The good old days. I don't mean freshman year, when you spilled beer all over the floor doing a keg stand for the first time. I'm talking about a few hundred years ago, well before they invented freshman year. This was the chronological focus of our day trip we took last Saturday, the first in a series of excursions sponsored in a program to turn us into cultured dudes, and thereby be able to show up history majors. (That's what it says on the website! It's not? No? Never mind.) Our trip took us out to Arashiyama, which comes from the characters 嵐 (arashi), meaning storm, and 山 (yama), meaning mountain. Yeah, now you're starting to kick ass at Japanese, guys! Out near Kyoto, Arashiyama is home to about a million shrines, temples, and, yes, a monkey park! We had a nice, lengthy tour of a few different train lines from Osaka, but only once we stepped off the train did it hit me how far we'd traveled. Whereas I have concrete, wood, or carpeting under my feet twenty-four hours a day in the city, I suddenly found myself surrounded by broad swathes of grass, a late-summer lush green, swift rivers and calm ponds, and low trees scattered as though they were a herd grazing in this enormously open space. I took in the profusion of raw nature around me as we walked to our first destination, a temple called Tenryu-ji, or--wait for it--the Temple of the Heavenly Dragon. It was founded centuries ago to venerate Buddha. Let me tell you something: if I were built a temple like this one, I would not complain. The premises abounded with outdoor walkways from which one can view more of abundant and gorgeous flora as well as meticulously-cultivated rock gardens. There's also a large pond where the monks who maintained the temple in ancient times would reflect upon and unwind. In short, it was not a bad place to kill some time.
We did lunch in the town nearby, then hopped another train to go to our afternoon activity--making candy! Specifically, we made wagashi, a treat that's been around since well before Martel was founded, by which I mean the Japanese were making it about 1500 years ago. This tasty stuff is made by molding red bean paste and mochi, or rice cake, into assorted shapes--basically like Play-doh you're actually supposed to eat. We were instructed to replicate the professionally-made examples in front of us, a persimmon and a flower. Needless to say, you could've figured out who made which ones, but both were equally delicious and sugary, and by "sugary" I mean to say you will really start to feel like standing up and walking around and maybe running all the way home and back again.
The rest of the weekend was pretty chill--more sushi, more homework. This is the way life is, more or less. Things have started to fall into a normal routine. I've picked all of my classes; unfortunately, none of them are Ninjutsu 101. The first is Japanese healing and psychology, which mandates one meditation session per class and promises a field trip to a location of our choice. Our instructor for that class is a Buddhist reverend and a doctor in psychotherapy, and is about the most mellow teacher I've ever had. Next is business practices, which is all about learning business and social etiquette, a topic that is fiendishly complicated; I've already taken pages of notes and accepted tons of handouts about the proper way to exchange business cards and seat clients and staff members for meetings. But this too looks like it'll be a fun time. Lastly is a class preparing me for level 3 of the Japanese Language Proficiency Test (JLPT). This is gonna be a trip for sure; the practice test was pretty tough, but then I guess it was supposed to be. And if I pass the test in December, I'll get a shiny certificate for it! There's levels one through five; level one is a pain for even native speakers, whereas level five, I assume, is how to write your name in Japanese. Level three is all right; I wouldn't be able to get a job with a company in Japan, but I still have a lot of stuff I want to do with Japanese before I start a career in Asia, so it'll be nice to be able to prove that I've still got some skill.
Also, my roommate finally moved in! Tatsuki had been at rugby camp for the past while, but he finally made it out to the apartment. So far we've both been pretty busy--he caddies at a golf course and cooks at an Italian restaurant, and I've been perpetually bent over, Atlas-like, under the weight of homework--but we've still had some time to chill. To my impressment, he's been studying English for a while on his own, and will be studying it in in a classroom for the first time, since he's a rising freshman! So yeah, there's been a few conversations where one of us has no idea what's going on, but all in all we get along well, especially when he brought over his PS2 and loaned me some of his old Naruto manga volumes.
So yeah, things are chilling out on the whole. Next week, I only have three days of school; Monday is off because of a national holiday whose name I totally forget, and Thursday is also a holiday because of the autumnal equinox. Nice!
NEXT TIME: I have no clue what I will write about. Oh, if something neat happens over the weekend, that will definitely be reported.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Yokata Shumatsu
My good weekend, plus some other stuff. BONUS CONTENT, you could say, except that last weekend is really the main attraction here. So Friday, we were all pretty pumped for having made it a week without any serious nervous breakdowns; as I had pretty much mentioned, it was basically right back to the grindstone as far as classes went, not a lot of catch-up going on there. We opted to celebrate in classic Far Eastern style, which is to say karaoke! All of us dudes, plus Toma, Taku, and Souma (Taku's pal who is definitely gainfully employed at the Gasto) met up after school and walked over to a place nearby called, according to the large red sign, "BIG ECHO". Let me tell you, dudes, as far as karaoke places go, this was one of the bigger places I've been to, and, um, I guess there was a bit of an echo there as well? Anyway, we showed up and got a room, and then we got--you guessed it--infinite drinks. That's right, we'd stumbled upon yet another venue offering quite a colorful selection of nonalcoholic beverages, including the delicious melon-flavored Icee-like drink. So we went back to our room, and we sang sang sang, you guys. Our mates did a few Japanese songs, we did some American stuff like GaGa, Michael Jackson, and, by request, Eminem. I also tried my hand at a few Japanese songs; I've picked up a few over the years as a consequence of my watching anime. Let me tell you something, you guys: Listening to a song a lot is totally different from being able to vocally reproduce it. Though I will say in my defense, I did nail a couple of songs pretty well. I'll tell you which one I didn't do well though, and that was the Pokemon theme song. Shocked? I was too. You see, Sean asked our pals if they could find the song, however Toma reported that it was only in Japanese. We were still pretty gung ho about it--we still remembered how the music went--so we decided to try it anyway. This was not a good call; turns out the Japanese version of the show had a slightly different theme, and by slightly I mean completely. We also sang Ken Hirai's "Pop Star", which may be somewhat old but is too awesome. I challenge you to watch the music video and not draw the same conclusion: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qVSWqGPRnw&feature=related Indeed, this whole week, Diane and I have become a little bit obsessed, filling in nearly every space between conversation by humming its melody. So, we karaoke'd it up for 3 hours, and it cost us--are you sitting down for this?--500 yen, or 6 bucks, per person. Compared to what we pay in the U.S., this is nothing short of phenomenal. Fu-nah-men-all.
After karaoke, we decided to do It. What is It, you may ask? Well, It is a very momentous thing. It, my friends, is going to a real fucking sushi restaurant. We walked away from the karaoke place for some time until we reach Sushiryo, where we ascended its steps--in much the same way as the good people do when they pass on to the next life--and went in. This place actually served sushi on a conveyor belt, which means that we spent much of our time salivating as tempting dishes passed by. I had too much good stuff to describe here. Also I'm not sure what some of it was, which is another good reason for me not writing about it. I will say, though, that the sushi really is better; the seaweed a crisp, flavorful binding to the succulent fish contained within. About the only thing I didn't enjoy was uni, or sea urchin--it had a really bitter taste that was not really my fancy. I later learned from one of my instructors that paying 100 yen for uni means you're probably gonna get some poor quality stuff, so I guess I learned my lesson on that one.
So yeah, Friday was pretty sweet. Saturday, though, would be just as swell. We woke up in the late morning and rolled out to the center of town to go to Spa World! This 8-story monstrosity is home to multiple restaurants, an arcade (which are all really sweet in Japan), two floors reserved for each separate gender's hot springs, a water park on the top floor, and even its own hotel. Basically, this was where you wanted to be on a hot day, which is to say virtually every day we've spent here since arriving. We bought our tickets from vending machines in the lobby--I could almost say it's the preferred method of buying things in this wonderful country--and got in. First, we put our shoes in a locker, since there were absolutely no shoes allowed anywhere else on the premises. This may sound far out, but the upshot is, the entirety of the indoors were carpeted! So anyway, me n' Sean went upstairs to the sixth floor, which was reserved for men, while Karen and Diane hit the fourth floor. We changed into our suits and met up on the top floor for some pool action. The water park area was host to a large pool, several water slides, and a big lazy river running around the whole vicinity. We took a spin around said lazy river, and then Sean and I elected to hit a slide named the "Death Loop". It was a pretty nifty idea for a slide: after taking the stairs to the top of the water park, you get into a nearly coffin-like container. The floor drops out beneath you, and you drop down, gaining momentum until you hit a loop that goes up into the air, then finally back out. It was kind of lame that we had to wait for many times the duration of the ride, but it was still pretty sweet. After we'd had our fill of the pool, it was time for the onsen, or hot springs.
That's right, guys, hot springs. For those of you who are at least a bit acquainted with Japanese custom, then you know it was naked time. To reiterate, I had to strip down in front of dozens of other gentlemen, which was, to say the least, a unique experience in my life. But I quickly got over the absurdity a Westerner views this practice with; the trick is really to just not think about it, which is easy enough. Quite bemused, Sean and I hit a variety of baths; indoors, outdoors, super hot, ice cold. Generally, one does not stay in one bath for longer than a few minutes, like in any other hot tub, but for that brief time, it really is such a chill and deeply relaxing activity. We hit a sauna as well, which was really interesting insofar as it felt much like being immersed in the core of the sun; breathing in was like inhaling pure liquid heat. In short, it was pretty awesome--they even had a TV with baseball on!--but we didn't linger for long. After having our fill of the area, we went to explore the rest of this enormous resort. I had a delicious chocolate and whipped cream crepe, played some Mario Kart in the arcade (yes, fellow gamers, you read that right), then we did dinner at a basic Japanese cuisine cafeteria-like place full of low tables and cushions. Afterwards we departed into the early evening, and chilled out for the rest of the night.
Sunday morning, I actually woke up early on my own volition. This was yet another massively important occasion: our visit to the Osaka Pokemon Center. Yes, scattered across Japan's big cities are Pokemon centers, where one can purchase Pokemon merch and heal their party. We fancied ourselves devout pilgrims as we walked under the big archway bearing the Pokemon logo into the store. There was...so much stuff. Sooo much. Every variety of figurine, action figure; dolls, enormous plushies; tableware and household items; clothing, including an inordinately large assortment of underwear; stationery and school supplies; and of course, the most recent installments of the fiendishly popular game series. I was about ready to drop every yen I had ever earned, but I restricted myself to a small hand towel for toweling oneself off in the infernal heat of the city in summer and a coin purse in the shape of Pikachu's face.
I'd like to take a moment to justify these purchases to the non-Japanese readership. First of all, this city has been quite hot for some time--about as hot as Houston is in the summer. Here's the kicker, though; air conditioning is not a regularly-occurring phenomenon, on account of the high degree of power conservation (due to both popular environmentalism and the ridiculous cost of energy). In short, being inside a building is scarcely cooler than being out. Being perpetually bathed in heat, many people wisely use a handkerchief or similar soft, flat object when out and about. As for the coin purse, managing one's coins is kind of important here. As our resident director put it, dropping a few coins in the U.S. is no big deal, but here, where coins commonly appear in 100 and 500 yen denominations (about $1 and $5), you've got to stay on top of them. Also, since the smallest bill size is 1000 yen, one tends to carry around lots of change. But yeah, now I can look awesome and manage my change well, so problem solved.
So yes, that was perhaps the holiest of Sundays. This week involved more school, of course. We did get to met the rest of the exchange students, all on direct exchanges from universities all over the globe. This week was also the start of elective classes which we'll be taking; I haven't quite settled on a schedule yet, but I'll touch on that when I do. Oh! I forgot to mention that we toured the Asahi brewery and factory just a train station away from school. This was pretty sweet; even though it was exclusively in Japanese, it was nifty to learn about the process and watch that happy juice nearly fly off the production lines, as if launched from some gargantuan automatic artillery piece. We also got to try a few glasses at the end, which was a bit awkward since it was only our sensei and I who went for it. But the good news is, it was really delicious, having likely been produced that same day about three seconds from where we sat. The bottom line is, that class was pretty sweet.
Okay, so I know that was a pretty compressed account of the past seven to two days ago, but I think I touched on the important stuff. We're all really psyched to hang out with new exchange kids; it's a pretty good deal when your group of friends increases by almost twenty times. I'm about to go out to get some sushi, so I'll write again in a little while, dudes. Don't worry, I'll get an extra roll for you too.
After karaoke, we decided to do It. What is It, you may ask? Well, It is a very momentous thing. It, my friends, is going to a real fucking sushi restaurant. We walked away from the karaoke place for some time until we reach Sushiryo, where we ascended its steps--in much the same way as the good people do when they pass on to the next life--and went in. This place actually served sushi on a conveyor belt, which means that we spent much of our time salivating as tempting dishes passed by. I had too much good stuff to describe here. Also I'm not sure what some of it was, which is another good reason for me not writing about it. I will say, though, that the sushi really is better; the seaweed a crisp, flavorful binding to the succulent fish contained within. About the only thing I didn't enjoy was uni, or sea urchin--it had a really bitter taste that was not really my fancy. I later learned from one of my instructors that paying 100 yen for uni means you're probably gonna get some poor quality stuff, so I guess I learned my lesson on that one.
So yeah, Friday was pretty sweet. Saturday, though, would be just as swell. We woke up in the late morning and rolled out to the center of town to go to Spa World! This 8-story monstrosity is home to multiple restaurants, an arcade (which are all really sweet in Japan), two floors reserved for each separate gender's hot springs, a water park on the top floor, and even its own hotel. Basically, this was where you wanted to be on a hot day, which is to say virtually every day we've spent here since arriving. We bought our tickets from vending machines in the lobby--I could almost say it's the preferred method of buying things in this wonderful country--and got in. First, we put our shoes in a locker, since there were absolutely no shoes allowed anywhere else on the premises. This may sound far out, but the upshot is, the entirety of the indoors were carpeted! So anyway, me n' Sean went upstairs to the sixth floor, which was reserved for men, while Karen and Diane hit the fourth floor. We changed into our suits and met up on the top floor for some pool action. The water park area was host to a large pool, several water slides, and a big lazy river running around the whole vicinity. We took a spin around said lazy river, and then Sean and I elected to hit a slide named the "Death Loop". It was a pretty nifty idea for a slide: after taking the stairs to the top of the water park, you get into a nearly coffin-like container. The floor drops out beneath you, and you drop down, gaining momentum until you hit a loop that goes up into the air, then finally back out. It was kind of lame that we had to wait for many times the duration of the ride, but it was still pretty sweet. After we'd had our fill of the pool, it was time for the onsen, or hot springs.
That's right, guys, hot springs. For those of you who are at least a bit acquainted with Japanese custom, then you know it was naked time. To reiterate, I had to strip down in front of dozens of other gentlemen, which was, to say the least, a unique experience in my life. But I quickly got over the absurdity a Westerner views this practice with; the trick is really to just not think about it, which is easy enough. Quite bemused, Sean and I hit a variety of baths; indoors, outdoors, super hot, ice cold. Generally, one does not stay in one bath for longer than a few minutes, like in any other hot tub, but for that brief time, it really is such a chill and deeply relaxing activity. We hit a sauna as well, which was really interesting insofar as it felt much like being immersed in the core of the sun; breathing in was like inhaling pure liquid heat. In short, it was pretty awesome--they even had a TV with baseball on!--but we didn't linger for long. After having our fill of the area, we went to explore the rest of this enormous resort. I had a delicious chocolate and whipped cream crepe, played some Mario Kart in the arcade (yes, fellow gamers, you read that right), then we did dinner at a basic Japanese cuisine cafeteria-like place full of low tables and cushions. Afterwards we departed into the early evening, and chilled out for the rest of the night.
Sunday morning, I actually woke up early on my own volition. This was yet another massively important occasion: our visit to the Osaka Pokemon Center. Yes, scattered across Japan's big cities are Pokemon centers, where one can purchase Pokemon merch and heal their party. We fancied ourselves devout pilgrims as we walked under the big archway bearing the Pokemon logo into the store. There was...so much stuff. Sooo much. Every variety of figurine, action figure; dolls, enormous plushies; tableware and household items; clothing, including an inordinately large assortment of underwear; stationery and school supplies; and of course, the most recent installments of the fiendishly popular game series. I was about ready to drop every yen I had ever earned, but I restricted myself to a small hand towel for toweling oneself off in the infernal heat of the city in summer and a coin purse in the shape of Pikachu's face.
I'd like to take a moment to justify these purchases to the non-Japanese readership. First of all, this city has been quite hot for some time--about as hot as Houston is in the summer. Here's the kicker, though; air conditioning is not a regularly-occurring phenomenon, on account of the high degree of power conservation (due to both popular environmentalism and the ridiculous cost of energy). In short, being inside a building is scarcely cooler than being out. Being perpetually bathed in heat, many people wisely use a handkerchief or similar soft, flat object when out and about. As for the coin purse, managing one's coins is kind of important here. As our resident director put it, dropping a few coins in the U.S. is no big deal, but here, where coins commonly appear in 100 and 500 yen denominations (about $1 and $5), you've got to stay on top of them. Also, since the smallest bill size is 1000 yen, one tends to carry around lots of change. But yeah, now I can look awesome and manage my change well, so problem solved.
So yes, that was perhaps the holiest of Sundays. This week involved more school, of course. We did get to met the rest of the exchange students, all on direct exchanges from universities all over the globe. This week was also the start of elective classes which we'll be taking; I haven't quite settled on a schedule yet, but I'll touch on that when I do. Oh! I forgot to mention that we toured the Asahi brewery and factory just a train station away from school. This was pretty sweet; even though it was exclusively in Japanese, it was nifty to learn about the process and watch that happy juice nearly fly off the production lines, as if launched from some gargantuan automatic artillery piece. We also got to try a few glasses at the end, which was a bit awkward since it was only our sensei and I who went for it. But the good news is, it was really delicious, having likely been produced that same day about three seconds from where we sat. The bottom line is, that class was pretty sweet.
Okay, so I know that was a pretty compressed account of the past seven to two days ago, but I think I touched on the important stuff. We're all really psyched to hang out with new exchange kids; it's a pretty good deal when your group of friends increases by almost twenty times. I'm about to go out to get some sushi, so I'll write again in a little while, dudes. Don't worry, I'll get an extra roll for you too.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Tsudzukemashou!
That means let's continue, ladies n' gents. So, last time I left off, I had just described my first full day in Japan, which was wintastic. I'm probably going to leave out some things since things have really whirled by (attention psych majors: screw the primacy/recency effect), but here goes. The next few days were pretty chill; we had a couple of orientations on Thursday and Friday in the mornings, including the obligatory campus tour (which I will have more to say about once I start taking electives in other buildings). Thursday night, we had a sweet welcoming party at an izakaya, or Japanese-style pub. We dined on a ton of cool stuff; sashimi of all kinds, kara age (which is sort of like tempura, but not quite--I have yet to hear a coherent explanation on this), and fried rice, plus some other cool stuff on the side. Friday evening was spent not doing things; we'd been busy basically since we'd landed, so taking things slow was a pleasant change of pace. Saturday, us kids and the roommates went to Yodobashi Camera. This is basically how I would describe the store: If you have ever reaped the tiniest bit of joy from purchasing any device or appliance, or any toy or game, then this place is heaven.
Before I discuss my pure rapture, here's a quick dossier of dudes. There's Sean and his roommate Taku, Shane and Toma, Diane and Asami, and Karen and Shoko, plus your correspondent. No, my roommate has not yet entered the plot, but he might be materializing soon. (To answer your question, why yes, he is indeed at rugby camp.) Other characters will be introduced as they appear, of course.
Anyway. Yodobashi Camera is that place you've wanted to go your whole life without even knowing it. Seriously. It's nine floors of kickass, each devoted to different varieties of devices, which in turn are all way smarter than their cousins in the U.S. That's right, kids, even your toaster can handle differential equations in this strangely similar but utterly more advanced planet I've landed on. On this trip, I snagged a camera; as for my old camera, well, either I had wisely elected to forget it at home, or it exited my luggage sometime during my trip over, perhaps due to how hideously long it was. Hey, if I could've stepped out, I would've too. I also scored a peripheral allowing me to plug my laptop into the outlets here. Powering up my laptop for the first time in nearly a week, I felt much as I imagine my ancestors did when the secret of fire was unraveled. More chilling out ensued that weekend. I should interject that all of the first week and a half we visited various and diverse restaurants--from the neon-lit establishments catering to shoppers in towering department stores to holes-in-the-wall that could well be overlooked as a mere fluctuation in color along the side of a building except for the loud banners heralding their existence--all of which serve delicious noodle dishes, chicken and fish delicately fried in the Japanese style, be it tempura or katsu, and plenty of miso soup and the super-sticky white rice on the side.
Monday, unfortunately, was the day reality set in. Well, it made a valiant effort to, anyway. It was indeed our first day of classes, but, still bemused as we were by our being in Japan, we were all basically in summer vacation mode. This was a bad call, since our instructors decided to assign us about a million hours of homework due the next. Seriously, you guys, I have never received so much homework on the first day of school, or indeed, on most days of school. Gripped in mindless panic, I did the only thing I could do--I went to the Gasto with Sean.
What is the Gasto? I am damned glad you asked. The restaurant's name is supposed to be "Gusto", but for like no reason, it was decided to be named ガースト, which sounds like "Gahsutoh". More importantly though, this is where the gangsters go to dine on somewhat ghetto imitations of Western food, such as spaghetti, pizza, and a "hambuger patty", and--here's the kicker--get infinite drinks. Seriously. For a flat price, you can have all the coffee, tea, soda, and assorted hot beverages (like coconut milk and hot chocolate) you can drink, a limit I have more than once reached. The clientèle, as I have previously suggested, is divided into bleached-hair, goth-looking badasses who want their damned fake hamburgers, and extremely old people, who are a prominent constituency in most settings. In short, going to the Gasto is always an experience, and has indeed become a synonym by which we measure how gangster a person is--do they go to the Gasto? Not very often? The highest compliment that can be paid is to assume that one is employed at the Gasto, to enjoy bottomless mochas as they please.
So yeah, last week was quite stressful on account of the fact that we received an obscene amount of homework. But not all was getting our asses kicked over and over: We took some field trips in our afternoon class to various sights around Osaka, such as the megamall HEP 5--a convenient plan given that we'd already been several times by ourselves. On that trip, I hit the arcade at the top of the mall, where Sean and I played giant Tetris with meter-high joysticks and ogled, with frothing mouths, at all sorts of merchandise from Naruto, Bleach, One Piece, and other big-name manga series, not to mention the staggering array of Pokemon products. The few nights of freedom that punctuated the week consisted of chill hang-outs in our apartments, just us and our Japanese homies. These are really great; we usually go for English rather than Japanese in that setting, and since on the whole our pals know way more English than we do Japanese, it's a good way for everyone to get to know each other a little better. For example, I am pleased to report that, after watching Superbad with my friends, penis humor does indeed successfully translate across cultures and languages.
You guys, we have truly entered the golden age of mankind, a time when all youth, regardless of background, can hold hands and say in a single voice, "Prepare to be fucked by the long dick of the law!"
So, that's what I've got for now. Actually, I should be writing an essay and studying for a test right now, but a typhoon is coming in tomorrow, and there's a chance that classes will be out, so I'm using that as an excuse to pretend like it's cool for me to procrastinate. NEXT TIME: My awesome weekend, including my first trip out to karaoke, the most legit sushi experience ever, a trip to a truly gigantic waterpark and its artificial hot springs, and my visit to the Osaka Pokemon Center?!
Before I discuss my pure rapture, here's a quick dossier of dudes. There's Sean and his roommate Taku, Shane and Toma, Diane and Asami, and Karen and Shoko, plus your correspondent. No, my roommate has not yet entered the plot, but he might be materializing soon. (To answer your question, why yes, he is indeed at rugby camp.) Other characters will be introduced as they appear, of course.
Anyway. Yodobashi Camera is that place you've wanted to go your whole life without even knowing it. Seriously. It's nine floors of kickass, each devoted to different varieties of devices, which in turn are all way smarter than their cousins in the U.S. That's right, kids, even your toaster can handle differential equations in this strangely similar but utterly more advanced planet I've landed on. On this trip, I snagged a camera; as for my old camera, well, either I had wisely elected to forget it at home, or it exited my luggage sometime during my trip over, perhaps due to how hideously long it was. Hey, if I could've stepped out, I would've too. I also scored a peripheral allowing me to plug my laptop into the outlets here. Powering up my laptop for the first time in nearly a week, I felt much as I imagine my ancestors did when the secret of fire was unraveled. More chilling out ensued that weekend. I should interject that all of the first week and a half we visited various and diverse restaurants--from the neon-lit establishments catering to shoppers in towering department stores to holes-in-the-wall that could well be overlooked as a mere fluctuation in color along the side of a building except for the loud banners heralding their existence--all of which serve delicious noodle dishes, chicken and fish delicately fried in the Japanese style, be it tempura or katsu, and plenty of miso soup and the super-sticky white rice on the side.
Monday, unfortunately, was the day reality set in. Well, it made a valiant effort to, anyway. It was indeed our first day of classes, but, still bemused as we were by our being in Japan, we were all basically in summer vacation mode. This was a bad call, since our instructors decided to assign us about a million hours of homework due the next. Seriously, you guys, I have never received so much homework on the first day of school, or indeed, on most days of school. Gripped in mindless panic, I did the only thing I could do--I went to the Gasto with Sean.
What is the Gasto? I am damned glad you asked. The restaurant's name is supposed to be "Gusto", but for like no reason, it was decided to be named ガースト, which sounds like "Gahsutoh". More importantly though, this is where the gangsters go to dine on somewhat ghetto imitations of Western food, such as spaghetti, pizza, and a "hambuger patty", and--here's the kicker--get infinite drinks. Seriously. For a flat price, you can have all the coffee, tea, soda, and assorted hot beverages (like coconut milk and hot chocolate) you can drink, a limit I have more than once reached. The clientèle, as I have previously suggested, is divided into bleached-hair, goth-looking badasses who want their damned fake hamburgers, and extremely old people, who are a prominent constituency in most settings. In short, going to the Gasto is always an experience, and has indeed become a synonym by which we measure how gangster a person is--do they go to the Gasto? Not very often? The highest compliment that can be paid is to assume that one is employed at the Gasto, to enjoy bottomless mochas as they please.
So yeah, last week was quite stressful on account of the fact that we received an obscene amount of homework. But not all was getting our asses kicked over and over: We took some field trips in our afternoon class to various sights around Osaka, such as the megamall HEP 5--a convenient plan given that we'd already been several times by ourselves. On that trip, I hit the arcade at the top of the mall, where Sean and I played giant Tetris with meter-high joysticks and ogled, with frothing mouths, at all sorts of merchandise from Naruto, Bleach, One Piece, and other big-name manga series, not to mention the staggering array of Pokemon products. The few nights of freedom that punctuated the week consisted of chill hang-outs in our apartments, just us and our Japanese homies. These are really great; we usually go for English rather than Japanese in that setting, and since on the whole our pals know way more English than we do Japanese, it's a good way for everyone to get to know each other a little better. For example, I am pleased to report that, after watching Superbad with my friends, penis humor does indeed successfully translate across cultures and languages.
You guys, we have truly entered the golden age of mankind, a time when all youth, regardless of background, can hold hands and say in a single voice, "Prepare to be fucked by the long dick of the law!"
So, that's what I've got for now. Actually, I should be writing an essay and studying for a test right now, but a typhoon is coming in tomorrow, and there's a chance that classes will be out, so I'm using that as an excuse to pretend like it's cool for me to procrastinate. NEXT TIME: My awesome weekend, including my first trip out to karaoke, the most legit sushi experience ever, a trip to a truly gigantic waterpark and its artificial hot springs, and my visit to the Osaka Pokemon Center?!
Friday, September 3, 2010
Hajimemashou!
That means let's get started, dudes. See? I haven't even begun to write yet, and already you, you lucky reader you, have been rewarded with wholesome education. This is ironic given that I suppose the majority of my followers will likely rely on this publication as a diversion from finishing problem sets, cramming for the next day's test from PowerPoint lecture notes, or perhaps just reading a chapter or two in the textbook assigned a week or three ago. To this I say: Thank you, slackers, for upping the number of followers on my blog. But more importantly, thank you for permitting me to channel my sheer excitement at finally coming to Japan, and at the prospect of being immersed in a culture at the far side of the world.
Anyway, let's get down to brass tacks. I have a lot of catching up to do here, having been here since last Tuesday, so I apologize in advance if I give a somewhat abbreviated account of events. Quite frankly, the amount of awesome I've experienced thus far oppresses my memory like Godzilla sitting on a McDonald's. (Note the contextually-appropriate simile.) So, here goes my effort at recollection. My journey began at lovely Dulles International Airport outside of Washington, D.C., where I boarded a plane for a trip of approximately one million hours. Seriously, my flight plan took me the wrong way around the world, stopping off at Rome, then Dubai--I guess the good news is, by careful omission of truth, I can claim to have been in a bunch more countries than before. Touching down at Kansai International Airport with the sun setting, I didn't see anything too out of the ordinary--they're pretty much the same the world 'round--yet I was already getting psyched up, and not just to stretch out after being contorted into a small plane seat for nine consecutive hours. Moving around the airport, I got my first taste of Japanese in its indigenous environment by way of assorted signs. They said interesting things. So interesting! Unfortunately I can't relate them to you, dear reader, because my comprehension of kanji (Japanese relies on Chinese characters, but meanings and pronunciation are somewhat different) had not exactly improved for being out of the classroom for three months. With that said, I was able to successfully ask assorted personnel, in fluent Japanese, if I could speak English to them. This was a winning strategy, but fortunately I found that I was able to soon discard my English altogether. I eventually negotiated passage on a train to take me into town.
I got another great workout in my Japanese when, after getting off the train and walking for about five minutes to get to my hotel, I was politely informed by the receptionist that I had showed up at the wrong hotel. For a gentleman who had been on a trip of at least one full day, lugging around a good amount of his belongings in one thousand percent humidity, this was not an overly happy occasion. You see, there's a group that operates hotels at several train stations in Osaka, and I had kind of failed to discriminate which one exactly I had reserved the night at. At any rate, I showed up to the right hotel after another quick hop on the train, and gratefully collapsed onto the bed in my room after divesting myself of sweat-drenched clothes.
Dudes, I had made it to Osaka! If ever there was a practical test of Japanese, that was it, and I did all right.
I spent the first nine hours of my first full day in Japan completely inert. It would've taken every last Power Ranger to stir me out of my brief hibernation. Woke up and showered, then hit the small restaurant on the first floor for--that's right, kids--my first meal in Japan; a bowl of rice, some miso soup, and a little grilled fish, plus some green tea. Guys, this is the way to wake up. The fish included the head, which stared at me while I tucked into the meal, but having a nice stiff bowl of salty miso soup and some hot tea really got me going. Psyched up as I was, it was time to do the first item on my schedule, which was: nothing. I didn't have to meet up with my program's staff until mid-afternoon, after which we'd be returning to the same hotel for the night. Ditching my luggage behind the front desk, I went out to explore my surroundings.
Okay, this is sort of important. The hotel was in an area called Kishibe, which is kind of a quieter area a bit away from the center of Osaka. Not a lot of tall buildings here, dominated by a couple of train stations. I was walking when my surroundings suddenly changed to brick buildings with large glass windows, low walls and carefully cultivated trees. It took me a minutes of wandering around to realize that, yes, I had stumbled onto the campus of my school, Osaka Gakuin Daigaku (OGU). Although I really enjoyed strolling around, I decided that random foreigners wandering aimlessly around are probably frowned upon, so I elected to retreat back to the train station. I had looked at some literature provided by the hotel for tourists--I'm no tourist, damn it, but I had three hours to kill, so I was ready to pull out all the stops. I caught a train into the center of Osaka, hopped off, and began my bold expedition to nowhere.
My first stop was a large building called Namco Land--Namco being the producer of one of my favorite video games of all time. Inside was an arcade full of crane games, all with anime, manga, and video game merchandise to win. If I were a bit more of a nerd, I might have thought that I'd apparently copped it and gone to heaven. I did have a bit of a silent geek-out over some of the bigger names, like One Piece and Bleach, but unfortunately none of the prizes were edible, and there was rumbly in my tummy. A turn into a small alley yielded a vista of restaurants crammed together; I spied a KFC, but elected to go with something a little more native. The basic layout for your basic Japanese noodle shops is similar to bars, with the chef dudes working behind the bar and customers seated around. I took a seat and checked out the menu. So, um, more bad news: Remember how my kanji reading wasn't so hot? Well, unfortunately, my strategy of having Japanese naturally osmose into my head was not a success. I tried to ask for a recommendation, then I tried to point out a nearby customer's dish and ask for that, but neither tactic was successfully. Cue my daily dose of deus ex machina: Another woman came over and asked if I needed help in English! I kinda wished that I didn't have to resort to it, but I soon had a huge bowl of rice, more miso soup, and several pieces of tempura, each a different kind: fish, scallops, chicken, vegetables. This is kind of a boring story, but from here on in, I can pretty much skip describing my meals, since about 95% of my meals have been some combinations of these ingredients, or some kind of noodle dish. And yes, it is all way better and less expensive than in 'Murica.
So having had my little adventure butting my head against the language barrier, I rolled out to go meet my program's staff at another train station. This is where I met my homie Sean and his roommate Taku. Since we were the only kids who had actually made it to the appointed meeting place, us three gangsters went to drop Sean's luggage off at the hotel, and then we chilled out at a restaurant nearby--yes, more miso soup, fried food, and noodles for all. The best part, gents and ladies, is that we were totally ditching our English to speak with our mate Taku. It was pretty tough at first, but now I feel like what little Japanese I can speak, I do pretty well. Later on two of the other dudes showed up, Karen and Shane, plus the latter's roommate Toma. Lastly was Diane, who showed up way late and totally did not chill out with us, and her roommate Asami. Day completed, fools.
Well shit, dear reader. As you can see, I have written like waaayy too much for a single blog post, so I am going to hit the brakes before this train rolls over even the most stalwart of my audience. Fear not, because I have a ton more stuff to write about. I have kind of a busy weekend this weekend, but hopefully this publication will be up to speed soon.
Anyway, let's get down to brass tacks. I have a lot of catching up to do here, having been here since last Tuesday, so I apologize in advance if I give a somewhat abbreviated account of events. Quite frankly, the amount of awesome I've experienced thus far oppresses my memory like Godzilla sitting on a McDonald's. (Note the contextually-appropriate simile.) So, here goes my effort at recollection. My journey began at lovely Dulles International Airport outside of Washington, D.C., where I boarded a plane for a trip of approximately one million hours. Seriously, my flight plan took me the wrong way around the world, stopping off at Rome, then Dubai--I guess the good news is, by careful omission of truth, I can claim to have been in a bunch more countries than before. Touching down at Kansai International Airport with the sun setting, I didn't see anything too out of the ordinary--they're pretty much the same the world 'round--yet I was already getting psyched up, and not just to stretch out after being contorted into a small plane seat for nine consecutive hours. Moving around the airport, I got my first taste of Japanese in its indigenous environment by way of assorted signs. They said interesting things. So interesting! Unfortunately I can't relate them to you, dear reader, because my comprehension of kanji (Japanese relies on Chinese characters, but meanings and pronunciation are somewhat different) had not exactly improved for being out of the classroom for three months. With that said, I was able to successfully ask assorted personnel, in fluent Japanese, if I could speak English to them. This was a winning strategy, but fortunately I found that I was able to soon discard my English altogether. I eventually negotiated passage on a train to take me into town.
I got another great workout in my Japanese when, after getting off the train and walking for about five minutes to get to my hotel, I was politely informed by the receptionist that I had showed up at the wrong hotel. For a gentleman who had been on a trip of at least one full day, lugging around a good amount of his belongings in one thousand percent humidity, this was not an overly happy occasion. You see, there's a group that operates hotels at several train stations in Osaka, and I had kind of failed to discriminate which one exactly I had reserved the night at. At any rate, I showed up to the right hotel after another quick hop on the train, and gratefully collapsed onto the bed in my room after divesting myself of sweat-drenched clothes.
Dudes, I had made it to Osaka! If ever there was a practical test of Japanese, that was it, and I did all right.
I spent the first nine hours of my first full day in Japan completely inert. It would've taken every last Power Ranger to stir me out of my brief hibernation. Woke up and showered, then hit the small restaurant on the first floor for--that's right, kids--my first meal in Japan; a bowl of rice, some miso soup, and a little grilled fish, plus some green tea. Guys, this is the way to wake up. The fish included the head, which stared at me while I tucked into the meal, but having a nice stiff bowl of salty miso soup and some hot tea really got me going. Psyched up as I was, it was time to do the first item on my schedule, which was: nothing. I didn't have to meet up with my program's staff until mid-afternoon, after which we'd be returning to the same hotel for the night. Ditching my luggage behind the front desk, I went out to explore my surroundings.
Okay, this is sort of important. The hotel was in an area called Kishibe, which is kind of a quieter area a bit away from the center of Osaka. Not a lot of tall buildings here, dominated by a couple of train stations. I was walking when my surroundings suddenly changed to brick buildings with large glass windows, low walls and carefully cultivated trees. It took me a minutes of wandering around to realize that, yes, I had stumbled onto the campus of my school, Osaka Gakuin Daigaku (OGU). Although I really enjoyed strolling around, I decided that random foreigners wandering aimlessly around are probably frowned upon, so I elected to retreat back to the train station. I had looked at some literature provided by the hotel for tourists--I'm no tourist, damn it, but I had three hours to kill, so I was ready to pull out all the stops. I caught a train into the center of Osaka, hopped off, and began my bold expedition to nowhere.
My first stop was a large building called Namco Land--Namco being the producer of one of my favorite video games of all time. Inside was an arcade full of crane games, all with anime, manga, and video game merchandise to win. If I were a bit more of a nerd, I might have thought that I'd apparently copped it and gone to heaven. I did have a bit of a silent geek-out over some of the bigger names, like One Piece and Bleach, but unfortunately none of the prizes were edible, and there was rumbly in my tummy. A turn into a small alley yielded a vista of restaurants crammed together; I spied a KFC, but elected to go with something a little more native. The basic layout for your basic Japanese noodle shops is similar to bars, with the chef dudes working behind the bar and customers seated around. I took a seat and checked out the menu. So, um, more bad news: Remember how my kanji reading wasn't so hot? Well, unfortunately, my strategy of having Japanese naturally osmose into my head was not a success. I tried to ask for a recommendation, then I tried to point out a nearby customer's dish and ask for that, but neither tactic was successfully. Cue my daily dose of deus ex machina: Another woman came over and asked if I needed help in English! I kinda wished that I didn't have to resort to it, but I soon had a huge bowl of rice, more miso soup, and several pieces of tempura, each a different kind: fish, scallops, chicken, vegetables. This is kind of a boring story, but from here on in, I can pretty much skip describing my meals, since about 95% of my meals have been some combinations of these ingredients, or some kind of noodle dish. And yes, it is all way better and less expensive than in 'Murica.
So having had my little adventure butting my head against the language barrier, I rolled out to go meet my program's staff at another train station. This is where I met my homie Sean and his roommate Taku. Since we were the only kids who had actually made it to the appointed meeting place, us three gangsters went to drop Sean's luggage off at the hotel, and then we chilled out at a restaurant nearby--yes, more miso soup, fried food, and noodles for all. The best part, gents and ladies, is that we were totally ditching our English to speak with our mate Taku. It was pretty tough at first, but now I feel like what little Japanese I can speak, I do pretty well. Later on two of the other dudes showed up, Karen and Shane, plus the latter's roommate Toma. Lastly was Diane, who showed up way late and totally did not chill out with us, and her roommate Asami. Day completed, fools.
Well shit, dear reader. As you can see, I have written like waaayy too much for a single blog post, so I am going to hit the brakes before this train rolls over even the most stalwart of my audience. Fear not, because I have a ton more stuff to write about. I have kind of a busy weekend this weekend, but hopefully this publication will be up to speed soon.
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