Recently in Ubuyama Category

This entry marks the end of my life in Ubuyama-mura, and so I am retiring my old banner for a new one. I think it is a good image for the blog up until now, but it is time to move on and to start afresh.

I have been meaning on posting pictures from all around Ubuyama with the purpose of making my own guide to the village for a long time, and today I finally sat down and did it.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that the great majority of signs in my village are labeled in Japanese and English. I do wish that they kept the sign as "Pubic Office" for the picture's sake.

Ubuyama is a really small village with a population under 1,800 and falling. There just aren't an abundance of jobs and young people tend to move out of the village in pursuit of employment, relationships (there just aren't many young people around), or entertainment. Lacking these staples of life, many would ask "Why would you choose to live in some place so remote?". Well, I can tell you that the reason why I stayed 2 years were for the children, the natural setting, and being in the center of Kyushu. I loved teaching here because the younger children were so enthusiastic about learning and because I felt that I was making a difference in their lives.

I enjoyed teaching at middle school too, but I didn't get to set curriculum and the students tended to lose their enthusiasm for English due to the radical change in lessons. From nursery school until elementary, the lessons were full of games and conversational English, but from their first day in junior high school without any transitional period, they were pushed to learn by rote memorization and much of the fun and spontaneity instantly vanished. Luckily, some of the kids retained their interest, and I tried to keep their attention by making unconventional lessons and incorporating games whenever I had the opportunity.

But this post isn't supposed to be about my teaching experiences, it's about introducing Ubuyama from my perspective. For this, I will examine the village as a whole and then break down Ubuyama into three main areas: Hokubu (Northern Ubuyama), Yamaga (Central Ubuyama), and Nambu (Southern Ubuyama).

Earlier, I erroneously posted a thistle that I thought to be the village flower of Ubuyama called the Higothai. These are pictures of the real flower, which should right now be coming into full bloom. The first two were taken in the Hokubu region of Ubuyama and the last one was at Daikanbo on the Northern section of the rim of the Aso Caldera.

I am frustruated with my Board of Education and with a principal with whom I work with, as they are putting me in the worst sort of position. I feel an obligation to help prepare my successor for her new life in Ubuyama-mura and to prepare the village for her. Everyone is very concerned about having a female ALT (all three previous JETs have been male), and so there is a flurry of last minute preparations being made in order to make sure that she will not be scared away by the living conditions in Ubuyama.

I understand and support their decision to fix everything that has been broken in my apartment for these two years, and feel good for the next JET. I initially felt jealous for the great efforts they are making to renovate this place, but I am glad they are doing it, because it is hard enough acclimating to living deep in the inaka as it is.

Lately, the BOE and principal have been making many demands of me to meet the hastily devised renovation plans in my apartment, including giving me short notice to get my stuff out and to clean the apartment. I was irritated, but I understood their concerns, and so have gone along with it as best as I could. However, I find myself feeling angry, disappointed, and regretful at a time where I should be enjoying the rich pains of leaving behind the kids who I have come to love, and other good friends.

The principal and the BOE have shoved me into a corner regarding my car. As I am trying to help out in any capacity that I can, I have been providing any information that they ask for without hesitataion. Last night at the farewell enkai, the principal asked me what I planned on doing with my car. I explained that I was going to sell it, and had notified my successor of the cost, condition, and improvements made to the car. He told me that she should not have to buy my car, and so I explained that I recently paid the vehicle tax and inspection tax (shakken) to the tune of 40,000 yen and 130,000 yen respectively, and was asking a fair price considering the money that I put into the car. After all, the shakken is good for 1 and a half more years! In addition, I have spent money on improving and keeping the car well maintained, so that it is running better than when I first got it. He argued that no one drives cars that old in Japan, and I pointed out that almost all of the JETs drive cars that old. I told him that my intention was not to take advantage of my successor, and that I was open to suggestions, and he replied that a friend could give her a car for free. When I said "Thats great, what type of car will he give her?" he replied "That was just an example (there is no free car).". I asked what the cheapest price that my successor could hope to buy a used car for is, and he replied 200,000 yen. I pointed out that the price that I was asking for (70,000 yen) was less that the other JETs had offered their old cars for, but this didn't make much of an impression on him. I ended the conversation by suggesting that we further discuss the matter.

This afternoon, I got called into the BOE by the new supervisor, a man whom I get along with rather well. It became aparent that the principal had taken the liberty of going behind my back, and telling my supervisor to talk to me. He offered me two options: junking my car (at most likely a loss of income- cost of junking the car but getting a partial refund for the car tax) or handing over ownership to my successor with a suggestion that asking for any money would be an unacceptable course of action. Because of this, I may have to sell the car to a friend instead of selling it for a reasonable price to my successor (who will need a car to stay sane in this village. now, she will probably just have to pay three times as much to get one.).

Let me say this: I understand the BOE's and principal's recent actions are the result of their deep-seeded concerns about the impression that they cast on the first female ALT to come to Ubuyama. I support their efforts, and wish her the best of luck, and I am staying for about 10 days past my contract VOLUNTARILY WITHOUT PAY to help show her around and to help the BOE get things settled. I don't think it's too much to expect the professional courtesy of receiving sufficient notice about when they want me out of my apartment, about letting me know when I am to give farewell speeches and when the ceremonies are (considering that I am the obstensibly the one for whom the ceremonies are being held), and I surely expect that I would be treated with the professional courtesy of DISCUSSING points of disagreement instead of talking behind my back and not trying to see things from my perspective. They wouldn't do this to a Japanese person, so what makes them think it is acceptable to do this to a gaijin (oh, wait... I think I answered my own question)?

I feel that I have worked my hardest to fulfill my duties as a JET, as both a representative of the United States (I don't fancy myself as an ambassador, but realize that I am one of only two Americans that these kids have met and know that they associate me with the whole of America in some ways) in Japan and as a teacher. I have gone out of my way to make myself useful, and have done things like setting up an English club run out of my house free of charge to my students. I have taken an active interest in studying about teaching methods during my free time and implementing them in class, often staying after working hours to do a good job. I have made a point of learning the customs and studying Japanese to bridge the language gap between us. Is it really too much to ask for a little consideration, professionalism, and consideration of ethical behavior in the workplace in return? As much as I will miss the students, I most definetely will not miss the treachery, insincerety, or the incompetence I have witnessed during my two years. The speeches made about how much I am appreciated for my efforts have lost all meaning, as dishonest actions have revealed the words to contain little integrety. I would have had more respect had the principal called me a worthless gaijin in front of the whole village and revealed how I was truly regarded.

These qualities are not held by the majority of those with whom I work, only by a few individuals. On the contrary, I was quite shocked by this behavior because it greatly contrasts the values held by almost all of the teachers, faculty, and others working in Ubuyama-mura.

To end on a positive note, I believe that the JET Programme is a great program that has a positive net effect both on the Japanese society in which it works as a part of the educational system and on its participants. I belive that negative attitudes and widely held false beliefs of Japanese people about foreign languages, cultures, and peoples are slowly changing. I do not regret my time on JET, as I feel that I have made a difference.

I have noticed a marked improvement on the confidence and abilities of my students. They have learned about different cultures (not just in my class, as I work with many good teachers), and have a genuine interest about people that are different from themselves. Watching the students grow and mature into the curious, enthusiastic learners that they are today has made me feel really good about investing two years into this community. The students are the ones who are greatful for my efforts, paying me back with their rapt attention. It is them, along with some of the other wonderful people I have had the honor of meeting in this small community, that I will miss. Goodbye and farewell, but I fear I shall never return Ubuyama, except for the Ubuyama in my mind.

I translated this from Japanese last year, and just found it as I was looking through old documents. These are the elementary schools where I have worked for these past two years.

Our Village
Yamaga Elementary School is located in the northern region of Ubuyama-mura, at an altitude of 640 meters. The school was constructed in Showa 45 (1970), and the gymnasium was rebuilt in Heisei 8 (1996). Northern Ubuyama covers a large area, so it is necessary for the children, who live in the southern part of the village, to ride on the bus to and from school.

Yamaga Elementary School is nestled among the scenic mountains. A forest sprawls out to the East, South, and West. Moreover, the mountains of Kuju (Oita Prefecture) can be seen to the North, off in the distance. To the West of the school, steps made of stone descend the mountain, leading to a large road. If you follow this road to the right, you will pass many points of interest. At the bottom of the slope (after passing through the tunnel), on the left hand side you will see (in this order) Ubuyama Junior High School, The Agricultural Cooperative Association(JAA), A-Mart, the Ubuyama Public Office, the Health Clinic, and a couple of gas stations. Across the street from the public office is a JA Bank, and the Post office.

Sweet Potato Digging
Each year the children of Yamaga Elementary School, and their parents, go hiking in the local mountains. Another interesting event is the rabbit hunt, after which the rabbits are used as the main ingredient in a rice dish, and also in a stew. In back of the school building, children enjoy using the playground for all sorts of outdoor activities.
A charcoal kiln is set up beside the playground where students are taught how to make charcoal.

Hokubu (Northern Ubuyama) Elementary School
Located in Northern Ubuyama is Hokubu Elementary School. A prefectural road stretches along the front of the school. On their way home, the children often pass through the cedar forests surrounding the school. The people of Hokubu look forward to attending various school events, such as the Harvest festival and the Source music festival.

It feels as if I have spent a long, long time in Ubuyama, but I also feel that my stay in your village has passed so quickly. These days are very busy as I pack up my house, make preparations for your new JET, and give my last lessons. Saying goodbye makes me sad and churns up a feeling of dread in my stomach, and yet, I cherish this feeling. It means that we have developed a meaningful relationship that I really don?t want to lose.

Two years ago, when I first learned where I was to teach, I knew very little about Ubuyama. I only knew that it was near Mount Aso and that it was right in the middle of Kyushu. I was concerned about what life out in the deep inaka would be like, but I have grown to love the life out here. Living in Ubuyama is a rare opportunity, especially for an American like me. I have traveled all over Japan, and I know that this place stands out as a diamond in the rough. This is most likely the last time in my life that I will live somewhere where I can leave the keys in the ignition of my car and be sure that it will be completely safe.

After spending some time in the city I have noticed that many things, ranging from the people to the food, seem more genuine in the inaka. The food has a simpler, purer, earthier taste and not fancy packaging. The emphasis on locally produced food is for nutrition and taste, as opposed to appearance and cost. The people don?t act as superficially as they do in the city, and are quick to lend a hand in a time of need. I wake up to the sounds of songbirds singing and crows scrounging for food, and go to sleep hearing the sound of rain pelting against my roof and the magnificently loud frogs calling from the rice field next to my house. Not to mention the air and water. Where I come from, you need a special filter to treat your water, and when you blow your nose, the black particulate matter from the air is visible in your mucous.

Thank you for giving me so many rare opportunities to be part of your community. Many people have expressed envy when I tell them of how I was allowed to be part of the fire brigade. Thank you for this wonderful opportunity and for spending time to help me learn how do perform the drills. Also, I know that many people, including teachers, students, workers from the yakuba, neighbors, and various other people have helped me over the two years I have been here in one way or another, and I want to express my appreciation. You all helped my life to run much smoother and I couldn?t have survived without you. I have learned much about the Japanese language and Japanese culture (especially the culture of central Kyushu and Kumamoto) and I am in your debt.

Lastly, I want to say thank you for allowing me to teach your children and to get to know them. The kids were always my favorite part of the job, and it has been especially hard saying goodbye to so many of my little friends. I have never encountered such a nice, innocent, and intelligent batch of kids before and it is them that I will miss the most. I wish Ubuyama the greatest success in its innovative plans for the future, both in development of the village and in education. Thank you very much for hosting me for these two wonderful years, and know that I will never forget the small, wonderful village hidden away in the middle of Kyushu known as Ubuyama.

Yoshihiro: Dad, do you remember that you said I could have a pet if I brought up my grades?

Yoshihiro's dad: Hmmmm... You have been getting good grades in school. I think you're ready for the responsibility. You can pick any cow you like. Toshiki, pass the steak would you?

Yoshihiro: Can I have the calf with the big eyes?

Yoshihiro's dad: Why not? What's her name?

Yoshihiro: Britney! She's so cute, just like my cow!

Yoshihiro's dad: Great Yoshi-kun, make sure Britney eats a lot every day, and don't make her get too much exercise. On another note, have you boys noticed that beef prices at an all time high, thanks to the BSE situation in America? We're going to Disneyland this Summer!

Yoshihiro: What's wrong Toshiki?

Toshiki: I can't find Mary. I looked everywhere, but she just isn't on the farm! It's all my fault dad. I lost her... forgive me!

Yoshihiro's dad: There, there son. I forgot to tell you that I had to send Mary away to Bovine University. You want her to be happy, right? Wow, this steak is awesome!

Toshiki: Yeah... I do, but I don't understand...

Yoshihiro's dad: Great! Glad that's settled. Yoshihiro, can you pass the A-1?

This is the Higothai flower, the flower of Ubuyama village. As some of you may know I used to hate bees. They used to sting me quite often. even though I avoided them, they would regularly land on me and jab me with their stingers. One time, I had to take a Tae Kwon Do orange belt test even though I had been stung on the sole of my foot- I passed, but it hurt like hell. I have since overcome my fear, and so I was able to get really close to this one.

Makiko, Waka, and Sayuki prepare to whoop some ass.

Today, I walked in to the lunch room and heard the nursery school teachers mumbling my name. They collectively looked up, all of them wearing the same conspiratorial grin and called me a "Casablanca dandy". Now what the hell does one make of that?

The undokai is described as a "sports festival", and that's exactly what it it. I had a hard time accepting this term at face value, because the concept was foreign to me, but that's exactly what it is. The whole community comes together to participate in the festivities, and play wacky Japanese-style group games. Undokai are an important social event that brings everyone together for one whole exhausting day.

This year, I was on the victorious red team. The kids are gettin' their kung-fu poses on, Big Trouble In Little China style.

My students put in hours practicing a really cool dance, but I think that the dude on the right (Chiyuki) blew it, judging from the looks on Tomoyuki's (center) and Masaoki's (right) faces.

I really like my student's paintings this year. The red team's character wielding the wakizashi looks "Sassy" (Sprechen sie sassy?).

Now that's sassy!

Today I woke up at 7:00, donned my blue firefighter uniform, stepped into my shiny black rainboots, and drilled until noon with all of the men of the Ubuyama Fire Brigade. As the token foreigner in the force, it is usually my job to hold my regiment's flag, and present it whenever the command "kiritsu!" is ordered, and retract it when "naode!" is yelled out, meaning that I push and pull the flag up and down quite a few times on these mornings. Today, they let me try simple drills with everyone else, as well as being flag monkey.

The orders are actually quite simple, as are the movements, however they are hard to learn at the same time when order after order is bellowed in quick succession. I observed and mimicked the others, but this was my first time doing these drills. After many mistakes, and asking the instructing officers from the elite Aso/Kuju Fire Department how to correctly perform the drills, it all came together pretty well. I felt humiliated for not knowing the slightest thing about marching drills, but not embarrassed.

Surprisingly, I was not the only one screwing up. You can probably blame it on a nice Saturday morning, and the fact that everyone was forced to give it up to drill over and over again, and many people were obviously hungover. The second in command could not figure out how to run and stop properly when moving from our regimental formation to the inspecting team, and so he was laughed at and drilled many more times than I was. Also, it was interesting to see that the Fire Department does not tolerate the use of strong Higoben (the oldschool Kumamoto accent). The regimental sub-leader summoned a strong "Iiyussha!" and was reprimanded several times after this for continuing to use this corruption of the word "Yosh(i)", meaning "A-OK".

What perplexes me about "Fire Brigade Practice" is that at no point is there any fire or fire drills. This time I didn't even get to watch the other firemen shoot the waterhose because today was devoted to marching and formation drills. I'm not sure what the average resident of Ubuyama feels, but personally I want the firefighters in my area to be trained professionals and wise old hands. That is, I want them to be specifically trained to deal with real life situations involving fire-based problems, and for performing other rescue operations such as but not limited to the use of the fire hose and water pump (remember, fire hydrants and cisterns are not cost effective or particularly useful in the deep country), various fire extinguishers, shovels, picks, rescue axes, fire (in case they need to make a fire line), fire retardants, ladders, ropes, climbing equipment, use of special suits and masks, educating the general public about fire avoidance and mitigation techniques, first aid and CPR, and being able to save cute little fluffy kittens and puppy dogs caught in all sorts of perilous situations. I don't particularly care if they march to the scene in a tight, professional formation in cadence, or if they can snap off a crisp salute. In fact, when that alarm bell rings, I want those guys to drop their instant ramen, quickly and carefully don their equipment, and haul ass over to the problem. I don't want them marching at double time, I want them to drive at three times the speed limit, obliterating any inanimate objects that dare to be in the path of the fire engine!

However, I am not complaining about the Fire Brigade. I am merely baffled and find myself asking many questions. Why don't they devote at least as much time to practice putting out fires as they do marching? Why do they want me on the squad just to hold the flag? Why do they want to award me with a Fire Cheif commemorative patch when I leave Ubuyama? Why are they going to take me to Okinawa for the second time in one year later this month? No, I am not complaining.

Wait, what? The Fire Brigade is paying for me to go to Okinawa again? That's right! On the last trip after hearing that diving was one of my hobbies, everyone decided to try it and they all immensely enjoyed themselves. And so this time, we're diving off of a boat close to one of Okinawa's smaller islands!

So what does a token gaijin learn when he is in the service of the Fire Brigade in the cho inaka? He learns how to march, he learns how to present the flag, but most of all, he learns about the best omiyage to buy from the other firemen on his trips to Okinawa.

This picture is how I have been feeling for the past two weeks. The weather has been improving and the buds on the sakura trees are about to bust open, but I am in a cloudy mood. There are beams of light piercing through the ominous layers, but they are in the background and overwhelmed at the moment. This week I have gone to too many graduations in Ubuyama. Monday was Ubuyama Chugakko, Wednesday was Yamaga Shogakko, and today was Ubuyama Hoikuen and Nambu Hoikuen.

To me Japanese graduations are about three things: tears, bows, and boring speeches (there are good speeches too, but these usually fall under the "tears" category). I stopped counting how many times I bowed, but 100 for this week seems like a good guess. Sometimes when I'm not thinking I look at the person's face to whom I am bowing, a vestigal habit from taking Tae Kwon Do when I was 5 (my Sensei explained that one should NEVER take their eyes off of their opponent at ANY time. now that man was truly a badass!) and sometimes I do the proper deep immersion eyes-cast-to-the-toes bow. I wish that they would just adopt the handshake to replace bowing at these events. It just seems silly to have each person giving a speech bow a minimum of 6 times, especially when others must also bow unless, of course, the flag is being bowed down to.It has been an ordeal, having to listen to the same speeches over and over by the same old men, and sit quietly watching and empathizing with the children who are trying their best not to fidget. I have used much of this time to meditate, leaving my body and mind on auto-bow mode.

As for the crying, I am just not used to seeing so many people- students, teachers, parents, and spectators both male and female- cry with such intensity and with no shame at expressing these feelings. I think its cool how they are so open to everyone on this special occasion, but I can't relate. Sure, graduations are sad but I was always overjoyed to be freed of the classes and homework with prospects of a summer spent at the beach in the immediate future. I have to admit, I got a little misty and had a couple of lumps in my throat as I heard the little girls trying to give speaches on how greatful they were to the teachers who they were leaving behind. I suppose this was a very gratifying experience for everyone, in a sad sort of way.

Almost all of my favorite teachers are leaving from Ubuyama in one fell swoop. One is going on pregnancy leave, one is moving to Saga-ken, and the rest have been transferred to different schools. I feel like I am being forced to repeat my senior year of high school, as all of my friends are going off to different colleges, but I am happy for the ones that didn't get shafted by the switch and sorry for the ones who did.

Also, this week is the last time that I got to chill at the separate hoikuens, with my separate groups of children and teachers. No lessons, just pure 100% playtime with the little ones, and long chats with the nursery school teachers (these teachers are not subject to switching. this is the most stable type of teaching job in Japan if one wants to work in the same place for a long period of time). No one seems especially happy about being joined into one hoikuen for the village, but it makes financial sense for them. Ubuyama hoikuen is to become more of a daycare service- some of the kids are going to be spending 6 out of 7 days there, for up to 12 hours a day! If you have kids, or have taught pre-school and kintergarten, then you know why this will 1. be rough on the teachers, and 2. not be the best situation for the children. But what do I, the token gaijin, know about anything? So I just watch and deal with it.

Some of my favorite children will be moving as well, but as much as I will miss them I am glad because they seem excited about moving (I think I would too). In a way, this is good because saying goodbye in July will be much easier. I'm pleased with my decision to not stay for a 3rd year in this village, as much as I love the children here. Its time to go, and this point continues to be driven home.

But things are looking better already. Perhaps some cool, talented teachers will replace my friends (but I can't imagine that they can fully measure up to these great teachers. it just doesn't seem possible right now). I know that I am going to have a blast in my classes in April, and have some new ideas that I want to try to get the students motivated. For now, its time to pack for a weekend in sunny Miyazaki. Finally I get to enjoy this great weather at the beach and forget about this week.

The Japanese educational system is so frusterating sometimes. It seems that the head honchos on one side and the grunts on the other are working with very different agendas, completely seperated while working on the very same projects. They call the shots based on inferences, deductions, hypothesis, research, and other forms of information processing yet keep themselves pretty well insulated from the body of the operation.

You would think that they (the kencho, the kyoikuinkai, and the other people who call the shots) would want to get to know what the grunts on the frontline think of the decisions, kind of like an engineer physically examining the physical incarnation of their sketches and talking to the test pilots who come to know the capabilities of their aircraft based on intimate knowledge as well as study of the designs. It may be the engineer who designs the plane, but it's really the asses of the pilots and planes that are on the line should anything go wrong. You would think that these people would know how valuable direct input from the teachers, who know their classes and the materials and their plans better than anyone else, really is because these same people were probably also teachers before they got appointed to their lofty positions. With great powers come great responsibility, you would think...

See, that's where you're wrong. They don't seem to care what you think. Independent thinking and any form of dissent is discouraged among the same peer groups and especially from those belonging to the lower castes, even if it may be painfully clear that a change would be greatly beneficial. The nerves may scream out in pain from being cut and rubbed in salt and lime juice, but the synapses are being jammed, the attention is directed elsewhere.

To be fair, sometimes they get things right. Sometimes they implement good, well thought out policies that work really well. Sometimes. But wouldn't it be better if they could do it faster, more efficiently, and more democratically? Keeping things the same may be orderly and produce consistent results, but how many of us would prefer a perfect McClone cheeseburger over a Fatburger (they taste a bit different at the different locations and depending on who is making them, especially when you order them with more toppings and condiments)?

The words above could be in used a myriad of contexts, by many people that you know, and probably by you too. I just wonder if any of the people who are in positions of greater power and responsibility used to feel this way, and if they still do. Have there been any significant changes recently in the infrastructure of the Japanese educational system, and will it eventually change for the better any time in the foreseeable future? I truly hope so, but I have my doubts.

Taken at Ubuyama Bokujo. What you can't see (to the bottom right, beyond the frame) is a big treaded set of tracks that told of multiple snow donuts on the tractor.

Snow.

Yuuto kun atop a mini-mountain of snow.

Tried boarding down here, but it wasn't steep enough.

Are you under the impression that Kyushu is a warm place. Come to Ubuyama, my friend...

I used all of my faucets this just this morning. Despite this, every one of them has frozen. There is a 4 inch stalagtite hanging from my Kitchen faucet, a 3 inch stalagmite in my bathroom sink, and my bath faucet is frozen solid. Thankfully, my toilet works, and so does my shower! Hahaha! Finally some luck! Who cares that the water in the bowls and frying pan have turned completely to ice? Not me- dishes can wait indefinetely (as proven in college), but I can not live without a shower or a toilet. I recall having to boil water last year when my shower froze- remembering such experiences puts it all in perspective.

Snow is dumping down on my village right now, and the roads have been covered in a blanket of snow three inches thick. Thank goodness that I am driving the Yakuba's Nissan Wingroad with AWD and snowtires, or else I would have to break out the chains (although it sucks driving a car with no stereo!).

Between the residual snow from the blizzard from two days ago, and the resulting layer from today, everything is covered in pure white coldness. If you added a couple of AT-ATs and tauntauns, then I would indeed be living on Hoth!

If it keeps on snowing hard for a couple of days, then I will once again look for a prime spot to go snowboarding in Ubuyama, like the Bokujo or one of the logging roads (didn't quite have enough snow last year).

Yep, so I think I shall stay inside and sip on some hot tea, hibernating (or more accurately, estivating) under the kotatsu table and slowly working through the DVDs that I bought in Shanghai. It is also about time to break out with the Nabe-fu and see how my Japanese culinary skills have advanced. Still much to learn, grasshopper...

An earthquake just hit me right now. It was small and only rattled the house for about 10 seconds, and if I was asleep I would have never known.

I will take it as a good omen (hahaha, we shall see!). Less than 2 days until I leave Japan... California, warm weather, and possibly more earthquakes- here I come!

Yesterday I went to visit the windmill at Ubuyama Bokujo (Farm) after work. The windmill stands alone, humming and whining in the wind, and becons people from all over Japan to drive up our country roads into my slice of BFE. When I tell people that I live in Ubuyama, I am always surprised to find how many people know of my village of less than 2000 people. They always either say "Ah, Ubuyama, the place with the windmill, right?" or "Ubuyama has very delicious water" and talk about how cool Kurokawa's onsens are (they really are the best I have ever been to). The windmill produces enough electricity to run the farm and is saving a lot on the energy bills, and I was curious whether more would be installed to power the rest of the village. No, they're just keeping the 1. Why? 1 is aesthetically pleasing. More than 1 constitutes an eyesore. Its too bad, I think. Our woods are all uniform trees of the same species, shape and heigth, the result of farming trees instead of managing an ecosystem, and I don't think that adding windmills to a couple of mountain peaks would have much of a derogatory impact on the view (ah sh*t, reverting to Envirotalk... quick! someone fire up the charcoal grill and Q me up a big cheap steak cut from rainforest cattle, served on a virgin white dioxin infused paper plate).

I was screwing around with my camera, and for about ten seconds, it reverted to a normal keitai camera. After I captured a beautiful sunset (over the Haunted Hotel), it switched back to "magic mode". Justin was right. My D251 is a MAGIC keitai camera.

The magic moment.

Ubuyama Windmill.

Taken seconds after the first pic.

I just wrote this for my village's newspaper. It will be interested to see what people think of it when I come back from Christmas break.

Americans are generally very impressed at the Japanese traditional arts and their complex sense of aesthetics (or they pretend to be in order to appear "cultured"). Many people marvel at how a simple tree can be transformed into a graceful, highly stylized caricature through tireless pruning, shaping, and nurturing. Ah, the bonsai tree lives a tragic life. It?s branches are endlessly broken and set, cut off and cast aside, and it?s roots are confined by a small vessel to keep it stunted as long as it lives. Can you imagine if someone constantly broke your arms and legs, or kept you in a small box (because they thought that it made you look beautiful) in order to make you look different from what you naturally should become? I think that bonsai is a beautiful form of art, and I have nothing against the practice. But what if trees can feel pain, and can suffer (which I don?t believe, after all trees and humans are completely different)? I think that they might choose death as a Christmas trees instead of life as a bonsai.
In America, the average family celebrates Christmas (Chaunakkah and Kwanzaa are for a whole different article). The tree is the most important symbol of Christmas because everyone has one in their house, and more importantly it serves as shelter for the presents. The tree is what everyone sits around on Christmas morning to open their gifts. The tree is where all of the torn wrapping paper, opened boxes, and Christmas cards sit waiting to be cleaned up. The scent of pine always reminds me of Christmas.
Usually, families go to pick out a Christmas tree from a Christmas tree farm or vendor. The characteristics of the Christmas trees are given much consideration, for example: is it the right height? Does it look good from every angle? Is it big (small) enough to fit all of the presents, or to make it look like there are a lot of presents, underneath? Is it too dry? Is it too expensive? Is it the right species of tree? Is that guy about to buy the Christmas tree that I want? These are just a few of the thoughts that we consider before making a decision. Once the decision is made, the defenseless tree is sawed down and carried home on top of the car (another good scenario to anthropomorphisize and ponder).
Inside the house, the tree is carefully groomed, placed in a stand with plenty of water, and then it is decorated. It can take up to a day to fully decorate a regular tree, in order to get it looking just right. Lights, ornaments, and streamers are hung with great care, and are constantly adjusted to make it look good from all angles (like ikebana). I feel a great sense of relief and satisfaction when we finish with the tree (or any other pain-in-the-ass activity).
So why do I think that trees would prefer to be Christmas trees instead of Bonsai? The Christmas tree dies quickly, so although its life is shorter its death is also less painful. The bonsai tree often lives a long life full of being cut, cracked, and deformed, while the Christmas tree is cut just once (and slowly dies of thirst). If you feel sad for the trees, then my suggestion is to buy a fake Christmas tree or bonsai. I don?t feel sad for the tree (because it is a tree!), but I still say ?thanks? to it for being an important part of my Christmas. Merry Christmas everyone, and have a happy New Year!

Yoroku? Nashi! Musuko wakakata? Nashi! Yabakatta? So, Amerika! (American coffee the bandits explain, is ridiculously weak. Like a stolen piece of junk, it does not do anything for one).

Aitsu jibun o nani-sama da to omotte yagarun da? Taka ga eda hagi da ze. (Who the fuck does he think he is? He's nothing more than a two bit panty theif!) Japanese complements of Peter Constantine

Today, I arrived at Hokubu Hoikuen (the Northern-Ubuyama pre-school), at 10:00, just as Nakano sensei discovered evidence of a breaking and entering. Someone had let themself in through the restroom window, leaving muddy footprints all over. All of the desk drawers were riffled through, but nothing was taken. The police were called and arrived at 11:00. They used an array of lights and dust to search for finger prints, and took an hour and a half to do a complete sweep. It would seem to be the same burglar who, last week on Monday, broke into Hokubu Sho (Northern-Ubuyama Elementary) and stole the kyoto-sensei's laptop and Fukuda sensei's digicam.
The search yeilded no leads.

The CSI dude on the right with nifty light, supervised by the Ichinomiya Police Seargeant. These dudes were total dicks when I tried to talk to them, but became friendly when the teachers told them I was a Nikkei Yonsei (4th gen. American).

Point of entry.

Inside close-up. The glass was punched out precisely next to the lock. This window is made of an opaque glass and thinner than the other windows.

Outside close-up. Obviously the theif used tools to open the window, as a finger could not safely pass through the hole. Like a monkey using a twig to snag ant larvae.

Footprint (next to my foot) outside the window. The robber has feet smaller than mine. Luckily for him, it was raining last night, and so any other footprints were washed away.

It is a sad thing, when robbers try to rob nursery schools. What was the guy thinking? Hmmmm... That place must hold gallons of milk and a fortune's worth of cookies, not to mention the juice and crayons! And just think of all the toys... After this heist, its straight up naptime. Jackpot!

About half a year ago, someone stole some shirts out of the Superintendent's car, so it seems that petty theft is becoming more prevalent in our small village. All I know is that I have a big, sharp cleaver a few feet from my bed. On a separate note, I have no problem in implementing my version of Hammurabi's code on anyone foolish enough to try and break into my house.

The whiteboard is over-rated. Back in the day, we learned on chalkboards, and we liked it. Chalk has many more merits than the erasable marker. First of all, chalk (AKA CaCO3 as the nerds like to say) is environmentally benign and there is no shortage of it. Also, sniffing chalk will not give you a buzz (trust me, Chris Dempsey has tried this)- it will only give you milky looking snot and make you sneeze . Also, there is nothing in the classroom that lends itself to harmless fun as a fully loaded blackboard eraser. In addition, chalk can be used to write graffiti anywhere there are bricks or concrete, which is pretty much everywhere in a regular school, and if you get caught taggin' they oftentimes don't care since its isn't permanent. Lastly, the blackboard was a rare, useful, effective instrument, efficient in its every use. When a teacher was pissed off, and could take no more noise from a crazed class- thats when she formed her right hand into a claw, bringing her talons of wrath chinking down and then screaching across the murky blackish green void.

Anyhow, I now teach mostly using blackboards now that I am in Japan. Last week I drew this portrait of this student, and I think it came out rather well. I am yet to use my fingernails to get attention, but now that I remembered it I am bound to use this dreaded technique in the future (you think your Wu-Tang Style can defeat me!?!).

Those bastards! They killed Kenny!
No they didn't but they did open my mail and made it really obvious. The top of the envelope was roughly ripped open, stuffed into a plastic bag containing a note that said basically "uh, we opened your letter"- duh! I couldn't tell this from the disgustingly violated state in which it was received. And all it contained were a letter and some pics.
I understand that the post office has concerns about delivering drugs, explosives, chemical, and biological weapons, but I still don't like the way they opened my letter. They could have steamed it open and I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference, or they could've used a letter opener, but no- some guy used his hooked index finger to eviscerate my letter! I hope you got a bad papercut, and that it gets infected with gas gangrene, forcing you to use a letter opener like a civilized sneak in the future!

On a different note, I scared my students into using English today. My 2nd year JHS students refuse to verbally answer questions in class, so I forced them to change their ways. I explained that we were going to debate why I should or shouldn't give them more homework, everyone against me and Mr. Sato. This worked much better than I anticipated, and almost everyone came up with a counter-point to every point I could think up. They also displayed their potential for creative and critical thinking, which I have rarely encountered at school. The points that they brought up were actually very good, and they questioned the validity of some of my points! The debate went up until the last minute, and I had them scared, because we were tied. I argued the last point for their team, and they enjoyed a victory. If you make the stakes higher, they will step their game up a notch!
Also I believe this worked by putting things into perspective. It is a bit embarassing when you first start to speak in front of any group of people, but being assigned more mind-dulling work is a worse fate. I think this approach has many applications for others as well. For example, if you drop a group of rich self-centered Newport Beach kids into the heart of South Central at nighttime, they will work together and solve problems instead of throwing a fit and demanding that they deserve a new BMW instead of the old Mercedes that was handed down to them. If you stick a middle-class obese systems administrator in Guatemala, eating too much food will not be a problem anymore, nor will not having the time to exercise as they slave in the banana plantations to earn enough food to keep them alive for the day. The opportunities are endless, and at the end of the day you have real solid results.

There is an old abandoned uncompleted golf resort in my town, located right next to another swank expensive resort. This place used to be special to me, when me and Harvey were the only ones who knew of its existance.

The first time I visited the hotel was in late September of 2002. Harvey had told me that the resort was an idea conceived during the peak of the bubble economy. A local entrepreneur pitched the project, including the creation of a full golf course and luxury hotel, to his fellow villagers. They all chipped in a fixed portion of their income and watched their guarenteed cash cow coming closer to completion with every passing day. The hotel was almost complete, and the earth moving equipment had pushed around the earth to accomodate a world-class golf course- there was every indication that from this point on, the cash would come a flowin, and everyone would be rollin in brand new luxury cars, soaking in champagne filled furos, etc... And then the bubble burst! The major capital that had been seeing the project through was suddenly cut off. Only a little more money had to be raised, but this proved impossible. No one had any money to invest, and if they did, they were very reluctant to do anything other than stash it away.
The project failed and the entrepreneur felt a heavy burden. He must have felt like the spectre in "The Rime of the Aincent Mariner" carrying a decaying albatross around his neck. There was only one way to lessen the dishonor that he had brought to his family and ancestors. And so he committed seppuku (so I was told). For those of you unfamiliar with this ceremony, it involves thrusting a knife into your stomach and slicing across from one side to the other. The longer cut you make, the more shame is erased. Pain through purification.
Anyhow, I made my first trip to this place alone close to dusk. I walked around, acutely aware of the total silence, broken occasionally by the buzzing of flies and the scurrying of frightened animals. The place was straight out of a Steven King novel, and I spent an hour exploring the three levels of floors and the clutter packed basement. I remember finding a balcony where I got reception, and calling Justin. It was a truly creepy experience, and he was shocked that I had gone in by myself. The more I described the eerie deja vu vibe mixed with the feeling of being watched, the less I wanted to stay in the hotel. I hung up, and tried to find my way out. The fading light of the late afternoon, filtered through the prisms of broken windows, through the stirred up dust, making richly hued beams of gold. Dusk would come soon.
I stepped up the pace and retraced my steps, or tried to. I had explored so many places that I had forgotten where I had started. The hallway that had come from the lobby spit me out at another hallway. The stairway that led to back to another exit took me to where I had just been. This was really creepy. I had a strong urge to run away, to get out as fast as possible, but I fought this. Ah, there it was, the unmistakable rotten mattress that led to the stairs ascending to the lobby. I dashed forward into the darkness and disturbed a couple of bats who flew almost directly into my face! That way was not going to work. Finally I worked out my orientation and got out of the hotel. Walking down the eroded road to my car, I had the feeling I was being watched from one of the many darkened windows (like Scooby Doo and the gang in any given adventure).
Over the course of time, I have taken many friends to share in the experience. They often are scared or at least unsettled, at the spooky environment. Soon, word got around and now everyone knows of this place. About six months ago I took a bunch of friends on a weekend and we ran into another group that had come to check it out. So the place has lost its charm. Its still a pretty fun place to go once in a long while. My friends like to go and kick down locked doors (there are no more of those now...), break glass, and smash anything that they can. However, visiting the site is done for a whole new reason than when I started.
What was mine has become everyones'. People always feel the need assert their braveness, to illustrate the size of their testicles. "That place isn't so bad", "The only thing I'm concerned about is the bats", "I was expecting it to be scarrier", etc... These people have also never gone in by themselves, and even if they had, they're not going to have the same surreal experience that I had. They can't. On my first visit, the place was unexplored by gaijin- a virgin chunk of wonder. Now, it is merely another curious place to visit in Aso.

I do know of other crazy abandoned places near my pad, but I think I will keep their locations to myself. One of them is the ruins of a partially burnt down love hotel. Again, I visited this place alone, and had a similar experience. Inside the pitch black rooms is old furniture and dusty relics from a time not too long ago. The beds are still made in some of the rooms, and there is a strange object that looks like a cross between massage and torture equipment (you can bet it was used to facilitate doing "the nasty" in various locations). I have not been back, and plan on keeping it that way, preserving the memory for only myself. It's mine!!!

Anyhow, the Aso JETs want to have a halloween party at the hotel (thats right, its gotten that well known). I had thought about doing so when I first visited, but its a really bad idea. If they do have it there, I predict disaster in some form.

Still trying to figure out how to make an "o" with a straight accent line over it (indicating a long o sound). The addition of a "u" to the end of the "o" will just have to make do for now.

My kids at Hokubu Shogakko made this at the end of winter, when the snow was melting, and it was a blistering 7 degrees C during the day. It felt warmer inside of this dome than my house (and this is not hyperbole, unfortunately). Thank god for summer! Right now its nice and cool up here and everyone else is stuck sweating it out all over most of Japan. Gotta learn to cherish the moments. Then again, there are no bugs during the winter months, and none of that insidious mold!

This picture was made by a former hoikuen student named Tatsuyoshi. Notice the badass romaji. and the badass fro on the hungry dude. Ta-kun knows whats up!

Summer break is officially over and classes resume today, so it is back to the same routine. The teachers forgot to tell me to come to the opening ceremony, and as I heard everyone singing the official Ubuyama Chugakko song, I was happy to be left out so that I could read about the discovery of a new order of insect in National Geographic (much more interesting than listening to meaningless speeches). Being invisible has its advantages after all!