Saturday, August 2, 2014
Learning Australian in Japanese
What poor Tai-chan has to do for "English" homework. I'm afraid I'm not a great "Dad Homework Helper" as I'm too busy commenting on how moronic the book is.
Tai-chan's First Paid Job
He gets ¥1,000 per finished board. That's about ten bucks each. So far he's done 16 . . .
Friday, August 1, 2014
A Visit to the Calligraphy Shop
This has become somewhat of an annual pilgrimage. The owner recognized me immediately and even remarked upon how tall Tai-chan had grown.
I know I've filmed this place before, but here's the Director's Cut (with outtakes). We ended up getting ten calligraphy boards and I'm hoping Tai-chan will do them this weekend.
(NOTE: Please watch the following video on the YouTube page (click on the little YouTube logo on the bottom right corner), make it full screen, then click the little cog to make it 1080p (HD) and MAKE SURE TO CLICK THE "CC" BUTTON in order to get my subtitles. Sorry for the typos -- I don't know how to edit them now that they're up there!)
I know I've filmed this place before, but here's the Director's Cut (with outtakes). We ended up getting ten calligraphy boards and I'm hoping Tai-chan will do them this weekend.
(NOTE: Please watch the following video on the YouTube page (click on the little YouTube logo on the bottom right corner), make it full screen, then click the little cog to make it 1080p (HD) and MAKE SURE TO CLICK THE "CC" BUTTON in order to get my subtitles. Sorry for the typos -- I don't know how to edit them now that they're up there!)
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Travellers' Warning From a Pro
When you really think about it, travelling, especially long distances to places like Japan, it's an extremely risky business, and you really have to be insanely well-organized; not just 99% of the time, but 110% of the time.
Just imagine my quandary when I was in Amsterdam once and I somehow missed my once-daily flight to Montreal. Well, no problem, thought I; I'll just go stay at the airport Hilton.
Imagine my horror upon discovering that I couldn't find my credit card. Anywhere. And I didn't know exactly where I had lost it. Maybe I'd been at some airport bar, paid for my drink and left it on the bar. Who knows.
No problem, I said again: I have all the data on my computer. I'll just give them the number and the expiry and I'll be on my way.
No dice. No amount of cajoling, begging, pleading or ANYTHING would change their minds.
I was doomed.
I spent the whole day and the entire night marooned in Schiphol's terminal; I'd no sooner find an ideal place to hang out when I'd go to the bathroom and find someone there when I got back.
It was a fucking nightmare.
The next morning, when I finally was able to try to check in for my flight, I was told there was a change fee of $200. Again, I went through the same thing; I only had about $110 in cash on me.
I think what finally made the guy give me mercy was my pointing out that if I couldn't board my flight to Montreal, I would be stuck in eternal limbo, with no credit card and no way to pay him.
Please imagine this scenario for a long, hard second. All for want of a small plastic card that, on any given trip comes in and out of your pocket (I always keep it in my back trouser pocket) dozens of times. And you are continually being distracted. Oh, they just changed my gate. Hmm, shall I go buy a magazine? What time is boarding?
10,000 chances to overlook that little rectangle of plastic. And the consequences of that little slip: devastating. Life-threatening, even.
Now, let's ramp it up: how many times do you have to take your passport out of your carefully placed wallet? Get to the airport, take it out to check in. Keep it out to maybe go through Immigration. Put it in a plastic tray for security. Keep it handy for boarding the plane.
Then, passport tightly gripped in one hand, you board the plane -- this is the most vulnerable time. Putting it back in its proper place in your wallet is too much hassle, so you put it in the inside pocket of your coat and promptly forget about it.
You take off your coat after takeoff to relax and fold it over your lap. Did I say the lining of your coat was fake silk? Almost like graphene, the slipperiest substance ever discovered, when it comes to your passport.
Pasport neatly falls out of pocket while you twist in your agonizingly contorted economy seat; voila, you put your coat on before landing, leave the plane and your passport is never to be seen again. What, they're somehow going to chase you down after you've switched terminals and are now a mile away from the scene? By the time you discover it's gone, it's bye-bye, Baby.
These are two small items that are so vital to your entire trip that the loss of either is going to send you into a complete, roller coaster nightmare Yet they're also the two most frequent items you have to take out and put back, take out and put back.
After an exhausting marathon 30-hour trip, you lose concentration. I lost concentration once, came home from Japan, then, one week after I had arrived home, finally went looking for my iBook -- a $2,000 laptop with mountains of personal information on it.
Gone. I had not used it, to my recollection, since being in Vancouver. I had visited maybe three different restaurants or bars during that time. I had napped with my laptop bag by my side near my gate. Hell, maybe I had taken the damn thing out and stowed it in my seat pocket in front of me. Did someone casually slide t out of my bag? Did I leave it on some restaurant table? Plugged in to a wall socket half a block away from my seat to recharge it? I will never know.
This morning I wanted to go to the convenience store to get coffee. I looked for my sunglasses -- $300 prescription sunglasses They were not in their case in my bag, where I ALWAYS put them. Then I looked around for my watch. No watch.
THANK GOD I had, in yesterday's exhaustion, just flopped down on the bed after our outing and had taken of my watch and sunglasses and put them on the nightstand behind the lamp next to my bed.
Just typing all this out makes my blood run cold; just ONE SINGLE MOMENT of inattention and my life could be turned upside down.
I have now developed a finely-honed system, where everything has its place, and before I leave any location, I check that everything is IN ITS PLACE. I cannot let down my guard or be sloppy at ANY TIME.
I broke that routine by NOT putting my sunglasses back in their case in my flight bag yesterday; today, I could now be crying into my beer.
Listen up, people, because it could happen to you: when travelling, develop an iron-clad system of where everything is. Always make sure everything is ALWAYS in its place, even if it's a hassle (putting glasses into coat top pocket instead of glasses case in carryon bag) and most important of all, guard that credit card WITH YOUR GODDAMNED LIFE. Wake yourself up at 2 a.m. to go check and make sure it's where it's supposed to be if you have any worries.
Now, I hope by writing this I have not cast an evil spell on myself . . . I had better stop while I'm well ahead.
Bike Shopping
We hopped the train to Shin-Ōmiya to buy a bicycle for Tai-chan. It's only one stop away, but stepping outside at noon was like stepping into a pizza oven. It was at least 35°C, no matter what the actual weather data say, and we sweltered as we made our way to the Aeon Bike shop -- an entity I had no idea existed escaped for the brilliant advice from someone at Mellow Café. (More about that place later.)
So . . . we picked out a bike that he liked -- total price, $538, including all accoutrements, extra insurance, blah blah blah, and it's a killer. I guess it better be, at that price . . . but after all, it's his 13th birthday plus Christmas and I'd rather he had this than a computer game.
His mother happily destroyed his PS3 during a shouting match by throwing it against a wall -- besides, I'd prefer him riding around on a bike than playing Grand Theft Auto.
We also bought him an amp for his guitar, but I'll go into that tomorrow . . . it's a typical Japan Fail story.
So here are the pics and the movie . . .
So . . . we picked out a bike that he liked -- total price, $538, including all accoutrements, extra insurance, blah blah blah, and it's a killer. I guess it better be, at that price . . . but after all, it's his 13th birthday plus Christmas and I'd rather he had this than a computer game.
His mother happily destroyed his PS3 during a shouting match by throwing it against a wall -- besides, I'd prefer him riding around on a bike than playing Grand Theft Auto.
We also bought him an amp for his guitar, but I'll go into that tomorrow . . . it's a typical Japan Fail story.
So here are the pics and the movie . . .
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| Nick tries Tai-chan's bike (not to fall off it) |
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| The Beast |
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
A Day in The Life, Nara-Style
Y esterday was a slowwwww day. Neither of us was ready to get up by 11 a.m. -- I don't know why, because these beds are like concrete blocks, plus it's just too cool enough to be annoying but not cool enough to put one of these massive quilts on us. There ARE no other choices.
So it was the same thing this morning, but today the uncomfortableness woke me up at six. Tai-chan could sleep through a tsunami, poor kid. He was up all night playing on his iPad Mini. I can see why his relatives want to take it away from him.
But we had a fun day anyway, just hanging out together -- it's so incredibly restful and mind-calming being with him . . . for just these two weeks every year I feel whole.
It's hard to explain; I'd be better able to explain what it's like to feel incomplete, which is how I spend the other 50 weeks of the year. He's grown so much, but he's still the same -- the same amazing sense of humor . . . and out of nowhere, it doesn't matter what we're doing -- I might be typing an email and he might be on the bed playing his game as he's been doing for 20 minutes, nothing said between us . . . and out of the blue he'll just say "I love you, Daddy," as if it had suddenly newly occurred to him.
He used to do that when he was very, very little -- those were almost the first words he learned -- and whenever he saw that I was getting in the slightest bit upset, or was brooding, or impatient, he'd hold my hand, look up at me and say "I love you, Daddy."
I asked him if his mother ever says she loves him. "No, she doesn't," he said, in a flinty voice laden with finality. "Does she ever hug you? Does anyone ever hug you or kiss you or say they love you?" I asked him, and he said, almost dismissively, "No, Daddy," as if I were asking the dumbest question in the world.
Which, of course, it is. One of my students who shall remain nameless (you know who you are) is one of my longest-lasting . . . he's told me more than once -- many times, in fact, that I'm an expert at ragging on the Japanese -- their society, their behaviour, their two-facedness, their sheer expertly-honed ability to lie and smile at the same time . . . he told me it was discouraging him from wanting to go to Japan.
It''s true. I do rag on the Japanese, simply because I know them SO WELL. I remember once, a LONG time ago, getting some sort of feeling that, yes, I could do it -- I could learn the language and the customs so well that I'd be accepted almost as one of their own in their society.
Now I know that that is one of the most laughable dreams a person could ever have. It's like saying "If I put my mind to it, I can become an astronaut and be sent to Mars." Actually, come to think of it, there are more chances of THAT happening -- maybe 100 times more chances of it happening, than to ever be accepted into the Japanese fold.
That's why I sometimes view them as a nest of vipers . . . I know that's harsh, but a nest of vipers won't do anything to you at all unless you somehow rile them. In fact, they'll pay no attention to you at all.
And that's the way things are here . . . they are individually some of the kindest and most obliging human beings ever put on this planet . . . but so are members of the Guarani tribe who live in Matto Grosso, the largest swamp in the Amazon rainforest.
ANYWAY, I doth ramble . . . here's what we did yesterday, in pictures . . .
Tai-chan, hard at work on his warbirds game. Look how gangly he's gotten . . .
At the family restaurant, Gusto, in a familiar bemused pose. Tai-chan is getting better at taking pictures
Tai-chan picking out a snack at the Lawson's on our street. It's like a 7-11
The manga selection at the convenience store. AT THE CONVENIENCE STORE.
A typical scene. Three men leafing through the mangas. It's always men, always about 30 years old. I took this photo at 7 a.m. this morning. The guy in the back was definitely NOT amused when I tried to explain that I was taking photos for my friends back home who love mangas. A cold, icy stare was what I got. It's my guess that he was NOT reading a Japanese version of Archie and Jughead.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Riding Into Town; Tai-chan at Last!
Arrived yesterday from the airport and finally got to see Tai-chan after close-on one year.
The room at the hotel is almost a clone of the one we had last year. This is good. Tai-chan has grown . . . all gangly and awkward, like a typical young teenager That will change on August 7, when he becomes 13.
His English, while not perfect, hasn't really gotten a lot worse. And he understands at least 99% of what *I* say -- that's pretty important.
So here I am, pulling into Nara . . .
And here we are at dinner, at an Indian place run by Nepalese who only speak Japanese. Won't be going back there because they don't take credit cards . . .
The room at the hotel is almost a clone of the one we had last year. This is good. Tai-chan has grown . . . all gangly and awkward, like a typical young teenager That will change on August 7, when he becomes 13.
His English, while not perfect, hasn't really gotten a lot worse. And he understands at least 99% of what *I* say -- that's pretty important.
So here I am, pulling into Nara . . .
And here we are at dinner, at an Indian place run by Nepalese who only speak Japanese. Won't be going back there because they don't take credit cards . . .
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Washington Hotel Kansai Airport
Not a bad place overall. I'd recommend it, even though my one night was ¥7,900 (maybe $80 or so).
This is high compared to my next hotel, the Fujita, in Nara, which will average about $65/day for two weeks. Compared to Montreal, that is a steal, and it's a perfectly good hotel, Best-Western-style speaking.
Here's the "view" from my room; then there is the deafening racket of the cicadas (called "semi" "セミ" here). I love those little guys.
This is high compared to my next hotel, the Fujita, in Nara, which will average about $65/day for two weeks. Compared to Montreal, that is a steal, and it's a perfectly good hotel, Best-Western-style speaking.
Here's the "view" from my room; then there is the deafening racket of the cicadas (called "semi" "セミ" here). I love those little guys.
Sunday, July 27
Here I am at the airport hotel. It's 8:30 a.m. or so and I have to be out of here in a few minutes.
Slept like several dogs and thank god, don't have a hangover. Which is good, since I hardly drank anything yesterday.
Those sly bastards did not leave a yukata in the room like they always do because they knew I'd be stealing it. Slimeballs! Oh well, I'll get them at the hotel in Nara.
It's a stinking 33°C out there and I can hear the drone of the cicadas. I love those beasts -- I miss them in Montreal, even though there are a few. Here, there are a few billion.
Slept like several dogs and thank god, don't have a hangover. Which is good, since I hardly drank anything yesterday.
Those sly bastards did not leave a yukata in the room like they always do because they knew I'd be stealing it. Slimeballs! Oh well, I'll get them at the hotel in Nara.
It's a stinking 33°C out there and I can hear the drone of the cicadas. I love those beasts -- I miss them in Montreal, even though there are a few. Here, there are a few billion.
The Japanese Should Get Busted on RICO
I really think it should be deemed a criminal act for an Asian restaurant -- one in the unappetizing milieu of a busy international airport -- so far from an Italian that may as well consider themselves as cratered lunar blue cheese -- to not only take pasta dishes but to elevate them to the sublime.
Put it this way -- a Japanese "Italian restaurant" owner is not going to cater to anyone's tastes, especuially those of the Japanese, who like their food so bland the Bobby Blue, a picky eater, gave himself a third name in honor of Japan's true efforts to be the purveyor's of the blandest food on a the planet.
A Japanese person invented, then perfected, then fossilized hospital food for all mankind. Tht's the manking Neil Armstrong was busy flubbing his landing on the moon statement about.
But dame=ned if some evil little hole in the wall delivered to me, a hungry traveler for pasta -- ANY pasta, a magnificent dish of bacon peperoncini with a glass of genuine dry Italian rosé wine on the side this evening.
I'm going to ferret that place out again and bring Tai-chan here for dinner one day. We'll play plane spotting all day and then cap it all off with a cool Italian dish at that place -- lucky for me, I made off with their receipt holder by accident so I have their name.
I promise it shall be so.
And not a comment nor a visit from all of my loyal students. Hey! Yo! You gon' be here one day! Pay attention cause we're gonna have a test!! Maybe a taste, too!
It's Gonna Be a Great Trip!
White, Suspicious and Ugly
Friday, July 25, 2014
The Voyage So Far . . .
I'm stymied by extremely slow Internet speeds wherever I am, Montreal, or Toronto. Thank God, it's all free.
And THANK GOD I DIDN'T HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE UNITED HATES.
I took a two-hour nap last night while Brigitte slaved away . . . doing what Brigitte does best: slave away.
But when I have something like this coming up, I snap awake like a sock puppet and I was more than happy to say hello to the world at 3 a.m.
Complicating everything is the fact that Brigitte is single-handedly supposed to redo the back room -- my teaching room -- with a minuscule budget (less than $1200) and all in only two weeks.
If you, my beloved flock of students wish to make a donation to our revamping of your teaching room, you can send funds to my PayPal account -- just press this button:
And THANK GOD I DIDN'T HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE UNITED HATES.
I took a two-hour nap last night while Brigitte slaved away . . . doing what Brigitte does best: slave away.
But when I have something like this coming up, I snap awake like a sock puppet and I was more than happy to say hello to the world at 3 a.m.
Complicating everything is the fact that Brigitte is single-handedly supposed to redo the back room -- my teaching room -- with a minuscule budget (less than $1200) and all in only two weeks.
If you, my beloved flock of students wish to make a donation to our revamping of your teaching room, you can send funds to my PayPal account -- just press this button:
And you will be learning Japanese in the most luxurious training facility in Montreal. This, I can promise!
Yesterday Brigitte and I went to the frame store to get our Chinese paintings done and it's going to cost us upwards of $500. JUST WAIT till you see the on that wall -- and I GUARANTEE that you will all get substantial discounts if you purchase from my friend Jack (just type "Jack Lee" into the search box at the top left of this blog so you can see what he does.)
Meanwhile, I have been redundant. No, relinquent. No, delinquent.
IF I WANT TO MAKE THIS FUCKING FLIGHT I HAVE TO GO NOW
My First Dreamliner
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Tomorrow
First the good news: I will be flying for my very first time on a Boeing Dreamliner (Air Canada) on my Toronto to Haneda leg. I have never been to Haneda, which is the "domestic" airport in Tōkyō (not Narita).
I am not sure why Air Canada would want to fly from Toronto to the domestic terminal in Tōkyō, but that is fine by me.
The bad news is that for about the last two or three hours of that flight, we will be deep in Russian airpspace (see graphic). I really doubt that the Russians have a beef with Canada per se, but it seems to me that things at the Kremlin have not been going so well lately. And we know what "things not going well" means to Russians. It means "Тост! Другой тост наших канадских товарищей по Air Canada Flight 05!" ("A toast! Another toast to our Canadian comrades on Air Canada Flight 05!")
I am not sure why Air Canada would want to fly from Toronto to the domestic terminal in Tōkyō, but that is fine by me.
The bad news is that for about the last two or three hours of that flight, we will be deep in Russian airpspace (see graphic). I really doubt that the Russians have a beef with Canada per se, but it seems to me that things at the Kremlin have not been going so well lately. And we know what "things not going well" means to Russians. It means "Тост! Другой тост наших канадских товарищей по Air Canada Flight 05!" ("A toast! Another toast to our Canadian comrades on Air Canada Flight 05!")
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| Vladimir and me. He can be hilarious, but so can a spitting cobra, if you catch it coming out of a mongoose comedy club |
Not Inspiring Confidence
I am not usually a nervous flyer. But it seems bizarre that with about a decade of accident-free major aviation -- Air France 447 notwithstanding -- behind us, two major accidents involving one of the most modern jets flying today, the 777, in the last 151 days or so, and then two more smaller but no less worrying accidents, one in Taiwan and one in Africa just this morning have occurred.
I think if this had been the case last year, when I was flying China Airlines for the first time, and our 747 sat on the tarmac at JFK in 30-degree heat for about two hours for no apparent reason, fueling my fears, if you will, of a center wing tank explosion such as what brought down TWA Flight 800, then I would be very, very nervous right about now.
However, my route is extremely benign: Montreal to Toronto, then Toronto to Tokyo/Haneda by Air Canada, then Haneda -> Kansai with ANA. Both these airlines have amazingly good recent safety records and we aren't going to be flying over any war zones. However, If I had a globe handy, I would probably see that the Toronto -> Haneda leg overflies Russian territory (can you believe I was about to type "Soviet" territory?)
The only thing that is bothering me about this trip so far is that there is a major heat wave occurring in Japan at the moment.
When you consider that the average Japanese summer could be considered one long heat wave, this is disturbing news.
I guess this might be the summer that I spend most of my time inside the air conditioned hotel room . . . I don't think I will be wandering off on strange journeys, trapped on oven-hot train platforms.
Thank God this will be the third summer in a row that I will be staying in almost exactly the same neighbourhood, so I'll know my way around and the best places to have dinner.
If last time was any indication, many of the same people will be working at those locations and will be welcoming me back like a returning hero.
Plus the fact that as I was leaving last year, they were just opening a convenience store about one minute's walk from my hotel, so there won't be any unnecessary ten minutes of heat blast as I go in search of something cold to drink.
I think if this had been the case last year, when I was flying China Airlines for the first time, and our 747 sat on the tarmac at JFK in 30-degree heat for about two hours for no apparent reason, fueling my fears, if you will, of a center wing tank explosion such as what brought down TWA Flight 800, then I would be very, very nervous right about now.
However, my route is extremely benign: Montreal to Toronto, then Toronto to Tokyo/Haneda by Air Canada, then Haneda -> Kansai with ANA. Both these airlines have amazingly good recent safety records and we aren't going to be flying over any war zones. However, If I had a globe handy, I would probably see that the Toronto -> Haneda leg overflies Russian territory (can you believe I was about to type "Soviet" territory?)
The only thing that is bothering me about this trip so far is that there is a major heat wave occurring in Japan at the moment.
When you consider that the average Japanese summer could be considered one long heat wave, this is disturbing news.
I guess this might be the summer that I spend most of my time inside the air conditioned hotel room . . . I don't think I will be wandering off on strange journeys, trapped on oven-hot train platforms.
Thank God this will be the third summer in a row that I will be staying in almost exactly the same neighbourhood, so I'll know my way around and the best places to have dinner.
If last time was any indication, many of the same people will be working at those locations and will be welcoming me back like a returning hero.
Plus the fact that as I was leaving last year, they were just opening a convenience store about one minute's walk from my hotel, so there won't be any unnecessary ten minutes of heat blast as I go in search of something cold to drink.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
心配？何でやろう
後三日しかない。相変わらず、緊張してます。。。
まあいいか。そろそろモントリオールは遠くて日本の人の考え方になるらおう。
飛行機しかないねん。。。睡眠薬を飲んだらすぐにホテルの中におります。
みんなさんにがんばってな。
全部コピーとペイストをしたらすぐに分かる。
まあいいか。そろそろモントリオールは遠くて日本の人の考え方になるらおう。
飛行機しかないねん。。。睡眠薬を飲んだらすぐにホテルの中におります。
みんなさんにがんばってな。
全部コピーとペイストをしたらすぐに分かる。
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