Thursday, May 28, 2009
two-headed boy
This little gem sent to me by the dearest of old friends reminded me that, really, there are just two kinds of music people--those who love Neutral Milk Hotel and those who don't. And it is a rift that is difficult to mend.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
May, come what may
It's May. Seems I barely blinked and April was over.
May brings good things. The warmer weather is a boon to any and everyone. Golden Week, a week with 5 consecutive national holidays, starts in just half an hour from the time of me writing this. My sister will be coming tomorrow, and for once without one of our parents slowing us down or holding us back from enjoying time together in Japan. Travel, good food, and a bit of craziness surely await.
May is also coming with some foreboding this year though. Now is the time for me to start getting ready to leave. I'm sending winter clothes home with my sister. Debating what else I should weigh her down with to save me the shipping...my scanner? My guitar? What will go back and what will stay here? What things should I be preparing to part with? The answer to that, of course, is everything. My home, my work, my friends, my LIFE for the past three years...it's all going to change.
The opposite side of separation anxiety is the re-entry anxiety. Where will I live? What will I do for money? Will I still have any friends stateside?
May is here, full of golden glory but with a cold panic at the edges, slowly beginning to seep in. I'm uncertain how much attention I should pay those two opposing feelings. I want desperately to ignore the panic, but I know that will make it grow that much faster. Yet, I don't want it taking over the final times I have to enjoy what I have here.
Current coping strategy:
One day at a time.
Breathe.
Repeat.
May brings good things. The warmer weather is a boon to any and everyone. Golden Week, a week with 5 consecutive national holidays, starts in just half an hour from the time of me writing this. My sister will be coming tomorrow, and for once without one of our parents slowing us down or holding us back from enjoying time together in Japan. Travel, good food, and a bit of craziness surely await.
May is also coming with some foreboding this year though. Now is the time for me to start getting ready to leave. I'm sending winter clothes home with my sister. Debating what else I should weigh her down with to save me the shipping...my scanner? My guitar? What will go back and what will stay here? What things should I be preparing to part with? The answer to that, of course, is everything. My home, my work, my friends, my LIFE for the past three years...it's all going to change.
The opposite side of separation anxiety is the re-entry anxiety. Where will I live? What will I do for money? Will I still have any friends stateside?
May is here, full of golden glory but with a cold panic at the edges, slowly beginning to seep in. I'm uncertain how much attention I should pay those two opposing feelings. I want desperately to ignore the panic, but I know that will make it grow that much faster. Yet, I don't want it taking over the final times I have to enjoy what I have here.
Current coping strategy:
One day at a time.
Breathe.
Repeat.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Okay, time for another rant about the Japanese education system. Skip over this one if you don't care about how infuriating it can be.
The Ministry of Education has started making English textbooks for elementary school 5th and 6th graders. While they won't be mandatory for a couple more years, my town's elementary schools have elected to start using them. Sounds good, right? Getting the kids to get into English officially earlier on in their education should be a good thing, right? It would be, except that the textbook is an absolute total fucking disaster.
How bad can it be? Let me illuminate you.
Problem 1: The text has no appropriate target teacher.
Almost the entire teacher's manual is written in Japanese. This is great, if you can READ JAPANESE. Many ALTs (Assistant Language Teachers, read: native speaker) can't easily read large textbook passages in Japanese, even those who speak Japanese well. Meanwhile, the Japanese homeroom teacher (JHT) sees the tiny bit of English in the textbook and flips out at the thought of having to try and teach it. So the instructions for the activities are useless for both the ALT who isn't fluent in Japanese and the JHT who utterly terrified at teaching a subject they can't understand themselves.
Katie has been trying to say this to the teachers at her schools. Without Japanese, she can't read the textbook explinations or understand when the Japanese teachers read it to her. They respond by showing her all the flashcards and things that have English writing on them, but no context. So far they have gotten nowhere, and have been unable to start using the textbook.
Problem 2: It's totally disorganized.
This is a problem with most Japanese textbooks that I've encountered. The set up makes no sense from the perspective of a native speaker, or hell, anyone who can speak some English. The first lesson for 6th graders is upper case letters of the alphabet. Okay, not so bad. The second lesson is about counting. THEN, it goes back to lower case letters for the third lesson. I'm sorry, what? We can't do the sections on the alphabet together because...?? This is just one example.
Problem 3: It's below the students' ability level.
I've been upset with the first year Jr. High textbooks for years because they have been undoing the progress in English my elementary students had been making. They come in with the ability to answer questions like "What's your hobby?" or "What's your favorite ~?", and these things are striped out by the Jr. High textbooks and teachers. This takes the degredation of their English ability one step further. What I would normally be teaching to my 1st and 2nd graders is now the topic for my 5th and 6th graders. Not only that, but each lesson is broken down into 3 or 4 classes for material I know they could learn in 1, maybe 2 max. The Japanese teachers even agree with me looking through the book that it is "簡単すぎる"--too easy. The target grammar? Too easy. The textbooks activities? Too easy. And if that's not enough, they're boring too. My teachers have already asked me what activity I would choose instead, because the ones the book comes with are dull. They point to what the textbook calls a "game" and say "ゲームと言うよりクイズ。面白くない。" "Rather than a game, this is like a quiz. It's not fun". I have to agree with them. They are belittling and uninteresting activities.
Problem 4: It's racist.
This is my biggest problem with the textbook, obviously. It irritates me all the more because it's racist under the guise of "internationalization". The first lesson for the 5th graders is Greetings from Around the World. This is where I, the foreigner, am supposed to speak Russian, Chinese, Korean, Portugese, Hindi, etc. I cannot read Russian or Chinese, I can't pronounce words written in Cyrillic or Chinese kanji, and I don't want to katakana my way through them. There isn't even a Western alphabetic spelling of these words...it's the native language or katakana. I don't feel comfortable talking about cultures that are not my own without great amounts of study. I do not want to misrepresent any other country or any other language. Other lessons are things like "Look what people wear in other countries! Look what people in other countries eat!" I know the text is aiming for "Internationalization", but I only come from one country, America. I only speak English, Japanese, and a little Spanish (which, by the way, is the one language the textbook seems to have skipped; not like it's one of the most widely spoken in the world or anything). Mine is the only language/culture I feel comfortable representing. Expecting a single ALT to be the world is unrealistic. It's just as racist and isolationist to think anyone from a single foreign country can do all this as not having us at all...it's still "us Japanese as opposed to those crazy foreigners". I won't stand for it. I'm going to ask at the next meeting that we minimize this aspect of the textbook as much as possible.
I'm up to my neck in work as it is, having to teach Japanese teachers how to do their job is not exactly high on my list of things I want to do. Teaching a textbook I greatly dislike isn't helping either. Venting helps a little though, so if you made it this far, thanks for easing my burden a little.
The Ministry of Education has started making English textbooks for elementary school 5th and 6th graders. While they won't be mandatory for a couple more years, my town's elementary schools have elected to start using them. Sounds good, right? Getting the kids to get into English officially earlier on in their education should be a good thing, right? It would be, except that the textbook is an absolute total fucking disaster.
How bad can it be? Let me illuminate you.
Problem 1: The text has no appropriate target teacher.
Almost the entire teacher's manual is written in Japanese. This is great, if you can READ JAPANESE. Many ALTs (Assistant Language Teachers, read: native speaker) can't easily read large textbook passages in Japanese, even those who speak Japanese well. Meanwhile, the Japanese homeroom teacher (JHT) sees the tiny bit of English in the textbook and flips out at the thought of having to try and teach it. So the instructions for the activities are useless for both the ALT who isn't fluent in Japanese and the JHT who utterly terrified at teaching a subject they can't understand themselves.
Katie has been trying to say this to the teachers at her schools. Without Japanese, she can't read the textbook explinations or understand when the Japanese teachers read it to her. They respond by showing her all the flashcards and things that have English writing on them, but no context. So far they have gotten nowhere, and have been unable to start using the textbook.
Problem 2: It's totally disorganized.
This is a problem with most Japanese textbooks that I've encountered. The set up makes no sense from the perspective of a native speaker, or hell, anyone who can speak some English. The first lesson for 6th graders is upper case letters of the alphabet. Okay, not so bad. The second lesson is about counting. THEN, it goes back to lower case letters for the third lesson. I'm sorry, what? We can't do the sections on the alphabet together because...?? This is just one example.
Problem 3: It's below the students' ability level.
I've been upset with the first year Jr. High textbooks for years because they have been undoing the progress in English my elementary students had been making. They come in with the ability to answer questions like "What's your hobby?" or "What's your favorite ~?", and these things are striped out by the Jr. High textbooks and teachers. This takes the degredation of their English ability one step further. What I would normally be teaching to my 1st and 2nd graders is now the topic for my 5th and 6th graders. Not only that, but each lesson is broken down into 3 or 4 classes for material I know they could learn in 1, maybe 2 max. The Japanese teachers even agree with me looking through the book that it is "簡単すぎる"--too easy. The target grammar? Too easy. The textbooks activities? Too easy. And if that's not enough, they're boring too. My teachers have already asked me what activity I would choose instead, because the ones the book comes with are dull. They point to what the textbook calls a "game" and say "ゲームと言うよりクイズ。面白くない。" "Rather than a game, this is like a quiz. It's not fun". I have to agree with them. They are belittling and uninteresting activities.
Problem 4: It's racist.
This is my biggest problem with the textbook, obviously. It irritates me all the more because it's racist under the guise of "internationalization". The first lesson for the 5th graders is Greetings from Around the World. This is where I, the foreigner, am supposed to speak Russian, Chinese, Korean, Portugese, Hindi, etc. I cannot read Russian or Chinese, I can't pronounce words written in Cyrillic or Chinese kanji, and I don't want to katakana my way through them. There isn't even a Western alphabetic spelling of these words...it's the native language or katakana. I don't feel comfortable talking about cultures that are not my own without great amounts of study. I do not want to misrepresent any other country or any other language. Other lessons are things like "Look what people wear in other countries! Look what people in other countries eat!" I know the text is aiming for "Internationalization", but I only come from one country, America. I only speak English, Japanese, and a little Spanish (which, by the way, is the one language the textbook seems to have skipped; not like it's one of the most widely spoken in the world or anything). Mine is the only language/culture I feel comfortable representing. Expecting a single ALT to be the world is unrealistic. It's just as racist and isolationist to think anyone from a single foreign country can do all this as not having us at all...it's still "us Japanese as opposed to those crazy foreigners". I won't stand for it. I'm going to ask at the next meeting that we minimize this aspect of the textbook as much as possible.
I'm up to my neck in work as it is, having to teach Japanese teachers how to do their job is not exactly high on my list of things I want to do. Teaching a textbook I greatly dislike isn't helping either. Venting helps a little though, so if you made it this far, thanks for easing my burden a little.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Yokohama Blues
Sunday, Day 1:
The warm embrace of spring was just starting to encircle Hyogo when I left this afternoon. Winter still has it's grip around Kanazawa though. Yokohama is cold and grey. As of yet, it strikes me as simply a northern version of Kobe. Looking up what food this city is known for, I find just like Kobe that foreign food is the way to go, say Mexican or Thai. I'm told I'll have to go to Chinatown, as it's the only one in Japan larger than Kobe's, but I'm in no mood to try it tonight. Stereotypcially, I sit in a Starbucks, as it's the only reliably decent coffee in this country, and watch the people walking by. Nothing that interesting. Huge bags and cell phones in everyone's hands. Winter coats and furry boots make me feel chilly in the lighter coat and tennis shoes I have on. It puts me right back into the winter funk I'd finally been emerging from at home.
So far I say bahumbug to Yokohama. We'll see if it gets better with the arrival of friends.
Monday, Day 2:
The first day of the conference for returning JETs. Until running into some friends at lunch near the venue, I was feeling lost in a sea of foreigners, clearly other JETs here for the conference. The highlight of the day was definitely riding the little roller coaster in the little amusement park before registering at the Pacifico. How often do you get to ride a roller coaster between skyscrapers, after all?
The first day of conference itself was rather depressing. Being confronted with the difficulty of finding a job in the current world market, dealing with reverse culture shock and thinking about what one's leaving impressions will be weren't exactly light-hearted subjects, despite the excellence of those presenting each subject. I felt the acute tightening of my stomach and heart muscles at the thought of leaving what has been my life for the last three years. While in December and January nothing seemed as appealing as going home, the reality of leaving everything I have here, forever, is pretty terrifying at times. I know my reverse culture shock will really be reverse lifestyle shock. I will miss my home. I will miss my friends. I will miss my job. I will miss my kids. The thought that it may all go on to someone else is strange. My friends will all be distant, while the old friends at home will probably be even less existent. The knowledge I probably won't have anything as reliable and enjoyable for employment at at home doesn't help with the separation anxiety. Maybe some of the discontent I'm feeling here in Yokohama has to do with that fear rather than the reality of the city itself.
A night out in Chinatown with friends didn't cheer me up as much as I'd hoped. So-so Japanese-style Chinese food in portions I could have eaten twice over was again something I could have had in Kobe. Had I wanted, I could have spent even more money and gone out to Shinjuku for drinks at the over-priced Lost in Translation bar, but opted instead to go back to the hotel and share cheap beers with a couple friends staying the same hotel as me. While this was a good time, it was again nothing I needed to come to Yokohama for. Went back to my room at about 11 for a fitful, unrestful sleep, dry electric heat on full blast to keep me remotely comfortable.
Tuesday, Day 3:
Another day full of depressing thoughts presented as workshops and conferences. A few helpful tips in what for me is a mounting sea of indecision and panic. Grad school? I'm qualified to continue the Asian Studies route but find myself repulsed at the thought of continuing in that purely academic field. Teaching is a possibility, but I have a lot of educational catching-up to do if I want to go that route. Graphic design is totally and completely unrelated to both my degree and my experience on JET. Still, I take the packets, I take notes, and I try to take it easy. The embassy panel with the Foreign Service folks is pretty interesting, though it's clear that's not an easy field to get into either. It is an option I did find a bit more appealing though, and I take it into consideration.
That's the last workshop of the day, and I find at the end nearly all the people I would have hung out with are leaving to head back to Hyogo. I planned on just going back to my hotel for a night of Discovery Channel and reading. Thankfully, I ran into Nate instead. Only someone with the 1000-watt personality he has could bring me out of my funk. Having bitched about Yokohama, he insists I should at least see it from the water. We go down to the pier and catch a boat around the harbor. While it's no Hong Kong (a city for which I have previously expressed great affection), I must admit it's not a bad view. The Landmark Tower, the tallest building in Japan, the giant illuminated ferris wheel and a striking full moon make lovely night photos. Having read his travel brochures, he points out to me all the interesting and famous sites along the harbor. We disembark at one end to get right on another boat and travel back to the opposite side of the harbor. There we get off and find some dinner in a cool refurbished turn-of-the-century warehouse. We chat about this and that. It's extremely comforting to me to talk to someone else who has no clue what's going to happen next in life, but still stays positive. We walk along the harbor and over to the Sakuragicho train station, where we part ways.
The cold still bites a bit on the walk home, but I am finally slightly less grumpy about it.
Wednesday, Day 4:
Some milky sunshine has managed to peek through the clouds at last. Thankfully this is the one day where we could really enjoy it. The last day of the conference is only 9-12:30. Again, some is useful, some is not. I'm leaving this conference with mostly the same ideas, questions and worries I came in with, but with a few extra pounds of paper that are supposed to help me figure out what to do (though the answer seems to be network, network, network, for the record).
For this, I missed my Jr. High school's graduation, which is a bit upsetting. The kids graduating now were first-year Jr. High students when I came in, and now they're "all grown up". I have actually had tears come to my eyes thinking about it. Still, I was scheduled for elementary school this week...I would have missed it even if I was at home.
I had planned to head straight home, or maybe wander on my own for a bit, but I ran into yet another group of people I knew and ended up once again going to the amusement park, this time for a ferris wheel ride. Shortly after that the clouds came back in, and our group split between those going to Kamakura for the afternoon to see the big bronze Buddha and those going back to Hyogo on the shinkansen. With little cash left and a dead camera battery, I decided not to reunite with my second-favorite Buddha, but rather to head home. From Nagoya onward the weather perked up again, and I napped pleasantly in my window seat, book open on my lap and acoustic songs in my ears. Best rest I've had the whole trip.
Back at home at last, and while I didn't do much, I find myself ready for bed at 9:00. Happy to be home though, for the remaining time that it is home.
The warm embrace of spring was just starting to encircle Hyogo when I left this afternoon. Winter still has it's grip around Kanazawa though. Yokohama is cold and grey. As of yet, it strikes me as simply a northern version of Kobe. Looking up what food this city is known for, I find just like Kobe that foreign food is the way to go, say Mexican or Thai. I'm told I'll have to go to Chinatown, as it's the only one in Japan larger than Kobe's, but I'm in no mood to try it tonight. Stereotypcially, I sit in a Starbucks, as it's the only reliably decent coffee in this country, and watch the people walking by. Nothing that interesting. Huge bags and cell phones in everyone's hands. Winter coats and furry boots make me feel chilly in the lighter coat and tennis shoes I have on. It puts me right back into the winter funk I'd finally been emerging from at home.
So far I say bahumbug to Yokohama. We'll see if it gets better with the arrival of friends.
Monday, Day 2:
The first day of the conference for returning JETs. Until running into some friends at lunch near the venue, I was feeling lost in a sea of foreigners, clearly other JETs here for the conference. The highlight of the day was definitely riding the little roller coaster in the little amusement park before registering at the Pacifico. How often do you get to ride a roller coaster between skyscrapers, after all?
The first day of conference itself was rather depressing. Being confronted with the difficulty of finding a job in the current world market, dealing with reverse culture shock and thinking about what one's leaving impressions will be weren't exactly light-hearted subjects, despite the excellence of those presenting each subject. I felt the acute tightening of my stomach and heart muscles at the thought of leaving what has been my life for the last three years. While in December and January nothing seemed as appealing as going home, the reality of leaving everything I have here, forever, is pretty terrifying at times. I know my reverse culture shock will really be reverse lifestyle shock. I will miss my home. I will miss my friends. I will miss my job. I will miss my kids. The thought that it may all go on to someone else is strange. My friends will all be distant, while the old friends at home will probably be even less existent. The knowledge I probably won't have anything as reliable and enjoyable for employment at at home doesn't help with the separation anxiety. Maybe some of the discontent I'm feeling here in Yokohama has to do with that fear rather than the reality of the city itself.
A night out in Chinatown with friends didn't cheer me up as much as I'd hoped. So-so Japanese-style Chinese food in portions I could have eaten twice over was again something I could have had in Kobe. Had I wanted, I could have spent even more money and gone out to Shinjuku for drinks at the over-priced Lost in Translation bar, but opted instead to go back to the hotel and share cheap beers with a couple friends staying the same hotel as me. While this was a good time, it was again nothing I needed to come to Yokohama for. Went back to my room at about 11 for a fitful, unrestful sleep, dry electric heat on full blast to keep me remotely comfortable.
Tuesday, Day 3:
Another day full of depressing thoughts presented as workshops and conferences. A few helpful tips in what for me is a mounting sea of indecision and panic. Grad school? I'm qualified to continue the Asian Studies route but find myself repulsed at the thought of continuing in that purely academic field. Teaching is a possibility, but I have a lot of educational catching-up to do if I want to go that route. Graphic design is totally and completely unrelated to both my degree and my experience on JET. Still, I take the packets, I take notes, and I try to take it easy. The embassy panel with the Foreign Service folks is pretty interesting, though it's clear that's not an easy field to get into either. It is an option I did find a bit more appealing though, and I take it into consideration.
That's the last workshop of the day, and I find at the end nearly all the people I would have hung out with are leaving to head back to Hyogo. I planned on just going back to my hotel for a night of Discovery Channel and reading. Thankfully, I ran into Nate instead. Only someone with the 1000-watt personality he has could bring me out of my funk. Having bitched about Yokohama, he insists I should at least see it from the water. We go down to the pier and catch a boat around the harbor. While it's no Hong Kong (a city for which I have previously expressed great affection), I must admit it's not a bad view. The Landmark Tower, the tallest building in Japan, the giant illuminated ferris wheel and a striking full moon make lovely night photos. Having read his travel brochures, he points out to me all the interesting and famous sites along the harbor. We disembark at one end to get right on another boat and travel back to the opposite side of the harbor. There we get off and find some dinner in a cool refurbished turn-of-the-century warehouse. We chat about this and that. It's extremely comforting to me to talk to someone else who has no clue what's going to happen next in life, but still stays positive. We walk along the harbor and over to the Sakuragicho train station, where we part ways.
The cold still bites a bit on the walk home, but I am finally slightly less grumpy about it.
Wednesday, Day 4:
Some milky sunshine has managed to peek through the clouds at last. Thankfully this is the one day where we could really enjoy it. The last day of the conference is only 9-12:30. Again, some is useful, some is not. I'm leaving this conference with mostly the same ideas, questions and worries I came in with, but with a few extra pounds of paper that are supposed to help me figure out what to do (though the answer seems to be network, network, network, for the record).
For this, I missed my Jr. High school's graduation, which is a bit upsetting. The kids graduating now were first-year Jr. High students when I came in, and now they're "all grown up". I have actually had tears come to my eyes thinking about it. Still, I was scheduled for elementary school this week...I would have missed it even if I was at home.
I had planned to head straight home, or maybe wander on my own for a bit, but I ran into yet another group of people I knew and ended up once again going to the amusement park, this time for a ferris wheel ride. Shortly after that the clouds came back in, and our group split between those going to Kamakura for the afternoon to see the big bronze Buddha and those going back to Hyogo on the shinkansen. With little cash left and a dead camera battery, I decided not to reunite with my second-favorite Buddha, but rather to head home. From Nagoya onward the weather perked up again, and I napped pleasantly in my window seat, book open on my lap and acoustic songs in my ears. Best rest I've had the whole trip.
Back at home at last, and while I didn't do much, I find myself ready for bed at 9:00. Happy to be home though, for the remaining time that it is home.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Blatant Idea Theft: Review of Zooooom! Tour in Kobe
I've been packing my weekends full of live music recently, usually hitting one or two shows every weekend for the last month. Only one of these was a big foreign act (My Morning Jacket @ Club Quattro), the rest being smaller clubs and venues. Last Sunday there was a show at Varit in Kobe, and since I'm bored at work, I'm gonna do a little write-up on it here.
Varit is all you could ask for in a small Japanese club. You wouldn't expect it to be so large when you decend the stairs from street level to get inside, but it's definitely bigger than your average basement club. You don't even see the stage when you first enter, as it's down another set of stairs facing the dancefloor. The second level where you enter has the bar and a balcony to see the show below. There are tables and chairs for those who want to sip drinks and listen casually, and plenty of room below by the stage for those who want to dance away the night. You can see and hear perfectly well from just about anywhere in the club. The walls are covered with interesting posters of bands you've never heard of.
Unlike the friends I'm arriving with, I've been to Varit before. I'm confident I've hit the right note with my brown felt dress, black sweater and knee-high socks. Dancey, cute and casual. I have to keep up with Atsuko after all, and she's just about the coolest girl I know. We've come to this show on her recommendation, and her recommendations are never wrong. Naturally, she's there to meet us, wearing an outfit that would put her equally at home in Osaka, Japan or Olympia, Washington. After exchanging our mandatory 500 yen drink tickets for tequilla sunrises, we head downstairs to the stage.
The band Atsuko wants to see is up first, a group called Valva. While their name comes a little too close to the English for parts of the female anatomy for me to want to buy a t-shirt, it's hard not to fall instantly in love with them. The bass player is also the lead singer, with hair down to his midsection, cheetah-print pants and a voice that sounds like it belongs to a girl half his age. The drummer is quite the sight to behold too, as he blazes away, either counting or singing quite visibly to himself. There's no question these guys rock though. Atsuko and I are up at the front dancing away, when the bass player sits down on the ground for a while. Atsuko whispers to me that this is the best song, and that it will speed up. I don't doubt for a second it'll be worth the build. When they're finished, I go straight to the mech table and get their album.
Next up is Analog Jidai (アナログ時代). While there was no question Valva rocked, they were rather hippish compared to the boys in this band, leather jackets and jeans. The guitarist and bassist switched off on vocals. Not as "interesting" as Valva, but definitely fun to listen too. Again, I found myself dancing happily away.
After a longer break, The 48s are up. Suddenly a gaggle of girls in matching t-shirts are up at the front of the stage, positioned in two rows, ready for what is clearly their favorite band. The only band of the night to feature just 3 memebers (the rest are 4-piece), Atsuko tells me the lead singer had a previous band that was really popular. A big mop of hair and black rimmed glasses make it clear he is definitely the darling of the fanclub's hearts. He knows it too. He chats up the fans between songs, which invariably results in squeals of delight from them. It's the bass player's last tour with the band, but no one seems to care that much about him. The fangirls have choreographed moves for certain parts of each song, which my friends and I try to pick up for fun, usually a beat behind. Their set is bouncy, by far the poppiest band of the night, which doesn't surprise me. Still, it's enjoyable enough for all us non-fangirls too.
Between The 48s and the last act, The Keys, I start chatting with Analog Jidai's bass player, who'd come over to thank me for buying their album. After the usual formalities of "oh, your Japanese is so good" "no no no, it's not", he tells me The Keys sing songs in English. I'm thinking he means they have one or two songs in English, or that they have pieces of English in a lot of their songs. It's only when they come out and start playing that I realize he meant ALL of their songs are ALL in English. This is definitely a first for a me at a Japanese rock show. The lead singer's English is clearly not native, he has the stereotypical nasal sound of Japanese-English. Still, the grammar is surprisingly good compared to what you usually find in the J-pop mainstream (clearly, I'm thinking like an English teacher, hehe). Though it's not perfect, it's a hell of a lot better than what you normally find, and that in itself is pretty impressive. The music isn't bad either--not as poppy as The 48s, though also not as interesting as Valva. They encore with "There She Goes," which is the best cover I've seen since I saw Shonen Knife play "Daydream Believer". House lights come up, and that's a wrap for the Zooooom! Tour.
Like most shows here in Japan, this one gets out early enough for me to catch my last train home with time to spare. In fact, there is even enough time for a quick bowl of ramen with Atsuko and Clay. On the platform at the station, Atsuko and I sift through the stack of flyers and promos we were handed at the door. You get these at every show, and they are stuffed in bags and lockers, often forgotten on purpose. But Atsuko and I always look through to see what gig might be worth going out to next. As we wait for her train, we mark a few interesting looking shows, and plan to set something up. We've already got plans for Calvin Johnson and Karl Blau in Kyoto next month, we'll see if we can fit a couple more in. I hug Atsuko goodbye and she dashes off as her train arrives.
Ten minutes later on my own train home, I finally have a quiet moment to enjoy the ringing in my ears. Yup, it's been a good night.
Varit is all you could ask for in a small Japanese club. You wouldn't expect it to be so large when you decend the stairs from street level to get inside, but it's definitely bigger than your average basement club. You don't even see the stage when you first enter, as it's down another set of stairs facing the dancefloor. The second level where you enter has the bar and a balcony to see the show below. There are tables and chairs for those who want to sip drinks and listen casually, and plenty of room below by the stage for those who want to dance away the night. You can see and hear perfectly well from just about anywhere in the club. The walls are covered with interesting posters of bands you've never heard of.
Unlike the friends I'm arriving with, I've been to Varit before. I'm confident I've hit the right note with my brown felt dress, black sweater and knee-high socks. Dancey, cute and casual. I have to keep up with Atsuko after all, and she's just about the coolest girl I know. We've come to this show on her recommendation, and her recommendations are never wrong. Naturally, she's there to meet us, wearing an outfit that would put her equally at home in Osaka, Japan or Olympia, Washington. After exchanging our mandatory 500 yen drink tickets for tequilla sunrises, we head downstairs to the stage.
The band Atsuko wants to see is up first, a group called Valva. While their name comes a little too close to the English for parts of the female anatomy for me to want to buy a t-shirt, it's hard not to fall instantly in love with them. The bass player is also the lead singer, with hair down to his midsection, cheetah-print pants and a voice that sounds like it belongs to a girl half his age. The drummer is quite the sight to behold too, as he blazes away, either counting or singing quite visibly to himself. There's no question these guys rock though. Atsuko and I are up at the front dancing away, when the bass player sits down on the ground for a while. Atsuko whispers to me that this is the best song, and that it will speed up. I don't doubt for a second it'll be worth the build. When they're finished, I go straight to the mech table and get their album.
Next up is Analog Jidai (アナログ時代). While there was no question Valva rocked, they were rather hippish compared to the boys in this band, leather jackets and jeans. The guitarist and bassist switched off on vocals. Not as "interesting" as Valva, but definitely fun to listen too. Again, I found myself dancing happily away.
After a longer break, The 48s are up. Suddenly a gaggle of girls in matching t-shirts are up at the front of the stage, positioned in two rows, ready for what is clearly their favorite band. The only band of the night to feature just 3 memebers (the rest are 4-piece), Atsuko tells me the lead singer had a previous band that was really popular. A big mop of hair and black rimmed glasses make it clear he is definitely the darling of the fanclub's hearts. He knows it too. He chats up the fans between songs, which invariably results in squeals of delight from them. It's the bass player's last tour with the band, but no one seems to care that much about him. The fangirls have choreographed moves for certain parts of each song, which my friends and I try to pick up for fun, usually a beat behind. Their set is bouncy, by far the poppiest band of the night, which doesn't surprise me. Still, it's enjoyable enough for all us non-fangirls too.
Between The 48s and the last act, The Keys, I start chatting with Analog Jidai's bass player, who'd come over to thank me for buying their album. After the usual formalities of "oh, your Japanese is so good" "no no no, it's not", he tells me The Keys sing songs in English. I'm thinking he means they have one or two songs in English, or that they have pieces of English in a lot of their songs. It's only when they come out and start playing that I realize he meant ALL of their songs are ALL in English. This is definitely a first for a me at a Japanese rock show. The lead singer's English is clearly not native, he has the stereotypical nasal sound of Japanese-English. Still, the grammar is surprisingly good compared to what you usually find in the J-pop mainstream (clearly, I'm thinking like an English teacher, hehe). Though it's not perfect, it's a hell of a lot better than what you normally find, and that in itself is pretty impressive. The music isn't bad either--not as poppy as The 48s, though also not as interesting as Valva. They encore with "There She Goes," which is the best cover I've seen since I saw Shonen Knife play "Daydream Believer". House lights come up, and that's a wrap for the Zooooom! Tour.
Like most shows here in Japan, this one gets out early enough for me to catch my last train home with time to spare. In fact, there is even enough time for a quick bowl of ramen with Atsuko and Clay. On the platform at the station, Atsuko and I sift through the stack of flyers and promos we were handed at the door. You get these at every show, and they are stuffed in bags and lockers, often forgotten on purpose. But Atsuko and I always look through to see what gig might be worth going out to next. As we wait for her train, we mark a few interesting looking shows, and plan to set something up. We've already got plans for Calvin Johnson and Karl Blau in Kyoto next month, we'll see if we can fit a couple more in. I hug Atsuko goodbye and she dashes off as her train arrives.
Ten minutes later on my own train home, I finally have a quiet moment to enjoy the ringing in my ears. Yup, it's been a good night.
Monday, February 23, 2009
A story in which our hero has bike stolen, reported, and replaced in record time
i bike to the train station every day to get to work. as i am not a morning person, this often entails me pedaling like a madwoman, chucking my bike into the bike lot, paying the attendant the 100 yen fee, and dashing to the platform. today was one such day, and as occasionally happens, i was in such a rush i left my bike keys in the bike.
i realized this on the train ride home. no biggie, i thought, the key will be there in the lot when i arrive.
accept it wasn't there. and neither was my bike.
after giving the whole lot the twice and thrice over, i walk over to the police box by the station. i tell the tv-watching officer on duty i believe my bike's been stolen. he tells me to go talk to the station folks. i can tell he just doesn't want to deal with me. still, i go over to the ticket booth at the station and explain again what's happened. this gentleman tells me the parking lot is the town's, and i'll have to talk to someone who works for the town.
exasperated sigh.
rather than running in any more circles, i call my Board of Education. my supervisor isn't in, but Azumi-san, who went on the ski trip to Nagano, talks to me. i explain about my bike, and he says start walking home, he'll call me back.
frustrated and upset, i start walking home. i'm thinking i'll probably be spending the better part of the evening trying to explain this to other people at my B.o.E, possibly even the police. tears don't fall, but there's a sting at the back of my eyes as i start to think about having to walk to the station for the next week or so at the very least.
before i even get all the way home, Nakatsuka-san, the B.o.E. chief, calls me. he asks where i am, and i tell him i'm walking home still. he asks me what i'm near and to wait there. alright.
after leaning on the wall of Uni Qlo for no more than 5 minutes, Azumi and Nakatsuka show up in a van together. With a bicycle in the back.
i'm in total disbelief as they pull it out of the van, explain that this is just an old bike the B.o.E. has, but it's mine to use for now. if it weren't a strange and probably discomforting thing for them, i would have hugged them both. i can't believe how generous and how fast they are. a B.o.E. i often complain about for its slowness and inefficiency. total shock.
i bow and bow and bow, say my osewaninarimashitas, and they humbly accept my thanks, saying how it's just an old bike, no big deal. then they get back into the van, and ride my new bike the rest of the way home.
and that's another one for the "only in Japan" book.
i realized this on the train ride home. no biggie, i thought, the key will be there in the lot when i arrive.
accept it wasn't there. and neither was my bike.
after giving the whole lot the twice and thrice over, i walk over to the police box by the station. i tell the tv-watching officer on duty i believe my bike's been stolen. he tells me to go talk to the station folks. i can tell he just doesn't want to deal with me. still, i go over to the ticket booth at the station and explain again what's happened. this gentleman tells me the parking lot is the town's, and i'll have to talk to someone who works for the town.
exasperated sigh.
rather than running in any more circles, i call my Board of Education. my supervisor isn't in, but Azumi-san, who went on the ski trip to Nagano, talks to me. i explain about my bike, and he says start walking home, he'll call me back.
frustrated and upset, i start walking home. i'm thinking i'll probably be spending the better part of the evening trying to explain this to other people at my B.o.E, possibly even the police. tears don't fall, but there's a sting at the back of my eyes as i start to think about having to walk to the station for the next week or so at the very least.
before i even get all the way home, Nakatsuka-san, the B.o.E. chief, calls me. he asks where i am, and i tell him i'm walking home still. he asks me what i'm near and to wait there. alright.
after leaning on the wall of Uni Qlo for no more than 5 minutes, Azumi and Nakatsuka show up in a van together. With a bicycle in the back.
i'm in total disbelief as they pull it out of the van, explain that this is just an old bike the B.o.E. has, but it's mine to use for now. if it weren't a strange and probably discomforting thing for them, i would have hugged them both. i can't believe how generous and how fast they are. a B.o.E. i often complain about for its slowness and inefficiency. total shock.
i bow and bow and bow, say my osewaninarimashitas, and they humbly accept my thanks, saying how it's just an old bike, no big deal. then they get back into the van, and ride my new bike the rest of the way home.
and that's another one for the "only in Japan" book.
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