Travels

Since it's been a while since I last posted, I give you 2 in the same day.

I went away on a recent weekend to a town called Kobe. If you've never heard of Kobe, it's known for two things, really - it's beef, and a 6.9 earthquake which devastated it in 1995. It's been 11 years since then, and the city has rebuilt itself quite fast. The only real signs of the earthquake are at the memorial by the wharf, which have been preserved exactly how they were immediately following the quake.


Kobe is not much of a touristy town - well, it is a little bit for Japanese people, but not so much for foreigners. So my Japanese skills were really put to the test. I did pretty well, all things considered. Made it to their semi-famous Chinatown for some fantastic food, including some of the best dumplings (gyoza) I have ever eaten. Even met some guys from Turkey serving kebabs. Not sure why kebabs were being served in Chinatown in Japan by Turks, but I'm even more taken aback as to why a Turk and an American (that's me) spoke Japanese in Chinatown.

Kobe will also be known to me as the place with strange sculptures and architecture...

That last image is of a giant salmon and a to-scale bald eagle to signify the import/export relationship Kobe has with Seattle, the salmon being a symbol of the area, and the bald eagle for America.

I thought this building looked the city flipping the bird.


Walking down a street (without a construction zone in sight), I came across this guy. It's not every day you see someone in a suit, sneakers, sporting a backpack, and a hard hat.


Near Kobe is a small town Himeji that's known for its castle. I believe Himeji castle is the oldest in Japan, and it was fantastic. It is still how it was several hundred years ago, and exactly how I pictured Japanese castles to be. Multi-leveled, square, with sliding wood doors and very simple decorations. Very NOT European.


The castle and the buildings in the complex all had similar roof ornaments - what appear to be dragons. Very cool looking.



As it turned out, an annual festival took place in Himeji the weekend I went. It's quite hard to explain exactly what happened - I went to the festival with 4 Japanese people, and none of them had much of a clue either. The festival was called Nada-no-Kenka Matsuri, and nearby towns or temples (it was never made clear which) each had a color. Each town/temple had built a very elaborate vehicle to carry four men who played one large drum with an exacting rhythm. The drum was played as each shrine was brought out of the center temple, shaken, dropped, tilted as people around it chanted.
The colors were very vibrant and the people very many. The reason for the ceremony is still unknown to me. But it was such an important event, the Goodyear blimp made an appearance.
After each team brought out their elaborate shrine-vehicles (we witnessed the red, blue and yellow teams), there was some running, and chanting in and out of the central temple gate.

Then it got strange.
Three teams - the white, yellow and orange - each carried out a smaller, yet still fairly elaborate, shrine to the center of the square in front of the temple. Each shrine was lifted and carried by somewhere in the order of 50 or 60 people. With great enthusiasm, these elaborate shrines representing a town or temple were then smashed into each other. Toppling back and forth until one fell to the ground. Then they were picked up, and the action repeated. It was never made clear who the "winner" was as the shrines were eventually carried to the base of the nearby mountain for more "fighting."


It's also worth mentioning the clothes that the festival participants were wearing. Most of the men - well, only men participated in the ceremonies - were wearing fundoshi. Fundoshi was translated as "Japanese underpants" by my companions. I asked if they had ever heard of Japanese pants. They said the fundoshi were comfortable. Let me know if you think they are or not.


One of my Japanese companions asked if we have anything like this in America. Uhh....

Excuse me. Excuse me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Excuse me. Excuse me. I'm sorry.

That would be about half a conversation I heard this morning on my way to work. Two people were riding their bikes on perpendicular streets and they came to the same street corner. Neither saw the other, and both slowed down their biking as they approached the corner. There was plenty of room for them to pass without crashing.

It was not clear who had the right of way, nor were there any ill consequences - no crash, no harsh words. No one was made late (even by *gasp* one minute!!!) to their respective destinations. However, a lengthy apology was apparently in order. By both parties (which, in turn, in all probablity made at least one of them one minute late...).

The Japanese words I most frequently hear are sumimasen (excuse me) and gomenisai (I'm sorry). They are said with greater frequency than curse words at a Chris Rock concert. The ever-humble and apologetic nature of the Japanese is quite odd for me, having spent my entire life in and around the cities of New York, Baltimore and Washington, DC.

A Japanese coworker of mine - Tomoe - has had some trouble with her bike lately. She got a flat the other day, and had trouble fitting the pump to the tire, so I helped her out. But there is clearly a slow leak in the tire tube itself, as it went flat again today. I offered to help her out, if she got a patch kit from the local store. She did, and I went to help her out after work this evening. However, her bike is older and it will take some time to take disassemble and then reassemble the back wheel in order to remove the tire to search for the leak and apply the patch. I told her that since I'm not coming into the office until noon on Thursday, I could come in a little earlier that morning and work on it then, with both the proper tools and sunlight helping me out. She immediately said...
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?"
"Because you have to come and fix it."
"First off, I don't have to. Secondly, I offered."
"Yea, but you're going to come in early."
"I will arrive at work at 11. I don't mind. And, I offered."
"Right. I'm sorry."
At this point, I'm not sure if she was restating the initial apology or offering a new one because she apologized. Nothing like an apology for an apology. I figured questioning this would had left to further confusion, so I let it go.

I know I haven't posted in a while. So, please excuse me.
I'm sorry.
Excuse me.
I'M SORRY!!!!


Excuse me.

"EeeehhhhHHHHHH?????"

Most languages have ways of communicating without "real" words. For instance, English has "hafta," "wanna," "gonna" and the like which are slurred word combinations. In addition, many people around the world recognize sounds such as "uh-huh" and "uh-uh" as yes and no.

Similar noises made by speakers of Japanese really make me laugh. Many times, instead of "yes" or "right," people will use a grunt that sounds like something they'd use if they were punched in the stomach - "unh."
To say "Really??" or "What?" they use a very long and rising-in-intonation "eeeehhHHHHH???"
My favorite, though, is the "ooooohhhh." Whenever I say something even slightly interesting to them (or, perhaps, they're pretending it's interesting), I get this long "oooohhhh." Reminiscent of a sitcom soundboard or an infomercial actor.

Doesn't matter if this is in English or Japanese:
"Where are you from?"
"America."
"Ooooooohhhhhh."

"How old are you?"
"26."
"Ooooooohhhhhhhh!"

If you're relating a story to them - whether it's something that happened when you went to the grocery store, or something that traumatized you when you were seven, these noises are made while you speak. It's not done to be interrupt or be rude in any way. In fact, just the opposite. It's done to show that the listener is paying attention and is interested in the story.
So there have been times when I have been the listener to a story by someone who is Japanese, and I am not giving said grunts. On several occasions, the speaker has stopped and asked if I was still there mentally and not bored. Each time I replied honestly, "Of course I'm interested. What happened next?"

I've frequently started laughing at the reaction of who I'm speaking to. Which gets them to laugh too. Again, I'm not sure if they're being fake just to be polite and laughing just because I am, or if they realize how humorous their noises actually are. I'm guessing it's a 50/50 split.

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

or, at least, I can't. I'm not that creative.

Seen on a jacket last night: "I that a girl had it am very happy."

Interpretations welcome.


By the way, I've enabled anonymous comments, so readers no longer have to register with Blogger in order to post a comment. I had anonymous comments disabled previously because when I enabled them in my last blog, I received a lot of spam comments. I will try it, and am hopeful that "Tetsu no Otoko no Buroggu" will land me fewer random Google visitors than did "Prague Blog."

The Magic Disappearing/Reappearing Fire Extinguisher

So a couple days ago I was getting ready for work in the morning, and my doorbell rang. Odd, I thought, as I walked to the door, trying to get into a mental state ready to listen to, understand, and return fire in Japanese.

I open the door to see this old man - in his 70s or 80s, at least - and he starts talking to me in rapid, unintelligible Japanese. I tell him I have no idea what he's talking about, and he comes into my apartment. Uninvited. But he takes his shoes off, and as he is hunch-backed and has more than his fair share of wrinkles, I don't consider him to be any sort of threat. He pokes around my kitchen for a minute, then walks back outside, and asks me to wait a minute.

He walks down to my neighbor's door, and lifts what I presume to be my neighbor's fire extinguisher from their front step. So now I think he's some sort of fire inspection man, and the message gets across that he wants to see my fire extinguisher. However, he has shown no identification, and is not wearing any sort of badge or uniform. He's in a raggedy shirt and jeans.

He asks me to bring my fire extinguisher to him (I understand the words "koko ni" - "to here") and I get my fire extinguisher and hand it to him. I had a fleeting thought that he doesn't look as if he can support the weight of the extinguisher, and as soon as the weight left my hand, his body nearly crumpled. He recovered in time and was able to guide the extinguisher so it safely sat on my front step. He said thank you and went on his merry way.

Thoroughly confused, I went to work.

When I returned, the fire extinguishers (mine and my neighbors') were nowhere to be seen. No note in the mailbox or on the door. The following day, again, no fire extinguisher, no explanatory note. I half expected to come home to my apartment building in flames, as I imagined the old man was a con artist specializing in arson.

The day after that, when I returned home, there still was no note on the door (but, fortunately, no fire either). I opened my door to see a fire extinguisher sitting on my floor inside. Uhhh... how'd that get into my locked apartment? Still don't have that question answered. No new tags on the fire extinguisher with any sort of date or an "OK" sticker. I'm not that unnerved by the whole thing, but it still is a bit odd.

The most logical answer is that my the guy had to check all the fire extinguishers in the place, and my landlady is the one who unlocked my door and either allowed someone to place the extinguisher back in my place, or did it herself. But it is normal here - as it is in most parts of the world - for tenants to be notified before someone is going to come to into their apartment for any repair / inspection work.

I've asked other Americans who have been here for years, and even my Japanese co-workers. Everyone's brow wrinkles as much as the old man's relaxed face, as they give an expression of "ehhh?"

I'm legal! ... sorta

I arrived in Japan on July 19. I shortly thereafter applied to get a working visa. After multiple trips to the immigration office, photos taken (both ones in which I *cough* incorrectly smiled and ones in which I *cough* correctly scowled), paperwork filled out, and hours sitting in the immigration office much like at the DMV, my working visa finally arrived on September 22, over 2 months after my arrival.

This piece of paper - well, acutally, stamp in the passport - is what was holding up countless things for me. Opening a bank account. Getting a bike (because you need to register the bike with the local authorities so it's known that your bike is not stolen - see the title of the previous post). Getting a phone. Getting internet at home (yes, I am aware of the delays between posts - I have limited access to the internet at the office. And even though I plenty of free time in the office, personal internet use is not allowed. Again, see the title of the previous post). Even getting a video rental card was being held up by not having a visa.

Fortunately the electric and gas companies don't require that, so I have been able to take hot showers and use the lights in my apartment.

So, finally, after over 2 months of paperwork, red tape, and waiting, I have my visa. So, all these doors are finally open to me. Right? Well... not exactly.

Once I received my visa, I was then told I had to apply for my alien registration card. This card is apparently the key to my identification in the country, supplanting my passport. It is what I need to do all the aforementioned things. Yet it will take another 3 weeks (for god-knows-why) to process. With any luck, I can finally do all these things on October 12, when my gaijin card will be ready.

So after 3 months of waiting, what do you think the chances are that I'll be able to walk into a bank and just open an account? My money (no pun intended) is on filling out an application and then waiting another month before actually having it open. Then another 2-month background check before I get an ATM card.
I know this delay exists for getting internet access at home, so why wouldn't it be true for getting a video rental card or being able to register with a local arcade so that I can go to the batting cages?

Slowly inching closer to real life here...