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3.25.2003 Today it rained and rained, and that was about how I felt all day. I spent much of the time swaddled in gaudy purple raingear (it looked dark blue in the store's lighting) biking around town trying to find SOMEONE who could tell me what the kanji-choked piece of paper we received yesterday could mean. We determined that it was an overdue gas bill (that we thought was being taken care of by automatic withdrawal) and had tomorrow's date printed threateningly in the middle of a block of text. Well, we've had the jolly time of having our gas turned off here in Japan before, and we were in no hurry to repeat it. When our gas was turned off we couldn't do the dishes or take a shower with even warm water. We could HAVE water, but I think they put ice in it for punishment. Our stove top is also gas, so we lived on microwave magic for a few days. So I went to the old standby when it comes to paying bills, the post office, and asked them how I should pay this. Dekinai, they said, we can't do it. Please go to an Ashikaga bank. Ok, I thought, grumbling to myself, because all the branches that I could currently think of were long wet miles away, and because there is one right across the street from the 7-11 where I got money this morning, two minutes from our house. But Wednesday the 26th marches ever closer, so off I went, all the way back to wouldn't you know it, a closed branch. I don't know if it is closed for good, or what, but it better be, because a bank that's closed at 12:45 pm on a Tuesday ain't hardly a bank at all, in my book. Anyway, I discovered a heretofore unknown branch of the bank, and after waiting patiently for my number to be called (a solid 15 minutes to get from number 137 to 138, and I was coincidentally not really in the mood), a very nice young bank employee walked me through the process of paying the bill on the ATMs at the front of the bank. Hm. Is that all there is to it? I'm rather irritated at myself. Not nearly as irritated as I'd have been without a hot shower tomorrow morning, however. I made my way all the way back to 7-11 and paid off the phone and DSL bills, and hey, only 3 hours after I started, we're debt-free, at least as far as the Empire of Japan can tell. Are you wondering were I was during all of this? Well, it's spring vacation for my students, but I'm required to go into the office for the morning. I'm usually done at lunch time, but the office is also where all the good shopping is...AND my mom has a really big birthday coming up. She might be upset if I disclose her soon to be age, but it sure sounds like it will be a "nifty" one. Oh, you want another story? I GOT another story. Last night, Julie and I thought it might be a good idea for me to pop over to the video store, rent a DVD or two, and yuk it up with a (mercifully) English movie. Hey, great idea, except three hours later we still hadn't watched them. Why not? Oh, I'll TELL you why not. The video store is about a five minute bike ride from our house, and it takes some twists and turns through back streets (in America they would be called alleyways), some of which have streetlights that are not rigorously maintained. As short a time as it takes to get there and back, I always want it to take about a minute less, so I ride pretty fast. Particularly when I want to get home, get warm, and bring my wife the Diet Coke that she didn't even ask for... Well, I always think it might happen, but this time it did. I came rocketing through an intersection in one of these back alleys (I mean streets, sorry) just as a man in his seventies came rocketing into that same intersection from the small path, around a blind corner. Well, you know, I slammed on those brakes the best I could, and turned, but we glanced off each other. I stopped and put my feet down, and I was okay, and already apologizing, when I saw that he hadn't yet stopped, but his bike was instead wobbling away, pushed off its course, and then, horribly, he fell. And hit the ground. With his head. Really really hard. And his glasses shattered and fell on the ground in front of him. And he didn't move. "Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai! (I'm sorry! I'm sorry!) Are you all right? Ojiisan! (grandfather) Are you okay?" "Daijoubu (I'm all right)" he says, but he doesn't move from his position, face down on the ground, his legs tangled up in his bicycle, and, I suddenly noticed, with a sharp dip in my stomach, a sizable pool of blood forming under his forehead. "Tasukete!! (Help!!) Call an ambulance please!" I called to a couple walking nearby. "Daijoubu" the man weakly says. The couple comes over and quickly deploys their cell phones. They tell me that an ambulance is coming right away. That's great, I thought, can you help me get this guy's legs out of his bike? The people seemed to think it wasn't a good idea for me to take the bike off of him, but seriously, the ambulance isn't going to be here for ten minutes, and I'm not letting an old man stay tangled up in his bicycle while I stand idly by. At length, I gently move the bike out from under him and lower his legs to the ground. "Daijoubu" says the man quietly, and moves one arm, trying to get up. "Please, don't, ojiisan," says the woman. I called Julie on the phone to let her know that I was okay but that things were very likely to get extremely confusing in the next ten minutes, and it would probably be much easier to coordinate if we were in the same place. Meanwhile, the ambulance arrived and so did all the onlookers. This was a terrible sight. Even in the dark you could see a lot of blood on the ground. I felt so bad for Zander, and for this old guy. I know it takes a few people to drive an ambulance, but the army of people that arrived strained credibility, not to mention that the police cars that parked around the corner which produced another half dozen authority figures. So they got a few people over to the old man and they rolled him over and they dabbed away the blood, and asked me if I was okay, and so forth. As for the police, well, I don't know what it is about Japan that makes them so thorough, but I would have to say that they are LUDICROUSLY thorough. They made chalk circles on the ground where the man had been lying, where the bikes hit, where my bike ended up, where his bike ended up, where I saw him, where he saw me, and where we each should have hit the brakes to avoid the crash. Then they measured the bikes' heights and lengths, tested the brakes on each one, examined what was in the baskets of each bike, etc. While this was happening, I got an extensive lecture on getting off and walking my bike through intersections (though to be fair, it would have been much shorter if I understood Japanese a little better, not that I'm going to take their suggestion either way). This whole process was really ridiculous. There were 5 policemen there all running around. When one of them bent down to check Zander's bike chain, his white helmet fell off, so another police officer ran over there to make sure he was alright. All of them had vests that were blinking with red lights and they had flash lights attached to their pants. In a scary situation, seeing all of this was one of those things that almost pushed me to the point when I giggle at inappropriate times. Fortunately, I didn't give in. Meanwhile, Julie was waiting with a bunch of curious old ladies, who were informing her that it is their educated opinion that the old man is drunk, to which Julie politely nodded and pretended she understood more words than she actually did. OK, I didn't understand EVERYTHING, but I did get the main points. #1 The guy was a drunk #2 My husband is sure big, isn't he #3 We need a working light at this intersection #4 Where are we from? Where do we live now? #5 How old are we? I think she asked a few other more personal questions, but unfortunately, that's where my comprehension just ran out. After the ambulance left, the policeman in charge told me that it would be a good idea if I went to the hospital and said to the family that I hope the man is okay, and that I'm sorry he was hurt. He also strongly suggested I bring someone who can understand Japanese, for God's sake. He gave me the address of a hospital that, we later found, was a good ten kilometers away; how he expected me to get there by bike before the man went home I have no idea. Luckily for us, our good friends Hiroshi and Chisato Matsumoto could be roused, even at 10 pm (bless them), so they drove us to the hospital, translated our English, and allowed us to communicate to the man and his wife and son that we were terribly sorry and hoped he would be okay. The man's family said that they knew he had been drinking, and so the accident wasn't my fault, and that they appreciated our coming out. The man received five stitches on his head, and looked awful. These sorts of exchanges are, from what I can tell, a little awkward in Japanese, because there isn't really a comfortable way to end the conversation, so there was a lot of bowing, a lot of "thank you", "I'm sorry", "excuse me", "please", and more bowing before we could edge our way back out the door. We are so lucky to know the Matsumotos. They teach us Japanese, loan us bikes when we have visitors, take me to the grocery store and tell me what stuff really is and what you really do with it, loan me their sewing machine, and the list goes on and on. They have helped us so much, but all with a breath of kindness that takes away the sting of being a stupid, baby, can't do much for myself still, foreigner. Apparently, going to visit someone in the hospital is a show of good faith that can legitimately get you out of legal trouble later, if complications arise. The last thing I need is to be deported or thrown in jail, after all. I signed an agreement before we could enter Japan, that I promise to support Zander financially, because he entered on a dependants VISA. Not wanting to be so materialistic, I added that I would also support him emotionally. It was all a big joke way back then. But seriously, what kind of support can I be if he's in jail? On the plus side, the movies were eventually pretty good. .: posted by Zander Cannon 4:29 PM Tokyo Time 3.6.2003 Today was graduation day for my 8th grade students. For the last week or so we've been busy scrubbing down the school, getting ready for today, the big day. I haven't really been scrubbing because everyone has the same assigned cleaning job everyday, and I haven't been given one. I know...I'm REALLY going to look into it, but for now I hassle students in English while they wax the floors and clean the toilets. There are a group of girls that really want to know who among them is the #1 most beautiful girl and who is the #1 most ugly gorilla. So, graduation began today just before 10am. The teachers were dressed pretty formally, most of us were in dark suits. The men wore white or light yellow neckties with their dark suits, and the principal wore a suit with tails. Two of the women teachers from the graduating class (san nen sei) wore kimonos. Lots of parents attended, along with member of the board of education, the PTA, and some police officers from the area. This whole ceremony was as serious and elaborate as an American High School graduation. There was lots of sitting and standing and bowing and speeches. Of course everything was in Japanese, so I understood a few words here and there, but really, I was lost. Actually, I was feeling pretty good because I was recognizing when the officiant was telling us to stand, until I didn't hear that he only told the students to stand and I tried to stand up too. Luckily an embarassed teacher clutched onto my arm just in time! Another little mistake was when I told that same teacher how beautiful their school song sounded...except that beautiful song was the national anthem. The ceremony took about 2 hours, and the graduates filed out while the lower classes played the ACTUAL school song on their recorders. I would say that half of the graduating boys and girls cried while they left. I probably looked silly crying too, but I couldn't help it. We didn't have a big graduation ceremony at my Jr. High school in Nebraska, but I do remember crying those same tears, and feeling like I'd never be closer to anyone than my friends that year. "Natsukashii desu". (Makes me reminisce) For the very end of the ceremony, all the underclassmen held up arches covered with paper flowers and the students walked through them with their parents. It's sweet to see that people are the same everywhere...Most of the moms cried while they were walking, while the students either held onto them for dear life, or would only walk behind them. I'm just sorry that I forgot my camera! Take care, Love, Julie Whoa, where does the time go? Sorry about the little blip in the schedule. The theme of this entry will be my thoughts on how we have changed since we have come to Japan. I mean, we don't feel the same as we did when we got here, and Japan hasn't changed much, so it's got to be us. 1. Language. Obviously, we're going to pick up the lingo in the country we live in. I think we both thought it would come a little faster, and that we would be pretty fluent by now. Let me tell you what, we are not fluent. I feel like we can get across simple ideas, like where's this, what's that, who's that guy, I'm from America, we've lived here 7 months, and why do we have to pay ¥3000/month for TV service if there are commercials (mmm...not yet, but I'm pretty motivated to work on that one). I feel like I can do my written homework in Japanese pretty well, though I still probably only know 100 or so of the 2000 kanji you are supposed to know. Conversational chatting is still barely functional. But the important part is, we are only comparing ourselves to native Japanese speakers and people who have been here 2-3 years. Once new people show up this summer, I bet we'll feel like international spies with all the Japanese we know. 2. Comfort level. We've gotten used to feeling cold in the winter and hot in the summer. There's only so much you can do about it, other than wear more (or fewer) clothes. And our couch is a fold-up futon couch, and so not the kind that you can just wrap yourself in a blanket and lie on. You kind of have to be sitting on it pretty straight, or you'll flop right off the end, and knock over the lamp. As it is winter, we do our best to stay warm, and what happens is that we have two rooms in our house that are pretty much always a livable temperature, except at night while we're sleeping and in the middle of the day when we're not here. So, uh, I use the term "always" pretty loosely. But anyway, the other part of our apartment, which is the kitchen, bathroom, and shower, is the same temperature as the outdoors. That's not so bad, because it usually stays above 0 Celsius (32 Fahrenheit), but still, walking to the bathroom in bare feet and boxer shorts at 3 am is kind of chilly. Probably another aspect of this comfort thing is that we don't have a car and so when it rains, tough beans, we just have to put on our raingear, get on our bikes, and hustle, baby, hustle. 3. We are more open to trying non-Japanese things. When you first get to another country, if you're a enthusiastic participant that is, you generally want to eat the food of that country, try out the traditions of that country, and immerse yourself in that country the best you can. Well, after a certain period of time has passed, you get to the point where you realize that a good chunk of the Japanese experience at least, is stuff from other countries. So we go out for Indian food, Chinese food, Cambodian food, hamburgers, you name it. Heck, we'll even go to Maku (McDonalds) and Subway now and again. Don't tell the embassy; they'll be really mad. 4. We've given more thought to the people we would encounter in America who did not speak English. Those people could have been Nobel Prize winners for all we know! We've been here for seven months and we still can't speak Japanese worth a hill of beans! And we've been studying like madmen! Er... "mad couple". Julie and I hereby resolve to put a little more effort towards helping out people in the US who don't speak English. I knew a Mexican guy in my Tae Kwon Do class (of all things) in Minnesota who didn't speak more than a couple words of English, and even though I speak a smattering of Spanish, I was too embarassed by my lack of skill to try talking to him very often. How irritating that is when you're on the other side! If you can talk to me, please talk to me! I'm dyin' here! So... we'll at least want to talk to Japanese people in the US that look lost in the grocery store. And I guess I'll try to get my Spanish up to snuff too (and boy, learning another language sounds so tempting right now). 5. I suppose the biggest way we've changed in Japan is that we know enough to know that we don't know a dang thing. I could make the most ludicrous pronouncements on this website when we first got here, but now I feel like I should research things before I say them. Yeah, right, like that's going to ever happen. One last thing. I feel like I should dispel a rumor about Japan: Simulation see-through skirts are not all the rage here. That was a clever hoax. It was also a major disappointment. .: posted by Zander Cannon 10:14 AM Tokyo Time 
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