Nani desu ka / What?! (on earth is going on?)

Have you ever had someone want to molest your hair on public transport? Keep this relatively clean, please - I'm talking about the hair on your head. If not, I can tell you all about my experiences (yes, plural for a reason). The title of this post pretty much sums up my reaction to this, and a few other events throughout the evening.

However, it also perfectly fits my experience of language learning on my 2nd day at university. We had a different teacher who is very keen to speak as little in English as possible, although doesn't always manage it. As a recent TEFL graduate, I can only commend these efforts. However, there is a need to explain what is going on very slowly and clearly in Japanese and check the class understands this. Because several of my classmates and I had not one clue what was going on. We knew she wanted us to read something. Or maybe, no, it was answer the first question. Or was it just do the example? Oh wait, I'm not even on the right page. Damn.

She'd only just taught us numbers so I half the time I only understood that she'd asked us to turn to a page when the student next to me, Tom F, who has studied a bit more Japanese than I have, began rifling through the handouts. To cut what could be a much longer rant on the frustration of not understanding, I need to study hard this weekend. And hopefully I'm going to make a better, more empathetic TEFL teacher when I go abroad next year.

The afternoon was passed confusion-free and with a stomach blissfully full of very cheap and oishii (delicious) tabemono (food) from the Shimo-tokaido campus. Sadly, this doesn't make for a very interesting blog post. The fun really begins when we all set out to an izakaya (Japanese drinking tavern that serves food as well) in Shinjuku for a party to say goodbye to one of the Japanese volunteer students and to welcome us JLSP students to the fold. First off, we get separated at Shinjuku, one of the world's largest station, and horrendously easy to get lost in. Finally, we manage to regroup and wind our way through the streets near Kabukicho, the red light district of Tokyo. Here's a shot of the Shinjuku at night:

We arrive at a place that looks like a garage but actually contains the izakaya which stretches much wider than its bizarrely nondescript entrance and goes up four floors - it was pretty much a Tardis! I then discover that even though I don't drink I have to pay 3,000yen for this evening. I pray this some kind of good deal, despite the price. After much questioning, I find out it is eat and drink as much as you like for a value up to that 3,000.

I didn't need telling twice. Lucy (another non-drinker) and I began to work away through platters upon platters of food. Fried chicken, fried octopus, fried shrimp, potato salad, octopus dumplings, gyoza (Chinese dumplings), pickled cucumber, braised pork belly, pork belly on sticks, shitake mushrooms, endamame beans... I wish I'd taken a picture. It was soooo good. Tom P also insisted that I drink some plum wine (priestss in training like their drink apparently) and so I managed a glass of that, and duly bowed when I completed it. I wouldn't order it again, but I didn't want to spit it out immediately which is an improvement on most alcohol.

Many introductions and fun conversations later, and the evening was getting late. We left at past midnight, with many people definitely tipsy if not drunk, whilst I was cheerily sporting the latest chopstick look. Sadly, they were only wooden disposable ones which inevitably led to comments that I was obviously pretty cheap...

With fears that we would miss out last train, we made it onto a different line. By this point, many people were a little worse for wear. Axal (on the right) felt somewhat neglected and decided that he should also share in the cuddles:

It was at this point that hair molestation on public transport experience number 2 occurred. Experience Number 1 was in London when a friend and I were attempting to make it back to Richmond on night buses, accompanied by two guys heading the same way and possibly on something more than alcohol. Whilst on this bus, I turn round to find one of the guys has got my hair in his mouth and is chewing it.

Experience Number 2 fortunately involves no saliva. A Japanese man became enchanted with the chopsticks in my hair, asking repeatedly if he could pick one out, and for me to spin round. Now trust me when I tell you it's not a particularly comfortable feeling to turn your back to a drunk person who's trying to feel up your hair. Eventually, I picked out a chopstick and gave it to him in an attempt to shut him up but then he tried to put it back in my hair, almost taking out my eye in the process. Antti, one of the Finnish students, safely returned it to me.

The party should have stopped as soon as we stumbled home. But Tom P called for more drinks in his room and beer-sharing man-love was high:

It was past 3am before I made it back to my room in a frenzied, hyper-state and decided to call England until 4am. It's 1pm the next day now. I am unwashed, coming down with a cold and sorely regretting the late night. But what an evening!

Reality dawns: Nihon University...or "We'll School You"

I had almost forgotten why I was in Japan. But then it was time to go to Nihon University for an introduction and for endless forms. I soon discovered that I need to be able to write my name in katakana and I really need to remember my address and Japanese phone number!

On Tuesday, we went to the university for our "placement test". This presented some difficulty to the six of us who couldn't read or/write a thing! Fortunately, we were let off any test that would have been horribly demoralising and instead we had a 5-minute informal chat (in English!) and then headed out to Harajuku for some hardcore shopping and general ogling at the foreignness of the place! Sunday is the best day for seeing the youths dressed up in amazing costumes. Here you can see me with some crazy Harajuku girls:

Sadly, our Tuesday shopping proved somewhat underwhelming for me. I actually

restrained myself from buying anything because I am acutely aware of the cost of living here. My commuter pass for 3 months cost me over 30,000 yen (over £224!) The Cambridge crew were also depressed by the fact that Cambridge didn't enter us for the JASSO scholarship. If so, by now I would have over £2500 in my pocket. Actually, I wouldn't because I would have been gripped by a shopping craving so violent that I would still be recovering whilst rolling luxuriously in my new goods. Still, Kaisa did a good job for me. Look at her go!

Yesterday was an "orientation day". I failed from the moment I woke up. In fact, I failed at being "orientated" before I went to sleep. I managed to set my alarm for the time we were supposed to be leaving. Somehow I managed to get washed, dressed, packed and out the door in 8 minutes. This impressive feat was then somehow ruined when I failed to understand English questions addressed to me by the other students and fell off a step in my confusion.

"Orientation" itself was not much of an improvement and included a "tour" round Ichigaya, the area in which we will be studying, which was less a tour and more of an obsessive photo opportunity. Things improved when we returned to the campus at Shimo-tokaido (where we're living). This was due to the gastronomic opportunities an incredibly cheap cafeteria presented me with. Not only did I get a massive and delicious plateful of Japanese curry, rice and tonkatsu (breaded pork fillet) for 360 yen, but I got a cookies and cream ice cream, followed by a caffe latte. Then they took us to a café and bought us drinks and more ice-cream/desserts. It's a shame that my gastrothon has left its very distinctive marks down my white vest top.

The evening ended amazingly with karaoke. Although not everyone was keen, the majority of Cambridge and the Finns turned the energy levels up to 11 and I bopped up and down like a kangaroo on speed.

Reality once again struck when the high of singing non-stop cheese began to sink down into the depths of our stomachs and the memory of a speech in Japanese the next day bubbled its way up. I went back and panicked consulted the oracle AKA the Internet.

The next morning gave us our true experience of rush hour on trains in Tokyo. Soaking wet from the torrential rain, we pushed ourselves onto the train with no room to even lift our arms. Or put your arms down if you're already carrying your bag above your head. A wet bag that then comes to rest in a Japanese man's face. But he didn't complain and so I didn't notice. The bag was then placed in Antony's face instead to the sound of much grumbling.

Our first lesson of the day was given by a very, energetic teacher who conducted the class in hellos and name-giving. We needn't have worried about our speech as by the end of this lesson we were reasonably well-versed in all the appropriate introductory phrases.

Self-introductions are a BIG THING in Japan. Everyone has to say "hajimemashite" (how do you do?/nice to meet you) to the group, before introducing themselves and then bowing whilst wishing the group well again! Here I was thrown off course by my martial arts training: never take your eyes off your opponent. I bowed, keeping my head up and staring intently round the room. The teacher, however, was quick to emphasise the difference between samurai and polite company! Fortunately, I was more successful in the actual opening ceremony and managed to bow correctly and blabber my way through some broken lines, whilst nodding and smiling in a desperate attempt to be ever-so-kawaii (cute - it's another big thing in Japan! It explains why everything has smiley faces. Hello Kitty stickers give instructions on the train!)

Lessons went downhill after lunch when we were given an hour-and-a-half-long speech by an elderly man over 70 who spoke very quietly in poor English about his life story. I had to change position in my chair every 10 seconds to prevent my head rolling and pinches on my leg failed to keep my eyes open. However, I amused myself by watching his ears. He said he was a Buddhist and he had very large ears that hung down and wobbled as he moved his head. They were perfect Buddhist ears. Some people are just suited to their religion.

Things to look forward to: a Japanese culture lesson on honne and tatamae, two Japanese emic concepts that became essential to my dissertation!

Engrish T-Shirt awards:

"We'll School You" worn by a guy just outside of the Nihon University campus

"Crack is Back"

"Masterpiece Bitch" - worn by male

Hot SUMO action caught on camera

Do sumos have girlfriends/boyfriends? Do they get married? Do girls swoon over their photos and try to meet them "backstage"? Wikipedia leaves me stumped on this issue. And if you were, say, sumo-inclined, would you date the thinnest or the fattest? Antony gave us some good advice: "If you're gonna date the sumo, you might as well date the biggest." Well, they say size does matter...

Just as sumos may experience pain in their training, so did our Cambridge Uni/Finland crew as we left at the nauseatingly early time of 7.30am after far too few hours of sleep. This was in order to queue at 8.30am for non-reserved general admission tickets for 2,100 yen, opposed to all the other reserved tickets which ranged from 3,600 - 14,000 yen. However, once we arrived at the dohyo, there was no queue in sight and so I began to feel somewhat cheated of sleep.

A grand tournament is held 6 times a year and lasts for 15 days. Each sumo fights once each day, beginning with the lowest ranks and moving up to the high est ranks. Much as we were feeling very privileged and cultured to have tickets (despite the fact it's a massive tourist thing), the prospect of watching over 8 hours of matches was not so appealing. A quick trip to the Edo-Tokyo Museum was in order, so we could continue feeling cultured. As with all museums, I never really learn that much, although I did find out that Tokyo's population was reduced from over 7 million to 2.4 million after the Second World War due to heavy bombing. Wow. Damage rivalled Hiroshima.

However, on a more light-hearted note, I also learned that:

1) the Japanese are watching you! We innocently climbed onto the fountain edge on the rooftop plateau and a security guard over 100m away fetched a loudpeaker to shout at us. Furthermore, in an indoor seating area, I had hardly got the water bottle out of the bag before the attendant was leaning over me to tell me off for drinking. Ironically, the water bottle contained water out of the fountains that they provide and to add insult to injury, it tasted of wood!

2) I still do not like onigiri (rice-filled seaweed wraps) as wonderfully evinced by Antony's photography.

To the main event of the day: the Grand Tournament! Check out the arena:

About sumo matches, it is important to realise that they don't last very long. To put it simply, some don't even last 5 seconds. As soon as one sumo is pushed/thrown out the ring or touches the ground with any part of his body (other than his feet!), then the fight is over. The fight preparation - clapping to attract the attention of the gods, foot stamping of evil in the ground and glaring at the opponent - generally takes a lot longer:

Still, even though we were watching the novices, there was some awesome action:

We then took a break in order to eat some chanko, the traditional stew that sumos fatten themselves up on. They don't eat breakfast, then train, eat the stew, then sleep which helps them gain weight faster. However, weight rules are less strict nowadays because, surprise surprise, being very very fat lowers your life expectancy quite considerably.

It was a long afternoon but finally, at around 4pm, the pros came on. The Japanese were obviously much wiser about this than us because the arena seats actually began to fill up at this time... Although before sumo wrestling had seen a lot like slapping, we saw a much greater variety of moves, including legs trips and arm throws. One sumo obviously had a taste for theatrics and came on beating his chest. The final fight though was over in seconds!

It was a very long day but a lot of fun. I wanna be a sumo when I grow up!

SHE'S BAAAAAACK

My blog from my last trip to Tokyo met a somewhat untimely end after I started doing intense, serious research (read: having too much fun). Now thanks to a wonderful exchange programme that Cambridge has with Nihon University, I am now back for a 3 month course of Japanese and for more curry doughnuts.

My story can only begin with the journey because things didn't exactly go smoothly. Firstly, I managed to tip 250ml of water into my handbag, saturating the contents, including my boarding pass. It was still legible but despite my protestations, the lady at the gate referred me to another desk in order to get it reprinted. I promptly approached this desk with the announcement of "Hello! I am water leakage girl!" Don't ever refer to "leakage" and yourself in the same sentence unless you want people to regard you with barely-concealed horror.

To top off this general leakage theme, I managed to get the seat on the plane with the fold-out tray that doesn't lie straight. The wonderful slant angles everything towards my lap. In an attempt to cut a slice of chicken breast, I near-catapulted a cup of apple juice over the elderly Japanese man next to me.

So....so far so good. After being greeted at Narita and then Shinjuku station, Antony and I lugged our stuff into the taxi and then into our raaaather nice accommodation (bedroom, kitchen, bathroom - and spacious by Tokyo standards!) to then be given a tour of the area where we're staying: Shimotakaido. Now, it's only 5 mins walk to that station but somehow we ended up..."admiring the view" along several other streets before we finally found our way back. By that point, I had been on the go for 26 hours. Whew.

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Today, my fellow students and I took a stroll round Asakusa and Ueno in the unusally high temperatures for this time of year (33degC+) but the not-so-unusual humidity. Highlight was possibly watching the wildlife in the the lake in Ueno Park. Turtles and carp and a duck all battled valiantly for bread. As a result, I can now introduce you to a world exclusive game: Duck, Fish, Turtle. Rules are the same as Rock, Paper, Scissors. Duck beats fish, fish beats turtle, turtle beats duck. Invent your own hand signs as necessary.

Wish Club so far....

Aujourd'hui je suis allee me baigner dans une riviere. C'etait tres fun et tres cool et j'ai decouvert une ferme sur la colline pres de celle-ci.

Je reprends en anglais...

That was a brief interlude, aided by fellow CSer Sebastien who is also staying at Mochan's.

And for the benefit of the non-French speakers, we went swimming in a river surrounded by hills, and I found a secluded farm, hidden in the hills. Check out the photo of me on the amazing bridge over the river.

In the evening, we watched yet another crazily long fireworks display. On the way back, with much wooping and clapping, we cheered a guy on a wall with a guitar and were briefly taught a traditional Japanese song. It certainly made that guy's day.

However, by the end of the day, the divide in our group was apparent. Seven French meant that they stick together and speak French. On the way back, we stopped to pick up a new guy. Jelmer, a Dutch CSer I first met at Yuji's, passionately claims "I can't take it if the new guy is French!!"
The new guy enters the bus: "Ello, my name is Laurent...."

See also the picture of Mochan. He loves us foreigners - we're another collection alongside his collection of cowboy hats.

Monkeys and Mountains

Today, I went with a fellow CSer (an American who has been living in NZ and Australia) to Mt Takao, a popular hiking spot about an hour away from Tokyo. It was very much a follow-the-trail walk but the views were fantastic, we got to go to "Monkey World" and riding the chair lift was pretty fun. The Japanese couple we went with even bought me some snacks and a mini-present as it was my 21st birthday. Key chains for mobile phones are very popular and I got a pair of kissing monkey heads. Yeah, that's right - kissing monkey heads ie. one for my boyfriend and one for myself. I had a feeling they were trying to set me up with my American friend. Earlier that day I'd paid for my fortune at one of the temples. I received the best fortune ever - apparently I'm not going to get any diseases but travelling with older guy is good for me, apparently.

That evening I went to the Wish Club meet right next to Tokyo Tower (see photo).

Wish Club is run by a Japanese guy called Mochan who in Shizuoka, a city nar Mt Fuji and organises events for travellers. I'm currently listening to him cooking, surrounded by foreigners as I type this. He says everything very loudly, very stretched out and shouts "WOOOOOAAAHHHH" a lot. He likes photos.

"Photo, photo! Japanese tradition!"

EARTHQUAKE and INTERVIEWS and COFFEE

After a fairly quiet day which involved not much more than laundry and a stroll round Roppongi, I met my first interviewee off the site interpals.net. I was slightly nervous as I had already had a message from a Japanese guy warning me that many other Japanese guys use the site to find girlfriends. And M, the guy I was meeting, had explicity stated that he liked meet girls.

I needn't have worried however as he turned out to be a very shy, very intelligent guy who I managed to do the longest interview ever (over 40min) and that was already after talking to him for at least 20minutes. In a way, this kind of meeting was perfect for my project which invovled questions like "Do you ever meet people off the Internet that you don't know?" - kinda answered itself! Also, it illustrated just how different someone can come across online as comapred to face-to-face. Whether this is a difference in the projection of one's self or merely a flaw in the medium is still to be established - I'm inclined to a suggest that both play a part.

I went to bed knowing that I had a busy day tomorrow - THREE interviews between 1.15 and 7pm as well as a 9am start.

I only slept for 30 minutes. This was mainly due to being squashed between two guys - one who just kept rolling closer and the other that kneed me in the bum everytime I tried to move. Just as I was about to drift off, the whole room began to shake.

I've often considered what an earthquake feels like. Describing the room as shaking is exactly what happens but fails to capture the moment properly for those who have not experienced it. The best way to describe it is to imagine what it would feel like if the room you were in was picked up and put on the back of a truck going down a dirt track. Apprently it was a 6.4 but I doubt it was that strong where I was staying. There was no visible damage although reports of collapsed roads and buildings elsewhere circulated.

After my earthquake experience in which I'd almost jumped up and down in excitement (pointless as the room was already enabling such actions!), I got up to meet my CSer friend Julia at 9am for her last day in Japan. She made me my very first cup of coffee which I am sure probably did me a lot of good. I met a lady for lunch (she took me to my first udon restaurant - yum!), a student for coffee and another lady for coffee. By the end of the day, I liked coffee. Well, I liked the iced extra sweet stuff they sell. I doubt coffee snobs would let it qualify.

Nevertheless, despite near-poisoning myself with caffeine, I was semi-hallucinating by the time I got back to Yuji's. I also fell asleep onto some poor Japanese woman on the subway. Gent;e nudging gave way to small shoves before I realised what was going on.