Living in Translation

So my folks have arrived for a couple of weeks touring and relaxing in the land of the rising sun, and I have psyched myself for a couple of weeks of tongue-biting (or attempted anyways) and tour guiding, hopefully with a few late-night solo jogs to reclaim my sanity.

Yesterday was the first day so far that has turned into a real test of my language ability (I am utterly aware, even more so after yesterday, of just how lacking it is in so many areas) as I guided the folks around to various places.

It started off nice and easy in an electronics shop where mom needed to purchase a new memory disc for her camera. Ok, all well and good. Escape without incident.

Then, in a moment of foolishness, I brought the parentals to Sousenji Temple in Yonago. My parents, specifically my mother, have come to be very fascinated with graveyards and burial customs and rites to honour the dead. And I recalled that outside that particular temple, there was a small mess of lonely gravestones that there was no one left to take care of, other than the local monk (? my religious terminology is definitely lacking, and not just in English) who will pray over them. Following interminable questions about things I don't know, understand, or can't read (the assumption on the part of my mother seems odd that I should have immersed myself in Buddhism merely by living in the country, especially when one considers how very apathetic I was about faith at home, but who am I to question the inner workings of a crazy Catholic mother's mind), we ventured up to the temple where I asked permission from a man who was doing some clean-up to enter building.

He gladly said yes, and we three entered and wandered around the main hall, the altar, and the memorials in the back, as he attempted, out of appreciation for my parents' interest to throw random explanations at me for translation. I did my best, but there was a variety of things that escaped me, or assumed I had a foundation of knowledge to base my explanations on.

Later, venturing back into the main hall, dad grew fascinated with a photo of the grounds hanging over the door. Currently, there is a new building under construction next to the temple, but in the photo, there was one already there. Out of dad's curiosity, I ventured forth a question about how old the photo was, and asked why it was being built. He replied that it was a twenty year old photo and got caught up in trying to remember it's origins.

It was then that the resident monk wandered out the door under the photo and our helpful quasi-guide quickly and eagerly explained that I lived in a neighboring town, I was with my parents who were visiting from Canada, and we were interested in various aspects of the temple, particularly the new building being constructed next door.

And that is how we ended up spending a few hours on a very personalized and in-depth tour of the temple grounds, the history of the buildings, buddhism in general and the monk's life in specific. He showed us around the grounds, lead us through the new construction, explained the significance of various monuments and memorials around the temple, and patiently answered all the questions of my mother, while only slightly scolding my father and I for being lapsed whatevers that we are. We shared his green tea and sweets with him, and generally had what will probably be the best experience of my parents' trip to Japan.

It ended with a Canadian pin being given, invitations to return, a photo being taken, a bell being rung, and being seen off from the steps of the temple. If the rest of their trip goes even half as well as yesterday afternoon, it will probably be the best trip my parents ever take.

On Another Note

Last night during the good old Japanese benkyou, I happened to teach my tutor a word she didn't know. At first, she looked at me like I was crazy, or had most likely gotten the word wrong, but then I looked it up and showed it to her, resulting in shock and surprise. Always fun.

Later, in my favourite restaurant chatting with a bartender before I left, he complained that I was leaving for home too early, to which I responded, "I have things to do." His reply, "いやらしい。" I had a feeling it wasn't a good word, and asked what it meant, to which he said, "エッチ。" A word I definitely understand, but was too surprised to believe that could be what he meant. So I had him write the original word down, so as to look it up when I returned home. And it wasn't a good word, and no, I didn't misunderstand the meaning. He was calling me dirty
and obscene. I am not entirely sure of what circumstances I could possibly be expected to consider that an acceptable comment from someone who is a relative stranger, and will be giving him a full-on, frightening, mixed language piece of my mind next time I run across him. And quite likely, me being me and fully willing to cut off my nose to spite my face, that will be the last time I see him as I may not go back.

Pomp and Circumstance

It has been a week full of torturous graduation practices, held in an unheated and uninsulated school gym, standing in the back wearing a jacket while trying to keep my hands warm by drawing them as far up my sleeves as I possibly can. Why don't I just jam them in my pocket? I'm not allowed, nor are the students. And despite the cold the pervades your bones and makes your fingers hurt, I think I am the only person who has caught a cold from this.

Certainly is making me look forward to tomorrow, when no one will be allowed to bury themselves in their winter jacket. I especially pity the outgoing 6th graders, as they will all be dressed in their finest, which, if last year is anything to go by, doesn't include much in the way of sweaters or warm layers.

I have to admit to feeling a bit sad to see them go, as they will be my last graduating class, and over the past two years, I have gotten to know them all fairly well. I will be losing Dumpling, Anta Dare?, my fellow year long oni gokkou partners, my cohorts in bean fighting, as well as many others who could always make me laugh. But I can't help being happy for them, which seems to go against the whole mentality of graduation ceremonies here, where the main goal seems to be to try and make as many people as possible cry as often as possible. But then, I suppose I could be an aberration of sorts as I don't really remember being saddened by any of my graduations, rather delighted to be done with whatever it was and moving on to the next.

Weekends

are a beautiful thing, and far too short. Although, this weekend just past I was allowed to escape to freedom about 2 hours earlier than normal, as homeroom teachers were busy with parent-teacher discussions.

I went home during the sunny gorgeous afternoon weather and was so excited, I wanted to tell someone. But for the most part, everyone was working, so I messed with my favourite waiter's head a little via mobile mail. Followed this up with some desperately needed weeding in my garden, as well as a couple of loads of laundry and general tidying up of various areas of the house. Cian suggested the park, but that was merely a teaser as he was still working, and would be for hours yet.

Saturday, another gorgeous day that taunts you into believing that spring has finally sprung, had 18 degrees flashing on the sign by the side of the road as I whipped past with all the windows down and the music up. Those sunny days, they will probably prove to be the end of my driver's licence at some point as I can't help getting just a little too excited by the weather. And on this gorgeous day, I spent most of it indoors, in dark corners. Plans made nearly a week before to see a movie and relax over a late lunch proved to be ill-timed for the weather, as Sunday rose gray and cloudy, vacillating between whether to rain or not -- an ideal indoor activities day.

The movie was Syriana, and the restaurant can be figured out on your own -- although I would like to point out, I did not suggest the location, nor did I make any broad or subtle hints in that direction; I just didn't argue and avidly seconded the notion. Syriana is one of those movies that leaves you feeling unsatisfied on multiple levels and pondering the multitude of things wrong with capitalism in it's current incarnation. Although, it probably isn't going to stop me from leading my life of glorious consumption, eh?

Sunday, my phone promised rain and snow, and only delivered on half of it's promise in a very haphazard way, as you could step outside in the rain, and when you returned 10 minutes later, it had already ceased for who knew how long. I ended up doing some quality gardening during the in-between times, only to wake this morning and see the tender pansies and the like buried under 6 inches of snow in the garden. Hopefully they shall prove hardier than they look and not die off until I accidentally kill them through neglect. In the meantime, it was a lovely view to see the little flashes of colour in various corners and crevices of the garden during the winter hibernation.

This was followed by more laundry and cleaning as I attempt to get things sorted before my parental units descend upon my privacy. Futons were dragged out of cupboards in the hopes of airing them out without any outside air; sheets and towels were dug out of other cupboards and thrown into the mix, all the while I keep hoping someone else will do it for me. Sigh.

On a side note only semi-unrelated, Saturday morning was spent making phone reservations for various hotels and the like. My first call of the morning, to a hotel in Hiroshima, left me in a sparkly mood as the woman I was speaking to didn't start trying to speak English with me until I told her my name. "Ah?! Nico-sama? Nico-sama desu ka? Ah." At that point Saturdays and twenty-fives started being bandied about as I could hear the stress level in her voice slowly climb despite the fact I was still carrying on in J-go, same as before. A lovely and unexpected compliment of sorts.

Happy Days

It doesn't take much to put a spring in my step or a grin on my face, and what did it for me yesterday was the whoop of excitement and surprise I got from the boy I've been crushing on when I said I would attend a certain party. It's always nice to be getting the love, from whomever it may be.

Sleepless Nights

Already it is a week into March and other than work more than I would if I had any say in the matter and an excellent game of bowling (which really depends on your standards. Mine, being low, means that I was ecstatic over having bowled a 158.) and being thrown off a mechanical bull, I have done very little of interest. It got so bad, I was even taking work home with me -- Friday night I was working on school stuff until nearly 12 before I quit for the day, only to resume again on Saturday and Sunday.

There is also the matter of my parental units' impending visit. Only 12 more days before they descend upon my paradise and start asking questions about why everything is the way it is in Japan in loud and oblivious voices. I think I have been here too long, as the thing that is stressing me out the most is the change in volume my palace is going to undergo. I am looking forward to the visit as much as I am dreading it though, as it will be a good chance to show off where I live and work, the friends I have, and how passable my Japanese has become. I have to admit to also looking forward to having someone else cook dinner on the days I am working, as well as an excuse to do some touring in the region. Nothing beats the external impetus you can't quell for motivation.

I do think I will be investing in separate hotel rooms though -- one, for privacy; and two, for peace as my father snores loud enough to be heard through multiple walls and doors...

Dating in a Foreign Land

Dating in a foreign country is not in and of itself all that bad, although if you were to look at the potentials I have been set up with, by and large you might believe otherwise.

I am very lucky to have a friend like Hiro, a friend who cares so much about his wife's happiness, he is willing to go to any lengths to try and make her friends stay in country. He was very excited when Steve and Yuki got married a few years ago, although heartbroken when he discovered they would be leaving Japan, which is how the debacle that is my dating history in Japan has turned out. You see, if the potential mate is fluent in English, as Yuki is, it becomes far too easy for them to leave the country, so Hiro had taken it upon himself to find me non-English speaking boys. I am not fluent in Japanese. I can't even begin to try and fake it.

So one of the first men was a friend of Hiro's (the first problem Hiro has is a lack of friends who are single) who spoke some English, but not too much. Just enough that we could probably swing some basic conversation. However, he had a girlfriend, or two, and some peccadilloes best left unmementioned -- suffice it to say, not qualities you might look for in a mate, let alone a date.

Although, Hiro made sure to reassure me that he was perfectly willing to marry whichever girlfriend happened to get pregnant first, and he would probably give up on the extra-curricular peccadilloes when he got married, or at least by the time the child is born.

Yep, reassuring. Curiously enough, I let him pass.

All the while Hiro is attempting to encourage me to go out with Peccy, as he shall henceforth be known, he is also trying to get me to go out with a man a picked up at a sayonara party. I didn't so much pick him up as have him follow me home (not as stalkerish as it sounds, really). We had kind of hit it off at the party and were cycling home together, all the while I was assuming he would split off when he needed to, but he didn't. He cycled the entire 45 minutes back to Yodoe with me, where a little fooling around was enjoyed (nothing like being woken up the next morning by a phone call from the parents with a man sleeping next to you in bed).

He seemed alright, and Hiro thought so too, however he had a girlfriend. He told me about this a week later because he felt guilty, and then proceeded to tell me about how much he doesn't like his girlfriend. Right. Quality stuff. I later discovered from Hiro that this particular man may or may not marry her because her father gives him ramen. So Ramen boy also bit the dust. Asking for a spine of sorts isn't really too much, is it?

Then Hiro's friend Oyama also decided to play. I was invited to Oyama's wife's birthday party along with Hiro and Diane in order to meet Oyama's first proffering. The blinker who shall be called Bucho. He seemed perfectly alright, although a little nervous, until you tried to talk to him. It was then you would be hypnotized by the rapid-fire blinking he did while he spoke, causing you to lose all focus on the words that may have been coming out of his mouth. It induced me into such trance-like states I would be sitting there staring when he'd stopped, only to realize I had been asked a question and had no idea what it was.

Oyama's second offering was the layabout who apparently spoke very good English (Oyama was unaware of the Hiro requirements in a man, apparently) having done an exchange in the US for a while. But this was a man who was unable to hold a job. He would get a job, work for a little while, and then quit. It seemed his life's ambition didn't extend beyond playing guitar at home while his family took care of him. Hmmm, I didn't think so...

The 2 that followed were found by Hiro at enkais of sorts and led to him phoning me late at night, passing the phone to a random Japanese man so I could say my name and the appropriate aisatsu in Japanese, Hiro taking the phone back, and asking in front of the said man, "well, what do you think?" Right, because a very short awkward phone conversation always leads to the best of first impressions. Curiously enough, these 2 turned out to be the most normal of the lot, and as far as the normal course of action, they stood the normal course and ended up not being particularly interested in me or my stumbling, fumbling Japanese.

Which is what lead to the ceasefire, the permanent halt to future set-ups and a swearing never to answer a late night phone call from Hiro again. His heart is in the right place, but I think he needs a new hobby.