Nintendo Word Play

Did I really come here? Is this the place that I want to be? …where I want to stay?

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I changed my tires last month. Usually, in my short life living in Japan, I change my tires at the end of November. That’s just what I thought I had to do, that the law mandated such orders. “Change your tires now or risk penalties while driving in the snow-ridden fields of Miyagi Prefecture.” I heard insurance companies don’t cover drivers who operate a vehicle without snow tires during the winter’s permafrost of Northern Japan.

But today, I heard otherwise. Conversations about what was on the news during dinner with the neighbors turned to issues about the condition of my car. To their astonishment, I told them I changed my tires last month because I thought it was the deadline. “So early!” And when I asked when the deadline for winter tire changing was, I was told, “Whenever you feel the conditions are right”. So, on this particular day, as the night-time temperature dipped, when the icicles could be felt looming in the dark, starless sky, people all over the Tohoku region of Japan were scrambling to change their tires. There were 3 hour waits at the tire and car maintenance shops. And even though there’s no official order, in a country that has a certain way of doing everything from bowing to using the toilet, everyone flocked to do their winter business on the same day.

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Thursday, December 17th. Today it finally snowed. A bit late and not enough. Snow has become my new California pitter patter rain of childhood. Calming and cathartic. Except this one freezes and melts away anxieties, worries, and the disorders of life.

Time trickles along and the end of a second year is looming near. Two years in Japan, another visit back to America for another good friend’s wedding. Life’s little games playing themselves out.

I’ve turned 29 in this country a couple of months ago. Another year closer to something and by my itinerary, I’ll be careening into thirties while I’m teaching English in the land of rice fields and curry rice.

Before that I participated in my first Japanese semi-traditional dance festival, the Suzume Odori (Sparrow Dance). Suzume Odori is a Sendai tradition that harkens back to the days of Date Masamune and the building of the castles by stonemasons. In their drunken after-parties, they were reported to have pranced around like loony birds, hence the Sparrow Dance. Sendai’s annual event for the dancing festivities is the Aoba Matsuri.

I joined forces with the ladies of Wakuya to partake in the Aoba Matsuri. And at times it was hell. Ruthless practice schedules, language barriers, language-less non-communication issues, and my inability to follow a basic beat reminded me of past failures in other dance routines, but somehow I was able to rise the ranks and become a high flying sparrow in the troupe. And after rain outs, sore ninja-clad feet, legs sore from twirling and walking, livers beaten by after-parties I’m glad I did it. Another nice check-mark on the list of new things to do in Japan.

On the day before my birthday was the last assault on the artistic dignity of the Miyagi area, I sang in a concert in town. It was my first time performing in front of crowd, a lifeless crowd but nevertheless a crowd. And I performed “Falling Slowly”, accompanied by Jane on violin, Takuya on the piano, Hiroko on backup vocals and Endo-lady on the drums (did we really need drums guys?). There’s no video or no pictures yet so you’ll just have to imagine what happened. But I finished, and checked another box off my list.

So here’s to another year as JET and more amusing things to put on my list. Maybe cross-country scooter rides, or moto-cross, or surfing. Who knows, but I know I need to do something to keep thing fresh out here.

I took the 3rd level Japanese proficiency test (日本能力試験) back in December. It was first time that I really seriously studied Japanese, the first time in years that I studied any subject intensely. And it was nice to know that I still had some self-motivation left in my weathered brain. And I passed, a small accomplishment. Perhaps I’m just good at taking multiple choice test, the 25% odds aren’t too bad, give yourself some “Life Lines” with a bit of preemptive studying and you got around 65-85% chance of success.

And what does passing Level 3 of a Japanese proficiency test mean? Well from one friend, it means that I can talk as well as his 5 year old daughter. But small battles here and there, small conversational subjects to add to a growing check list, and another level to prepare for. And if I can pass Level 2 in the near future one of my goals for living in Japan will be accomplished and perhaps the next step in my traveling and being an ex-pat will be a possibility. For now I’ll just try to understand the jokes that thrown at me by the old P.E. teacher at Nonodake JHS.

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Kanji: I like it. It fascinates and baffles. And I enjoy studying it. Recreating the shapes is different from handwriting, its more a creative process of joining lines in the proper order in order to make some recognizable pattern, kinda like drawing Doraemon’s face.

And sometimes I think my zeal for wanting to learn kanji is caused by the French. Vietnam’s colonizer, pillager, and ancient script remover. For there was a time when Vietnamese people had their own written language, something akin to Chinese characters, but it was tragically expelled from the writing system. Because you see, if you can tame a nation’s language, manipulate and control it, then you have an easier means to make the people docile. If you make a language more readable it paves the way for administrative control, smooths the lines for subordinating, and brings familiarity to the conqueror and the ensuing traffic of tourist. Most tourist like a semblance of the familiar when they travel, a notion that their own country is somehow linked with this one, either through borrowed food, tradition or language features.

So in my futile attempt to battle the linguistic wars of the past I will attempt to learn another country’s ancient script and regain a part of me lost in a war of languages and tongues.

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Besides, kanji reminds me of the spellcasting systems in old RPG games. Take an elemental magic, fire 火 and then throw some wood on top of it, 木 and then you got a burning fire spell 焚. Want to create a forest, take some trees 木, add some more and then you have a forest 森. You can make water spells and love spells, spells to build or destroy, its all there in your spellbook of kanji. And the good thing is there’s no MP (magic points) to use up. Its like being a magic user on crack. Zoinks.

I’ve recently realized that there’s a disparity in the organization of my life. All the time I spend on my computer, organizing files and streamlining my workflow, has made my computing prowess a force to be reckoned with. But the rest of my life has been left in the dust.

File Systems Organization and Application Launching shortcuts have been a boon to my computing time, but there’s nothing like that outside of the “box”. I spend hours on cleaning, making materials for classes, or just lazing the days away. Goals and dreams have been slowly rotting on the shelf.

I have my “Nerd Task” to-do list but my daily to-do list seems paltry to the queue that includes: “1. Install bootable linux on usb drive. 2. Build NAS server. 3. Evaluate the merits of PSP/iPod Touch etc…”.

Its time for a little refresh. And as the creeping of Fall inches toward Winter, with my spirits and mood waning with the incremental decrease in light, I have to figure out a way out of the “rut” that I’ve built around me. There’s a need for me to set into motion a plan to transform the way I live life again.

But my worst fear is stalking me in the distance, the fear that I’ll grow old here before I really ever grow up.

It was a long tiring weekend. So I went where I usually go in order to relieve aching muscles and tensed nerves in Japan, the local onsen (hot spring spa). There I sat in different pools of water, Goldilock-like in my pursuit of the perfect pool. “No, not this one, it’s too hot. And no, not this one, its freezing cold”. When I settled on the reclining pool with the jets that gently massage your feet, I happened to see something peculiar.

There was a small green frog, precariously dangling on the top of the window. He was outside and it was a two story building. Somehow he had managed to get his right hand caught on the web of a spider. He spun and writhed as he tried to free himself from the web.

Let’s call him Joey, Joey the tree frog. How he got there in the first place, I have no idea. He must have been the son of a noble tree frog king in Africa, a king that was exiled from his land. With the king’s prospects and honor dashed away, he died a broken visage of his former self, spiraling fast into the abyss with dreams of ascending to the throne once more.

In the shadow of the hopes that eluded him, Joey traveled abroad searching for answers for himself, seeking a new life and a new destiny. With aspirations fit for a prince, he managed to climb to the top of the onsen and possibly steal an ensnared fly from the grips of the spider’s web. But his ambitions were too lofty, thought he was the bull frog of the jungle. There, hanging by a thread he desperately fought, wasting away his energy, trying in vain to escape. But his struggle for freedom would also mean the imminent possibility a worst fate. His fall from the top of the window would send him careening down to the hard depths below.

I left the onsen. I don’t know what happened to Joey. My body was soothed, my fingers little dried fruits, and my questions unsolved.

Japanese summers are all about heat and humidity, especially humidity with the hygrometer peaking at the 94% range thus far. Spring’s sweet, cool breeze is forced to retreat by the sweat inducing wave of moisture. Its the antithesis to winter’s dry, freezing conditions that tells me I’m no longer in Southern California with its two seasons; hot summer and cool summer.

Japanese summer’s also mark the point in the JET calendar for transition. Its about saying hello to intolerable humidity and goodbye to good friends and strangers alike, for its the time that the new, rosy-eyed recruits come swarming into the country and the veterans and culturally-shocked casualties flee the island nation.

I’ve been starting the goodbye process early, its my way of fully showing appreciation to the people who’ve meant a lot to me in this short life. There have been the goodbyes that have ended with the promise of a future, perhaps another encounter on shores of a different ocean. And others that were abruptly terminated with an omnidirectional wave and a tossing of the last earth that buried good and bad times.

Goodbyes are always hard if you’re the type who opens yourself completely to other people.

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But on the bright side, I got a great bunch of people staying and the hope that the new wave of JETs will be able to fill in the gaps. So to leavers and stayers of Miyagi, I wish you all good luck in your next year of adventures.

I was a little shaken up this weekend. There was an earthquake but there were a few other things that shook my foundation.

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I came to say goodbye. Maybe for the last time. Wasn’t sure really how it would go. But I ended up saying hello to something new, a new start to an old beginning. A fresh start on something that has been so important to me for a great stretch of my adult life. And maybe now I can start forgiving myself for the things that I’ve done and let go of the weight thats been troubling me for too long. And maybe we can begin to rebuild again.

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It was a Tokyo weekend. It was the first time rolling out with some friends from my area. I usual had my own personal business to handle in Tokyo before so I always went solo. Tokyo was my escape from the regular grind of life, to disconnect myself for awhile but this time it was about connecting with some great friends. Over the weekend, I ran into some old faces as well and after a long weekend of partying and shopping its good to know who your homies are in the end. Thanks for the weekend guys.

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There was an earthquake in North Honshu this weekend on Saturday at 8:45 in the morning. It was located in the prefecture above me, Iwate-ken. The earthquake registered a 7.2 on the richter scale at the epicenter but it was only a 5 in my town. I was safely in Tokyo after taking an overnight bus but my other friends couldn’t get out to the capital because the train lines were all shut down in Miyagi. The text messages started coming in, “are you ok?”, “daijoubu desu ka?. Neighbors, colleagues, and friends contacted me to make sure everything was ok. I rang my neighbor to make sure our apartment was intact. Everything was fine. I got back to my apartment Sunday afternoon and there was little change. Some minor belongings had fallen to the ground but nothing was broken. But my friends up in Kurihara had more of mess to clean up at their apartments and some mudslides to deal with.

There’s suppose to be another large earthquake that’s going to hit the region soon, like in a few days on a different fault line. And everyone is scrambling to get ready for it. Earthquake kits, emergency plans, etc … Earthquakes have always been a apart of my life since living in California. And they’ve always represented the fear of the unexpected, those sudden moments in life where you have to act and react. I guess growing up being from a Third Word country you accept the fact that major disasters can strike at anytime, anywhere and that its a part of life. I never truly believed in absolute security and so I’ve always been preparing myself for disasters mentally and physically. And in the end all I can think to do is just relax and let the small tremors in my own heart settle down first.

Its good to know that some things will always be universal, even in Japanese. Like the word “balls” to describe umm… the very special parts of a man. 玉(たま) hehe (I giggle like a little boy when the kids say they are going to grab my “tama”).

Dear Penpal,

This week started out a little rough. One of those Mondays where no one talked to me so I studied. The new, weird, English didn’t make my schedule so I had no idea what was going and then we jumped right into 1st period with the 3rd grade students. And I didn’t know about it being a short day because the new homeroom teachers had to visit their students house (strange!)

But today was great. Great weather, had two fun classes with the 1st graders who adore me (and I adore all those lovable little kids), played basketball and taught some kids 21 (and yes I beat them at my own game), studied Japanese calligraphy with Sakuma(momma)-sensei (was praised by the teachers for trying), and then ran after school. On the way back I stopped by the park next to my school to admire the decorations, booths and flowers that are all in full force. Bought some yaki-hotate (scallops) and visited the family downstairs. Studied and now I’m calling it a night. Life is good, but it hurts not having money until the 21st.

Festivals all this weekend and next. My little town really feels alive now.

When you going to Kyoto?

Sincerely,
Bob Nguyen
Wakuya ALT