The Savage Muse

I am more or less becoming settled here in my new rural town of Izunokuni. (If you haven’t heard of it, don’t worry. No one else outside of Japan has heard of this town.) Interac has kindly paired me up with a cute Japanese and English speaking woman, Hira-san, who has to accompany me for a week, ensuring that my transition to Japanese life is going smoothly.

On this particular day we had some time to kill and spontaneously found a free foot spa/bath somewhere in the boonies. What was a serene moment was turned into a farce by yours truly. It is a gift, I tell you, a gift.

Computer says, “No”
I had a Little Britain moment, particularly like this one. My week of orientation with the combination of helpful translated documents about Japanese applications has led me to naively believe that happy thoughts and pixie dust will make the whole account setup a breeze and I’ll fly away, quick as a wink, to continue on with the rest of my life.

Foolish, foolish mortal.

What should have taken, at most, 45 minutes took about 2 hours. Between me, the bank clerk, and Hira-san (bless her!), the bank clerk tried his best to translate himself and was under the mistaken idea that I had to fill out another form besides the one I knew I had to do.

Ana/Hira: Are you sure?
Clerk: Computer says No.
Ana/Hira: So I have to fill this out?
Clerk: Yes.
Ana/Hira: But I shouldn’t have to; this does not make sense.
Clerk: Computer says No.

Of course, the form being an official document and me, wary of anything that needs my signature, took the time to understand the damn thing inside and out.

After I had filled the silly thing out, the bank clerk was on the phone for about 20 minutes talking to his superiors. A couple sheepish edgewise looks my way, I knew that he understood he had wasted my time. He apologized profusely to both Hira-san and me, presented me with a post box shaped bell chime and some plastic onigiri containers, then gave me my new bank book.

At least I have a new bell chime.

Dear Japan,

I find your method of sex education much more entertaining than North American standards. Please forward all cautionary pop songs related to teen pregnancy to both Canada and America. I think we can benefit by happily singing societal expectations and presumptions about the average pre-teen and their sexual curiosity repeatedly.

A fan and Canadian Ambassador,
Ana

I really cannot emphasize the ridiculousness of the song, “Don’t Make Me Take Off My Sailor Uniform”. It originally debuted on 1985 by the all female pop group Onyanko Club (or literally “The Kitten Club”). This is their debut song and their debut album contains such gem titles like “Otto Chikan!” (literally, “Oh no! A Pervert!”), “Oyoshi ni Natte TEACHER” (literally, “Oh Behave, Teacher”) and, my favorite, “TEDDY BEAR no Goro: Shoujo no Kaori” (literally, “Teddy Bear Time: The Scent of a Young Girl”).

It was this girly idol group that inspired another generation of silly girl idols like Morning Musume who foolishly did a cover of the aforementioned song.

This strengthens my love/hate relationship with Morning Musume. On one hand, they’re really dumb and songs like this just makes me die a little inside; however, it’s because of this stupidity that I can make fun of them. My disgust for them is on par with my sadistic tendancies; such is my life.

Here are the lyrics of the clip (in romaji since I cannot post kanji on my blog for whatever reason):

SAILOR fuku wo nugasanaide
ima wa dame yo gamannasatte
SAILOR fuku wo nugasanaide
iya yo dame yo konna tokorojya

onna no ko wa itsudemo
MI-MI-DO-SHIMA
obenkyoushiteruyo AH- mainichi

tomodachi yori hayaku
ecchi wo shitai kedo
KISS kara saki ni susumenai
okubyousugiruno

shuukanshi mitai na
ecchi wo shitai kedo
subete wo ageteshimauno wa
mottai naikara … agenai!

Loosely and lazily translated:
Please don’t make me take off my sailor uniform.
Not now. Be patient.
Please don’t make me take off my sailor uniform.
I don’t want to. I can’t. Not in a place like this.

Most girls, at any time,
receive second-hand sexual information.
It’s studied, like, everyday.

I know you want to
fool around much earlier compared to your friends.
It’s very intimidating
not to advance beyond a kiss. (This part I’m a bit wary on.)

I know you want to
fool around just like the weekly magazines.
But just giving it all up
is a waste. I won’t give it up. ( I added just as a lazy colloquialism to emphasize the regret in the expression “~shiteshimasu”)

(Yes, I do believe they are implying their virginity.)

Oh Japan. You crack me up.

I am not good with maps. Ask any of my friends how I fare with a typical FPS and they’d laugh; it’s not that I’m not good with aim nor is it that I am not good with reaction. My Achilles’ heel is my inability to read a map: I would stupidly meander myself into an enemy or into enemy territory despite the little red dots blinking furiously on my radar map. (The only exception to this are the HALO level maps “Blood Gulch” and “Beaver Creek”.)

My usual method of familiarizing myself with my surrounds is to get lost and to ask for directions. (When this happens I like to tell myself that this forces me to speak Japanese and getting lost is just a great example of studying Japanese.) When I decided to take a small trip to Hamamatsu Castle, I was not surprised that I got lost on the way. The evidence of my foolishness:

For those who don’t understand the acronym, it stands for “So You Think You Can Dance”, a popular reality television show and competition that pits dancers from a localized area for a chance to win a grand prize – varies from season to season, but as varied from $100 000 cash prize, cars, and even a dance position in Celine Dion’s Vegas show – by showcasing their versatility in different styles of dance.

I am a fan. I am particularly fond of all the hip-hop, like this or this. Hip hop and its other variations, like lyrical hip hop, is gritty and cool. Awesome.

When I arrived from Nagoya to the small bustling city of Hamamatsu, I overheard loud cheery music. “Oh, they knew I was coming!” was my first thought, excited at the idea of my own entourage. But vanity aside, I stepped out into the city from the train station and was hailed by a confetti of colour, patterns, noise makers and cheers.

I stepped into a yosakoi dance competition.

What is yosakoi? Watch and find out:

On another note, one of my favorite comics (whose author I am six degrees away from separation from), Scott Pilgrim, is coming out as a movie starring Michael Cera. I am happy.

I’m within a world so heavenly

For I never dreamt that you’d be loving sentimental me

- In a Sentimental Mood, Duke Ellington

Although this song is sung with a lover in mind, I cannot help but be in a sentimental mood as I listen to the tap-tap-tap of the rain against my hotel window. I look out into the obsidian city below — black glistening shapes from the soft shower of rain reflecting the neon lights — between a crack in the curtain fabric and the window pane, thinking to myself how lucky I am to be loved.

I spent the last few days organizing the final film clips I took of Canada, reminiscing the fun times I spent with my nearest and dearest to my heart. I did consider for a while whether or not I should make a farewell video. I am, after all, in Japan; I’m supposed to be writing about Japan. In theory, the entries of my trip should be in a nice little chronological order: The Plane Ride, Transfers between Vancouver-Seoul-Nagoya, and Hamamatsu Castle, but I have a feeling that a major digression is on its way.

This particular digression is not without a reason. I felt I needed to show my appreciation towards my dear friends for all the support and love they have given me these past years; for putting up with my ridiculousness, I applaud you. I rarely care to be this openly affectionate in public; if this makes you feel uncomfortable, watch the following clip:

I personally love Nicolas Cage punching a woman whilst wearing a bear suit.

For those who are interested, the following Omake video is 8 minutes long and full of love:

My Life Weighs 170lbs

“I would like to imagine what Ana would do in Japan with her two huge luggage bags,” said Forrest.

“Yeah, but I’d also like to think of the poor small Japanese man who has to help her,” said Marc.

My friends will make fun of me after this post.

I packed two monstrosities that were both over-sized and overweight. When I hauled the two of them at the Air Canada check-in counter, a kind portly Air Canada clerk in the name of Bob looked on as I stacked one of of the bags on the scale. He looked at me, looked at the bags, then looked at me again and finally rested his sights on the screen.

“So with both of those luggages, you’re about 70lbs over. You would need to empty out the extra weight,” he took out a form and pointed to the side of open space and weight scales. He handed me some clear plastic bags. “Take these and put the extras in here. I would double up the bags too for extra measure. Also, if you use another set of bags, I would have to charge you for those.”

Damn.

I emptied out my luggage of the heaviest items first, my books, and then proceeded to empty out the luggage in random. Onlookers were amused as I haphazardly threw underwear, shoes, and random odds and ends into the plastic bags. Bob chuckled as he watched me inbetween helping other passengers as I would put the luggage on the scale and gasp in exclaimation when the weight was still too much.

“You’re a pretty good packer if you managed to pack it all in only two bags, “he said. “Why do you need all those?”

“I’m, er …” I picked up the clear plastic bag, hefted it on my shoulders and tried to carefully take the lopsided thing on the scale. THUD! “Er, ah. I’m moving to Japan.”

“Oh! Japan! That’s exciting.”

“Er, yes. Dammit – still 15 lbs to go on this one.” My cellphone buzzed. A text message from … Forrest?

From: Forrest
Get any hilarious look at the luggage checkin?
9:07A Fri Mar 19

From: Ana
Yes. Also, have to repack with extra plastic bags.
9:10A Fri Mar 19

From: Forrest
Just beat the air canada staff to death with your luggage!
9:15A Fri Mar 19

I smiled, noticing that Bob was looking interested at my repacking progress. “You know, ” I said. “if you consider the fact that I’m moving to Japan, my life condensed into 170 lbs is not a whole lot of things.”

Two 50lb luggage, one 70lb over-sized luggage, and $225 CDN later I was Japan bound.

Or so I thought.

I was stopped at the security screening. It wasn’t anything serious. I had to place all three of my lip glosses into plastic baggies. Even though that was the cause of the search, the security still had to look through everything as per protocol. The security officer was amused as she pulled out all my MAC make-up, my little Hello Kitty nail clipper, my Nokomis laptop bag with a print screen of an old-fashioned typewriter, my Pupa make-up kit, my PS3 games and random Japanese language books. She and her cohort chuckled at the various items, occasionally pointing out something they thought was especially interesting like God of War 3 and my copy of French Girls Don’t Get Fat. “You are quite the girl,” She said to me. I am glad that my belongings are amusing for officials.

No more dilemmas right? Wrong.

Once I arrived in Japan, I decided to use their luggage delivery service to have my 170 lbs of life weight brought to the hotel, so then I don’t have to haul it on the trains. After paying 5690¥ (approx. $60CDN) to a kind Japanese man, he struggled with all three bags – I contemplated in video taping it, but thought the better of it — and wished me well. In retrospect I realized I could have saved 1890¥ by taking the time and repacking it all into the two original luggage but after a 10+ hour flight I was ready to crash into my room and sleep.  Of course, not before posting this.

Oh, did I mention that my ineffectual arms are being toned by my 20lb carry-on and my 10lb purse during this whole ordeal?

Thank you Steph for this video. I heart!

As preparation before my departure to Japan, I have been taking videos and teaching myself how to edit them. I thought it might be a good idea to occasionally showcase Japan and edit it in a way the audience can experience Japan through my eyes. I made such a video with one of the techniques I’ve been teaching myself: Cloning.

The following video features me, a clone of me, and a compilation of shots from West Edmonton Mall. Soon, I may have time to make one of Japan. For now I still have a lot of Canadian shots and videos to make.

Wow. That’s all I have to say: Wow.

I had just published this blog post with the accompanying video yesterday. I messaged my two cohorts who were responsibile for the hijink – Big Josh and Darryl — to get their approval. I also sent messages with the link to a couple of friends on facebook then I went to bed to sleep.

Suddenly, it’s on Geekologie.

Wow. That’s all I have to say: Wow.

Big shout out to Rob, the original daredevil who tried a BK Noah’s Ark, whose warning to others ironically inspired the opposite effect.

I like my occasional fast food indulgences like the next person; in fact I relish it. The idea of dreaming in a sweet cloud of vanilla milkshake while wrapped in crunchy apple pie clusters is enough for my poor body to shiver in ecstasy. I may suddenly be diagnosed with diabetes; I won’t be surprised.

I digress.

When my good friends Darryl and Big Josh invited me to Burger King I didn’t know that I would find myself thanking my lucky stars that

a) I brought my camera with me and

b) no one needed to call an ambulance.

Big Josh decided to tackle Something Awful‘s challenge The Noah’s Ark Burger. Here are the results:

EDIT: More pictures can be seen at Marc’s blog.