| Monday, August 28, 2006 |
| Montana: Come Hide Under Our Big Sky |
Summer. The open road. Endless sky littered with cottonball clouds. Bob Marley on the stereo. Washington, Idaho, and Montana appearing on the horizon. This could only mean one thing...
 ROAD TRIP!!
... or I should amend that before anyone from the MTV generation gets the wrong idea.
ROAD TRIP WITH MY PARENTS!!
The scenery was gorgeous, the drive itself (13 hours each way, 1 day spent in Bozeman visiting Sarah) was less so. This road trippin' was nothing at all like the movies. I read two books, teased my mom when things got dull, dug for family gossip, and whined for food breaks when all else failed. It's hard to stayed entertained when you're the only kid in the car, and nothing I did could compare to the great Vegetarian Debate of '98 on the drive across western Pennsylvania.
While at a rest stop (one outhouse, no sink) somewhere in Big Sky country, my dad rustled around in the back of the car before triumphantly handing me a moist towelette packet that he, for unknown reasons, has been saving for 20 years, transferring it from car to car until the proper moment arrives. As it was packaged in the Reagan era, was no longer moist, but the towelette had that soapy magic to it after being splashed with water. Its moment had arrived. In its arrival, so departed the chance for my father to use obscure lines about the passing of time and the possession of hand sanitizing products. I can imagine only one such scenario, and it would go something like this:
Sars: "I can't believe I'm 21!"
Dadster: "Old? 21 years? Ha!! I've had Moist Towelettes nearly as long!!" *shuffles back to garage, mentally applauding self for clever AND TRUE comment* |
posted by Raychaa @ 4:44 PM  |
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| Monday, August 21, 2006 |
| Wisconsin Fun: Next Exit |
 Bullet trains, aeroplanes, rented automobiles... I eased back into US life with a week in Wisconsin with my mom's side of the family. Wisconsin state, aka American's Dairyland, has lots of exciting features, like corn and cows and Culver's Frozen Custard. We saw this sign for Wisconsin Fun several times, but the fun was only to be had at that ever-elusive Next Exit.
 Classic farmland scenery, with Jesus Light pouring through the clouds. After flying for 2 straight days and nights from Japan to Korea to Chicago on no sleep, I boarded a bus at 6am for my grandparent's house and was seated next to an older man. Struggling for something to keep me occupied, I pulled out my library of trashy magazines: Cosmopolitan, Vogue, Marie Claire. (The classics.) Casually flipping through articles on how to test your boyfriend's fidelity, and the trendiest underwear for the summer season, the man next to me pointedly flipped open his cell phone and started dialing away.
Man: "Hello, Marilyn? Father Charles here. My flight was delayed, so I'm just leaving Chicago. Go ahead and let everyone know I won't be back in time to do mass this morning....*chuckle* ...well, I reckon I'll have to hear the choir next time... "
Me: *guiltily slipping magazines into my backpack and pulling out a dusty copy of Wuthering Heights*
Okay, okay, he made his point. And he made it loudly, so everyone on the bus knew that they were in the company of Father Charles. Had I no shame I might have kept on reading my glossies like I wanted to, but the implied neon SINNER sign buzzing above my head was too hard to ignore. The early-dawn Jesus Light, spreading equal doses of sunshine and guilt, might have been a sign as well.
 Liv and I spent a night in Aunt Gale's shiny new house before we all headed Up North. Say, that's a nice looking fridge there. Could it be a... Sub-Zero? Better make sure the Viking stove is polished when the CRIBS camera crew arrives.
 Our cabin was on Little Martha Lake, and Heidi and G-pa stayed busy catching lots of little fish. Martha Lake was just down the road. Big Martha Lake was closed off due to low self-esteem issues. Although it wasn't made explicit, the self-icecream therapy for said issues may have, in fact, compounded Big Martha's problems.
 The Otterson cabin crew: BRAM/UJ, Mom, Gale-o, Aunt Sue, Aunt Ruth, G-pa, and G-ma. (Emma and Heidi sneaking into the frame on the right.) We celebrated Keely's 13th and G-pa's 80th birthdays on the last night, and every member of the Otterson clan was there except Abelle and Sarah. The cabin was nice and roomy, and the whole week was relaxing. I blame jet lag for forcing me to stay up til 4am watching Degrassi High on TV and sleeping well past noon every day, but the hours during which I was awake were all spent in excellent company.
 We headed out one afternoon in search of a mythical waterfall, and tromped through buggy grass before arriving at this oversized puddle. We eventually found a nearby river with iron-red banks that had some weak rapids. The Dadster is now sporting all Montana State gear in honor of Sarah's new school, and with cooler shoes could be mistaken for an overgrown frat boy.
 We drove an hour into the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (Say Ya to the UP, eh?) in order to splash on the banks of Lake Superior. It might have that name because it's up north, or maybe because it just thinks it's better than Huron, Ontario, Michigan, and Erie. It's really big, and pretty Great, but... I've seen better.
 Hayward (where we visited in past summers, and quite the hopping tourist town) and Hurley (above) have a reputation as being brothel towns from the days of yore when the railroad was being used to transport timber. Hurley currently has a grocery store, Dairy Queen, and large assortment of gentlemen's clubs near Main Street. I reckon there's a reason they say "Hayward, Hurley, and Hell" after all... |
| posted by Raychaa @ 4:15 PM |
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| Sunday, August 20, 2006 |
| Tokyo Story |
As it turns out, Kamogawa doesn't have much of a nightlife. The thrill of Osaka not yet faded, I spent a quiet weekend in town before leaving for Tokyo. As it turns out, Tokyo does have a nightlife, as well as a daylife and morninglife and afternoonlife and everything in between. It was the new JET orientation in Tokyo, which means several hundred confused foreigners walk off the plane and into a fancy hotel for a few days of mediocre seminars and a few nights in the big, big, big, big city. I met Lauren, another Go Mad gal, and spent a busy afternoon recruiting for Go MAD, and I met some PEPY people as well. Four hours of "recruiting" (code word for "standing at a table and talking to confused baby JETs") for 3 days of "business trip leave" seemed a pretty sweet deal to me, and I spent the next two days shopping, riding the subway, and lounging at the Keio Plaza. Jarek organized a great prefectural night out, to a restaurant and then wandering to bars, so we all were able to meet and greet and marvel at the tall buildings together. The second night was a strange one out in Roppongi, which is seedy and gaijin-infested but good fun.
 Almost full moon is when the crazies come out. While wandering in an Okayama herd, we didn't find any crazies, but did meet some drunk locals playing beach volleyball in a homeless-person courtyard by the train station, so we joined in. Some much much drunker Wakayamans tried to play but they had no skills other than yelling for Toby to join them. (Toooooooobbbyyyyyyy!!!)
 This is like... 2 pints. Maybe. Tara, be sure to order the syringe drink at the Gorilla Bar back in Okayama! Who ever said chemistry lab equipment couldn't be fun, anyway? Beer in graduated cylinders is also slightly more legal fun than than Professor Leroy G. Skip Wade's recommendations on "How To Make Your Meth" from back in the Orgo days. (Helpful Hint: Most meth labs are only discovered because they explode, so use electric hotplates.)
 British boys in the British chain pub-- Rich on the left, and... I think one is Stu and the other John. But maybe not in that order. And maybe not those names at all.
 Amidst typhoon rumours, I made it out of Tokyo, and headed for the welcoming arms of Kansai airport. My week of sleeping on other people's floors culminated in a night at Rani's in Osaka. Her shirt reads, "When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults." Strange, but not Engrish-- more like cynical poetry.
This was my 5th visit to Tokyo, and I still have yet to visit the palace or fish market or Ueno park or any of the touristy sites, but I'm checking off more of the shopping and partying districts as I go. Mochidanielle had the idea to go nerd-watching in Akihabara (the electronics and technology district), so maybe that will be for next time. Listen up, Lonely Planet writers: Dorkotourism is the wave of the future! |
| posted by Raychaa @ 3:02 PM |
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| Saturday, August 05, 2006 |
| Himawari Love at the Institute |
What can you do in Rinku Town? Perhaps some shopping at the famous outlet mall? A visit to the biggest AEON shopping center in the world *coughwesternjapancough*? Perhaps some studying with 50 of your JET acquaintances at the Kansai International Center Language Institute, which will only set you (or the ministry of education) back $3000 for 2 weeks? Fireworks on the beach, even though the airport is a just few kilometres away? Let's do all of the above! And perhaps toss in a light illumination show on the pier as well-- Kansai airport is already sinking into the ocean, so might as well try to distract the pilots on purpose. Rinku may be ready for hordes of outlet shoppers and international students, but I doubt it can accomodate an errant 747.
At my schools, special ed classes are called Himawari, or "sunflower". This is A class, and we can pretend the A stands for Amazing, Attractive, and Awesome, but I'm pretty sure it's the last grade we would have received in Advanced Nihongo. We all had to clear a minimum to even be accepted into the course, but I felt like I was struggling all the time, and kept wondering what I've been doing the past 2 years if there are so many things I still can't express properly. I'm very motivated to get back on the studying boat now, if only to shake that sunflower feeling. Me talk pretty one day...
 4 Canadians + 3 Americans + 1 Kiwi= Himawari love. IanNova, Rando the Lonely Cowboy, my training room buddy Rafael, Speedytalker Angela, People-Watcher ChrisScotia, Ian-with-an-AI, D-san, Furuya-sensei, me. The teachers rotated through, so we mostly had this woman and Numaguchi-sensei, who was completely wacky/manic/off-the-wall. There was also an older woman who taught us keigo (polite/formal Japanese), who would ask us a question, and then sit on the edge of her chair, shaking, fluttering her hands, hyperventilating, and stage-whispering the correct answer to us until we got it right. Hello, contact anxiety!
 Chris, one-half of my Nova Scotia posse, and responsible for many good hours of conversation at Starbucks and some wicked freestyle karaoke.
 Wales/HongKong Serena and Venezuela/Michigan Karina and I demonstrate shadow-puppet gang symbols. I think I'm trying for "the goose."
 Where the party at? Floor 15! Singapore Julia, Newjoysey Julia, Rani from Oz, me, Max from the UK. Most of us went out for an all-nighter in Osaka on Saturday, ending up at Club PURE, which blatantly wasn't. I haven't seen so many sketch foreigners since being in Phuket, but at least none of the Osaka guys had Thai teen-glamour-model hookers hanging on their arms. While waiting for the first train back, Serena and I were standing in front of a poster for a host bar, trying to choose the best one of the 35 pictures. But with every single one sporting an elaborate mullet, and with prettier earrings than I'll ever own, none looked too appealing. During the week I also met up with lovely April from my Thailand trip, acting as a buffer on a crazy-expensive dinner and karaoke cafe evening with a lawyer she'd met the week before, which predictably was bizarre all around.
We all prepared speeches for the last day of class, and I think I finally understand why my kids trip up on the easiest words and mess up even when they've been practicing for days. Then again, maybe the thin guise of rehearsal amidst the cacophony of karaoke wasn't the best prep strategy after all. Also, when you've been putting your all into writing something in a foreign language, and then the teacher can't stop complimenting the stick-figure drawings on your visual aides, you know you're only one step short of hearing "Well, have you considered learning something easier... like Spanish? Or algebra?" |
| posted by Raychaa @ 8:51 AM |
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| Friday, August 04, 2006 |
| Osaka tastes like... a little Samurai warrior. |
In true Kibichuo fashion, I kicked off my new contract by being elsewhere. I spent 2 weeks on a Japanese course just next to Kansai airport, and it was fantastic. However, my English is now sliding downhill at a catastrophic rate. The first night there was a huge Top 3 (of something) festival, which involved lots of fireworks being set off from boats, and thousands of people crowded onto bridges. I haven't seen this many policemen since Naked Man festival, and their main duty was yelling into megaphones about which train lines were overcrowded as the entire world tried to get home at the same time.
 I took this picture of the food area after I got separated from Karina and Serena for about 5 minutes. I never found them again, and instead was swept along with the crowds and did the lemming routine since it's hard to do much else. I stumbled upon a fantastic taiko and dance performance in a little shrine area bathed in the glow of love hotel "A Your in Provence". (You pay less for purposeful typos-- the Tuno/ Chikn effect, I suspect.) The proper "A Year in Provence" hotel is in Namba, and you could probably purchase Provence for the price of staying there a month.
On the weekend, I saw Osaka-jo Castle with Angela, but we were too cheap to taste a little samurai warrior. Or maybe too principled.
The museum inside has a series of Help-Me-Obiwan! computerized projections in diorama boxes telling the life-story of the samurai lord who built the castle. It seemed quite wrong, but George Lucas was inspired by Japanese culture for many Star Wars elements (or so my junior high English textbook says), so maybe he came to Osaka-jo, saw these amazing presentations, and ripped off the idea for his movie. George, we know your secret!
 Here is where I would say something tasteless about Siamese twins or midgets... but actually we passed a pair of midgets (small people?) while cruising the Osaka Kingu fairgrounds, which were my first sightings ever in Japan. I felt momentarily bad about being such a heightist all the time.
 Coolest place on earth-- Spa World! Yes, Onsenrach found her homeland(s). There are 2 floors of crazy and tacky themed bath complexes-- Europe and Asia-- plus a waterpark swimming pool and restaurants where you can legitimately dine in hot pink or blue dressing gowns. Europe was the women's floor this month, and included Roma, Atlantis, and Detox. We chatted with these adorable girls in Finland, which had icy pools, 2 saunas, and a polar bear motif. The men's floor includes India, no less than 3 Japan baths, and the great country of Islam. I know that Asia is a pretty big place, and Japan is the center of the universe, but... |
| posted by Raychaa @ 4:24 PM |
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| So wrong it's right. And then wrong. And then wrong again... welcome to the inaka. |
| About Me |
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Name: Raychaa
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About Me: “No man, not even a doctor, ever gives any other definition of what a nurse should be than this - 'devoted and obedient'. This definition would do just as well for a porter. It might even do for a horse. It would not do for a policeman.” (Florence Nightingale)
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