is what you get when you mix Irish culture in Japan.
Giggle is an Irish pub found smack dab in the middle of Mishima City. I first heard of it from another ALT except when he said, “Let’s go to this bar I know” it never occurred to me that it would be something besides an izukaya which is the usual sort of place one would expect to go drinking in Japan.
Giggle is owned by a jolly frequent UK traveler known as Tsu-san, or 2-san. He’s not only friendly, talkative, and entertaining but he is also skilled in the guitar, violin, and banjo. I’m also impressed by the selection of his drinks since he also carries some local beers as well as well-known international beers and drinks.
When I went there they had another small local 4-piece band who were knowledgeable on Celtic music who played for a good hour or so. Nearing the end of the night Tsu-san and his guitar playing friend played two numbers. One of them is featured in the following video.
Tsu-san, if you ever read this, I hope you like the video collage I made for you.
The clouds were out and the rain was a thin watery spray of film in the air; I seemed to have gleaned over the part that says cloudy with a slim-to-none chance of sun, but my imagination has taken over reality and today was nothing but sunshine and lollipops.
If I am to live in this weary weather of monotonous dulcet tones of beiges and greys, I will do so in technicolour and one fashionable bright blue woolen toque at a time.
Although, you – YOU! — have caught me in my domestic state sans apron and wicker basket. My itinerary of today:
Skype dates with beloved ones back home
Breakfast of sugared butter toast, pieces of dark chocolate, and strawberries
Bright blue woolen toque
Home-style baked cheesecake, black tea, and a Japanese copy of Harry Potter enjoyed at the nearest cafe
An hour long peruse in the bookstore
A 3 hour long walkabout all corners of APITA department store in search for the perfect toaster oven (still not found)
Handwritten letters in purple and teal ink
More dark chocolate
Contemplations of a new video blog entry
Succulent pork with bamboo shoots and other delicate vegetables
Dustin and I originally planned to spend some time traveling to Shuzenji Temple and then end the day with a relaxing dip in an onsen (lit. “hot spring”). It is, after all, known to have an overabundance of onsens. Armed with a cartoon map of the area, our adventure was spent mostly deciphering the cute map of Shuzenji, walking to Shuzenji, stopping at shops and food stalls in Shuzenji, and then walking out of Shuzenji. We did not encounter any onsen that day.
We forgot the purpose of the trip and spent our time gorging. That to me, my friends, is a well day spent. Besides, it gives me another reason to go back and spend some time in Shuzenji.
The past few days has left me confused. Just when I thought that Japan and I have an understanding of its weather, it leaves confused, wondering, cold and alone, like a man with a passive-aggressive girlfriend. I had been attacked with its volatile incomprehensible rage:
Japan, why are you being like this? I thought you were more reasonable.
I’m not going to tell you; you should already know why I am like this. You should know.
May be I misunderstood you, Japan. When you said rainy season, I didn’t think a heavy deluge.
So, it’s my fault now?!
My love/hate relationship continues.
My preamble accumulates to this simple advice: Do not stand underneath the cherry blossom tree during this season.
I left school when the rain was a slight shower, not even a pitter-patter on the ground. It was almost misty, almost like a light grey shadow of air. My school is blessed with pink-white cherry blossom trees scattered around the school ground and there I was on the field when I was suddenly stuck with a tremendously stupid, yet brilliant inspiriation.
Normally, I would look at that scenery, muse a bit of its brilliance and then go on my merry way. However, being in a foreign country, my mind theatre is far more heightened in sensitivity with my heart and, well, everything on my sleeve that my emotional level has been reduced to that of a badly written teen-angst drama: I was on that field, looking towards the limping branches of cherry blossoms and thought how sad, yet beautiful the blossoms looked as they were lifted by the slight wind, kissed by the misty shower and gently floated to the ground like pink-white dancing snow. The Japanese call this sakura-fubuki (literally, “cherry blossom blizzard”) which poetically translates to “Cherry Blossoms Blowing Like Snow”.
I walked, as if entranced, under the trees and my arms outstretched as to be spirited away by a whirlwind of cherry blossoms. I took a deep breath … And that’s when a tree-full of cherry blossoms fell on me like an avalanche, smothering me into a human-shaped cherry blossom snowman. Like a cat thrown into water, I madly flailed my arms about and coughed out the clumps of wet petals that gravity shoved down my throat. I tried to brush the petals away from myself, but it was just an exercise in futility.
Hanami (lit. “flower viewing”) is the Japanese tradition of enjoying the few lustrous weeks of the cherry blossom before it falls in a billow of wind. Hanami is highly regarded because of the wab-sabi aesthetic of the cherry blossom: because the cherry blossom is imperfect in its quick decay, we must treasure its simplistic beauty while it lasts. For the Japanese, their idea of enjoying its natural beauty includes picnics under the tree, picture taking of the tree, karaoke amongst the trees, and drinking by the trees.
I personally have fun eating over-priced festival food – okonomiyaki, chocolate banana, fried chicken — and watching the intensity of the cameras people bring to these events.
I was lucky to stop by a couple shrines this week for hanami including Mishima Taisha Shrine in Mishima City. I actually went to Mishima twice, once with Hira-san and the second time with my ALT city-partners-in-crime, Emily and Aneeka. (Hira-san and Emily are featured in my video. Thank you!)
First Week: The Emperor and I
On Facebook, I already posted how I felt. Let me repost it here:
Ana Alcantara suddenly felt a calm wave as the children rushed towards her, calling out “Miss Ana! Miss Ana!” similar to that of Anna Leonowens’ experience in the King and I. I may or may not burst into song.
It’s not far from the truth. Even though I have three schools to teach, I will primarily be teaching in Ohito Junior High School where the girls are dressed in black, long skirted sailor suits and the boys wear the traditional Chinese-collared gakuran. So far, I haven’t taught a thing. May be that’s why it’s ridiculously fun right now.
Currently, my main responsibility is the creation of pink paper cherry blossoms. When I am not playing skip rope or dodge ball with the children, I am at my desk diligently making pink paper cherry blossoms. However, although I am responsible for creating an indefinite amount of these flowers I like to escape my duty (with the blessing of my coordinator and principal) to do random tasks around the school like helping other teachers during student health checks, sticking pink paper cherry blossoms on posters or walls, photocopying random worksheets, acting as assistant camera man to the many different school assemblies and ceremonies, playing skip rope, pretending to play skip rope, sticking pink paper cherry blossoms on students, and trading different items in school lunch with other students.
The girls are very curious about me so they ask me a variety of questions. Many do repeat themselves such as “Do you have a boyfriend?”, “What is your blood type?”, “How old are you?”, “Are you married?”, “Do you do the poo?”, etcetera. The boys like to play the game called, “Hello!” where one boy would stop me, quietly say “Hello!” and then would goad his nearby friend to do the same … but louder. This continues until I pass them by.
My friend, Kristine, who lived in Japan via The JET Program is astonished to why I have these movie-esque children. She wrote, “Any waves I felt were ones of nausea, as my demon-children ran helter-skelter, baring their fangs and proceeding to chew my worksheets into confetti. ” Right now, I don’t know if it’s just the afterglow of the first week, but I hope it does not diminish any time soon.
I recently did two experiments: I experimented in meshing more sound effects and background music with a voice over; I also did some experimental yakisoba. What better way to spend a night than to play around with cinematography and with food? I know I did so I glued it together into one blob of a video.
The beginning features the voice over experiment which was done in the style of the character Nakatsu from the comedic drama Hanazakari no Kimitachi e. I love the soundtrack to this drama and have borrowed much of my music for my work from it. The second part is just watching me cook yakisoba in my teeny tiny kitchen. The video also allows you to have a quick peek at my apartment before I do the apartment video.