usual, so at least I'm filling expectations. So, here are a couple of thoughts from the last couple weeks of school.
Playground time: It seems the kids go run around the field every other week. Last time they did, I paid attention to the teachers. They put on bucket hats and white gloves before going outside. I guess tan hands are bad? But, the best part is that the kids run to Disney music played on the loudspeaker. I don't know why it amuses me so much, but it does.
Also amusing is all the engrish on clothing. One girl really loves her playboy hoodie. It's cute and pink and in a small girl size. Plus, it has English and a little bunny. What could be better?
I wish I could have pictures of all the English they wear. It's about the trendiest thing possible, and it usually doesn't make any sense. They must wonder why I'm always laughing. Of course, since I'm the only person in the school who speaks English, it's not like I can express why I'm laughing with my minimal Japanese skills.
Playground time: It seems the kids go run around the field every other week. Last time they did, I paid attention to the teachers. They put on bucket hats and white gloves before going outside. I guess tan hands are bad? But, the best part is that the kids run to Disney music played on the loudspeaker. I don't know why it amuses me so much, but it does.
Also amusing is all the engrish on clothing. One girl really loves her playboy hoodie. It's cute and pink and in a small girl size. Plus, it has English and a little bunny. What could be better?
I wish I could have pictures of all the English they wear. It's about the trendiest thing possible, and it usually doesn't make any sense. They must wonder why I'm always laughing. Of course, since I'm the only person in the school who speaks English, it's not like I can express why I'm laughing with my minimal Japanese skills.
Dinner experience
We had the most fabulous sushi last night. We had the best tuna rolls either of us has had, with freshly ground wasabi on top (and, wow, did it blow holes through our heads). We also ordered crab and eel on rice. I was thinking it would be the regular strip of seafood on a small mound of rice. No, it was a huge bowl of rice covered in meat. The crab was fresh, right from the tank, to do for, and there was tons of it. I think there were 20 large pieces, for about $15.
But, by far, the best part of the meal, at least experience-wise if not taste-wise, was the odorigui.
We're pretty used to being given morsels of unusual things when we go to restaurants not visited by Americans very regularly. I think it's a mixture of hospitality as well as a sense of humor. They watch our reactions very closely, smirking only after we give our anticipated response. Usually, they're very impressed that we eat as many traditional Japanese foods as we do. But, I have to admit, I was pretty shocked this time. We were handed little bowls by the sushi chef at the end of the meal. I was thinking it was a small scoop of green tea ice cream or some other meal finisher like that. Instead, as I brought the bowl down to eye level, I was rather surprised to see the contents still wriggling. At least I didn't jump or gasp.
Apparently what you do is add a bit of soy sauce, then slurp the little fish down. The you tube videos show people taking a fish, putting it into a bowl of soy, then eating the fish singly. We were told to add soy directly to the bowl, but I'm not sure if we were supposed to slurp the whole bowl at once, or grab a single fish at a time. Justin went first. And then, he went second. My stomach had been feeling squirmy already, and while I'll try everything once, I just couldn't bring myself to face the wriggling, live fish, when I was full and not feeling at 100% on top of that. The chefs broke out into huge grins when Justin ate my share. I wasn't worried about being rude or losing face. I was pretty sure that this was them testing us for a response. And, it turns out, after seeing videos and accounts of Japanese people saying, "I had to do this once. Now I never have to do it again," it turns out I was right. I have a feeling that after we left, they continued talking about the crazy gaijin couple, one of whom slurped down two entire bowls of odorigui (or, a dish of shiro-uo, live ice goby).
But, by far, the best part of the meal, at least experience-wise if not taste-wise, was the odorigui.
We're pretty used to being given morsels of unusual things when we go to restaurants not visited by Americans very regularly. I think it's a mixture of hospitality as well as a sense of humor. They watch our reactions very closely, smirking only after we give our anticipated response. Usually, they're very impressed that we eat as many traditional Japanese foods as we do. But, I have to admit, I was pretty shocked this time. We were handed little bowls by the sushi chef at the end of the meal. I was thinking it was a small scoop of green tea ice cream or some other meal finisher like that. Instead, as I brought the bowl down to eye level, I was rather surprised to see the contents still wriggling. At least I didn't jump or gasp.
Apparently what you do is add a bit of soy sauce, then slurp the little fish down. The you tube videos show people taking a fish, putting it into a bowl of soy, then eating the fish singly. We were told to add soy directly to the bowl, but I'm not sure if we were supposed to slurp the whole bowl at once, or grab a single fish at a time. Justin went first. And then, he went second. My stomach had been feeling squirmy already, and while I'll try everything once, I just couldn't bring myself to face the wriggling, live fish, when I was full and not feeling at 100% on top of that. The chefs broke out into huge grins when Justin ate my share. I wasn't worried about being rude or losing face. I was pretty sure that this was them testing us for a response. And, it turns out, after seeing videos and accounts of Japanese people saying, "I had to do this once. Now I never have to do it again," it turns out I was right. I have a feeling that after we left, they continued talking about the crazy gaijin couple, one of whom slurped down two entire bowls of odorigui (or, a dish of shiro-uo, live ice goby).
Monday, May 26
Friday, May 16
The good old days
Podcasts, the return of 30s style radio shows. I'm loving it.
We have 1 radio station in English, and it's pretty terrible. So I've expanded my mp3 player beyond my music collection and am experimenting with different podcasts. I can get news and politics unfiltered by what the military chooses to bring us. Or I can be entertained with stories and use my imagination unlike the drivel (albeit, entertaining drivel) of reality TV. I used to have a picture in my head of the extended family surrounding the radio during the 30s and think how boring that would be. But, I think I get it now.
How ironic, that the technology and widespread reach of the internet can return us in a small degree to an era that preceded even my parents' generation.
We have 1 radio station in English, and it's pretty terrible. So I've expanded my mp3 player beyond my music collection and am experimenting with different podcasts. I can get news and politics unfiltered by what the military chooses to bring us. Or I can be entertained with stories and use my imagination unlike the drivel (albeit, entertaining drivel) of reality TV. I used to have a picture in my head of the extended family surrounding the radio during the 30s and think how boring that would be. But, I think I get it now.
How ironic, that the technology and widespread reach of the internet can return us in a small degree to an era that preceded even my parents' generation.
Thursday, May 15
Chaos vs order
That's my theme for school this week. It's a subtle something I've been noticing about life here. There are millions of people in Tokyo, but it's the most ordered chaos I've ever seen. Take for instance, the crossing at Shibuya station. This seething horde of people all cross at the same time, but no one seems to run into each other. I'm amazed. 
So, how does this relate to school? The classrooms are pure chaos. I was expecting regimented little Japanese children, all polite and quiet. No, they scream, yell, run around (admittedly, the running around is during games and is sanctioned), and in general give me a huge headache. I like my quiet. But, then, they'll all stand together and answer questions in perfect unison, military drill style. They had an assembly, and all the students stood in perfect lines at military attention. The dichotomy is intriguing.
More disjointed thoughts on school.
There's a song about the rainbow. Is it evil that I can't help but laugh when the kids sing the chorus "I can see a lainbow, see a lainbow, see a lainbow now"? It just cracks me up. On rainbows, do you think it matters to know the colors in order? They know them by the song which orders them red, yellow, pink, blue, purple, orange, green. They must think I'm a big idiot b/c I can never remember the "right order."
I saw a box labeled "home making course" on a teacher's desk. I'm dying to know what the lessons are. Unfortunately, that's probably the only English in the whole box.
I'm a giant. I've said that before, but I realized again how huge I am when the top of the sink hit my kneecap. The sinks in the hallway (one whole side of the hallway is sinks, not sure what for) are even lower.
I left to go home for lunch. I get 2 hours because that's when the students clean the school. Let me repeat that. The students clean the school. I literally stepped over a kid who was on his knees cleaning the floor with a sponge. What a great idea. The built in cleaning crew is a good idea to have children afterall.
The bells signaling the end of classes are another example of quiet and polite Japanese society. They're little tinkling musical things. No abrupt clanging bell like I had in school. Really, does it need to be all that loud and obnoxious?
Back to the colors. The Japanese color for red is akai. However, it's also reh-to which is an approximation of the English word. On top of that they're learning "red" in my class which they keep confusing with reh-to. It just amuses me that they're basically learning 3 languages. Their Japanese-ized version of English is pretty much incomprehensible to me even though it technically is my native language. Yeah, they think, again, that I'm a big idiot when I don't understand them using English words.
Those are all the observations for this week.
So, how does this relate to school? The classrooms are pure chaos. I was expecting regimented little Japanese children, all polite and quiet. No, they scream, yell, run around (admittedly, the running around is during games and is sanctioned), and in general give me a huge headache. I like my quiet. But, then, they'll all stand together and answer questions in perfect unison, military drill style. They had an assembly, and all the students stood in perfect lines at military attention. The dichotomy is intriguing.
More disjointed thoughts on school.
There's a song about the rainbow. Is it evil that I can't help but laugh when the kids sing the chorus "I can see a lainbow, see a lainbow, see a lainbow now"? It just cracks me up. On rainbows, do you think it matters to know the colors in order? They know them by the song which orders them red, yellow, pink, blue, purple, orange, green. They must think I'm a big idiot b/c I can never remember the "right order."
I saw a box labeled "home making course" on a teacher's desk. I'm dying to know what the lessons are. Unfortunately, that's probably the only English in the whole box.
I'm a giant. I've said that before, but I realized again how huge I am when the top of the sink hit my kneecap. The sinks in the hallway (one whole side of the hallway is sinks, not sure what for) are even lower.
I left to go home for lunch. I get 2 hours because that's when the students clean the school. Let me repeat that. The students clean the school. I literally stepped over a kid who was on his knees cleaning the floor with a sponge. What a great idea. The built in cleaning crew is a good idea to have children afterall.
The bells signaling the end of classes are another example of quiet and polite Japanese society. They're little tinkling musical things. No abrupt clanging bell like I had in school. Really, does it need to be all that loud and obnoxious?
Back to the colors. The Japanese color for red is akai. However, it's also reh-to which is an approximation of the English word. On top of that they're learning "red" in my class which they keep confusing with reh-to. It just amuses me that they're basically learning 3 languages. Their Japanese-ized version of English is pretty much incomprehensible to me even though it technically is my native language. Yeah, they think, again, that I'm a big idiot when I don't understand them using English words.
Those are all the observations for this week.
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