flickers of a flashback

So I woke up today with a haze of the past clinging to the threads of my mind, so to speak. I dont think I ever blogged much about it because it used to be a rather dull lifeless story for me. But time adds animation and depth and with that begins my flashback. For reasons to be dealt with in another memory, I began college when I was 16. With the help of the government I was paying my own way and so in order to conserve money I started out at the community college near a large university. For a couple of quarters I commuted from my parents house in the countryside (roads with no painted lines) to the big college town (painted lines with traffic lights). After a few quarters of that endless loop, I decided to move into the Big City. I found out that at the time the University had a deal with the community college which let "out of towners" (mostly international students) live in their senior apartment-dorms. This brings us to the main point of the flash back, my first room mates. I knocked on the door, holding a small bag of things. A flamboyant man named Manny flung open the door and burst out with a torrent of words, "oh! you must be the new roommate! oh! are you The International guy? oh wow like, welcome to america! oh do you speak English? well, any case come on in, welcome to the castle!" Or something of the sort. I dont remember his major and I dont even really remember having much of a conversation with him. Mostly a torrent of bubbly one way words, I think he felt so old to me at the time even though he was younger than I am now. The other roommate felt even older. His name was Eric, he was a quiet math major. He affiliated himself on the opposite side of Manny's rainbow. Even so, they would sing mundane songs to eachother as if they were locked in some kind of everyday musical. "Giive meee thee remote con-troool!" "Wouldja miiind, wouldja miiind, bringin' me-a fork?" What I remember most about Eric though was on my first day watching TV in the living room. Suddenly he looked over and said, "You look pretty young, man. How old are you??" I mumbled something, turned a bit red. He laughed, swore, drank some more beer and asked me again. I mumbled again and got up and went to my room. He followed me and said, "Come on man, how old are you??" and with nowhere to go I crawled under the desk in my room. He was laughing and swearing, his beer still in his hand. "What are you 12 or something?" I gave in, "16" He kept laughing on his way back to the living room. I heard him tell the TV "Daamn, they let anybody into college these days."

another year

So 2009 is here. Just another year until 10 years into this new millennium. Just numbers I suppose, but numbers add up and begin to weigh down on you if you think about it long enough. For new years, me and my cool friend Kayo got in a train and tried to go as far as we could possible go in one day. We used this special train ticket that Japan Rail gives that makes such endeavors economically possible. We got a little past Shizouka, to a small town called Toyohashi. Spur of the moment travel is fun, I gotta do that more often.

A few days after that my New Zealand friend came to visit. She's in Japan for a few weeks, staying at different friends houses and what not. She came by my place for a few days. It was my New Years holidays (sort of) and so I had some time to take her around and show her all the tourist spots. I wonder sometimes what pulls people to go to certain spots, isn't every place just another place? A cascade of light on our retina can be oh so thrilling I suppose.

I haven't updated pictures in awhile. Maybe mostly because my digital camera is crap. Well, it takes awesome video but weak pictures. I need a better digital eyeball to chronicle my fade into the abyss. Hmmm. If only money grew on trees, or camera companies gave out free cameras. Or I could plug y'all into my visual cortex. I'll work on that.


So yeah, there are 18 new photos up on my photo album, if you wish to have a photo snack. And even a video of a bashful Mt. Fuji hiding among clouds. Enjoy!

Oh. And you know? How about some random corporate love? Years and years ago I bought a cheap Cantonese learning CD from a company called EuroTalk. It's basically just a CD of colors and numbers, but its great fun. A few hours ago, I tried to put it in my new mac and the mac spat out a "classic applications" not supported error. I e-mailed EuroTalk and in less than 30 minutes (no joke!) they said they were sending me a free replacement CD with current application design. I guess I shouldn't fall in love with this company before I actually see the CD, but it seems at this moment to be some of the best customer service I have ever dealt with. Gold stars for everyone.

language interference

As I mentioned a few blogs back, I have been trying to learn Mandarin Chinese at work, just for fun. I haven't made much progress, and doubt I ever really will in the short term. It's more a way to keep my brain active and adaptive. I also find it fascinating to watch my mind tackle another language from near the start of the whole process. I find all sorts of other previous languages interfering and even in some cases helping out. It's a bit of a patch-work quilt at times, a word here and a random guess there. A few weeks ago English popped up and interfered in a major way. But I wasn't aware of this until a few minutes ago, and when I found that out I decided to write a little blog here expressing my stupidity. The teacher was about 30, friendly, a vibrant woman. She was asking me questions, but I was slow, still waking up mentally. "Something something something family?" she says in Chinese seeming to slam at me a mile a minute. I dig in my mind for a memorized Mandarin phrase and throw it back at her in a ear-crunching English-Accent, "Sorry what was that?" She smiles, writes down the phrase with Chinese characters. This helps a bit. Just a bit. I make the mental connection as she says it again, "Who is in your family?" I think too long, and try to flip to a page in my notebook that covers the knowledge gap. Drats. Nothing. What do I know? I start out slow, "Mother..." she smiles and says OK so I continue, "...father..." she encourages me enough that older sister pops into my head at that moment (not at this one) and I enthusiastically shout out "...older sister..." and then I falter... younger brother, younger brother, younger brother, dang it. It's not coming to me. Suddenly like a warrior on a brilliant horse the word brother marches into my brain. But wait, I tell myself, I need younger brother--- not just brother. I improvise. I literally belt out what I think is, "Little brother." (I actually pulled the correct word from my mind but over compensated by adding little to it, and even after reviewing my notes it didn't seem like such a big deal, but...) The teachers eyes get big, and she starts laughing hard. I think I realize that she must imagine my brother being 4 inches tall and running around like a garden gnome so I decide to make it better. With my fingers I try to save my improvised Chinese, I show her the size of my 4 inch brother garden gnome and say, "Not this." This doesn't work. She busts out in more fits of giggles. I knew she was a bubbly sort of teacher but this was unexpected. I try to move it forward with my improvise explanation and say, "I have TWO little brothers." She is snorting a bit through her nose now and she says, "No no no no, not LITTLE brother. Younger brother, younger brother, younger brother." Hmm. I don't get it, but move on to trying to discuss my younger sister. I got it today. I was clicking around on a language learning site, and naturally my eyes fell onto the slang section. I clicked it open and immediately my eyes fell onto my constructed word. If you say little younger brother instead of younger brother it literally means wee wee. dick. cock. that guy. Uh huh. I even went so far as to say I had two.

onwards!

Moving towards yet another year, almost a decade into this new millennium already? Wow.

I must say I was saddened by the news that US shoppers stampeded through a shop so wildly that they led to the death of a worker, because they stepped all over him. Bloody capitalism. It's times like this that I wonder about the system.

I feel like receding into my memories. This time lets follow me back to the start of 2006, when I was living in Hong Kong.



I am sitting on my tile floor, looking at the steep hill outside my window. I hear cars and people beyond. I am sipping on some vitasoy lemon tea (my favorite). I woke up sometime ago, but not sure when. If I have no work my days tend to blend into awake and not awake times. I go out of my room. Past the old security guard who is listening to old Japanese pop music on the radio. The security door snaps shut behind me. A wave of pleasant city business hits me. The mixed spice of Hong Kong city life wafts into my nose. I walk down towards the station, walking past the giant frogs in the market waiting to be served as dinner. Maybe I'll get a cheap Hong Kong movie on VCD and watch it, in the last month I have watched over 50 or so. I change my mind. I step into the 7/11 convenience store. I find my favorite melty cheese tuna sandwich, and some more vitasoy lemon tea. Luckily here in Hong Kong the microwaves are self service so there is little conversation with the clerks besides the one way announcement of price. (Unlike in Japan where foreigners must know how to request or answer a question about the heating of purchased items.) But today has been slow, and the clerk throws a wrench in to the turbine and asks me a perky question in Cantonese. I look at her. From her smile, and tone I gather it's simply a conversational question. I scan backwards mentally and grasp the only word I can get with my broken Cantonese. I nod. She said something something something good? And so I reply with a half smile, "Good." She doesn't seem upset or confused by this answer so I turn around and microwave my stuff before heading off up a slanted sidewalk leading to a park and a swing set. The weather is great, wind blowing in my hair, and it's perfect for a small ride on some swings while eating a kickass sandwhich--- and drinking vitasoy lemon tea of course.

the future

As many of you might have noticed, I try to avoid political, too personal, and things about work on my blog. But just like last time when work bubbled into the core of what it meant to be me, I will post some thoughts. I am really really happy for America today. While in American college I had endless debates with classmates about what was wrong with American politics. I argued quite simply that politicians are supposed to represent America, but how can it be equal representation when most all politicians are rich old white men? Being a good politician of course transcends personal race and what not, but the fact of the matter is 99% of all presidents were protestant, and until now 100% affiliated themselves as Caucasian-Americans. Diversity, in all things, is strength. I see Obama as the example of a true American, his diverse family background and his strong political savvy make him a near perfect president for a twenty first century America. And on a final more controversial note, McCain and others claimed that Obama was out to "spread the wealth around" which was twisting one sentence Obama said in order to try to spread fear. But I never understood why that was a smear? What's wrong with spreading the wealth around a little bit? If the rich had a little less and the poor had a little more, wouldn't that make a better America and a better world? In any case, I look forward to seeing how this presidential term unfolds.

stolen words

The other day, I met an Australian friend of mine for some beers with him and his girlfriend. We were talking about this, that, and everything when suddenly he got quite livid about the fact that Japanese people don't borrow the English word for platypus. I pointed out that elephant and rhinoceros are among many other Japanese animal words that have endemic names. I thought he was getting up in arms about how a lot of other words are borrowed phonetically (computer becomes "konpyuta" and smile becomes "sumairu" and so and so forth) but he clarified that he was more annoyed that the word wasn't borrowed as it exists in English because there was no way for a platypus to be local in Japan. That they were local to Australia, and that it made no sense to have a "native" Japanese word. I argued that in Japanese it must just be a translation of the Latin (which I was wrong, apparently platypus means "flat footed" in Latin, I need to brush up on my Latin. Literally it means something akin to "duck's bill" in Japanese which I guess is actually a translation of the nickname "duckbill platypus") but none the less I don't think I really got how frustrated this made him feel. Flashfoward to the next day, focus on my Chinese class. (Yes, I'm taking Mandarin at work. Employee discount, and it's fun!) The teacher shows me a picture of a lady standing in front of the statue of liberty. He asks me (in Chinese of course) "Where is she from?" and I smile, knowing I can ring this one, and answer "She is from America." The teacher (a temperamental old bald man) nods, I've quieted his tamper for the time being. I have answered this question, and he wont get mad at me yet. (He tends to get upset when I answer incorrectly, something that puzzles me as a student. I'm learning, take it easy on me!) He asks, "Where is she from in America?" and I smile, confidence leaking into my grin. "New York." I say in what I assume is a Chinese accent for the place, I get close enough to receive another nod. (Something like "niu yue".) Then he throws me a curve ball, he asks me "Where is she from in New York?" I panic. Whaaaat. I try to throw on a direction word I am learning, "North New York?" He glares, not the faintest hint of a nod. I smile. Still no nod. That doesn't work. I try a Chinese pronunciation for "Queens". It doesn't work. But he decides to cut me some slack, he says, "Queens? ahhh, huang hou qu?" (Keep in mind, qu should be read CHU here.) And I have the "wow, that's what my Ozzy friend ment!" moment. I got it. It felt so weird to have a name that wasn't phonetically borrowed when talking about a borough of New York. Shouldn't it just be a borrowed word? How can there be an endemic word for Queens? It's maybe a translation, instead of a stolen phonetic copy like I was expecting. Thoughts shot through my head. If I didn't misunderstand, that meant something beautiful. There are a million sounds to describe anything. What we tag to things are only the sounds we have been assigned to associate with those things through our connection with our own language frames. There is an infinite way to perceive things. Cool!

cheese

i'm sitting in my ibaraki room, thats decorated like a glorified hotel. which is what it is, i guess. outside i can hear the chirp of crickets and the distant drone of a car at the edge of my ability to hear it. it's quite different than the constant roar of cars flowing past my tokyo house. recently i found out that my boss wants me back in tokyo. it will be great to finally come back to tokyo, enjoy life and sleep on my own futon again. but after being out here for awhile, i feel a little blue about leaving. life is full of cycles, the ending of this extended moment leads to the next. tomorrow is my last day in ibaraki. i ate cheese tonight, hoping that'd give me weird dreams that will inspire me tomorrow.

photos at midnight

So not really much to say besides announce about twenty-six new photos of my summer vacations. I didn't have a lot of money to go faraway this summer, but I did manage to make it up to Sendai and down to Wakayama. For those of you who might be less entertained by static images, the high-energy videos of my Wakayama and Sendai forays are alive, and kicking. Maybe a trip report someday, but with this he sleeps.

brave new world

OK. I am sitting here totally in awe and a little scared of google. I never thought it was a big deal before. But it feels different when it hits so close to home. For awhile they have had a "street view" option in their software that lets you get panoramic photo-realistic views of American streets. Some people were saying it was creepy, and I thought they were over reacting. And I still do. But. Yeah. But. I just found out google launched this function in Japan. And that I can sit here on my computer and get a 360 panoramic view of my neighborhood with photo realism. Heck, I even recognize some of my neighbors walking around near my house and... and I can even see the Ethiopian flag hanging in my own fricking window. (Why do I have that flag? Long story for a different day.) In any case, it's a bit weird. But from a more positive side of things, I started thinking how this has the potential to pull us all together as humans. If you can roll on down the streets in any country of the world, the "mystery" of our differences will began to evaporate and maybe we'll begin to see eachother as just people no matter where we live. It's pretty amazing actually, in a way that I think I'm not able to express in words at the moment.

glimpse

I always think I have seen most of Japanese culture and then I always get a glimpse from another point of view. Tonight I met my cute friend (lets call her Ms.I) and she was with another friend who was the stereotype of cute (hanging cleavage, long legs, all that, lets call her Ms.H) I went to a kind of stylish bar with the two of them in Imotesando. The conversation (in Japanese of course) was rapid and right down my alley, fun, bubbly conversation. We decided to have a "bar hopping" night, but by the time we left the first stylish bar the cash in my wallet was almost burned up. So I told them to go to the next bar (they pointed it out) and I would run to the ATM and be back in no time. When I got back, Ms. H was in the restroom and my friend Ms.I was talking with two old (late 60s) businessmen. They see me and one of them says, "Whos this fine young man?" and my friend says, "Yeah, he is a fine young man, he's a friend from college." and I am puzzled so I say "Do you guys know each other?" And the vocal old man laughs with a little bit of rust in his voice and says, "well, we are becoming to know each other right now." Ms. H comes back and after a brief exchange about how hot her legs are, the two old men leave. I am thinking 'dang! what creepy old men!' when Ms. I my friend says "yeah, I met some old guys like that last year, and just because we let them talk to us girls they bought all our drinks, it was so cool." Ms.H laughs and turns to me and advises me, "Be sure to turn into an old guy like that, ok?" The conversation twirls in the warm summer evening and the memory of those two old men begins to fade. But suddenly the vocal old man is back, this time with two young college boys. The old man says, "I know this nice wine bar near here, do you guys wanna go?" and I somehow expect them to react with shock, but instead they are smiling and laughing and agreeing whole-heartily. We move over to the wine bar, where he buys us a lot of wine. The conversation hovers on me for awhile, in an odd way, trying to figure out how much I could communicate I guess. The college boy next to me asks me if we have olives in america too, and I almost thought he was joking until I saw his ernest face. The old man says to me, "You speak this language quite well, so I suppose you know the word pervert?" Ms. H laughs and says "Already with that?" But I ignore the fact that he must be talking about himself and just say frankly, "There are a lot of perverts in Japan, so I am sure I know that word!" but he doesn't seem to be offended, he just laughs. "I am a pervert." he proclaims loudly and the girls smile and laugh. The conversation twirls into the evening air, my friend and her friend talking about how they have always wanted to eat dinner up in a skyscraper but couldnt afford it and other such hints. He pulls out his name card and recommends Ms.I and MS.H email him, with which they say they will for sure. Suddenly we all become aware of final train times, and it's a flurry of feet as we run towards the station. I run towards my train platform, opposite my friend's platform, shout a goodnight as I hop into my train and I am whisked away into another evening leading to the next day.

bad poetic lines

a dark broken sidewalk leading to my countryside bed. humid night hung low, whispers of a midnight wind. a clear ding of a small tin bell, i step aside, and a bike with a silent rider glides past in the darkness, the single dim headlight glowing like a firefly

wondering

walking to the station to ride one stop to work. the walk from the new place I'm staying at (yeah, my boss moved me again) to the station is about 50 minutes. that gives me plenty of time to think so i am walking and typing something on my cellphone.

i am thinking about...

if a friend comes over to our house we let him or her use our spoon or chopsticks but of course never our toothbrush. why? they both go in our mouth, after all. i asked some high level students, and one student had the very clever answer that we wash our spoons and chopsticks with soap but we dont do that with our toothbrushes. very good point. but then i started to wonder, why dont we wash our tooth brushes with soap? dont we want clean tooth brushes? culture is fascinating.

also wondering why i just bought an energy drink when i'm not sleepy. well, that answer is easy. the cycle of caffeine addiction has begun just like last time i lived in japan. its hard to pass on something that brightens up your day. supplements replacing the natural. hmm...