| Tuesday, November 28, 2006 |
| My first turkey. Almost. |
 
This tiny bird may look/taste like chicken, but everyone knows that turkeys are much dumber, and turkey farmers who export to Japan are much smarter since they can charge 10 times the price. For Nicole's and my first turkey attempt, she did all the work of defrosting and cleaning and pulling out the guts, while I was the salt shaker and oven supervisor. It smelled just like being home (without the inevitable burning phase... um... I mean...sorry Mom...), and the scent of it cooking lured Kim-Long from a completely different floor of the aparto, which proves that the way to a man's heart really IS through his stomach. Or at least through the olfactory glands, but that's not as catchy. This time of year, I especially miss my Tofurkey and Quorn. One of those might have been more appropriate in support of those little Thai orphans who don't eat meat, but not as American.
On this national holiday there was also something called "Ai Festa" at the International Center, which I assumed meant "Love Festival". Funny, the guy holding the sign was wearing sunglasses indoors. And then someone came in with a seeing-eye dog. And then another came... and another. It was a conference/event for the blind, using a rare PUN! A bit of black humour perhaps? Yvonne, who is fully-sighted, (pictured to the left of Jon and Ume) claims she *accidentally* tripped some dude (fully unsighted!) in the elevator line. Love Festival indeed, Ms. Yvonne!
|
posted by Raychaa @ 11:31 PM  |
|
|
|
|
| The escalator congo |
For a country that has so many great artists and cartoonists, and children that pop out of the womb being able to draw amazing pictures, why do we still have these weird signs? How does this picture make sense? Either the mother and the child have no right arms, or they are standing sideways in profile. This could imply:
1) Hey Li'l Lefty! Help your one-armed parent!
2) Kids, put your hands on your mama's rear while riding up the escalator sideways.
3) Paging Carmen Miranda... CONGO LINE, party of TWO!!
 |
| posted by Raychaa @ 8:34 PM |
|
|
|
| Sunday, November 19, 2006 |
| Everyone pretend it's "mid" year, okay? |
Where my Social Chair at, bitches?? A Rock, a Muse, and a Lackey walk into a bar... 
--Two nights in nice hotel, Inaka Princess status confirmed.
--My JTE rocks.
--My JTE does not get drunk before a presentation and then slide around the room in his slippy slippers while saying, "I wish I was a cute girl so I could get together with my male ALT." And then laughing maniacally.
--We raised 200,000yen ($2000!!) for our domestic violence shelter in Okayama.
--I can now public-speak without hyperventilating, vomiting, or having a panic meltdown first.
--Bob-san rocks, along with his Park-and-Park, and his Party-and-Party organizing skills.
--I'm really bad at trivia. |
| posted by Raychaa @ 11:39 PM |
|
|
|
| Sunday, November 12, 2006 |
| Okayama Guardians: We are volunteer staff. |
What we need is more crime. Or, at the very least, more crime-stoppers. Okayama already has useless police boxes on every corner. The new parking gnome patrol is on red alert, looking for cars that are obstructing... nothing. But it's not enough! We need something catchy and sexy and we want to be on television. There must be a way can we create some kind of "NYPD Blue" magic in Okayama, but how? Hey, wait a minute! Who are those strapping men in red windbreakers? Police? Rent-a-cops? No, they're the dorks on Hall Patrol that used to threaten you with lunch detention in junior high! But now they're all grown up and they call themselves...
OKAYAMA GUARDIANS: We are volunteer staff.
Exhibit 1: Guardian A enters phone booth. Guardian B holds door and watches for trouble. Four Guardians hold down the sidewalk. Guardian A tears down phone-sex ad taped to the glass and stuffs it into a garbage bag. Guardian B shouts something, Guardian A emerges. Guardian pack continues to next phone booth, light sabers blazing.
Exhibit 2: Phone booth clear, Guardians spot hooligans sitting on the sidewalk playing guitars. They are not panhandling. They are not inebriated. They are not obstructing traffic. They have exactly two fans. They are content. THEY MUST BE STOPPED. This is the moment, boys: can you smell blood in the water? Guardians, "Jaws" formation, GO!
Guardian D: Whoa there, sport. Is that a KISS song you're playing?
Busker: No, sir, it's SMAP.
Guardian: Mmm hmm. Four letter band-name, subversive lyrics... I thought I heard a bit of Gene Simmons and you know that kind of trash isn't allowed in the Land of Sunshine.
Busker: SMAP isn't even a word, it's an acronym. And they're like the Backstreet Boys of Japan, except they'll never ever ever be famous anywhere else but here. And what the hell is a Gene Simmons?
Guardian: Carry on.
We are volunteer staff. |
| posted by Raychaa @ 10:25 PM |
|
|
|
| Sunday, November 05, 2006 |
| Koya-san |
In honor of Culture Day, Dani and I went cultural and visited the most sacred place in Japan for Buddhists. This picture combo doesn't quite work, but I'm not high-tech to do anything better with it. So, here it is: adventure on Koya-san! Koya-san is a mountain valley south of Osaka containing over 100 temples all clustered around a tiny town center. We mostly tromped around and tried not to commit inevitable faux pas and copied what the little pilgrims in white smocks and giant tour buses were doing.
 Most of the temples are operational monasteries as well, and offer lodging. They serve you traditional vegetarian monk fare (shojin ryori) twice a day, which ranged from outstanding to strange to forest-twigs-mashed-into-cookie-form to slimy to mysterious.
 Auspicious light shining upon an omiyage and sweets shop/cafe where we had mochi and tea.
 Hey, what's in this little fridge...? No no, just kidding! I'm not touching anything and we waited until the street was clear to pose this photo. I still don't know what these little shrines signify, even after all these years...
 Another thing I don't understand and always forget to ask about: these little statues wearing aprons and bibs.
 The featured temple is Oku-no-in, in the forest outside of town. Walking in along the kilometre-long path under cover of mossy trees, there are a half million of these gravestones. If not for the voices of children, it would be completely spooky. Inside the temple there was a funeral service and lots of chanting and incense. We were swept along with the crowd into an underground area with walls composed of these tiny little Buddha statues lined up, each one numbered and engraved with a name. Several people pushed by us to locate the name of a relative. It was rather like being in some twisted post-office of the Buddhist afterlife, and very eerie.
 I adore hotels and ryokan in Japan, but this is the first time I've had my room and food all prepared by a monk. Or, a monk-in-training, I should say. The monastery where we stayed was simple and nice, and our junior monks were really sweet and nervous. The second morning we dragged ourselves out of our warm futons to watch the meditation service at 6am, which was amazing. Predictably, there was incense and chanting and bell-ringing, and our legs wouldn't move properly after having to sit seiza, but fortunately we weren't hit with sticks (like Sarah and Chris were). I think it's nearly impossible to be around monks and not have terribly inappropriate songs running through your head, primarily "Hey hey, we're the Monkees" and "Brass Monkey", but I did my best to be mature and keep my thoughts centered. (People say we monkey around...) |
| posted by Raychaa @ 10:03 PM |
|
|
|
|
| So wrong it's right. And then wrong. And then wrong again... welcome to the inaka. |
| About Me |
|
Name: Raychaa
Home:
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)
Profile
|
| Previous Post |
|
| Archives |
|
|
| Shoutbox |
For travel-volunteer junkies Responsible Nomad My favorite place, favorite kids
PEPY Ride: Cambodia
|
| Pretty People |
|
| Powered by |
 |
|
