Number One in the World

American manhole covers are disks of metal designed to cover holes. This is a very functional description and, I think, it captures the essence of how we design our covers from a very functional position. Japanese manhole covers are, in contrast, a form of expression, or advertising. After taking some photos of the manholes in Mino city and putting them on Flickr, I was contacted by the Japanese Manhole Covers group and asked to add my photos into the pool.

While American manhole covers have traditionally been very boring with basic cross-hatching for non-slip qualities; Japanese manholes have been adorned with all sorts of creative designs. The last several years have seen an explosion of art carved covers with elaborate designs. Often these covers show off the regional identity of some town or city. Birds, flowers, tourist attractions, just about anything is fair game.

Well, realizing that with all my travel, I was literally walking right over myriad covers. Being aware that people around the world have interest in the group, I decided to start collecting photos and uploading them to the group pool. I have been taking them from a technical perspective: shooting at a 90 degree angle; taking a photo of every type and variation I see; providing descriptions. This has paid off with me being the number one contributor at this point. Kind of an odd distinction.

From this point on, I think I will reduce my activity level and take pictures only of art carved covers or particularly unique covers. (Although I might try to snap all of the Tsu covers.) Also, I might try catching them with interesting lighting, angles, etc. I snapped a fire water cistern cover in Seki Juku from a low angle with an 18mm lens as a sign.

If you’re interested, please take a look at my collection.

Escaping the Rat Trap

Nezumitori (鼠取り) is a term used in Japan for a speed trap. It literally means rat catching or mouse catching. Usually one policeman will find a place to hide with a radar gun and a vanload of officers will wait a few blocks away. He’ll clock a group of cars and radio ahead. One of the main body will step into the road with a red flag and motion the victims to the awaiting arms of their public protectors.

The other day I turned a corner near my home, drove up and over a bridge, and noticed a man in a police uniform walking toward the roadway. I didn’t give a lot of thought to the speed limit, but rather to the safety issue caused by a man walking out of an alley toward the road. I let off the gas and coasted down. I saw the officer radioing ahead and as I was approaching the forward ranks one of them came into the roadway with his flag. Some of my readers weren’t born yet the last time I got a traffic ticket, so I was a little disappointed. I slowed way down to make it easier on them and I noticed that the guy with the flag wasn’t making a move to stop me.

As I drove by, he immediately stuck the flag out and stepped in front of the cars following me. I breathed a sigh of relief, gave thanks, and moved on. Was I going slower than the cars behind me? Was I given favor for noticing and slowing down? Could they not get a lock on my tiny car? Were they just concerned about tailgating? Were they afraid to talk to the foreigner? Did the policeman recognize me from all my biking around the area, and taking care of the kids? I have no idea but, as I said, I was thankful.

Getting Naked with Yakuza

After Sunday’s funeral we were all feeling emotionally spent. One member of Matsuda-san’s (松田さん) international exchange group had seemed much more worked up than everyone else after Saturday’s ceremony (御通夜). She also came to the funeral (葬式) on Sunday and was really in pain. In a very non-Japanese move, I put my arm on her shoulder and her head collapsed on my shoulder as a river of tears poured out. After the body had been ferried off to the crematorium, she invited me to join her and her husband at some hot springs (温泉); a wonderful way to release some of our stress.

We all chatted in the car on the way to the hot springs. My friend kicked back in the lounge area to ponder our new phase of life without Mr. Matsuda to push us forward. Her husband and I headed for the baths. We went through a process of soaking in hot baths, resting outside on the deck under a blue sky, roasting in saunas, and cooling off in chilled baths. He is a connosieur of hot springs and taught me about a practice of rubbing salt (塩) all over your body. Well, salt is a little abrasive, so we didn’t rub it all over. I was told to apply it liberally and to rub it in. It was a full day, so I’ll have to ask him another time about exactly why we did this. I’m sure it is for some (alleged) health benefit or for smooth skin.

As we sat out on the deck I pondered two things: did anyone in the high-rise apartment next door have a camera; and how wonderful Matsuda san is. Watching the few wispy white clouds waft and twist across the pale sky was a great way to empty my mind and focus on what transpired over the weekend.

Several fellow bathers had the yakuza (やくざ) feeling about them and I wondered about this in the back of my mind. Suddenly, an older man entered the bath, and there was little doubt of his affiliation. Below the neck, above the elbows, and above the knees, everything except his belly was tattooed. The design was predominantly a huge dragon (龍). Where the tattoo came around the hips and over the shoulders the design had a smooth round terminus. This was a unique experience and I wish I had a camera with me. Of course, we don’t normally carry cameras into the bath and I’m not sure a yakuza head would be a willing model.

Most baths have rules posted, stating that tattoos (入墨) are prohibited. I asked my guide about the tattooed man and he said that some spas forbid tattoos (禁止) and some merely request that guests with tattoos refrain from entering (遠慮). Apparently that means something different to each person.

Not Just Any Port in a Storm

Today I was trying to have a conversation with a friend about “crisis of faith”. We wrestled with how to translate it into Japanese and settled on shinjoukiki (信条危機). Crises of faith occur when one has a belief system and something happens which challenges fundamentals of that system. A reasonably logical person is then thrown into a state where they need to reevaluate the basis of their belief.

Before I came to Japan I encountered a crisis (or a series of crises) which caused me great distress. Fortunately, I have seen and experienced things that put my faith beyond question, but the distress caused me to hide from certain faith-based issues. Gradually I have been dealing with things and becoming stronger for it, but recently my attention has been drawn to the untended issues. Amusingly, studying more about other religions has reminded me of what I need to do.

Today’s discussion was interesting because I normally don’t want to revisit the pain of the events that led to my crises. Introspection can be helpful, but dwelling on the negative rarely breeds promising results; however, today was special, I found myself discussing some of the pain but only focussing on the miraculous occurrences which protected me. It was a reminder to remember what I call “anchor points”: undeniably miraculous experiences which - when remembered - anchor me to my faith. Like a ship taking refuge in a bay when a severe storm is passing through. All in all, a great conversation.

Sunday Soundcheck 20

So is the last sound in the ‘S’ column and is represented by そ in hiragana and ソ in katakana.

I talked about sotchoku (そっちょく) on June 19th, but I’ll use it today because it has become an important word in my life. It means ‘frank’, ‘candid’, or ‘direct’. Working on this one aspect of my life has brought me great joy because of the influence it had on one other person. Of course many people who know me may have thought I was too direct as I was. I think the key here is how much love is involved in the message and how receptive the listener is. If someone really doesn’t want to know what is in your heart, then no amount of frank speech is going to earn you much. We write this in kanji as 率直.

Yikes! I thought last week had limited words to choose from. This week is even tougher. Since I’ve been writing more sentimental stuff lately, I’ll just go with sonetto (ソネット), which is just ’sonnet’.

So ends another column of the chart, but we’ll bring the ‘S’ column back for a reprise with a sound change to make it the ‘Z’ row. See you then.

Learning Opportunity

Once again, I am learning at a rapid pace. I will leave for the wake and funeral in less than two hours. I rushed to two stores today and asked a ton of questions about proper clothing and bought a few items. I went to the bank to get money to offer at the service. I searched through my dictionaries for information about the services. Fortunately, last night my girlfriend called to ease my concerns about screwing up at the ceremonies.

Proper clothing for a funeral is a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. The tie can have a pattern, but it should be black on black. If one can’t wear a black suit, then a dark color is acceptable. Gray is preferrable to brown. If a black jacket is not worn, then a black arm band is recommended.

Tonight’s ceremony appears as ‘wake’ in the dictionary, and is called otsuya (御通夜) in Japanese. There are many alternate, but similar names; although, this one seems the most common. Some ceremonies are an all-night vigil with the deceased before sending their body to be cremated. I was not told if this is all-night or part of the night. It is customary to bring an offering, called kouden (香典), in a special envelope. The offering is meant to send the deceased on their journey.

For some offerings, people go to the bank or post office and get crisp, unused bills. Today, the banks are closed, but I asked the ATM for some bills… they were not new. I shocked the only other person present by asking many questions about how to get a clean bill. At first she had the, “I can’t understand the foreigner” look on her face and tried to put me off quickly and escape. When I asked again, she realized I was using difficult Japanese terms, and relaxed to normal conversation level. She said an old bill is better for kouden. I will verify that later.

I managed to get a white shirt, black pants, black socks, and black arm band today. I will be wearing my dark brown jacket. Hopefully I won’t offend anyone. Well, I better get cleaned up and out the door. Tomorrow’s post (Sunday Soundcheck) is already scheduled, so there will be something to read in my absence. Monday is a holiday and I will have a chance to see my girlfriend. She promised to give me a big hug, which I’m sure will remind me that much is still good in this world.

A Friend’s Passing

When I arrived in Japan amidst a typhoon on May 20th, 2004, I was met at the airport by three people. Two of them had an obligation to be there; one chose to be there. On a day that most people would choose to stay home, he came out to greet me and help me. That man was Mr. Matsuda. He was a very strong man, full of energy, regardless of having battled liver cancer.

He had a couple relapses over the years and I would visit him in the hospital. I would try to make him laugh and he would take me around to try and set me up with the nurses. Over the past year and a half, his visits to the doctor had gotten more frequent. I could tell they were taking a toll on him, but he always kept a brave face and tried to keep the others around him settled.

Tonight I got a call from a mutual friend. I asked if they were well, and immediately, from the tone of their voice, I knew the reason for the call. Matsuda-san passed away last night at the hospital. My plans for the weekend have been canceled so I can attend ceremonies tomorrow and Sunday.

I am doing fine now, but I’m sure when I see his wife’s face I will want to cry. We have lost someone special.

Carpentry

Where money gets spent or withheld often baffles me. Schools often have a tight budget, but handicapped children seem to get a lot of funding. Most of the handicapped students have their own caregiver/teacher who follows them around. The main philosophy seems to be mainstreaming now, so there is a lot of labor involved in this process. Additionally a lot of these kids have one period a day where they are taught individually or in very small groups.

One of my schools actually has me teach with a Japanese teacher for one student. Two teachers to one student seems like a very expensive proposition. Beyond my amazement at how much funding goes this way, I have a lot of fun. I have found that most of the emotionally or mentally challenged kids like me a lot and will try very hard. What level a student is at and how fast they are learning are of secondary importance to me. Of prime concern is how willing they are to learn. If someone has a desire to learn, they can fulfill their potential.

So we are breaking for the summer and one kid with hurdles had fallen short of getting his bookshelves constructed. Hence, I was asked to help him complete the project. Japanese tools are fascinating and I had a good time. We had to do a little “board stretching” to get everything together. Now he can take something fun home for the summer.

Being Forgotten

As foreign assistant teachers here, we are sometimes pampered and sometimes totally neglected. Lunch often falls in the neglect category. I order the school lunches to be as much like everyone else as possible; however, there are days when no school lunch is served. On these days all of the teachers order up bento lunches. I had been totally overlooked in the past, but wrote about finally being notified ahead of time about the lack of school lunch in November 2006. That was a landmark day where I started to wonder if I was “in the club”.

Well, today was a little less landmarky. This is the last week of classes for first term. All of the students get sent home before lunchtime, so there is no school lunch service. Now that I am teaching at different schools every day, I had to stay on my toes and be proactive about protecting my waistline. I can read almost all the notes on the informational chalkboards at the schools now, so I noted when lunch service stopped and, at each school, asked what they would be doing about that. When they told me they were ordering up bento lunches, I requested that they order food for me too. Each time I did this I made note of it on my calendar for fear I would forget one.

Today, there was a big discussion about how to handle me at lunchtime. I heard someone say, “Well, Mr. So-and-so will be absent and Bikkuri can eat his lunch. I asked the responsible party and she insisted I had only discussed the possibility of ordering a lunch. I would have leaned on her a bit, but since I knew a meal was forthcoming, I didn’t care that we had just gotten lucky. After my classes were finished, I called tomorrow’s school to verify that they would have a lunch for me. Not taking any chances after today.

I feel sorry for the teachers who can’t read and speak Japanese. I imagine some of them must get stung by this. On the 30th we will be running a seminar for teachers. Half of the time is to be spent on “how to work well with your ALT”. I think we’ll talk a little about watching their backs.

Translation to English

Some chuckleheads keep using Google to translate my blog postings… TO ENGLISH!!! I realize there maybe a grammatical error here or there, but I’m fairly certain my prose still qualifies as English. I do get a kick out of loading up the pages to see how the translator butchers things. I was particularly amused that it translates some of the digits on the calendar to spelled out words, but only some of them.

Anyhow, I understand why people might want to translate to French or Greek, which has happened, but - you English readers - leave my English alone!