Marathon in 109 Days!

I will be running The Quad Cities Marathon on Sunday, September 26th! Read my running (mis)adventures here :)

When You Leave Your Only Set of Keys on the Train

Sunday night I was getting home from visiting Stephen in Hiroshima. I had several bags in my hands and so wanted to make the whole process easier by carrying my keys with me instead of rummaging for them in the darkness once I got to my house. I set my house keys on the seat next to mine. And promptly forgot them as I left the train.

I stopped in my tracks five minutes later when I realized my plan went horribly awry and instead of being slightly inconvenienced at my doorstep I was majorly inconvenienced given that my keys, now heading to Himeji, are in fact the only set of keys I have to my house which I dutifully lock.

Thankfully, due to the recent temperature drops and hikes I had left one of my sliding glass windows unlocked and so was able to burgle my house.

Though people in the inaka might be nosey they are not thieves so leaving my door unlocked Monday wasn't too much of a concern. I was loaned a key from my BOE that owns the house I live in.

"Be careful" I was told. I wasn't about to remind them that's exactly what they told me when I first arrived and was given only one key to my house. "There is no copy. Be careful."

Fortunately I happen to live in Japan. As difficult as Japan made my sprained ankle recovery, it has made the return of my lost keys incredibly easy.

I was fretting over asking my co-workers to call the train station and inquire. They're busy people. They don't need another task. Then I saw a wonderful poster in the train station with graphics and happy-looking people with a number to call in case you left something behind on the train.

And I realized though it wouldn't be perfect, I could certainly call and explain what I needed. I prefaced my conversation with explaining my limited Japanese. I spoke to two station staff people. The one in Himeji was far more exasperated with my Japanese (he referred to me as a gaijin to his co-workers which is short for gaikokujin and is the difference between saying "foreigner" and "person from a foreign country"). But in the end I was able to confirm my lost keys were in Himeji.

What came next surprised me. I was expecting to me be making a trip to Himeji to pick them up.

Nope. This is Japan and in Japan though you might be referred to as a "foreigner" your lost item will be delivered right to your home.

Excellent.

So when you leave your only set of keys on the train in Japan, don't worry too much. But it helps to have left a window open to facilitate the burgling of your home in such a case.

Fish Heads Aren't Even the Worst of It!

I have a piece of paper with 500 written on it stuck to my fridge. It reminds me of this unbelievable statistic: the average American consumes the same quantity of food as do 500 Ethiopians. It's not meant as a guilt-laden diet plan; “make yourself so depressed about the state of the world and you won't want to eat!” Rather, it is a reminder of a principle that has long since vanished from our doorsteps in the West: moderation. Our society encourages thoughtless consumption, from Hummers that end up in the driveways of cookie-cutter homes in the suburbs to pasta dishes for children that contain more saturated fat that an adult should consume in four days. If someone is selling it, we think it must be a good idea to buy it.

With this cultural heritage, I was thrilled to be making my way to Japan in 2008. Known as a society heavily influenced by it's religious and artistic aestheticism, Japan could be the poster-child of “less is more” and “quality not quantity.” What I couldn't anticipate was the wreckage that the principle of motainai wreaks on school lunch at my junior high school.

Motainai is kinda like “waste not, want not.” In a conversation you'd use it to explain why you'd saved the scraps of fabric from a sewing project just as much as you could use it to explain why you stayed up late watching the Olympics. Applied to school lunch, this principle forsakes wisdom and pushes the boundaries of sanity.

Our school lunch company is, from what I can tell, incapable of counting or reading a calendar of events. If half the teachers will be away for a sports conference the company does not give us less food; we simply eat twice as much. Why? Motainai. The lunch company also keeps track of the food we didn't eat and sends my school a report card.

Class competitions are held to see what class leaves the least amount of milk bottles behind. Variables like chronically absent students and those with allergies are not taken into account. Allergies in general are not considered by the company; there was a student at my school last year who is allergic to seafood, all seafood. Almost everyday we eat fish, especially in the summer, and he simply went without. No meat replacement was ever offered.

So I was not surprised, really, when after informing one of my teachers that I didn't eat today's soup because I'm allergic to clams, she said “Motainai.” Not a command, necessarily, but certainly a sentiment that expressed as much or more disappointment in me having an allergy than in the school lunch company for not providing me an alternative.

Any principle, even moderation, observed entirely for it's own sake loses all meaning. Motainai is a good idea when it encourages students to try foods they don't like or aren't familiar with. And it's a good idea when it encourages us to soak in every last moment of an event. And it's a good idea when it makes us appreciate the labor that's gone into our food manufacturing, making us thoughtful in our consumption. But at junior high schools all across Japan motainai has gone terribly wrong.

I have become an expert at force-feeding myself and ignoring my gag reflex all to satisfy a principle that is, in the meantime, rendered meaningless.

Let's PURIKURA

What started as just curiosity has now become a new obsession. Almost a hobby. I've gotten purikura in almost every city I've visited. This is purikura:

Purikura is the Japanese version of photo booths. You slip coins into a slot, and several small photos are taken. Usually friends and lovers take them together. And that's where the similarities end.

In purikura you have a choice of several different booths, sometimes over twenty. They're often in multistory arcades but just as often they are attractions in and of themselves. They are most popular with young crowds but even college graduates will get some purikura with their friends to celebrate the occasion.

Once you insert the coins the madness begins, and quickly. You need to select how you want to be tinted and if you want your eyes to be colored/sparkled. Then you decide which 4-6 backgrounds you want out of about 100. Some are just plain colors or patterns but others have cute images like on my example of purikura.

Once you decide how you're gonna pose (before each shot you're shown models posing in your selected background in case you can't come up with anything on the spot) and the photos are taken it's only half over.

Then you go to a smaller, adjacent booth with two chairs and a screen with two "pens" attached. Now you go about decorating your tiny photos. There's tons of hearts and stars, cutesy sayings in Japanese and English (the one above is, "Suki, suki, daisuki: Like, like, love"), date stamps, pen color choices for writing your own message, and hoards of cute images like puppies and cakes and smileys.

It's incredibly overwhelming at first but the more you go to the purikura dens the more you're used to what they offer and pretty soon you're purikura-ing just like a giddy group of high school girls.

Purikura is probably not a legitimate hobby nor is it probably what the JET Programme has in mind when it recommends getting involved in cultural activities. But it is fun, really, really fun. And, as if it couldn't get better, you can peel off the backing and your purikura becomes a sticker!

On the Scooping Up of Night Soil

Over the last year and a half in Japan I have been reminded again and again, by both my blunders in Japanese and my students' in English, that language usage can be a tricky thing.

When you look up sumimasen in a dictionary, you're given "excuse me" as the translation. And "thank you" when you look up arigatou gozaimasu and "I'm sorry" for gomennesai. However, that does not mean that you are now ready to insert them into conversation. Not by a long shot! Sumimasen seems to be rarely used in formal/business settings to mean "excuse me." The more apologetic and polite gomennasai is more appropriate. Situations that warrant a quick sumimasen in my office--passing next to or overtaking someone in the hallways, for example--wouldn't need the English equivalent back home.

And "thank you?" Well, it has it's place I'm sure. But in daily interactions I use sumimasen and gomennasai just as often. For example, if I'm still at my desk instead of helping with lunch preparations when I'm given my lunch tray, it's most appropriate to say "excuse me" not "thank you" since it lets the listener know I appreciate their effort and am about to join in as well. And then if someone goes out of their way especially, like bringing presents from a trip, a hearty gomennasai will almost always be paired with the most polite thank you, domo arigatou gozaimasu.

Cultural understanding goes a long way to aid dictionary translations, or mistranslations. A few months ago one of the teachers I am paired with was telling me a story about why she was so flustered. She pointed to the hallway we were walking through and said, "I coach this road." She is an incredible teacher and super friendly but, obviously, her English vocabulary is somewhat limited. However, I had been at the school long enough to know there are teacher-led student teams that clean certain areas of the school after lunch. And I knew the schedule enough to know that we'd just finished this cleaning time. Understanding the culture, and not the words, what was what facilitated our successful communication.

Unfortunately, such was not the case when it came to the scooping out of night soil. My newest Japanese word: kumitori. It is the "scooping out of night soil." Apparently, my toilet is not connected to a treatment plant or communal septic system but is kinda like an outhouse. One that gets scooped out from time to time. But of course I have to give the go-ahead before these kinds of things happen to my house and so it falls on the English teachers at school to explain the scooping out of night soil to me.

"Your toilet tank needs to be emptied." "Your sewage system is bad. You need a new one." "Can you empty your toilet tank tomorrow?" Oh damn, I thought. I really don't understand anything you're saying. The dictionary entry of kumitori as "scooping out night soil" wasn't much clearer so I couldn't blame my teachers for the confusion.

Eventually, I came to know that the kumitori company was coming to empty my septic tank in preparation for the reconstruction of my entire sewage system. This took place over a weekend. The preparations were the weekend before. Unfortunately these were unannounced, giving both me and the workers a bit of a shock. Especially the woman who woke me up at 9:00am on a Saturday to bang around my house and remind me that they'd be doing the construction next weekend. Yes, I thought, next weekend! When I'm not here. Not this weekend...at nine in the morning! Too bad the majority of my Japanese is rather formal and polite and so I was unable to convey such sentiments.

When it comes to things like the digging up of night soil, no translation will explain it enough. You just have to experience it.

RIP computer :(

Shortly after writing the most recent post my beloved laptop Hank the Rockstar died. I turned him off one last time and that was it. Buying and shipping a new computer took time but within the last month, Lil' Percy arrived.


And of course there's still a month gap from when Lil' Percy arrived to now...Oops!

I have been furiously studying for the Foreign Service Officer Test. I took it March 5th in the US Consulate in Osaka. I'd like to work in embassies one day as a Foreign Service Officer. This is the second step after submitting an application in a process that usually lasts awhile...sometimes a couple years-while. But after talking with the extremely friendly Foreign Service Officers after the three hour test I am more confident than ever that this is what I'd like to do. They just about talked my ear off! They are my people.

The test is, as one current consulate employee described it to me, kind of like a game of Trivial Pursuit. The questions are about management philosophy, economics, US government, US history and culture, as well as world history and geography. I was asked to answer questions ranging from the history of England to the location of certain countries to the proceedings of Congress to the appropriate way to handle employee reviews. On top of the breadth of knowledge, the test results mean different things at different times and are mostly dependent on job availability.

So, though this job looks to be in my future, how far in my future we'll just have to wait and see.

Torture in Era Obama...?

Being an American abroad in era Obama is glorious. No more talk about Iraq, about Bush ruining the world. No more jokes about his second term (ya know, that we let him have one). Now it's sunshine and roses. The student council at my school Oku JHS even chose "change" as this year's slogan. Despite the health care chaos and lingering recession Obama is still a rock star and as an American I am officially off the hook.

But as I read the news from back home (admittedly sparingly), it's becoming clear his rock star status in the States is decidedly in question. And the questions are getting harder.

On Christmas Day a Dutch man saved 278 passengers and crew of a Northwest flight. A man was preparing to detonate an explosive that would take down the aircraft when he was stopped by several fellow passengers.

Like our assessment of the 9/11, we've decided it's not an intelligence failure but--as Obama said--a failure to "connect the dots." I'm not sure there is a difference.

It's certainly a failure of the National Counterterrorism Center, the organization put in place after 9/11 to ensure intelligence sharing occurs. Or perhaps we ought to create another organization that will be in charge of "connecting the dots" so our intelligence agencies don't have to think just gather, then one organization will make sure this gathered information is shared between the intelligence community and yet another organization will make sure that the gathered and shared intelligence is analyzed. Effective?

But what's more alarming than this near miss or even the fact that we're continuing the Bush-era reference to "enemies" and the Bush-era standard "something has gone terribly wrong and it was a failure but none of us are to blame" is Obama's new stance on Guantanamo Bay captives. The release of all captives from Yemen is being postponed. A group from Yemen is apparently responsible for the failed attempt on Christmas Day. Obama once represented a strong stand against this detention facility. Now, however, much like a plot line from Fox's 24 Obama seems to be saying that miscarriages of justice are OK if it means saving American lives.

Guantanamo Bay is wrong. It needs to be closed. It was wrong on December 24th and is just as wrong in the aftermath of this botched terror attempt.

Obama now is in the precarious position of reassuring a public that's already been failed by it's intelligence community that we're safe and our government is doing a good job while also trying to explain his new position on Guantanamo. I realize it's complicated and that we need to be careful after such an event. However Obama must justify his new--and seemingly contradictory--position regarding Guantanamo.

Is torture permissible in in era Obama, or not? Can he, as president, make the difficult decisions to give America the change it needs?