With Or Without You

It's Wednesday, October 23, 1991 here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. It's pretty chilly outside, but this is my second autumn here, and I'm from Toronto, so the weather doesn't really bother me - at least not enough to whine about.

This week, I'm visiting the small, old school called Chikasono Chu Gakko (Chikasono Junior High School), one of the city's seven middle schools I visit each week.

This place, has always been a strange one for me. Everyone is nice at this school surrounded by rice and corn fields - it's like I'm stuck in a cereal box! - but they aren't completely, over the top nice... kind of what I am used to getting from every other school but one (Kaneda Kita Chu Gakko - where the teachers are great, a few students, too... but the rest make me sad and angry).

That's why I am surprised that I had fun at school today. The students were all genki (fine and energetic), the English classes were boisterous, the students were even interactive with myself and the other teachers... so it sucks when I have to get driven home early because there's a teachers meeting! Sucks... but I like my free time!

By the way... I had brought my Japanese red maple leaf bonsai tree to school As I am sure most of you are aware, a bonsai tree is the dwarfing a regular-sized tree via pruning and tree binding... wrapping limbs with copper wire to bend it to the desirable form of one's choosing.

I call bonsai, tree bondage, and find that it turns me on.

Anyhow, perverse musings aside for the nonce, Uetake-san (pronounced ooh-eh-tah-kay) looks at the pathetic tree of mine and proclaims: "Not enough water."

Actually, he says it in Japanese, and I need a proper translation from anyone... fortunately the caretaker (ie janitor) is there and provides that. How is it that the guy with the worst academic school record can provide a Japanese to English translation before anyone else in that damn office - including the Japanese teacher of English who was lost in his own thoughts about how to soup up his car.

Anyhow... I tell Mr. Uetake that I water my bonsai tree everyday.

He sticks a finger into the enamel pot, pulls up a root, snaps it between two fingers and says: "Too much water."

This he says in English.

Crap.

But through further translation from the janitor, I learn that the roots are rotting out and that my bonsai tree will probably die.

I go home and stare at my bonsai tree until Ashley comes over.

We're supposed to go to kyu-do (Japanese archery) lessons today, but we don't feel like it... after all... I have a fake cracked rib courtesy of an Ashley-thrown sake (Japanese fermented rice wine) shot glass - and Ashley is just a lazy bitc... no... I won't complete that thought.

So... Ashley and I sit in my toasty warm apartment and talk and kiss.

It seems that mutual friend Karen (who likes me and wants me for a boyfriend) had asked her friend Ashley (who is my ex-girlfriend with benefits) whether or not we are still sleeping together.

Ah... that must have been why I was yelled by Karen on Monday evening.

Ashley truthfully told Karen that we hadn't slept together in a month. Crap. Has it been that long? Oh well... thank goodness for all of the other women I've been sleeping with.

I've been here in Japan for 15 months now... and while I arrived here with no knowledge of the country, including social customs or language, and was a virgin, I am now confident enough to know I can sleep with damn near any Japanese women I choose... or any woman I choose, for that matter.

Chalk it up to 'desperation breeding tiny monsters', but back in 1990 and 1991, I chose poorly. That's something I hope to rectify in the future.  

Anyhow... I don't get total sex, but like talking, there is some oral satisfaction.

I reassure her that all of the crap from the past is past (like hell) and that I am here for her.

She trusts me again, and as a sign of good will I give her almost all of the booze in my place. It would have been all of it, but her backpack was stretched to overflowing... 

In keeping with the evening, I don't ride her home, and collapse into my Queen-sized bed feeling very tired.

By the way... she left at 2AM. What the hell? I'm the one that can stay up that late...  she's usually toast by 10AM or earlier! I guess she doesn't have work tomorrow.

But I do. Crap!

Somewhere I can't see the trees for the forest,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is performed by U2, of course.

Edible Installation Art in Tokyo

Food and art make provocative bedfellows. At Tokyo’s recent Open Harvest event, food served as both medium and message to a project intended to spark discussion about sustainable agriculture in Japan.

Held inside Content, a restaurant at the Tokyo Museum of Contemporary Art, the event billed itself as a “participatory edible art installation.”

After passing through a noren curtain of dried rice stalks and grazing on a garden-like arrangement of potted salad greens, guests were free to forage among the food stalls, which had been arranged to evoke fields and ponds. Posted on the walls and projected onto large screens at the back of the venue were portraits of local farmers and fishermen, as well as images of the Open Harvest crew harvesting rice and visiting producers.

Sam White, a Chez Panisse maître d’ who co-produced Open Harvest, said he’s been thinking about holding a food-and-art event in Tokyo for more than a year, and he began discussing the possibilities with Sylvan Mishima Brackett, owner of Bay Area catering company Peko Peko.

“Given the fears about radiation, this seems like a special time in Japan when people are thinking critically about where their food comes from,” Mr. Brackett said.

That reality was on display at several points during the evening. In the middle of the room, near a stand serving wild pigeon and mushrooms, a group of chefs plucked and gutted a basket full of the birds before carrying them to the kitchen to be sautéed in wine and butter. Onlookers snapped photos as a deer was skinned, dressed and later served as delicious venison burgers.

More harrowing were the crowds, which filled every inch of the space, forcing diners to balance paper plates and glasses while trying to eat with chopsticks. The threat of being doused with hot bouillabaisse loomed around every corner, and was, unfortunately for me, eventually realized.

Tickets to the main event cost 10,000 yen per person (about $129), but the organizers said that the idea was not to turn a profit but to break even.

While they have no firm plans to make it a regular event, they’re open to the idea, Mr. White said. “We have created friendships and alliances that will undoubtedly work together.”

http://blogs.wsj.com/scene/2011/11/30/edible-installation-art-in-tokyo/

Bad Side Of The Moon

 Hi there... for all of you new readers out there, this blog alternates depending on my mood between true snippets of my life in Japan, real news stories about Japan, and weird observations I have about Japan. Often all mixed up together. I've been doing this for over two years now, and I've enjoyed every minute of creating Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife for you. Thank YOU for reading it. But... and I enjoy the word but, if you would help spread... the word, I guess is the word, to gather more sheep to the flock, I would appreciate it. Ego, you know.

Oh... one more thing... stories about ME, have a rock and roll song title for a title. Not all of these stories have me looking good. But, I am an honest man. At least I am now.

It's Tuesday, October 22, 1991 in the land of Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. Full disclosure - this is my life. I was born in London, England to Indian parents (dot, not the feather), and grew up in Canada - Toronto, specifically. There's nothing remotely Indian or English about me, except the color of my skin and a love of Monty Python and soccer (to play, not watch).

I'm an assistant English teacher (AET) on the Japan Exchange & Teaching (JET) Programme, and I teach at all seven junior high schools in this city, once per week, team-teaching with a Japanese teacher of English.  

This week, I'm at Chikasono Chu Gakko (Chikasono Junior High School)... a small, old school deep in the heart of some farming country here in Ohtawara. No surprise there. Ohtawara translates into Big-Rice Field-Field. Lots of fields of rice.

So I'm sitting at my desk in the teacher's office at Chikasono, when the Principal comes over to me and asks in English, no less: "Do you know 'chikan'?

It just so happens that last week I learned that 'chikan' means 'molester'. What the Hell would he ask me that?

Hmmm... it must be some other Japanese word that sounds the same but has a different meaning - a homonym.

I look him directly in the face, scrunch up an eye and an eyebrow and say, "Tabun (maybe)".

Kouchou-sensei (Principal) utters: "Peeping Tom-u."

"Ah yes! I know"... I probably shouldn't have smiled.

Still, he scurried away and talked to a few other teachers... each of whom slowly turned to look at me.

Christ... now what did I do? All I did was boink a university student in a classroom at Utsunomiya University. She was in her 20s (Junko!!!).

Ah... maybe I didn't do anything... the Japanese always seem fascinated that I seem to know what they are talking about. Hmm... I guess I do. I must be getting the hang of this Japan-living....

No more is said to me about 'chikan'. I'm curious, but am afraid that being too curious will kill this cat. I'll let it slide and hope someone - perhaps a Japanese English teacher - will soon bring up the point.

No one does. Then again, maybe this had something to do with me being in the men's room at this school last year. Back when a female student walked by the room that has no door and called out a friendly greeting to me. Perhaps I should have waved with a different hand. True story.

Back home, I race out to the Ohtawara video shop and rent two horror movies and watch until my eyes bleed.

Karen Irwin... a cute, bubbly redhead from North Bay, Ontario, Canada (and a high school AET on JET) calls again.

She yelled at me about something yesterday evening. I think she knew I was still sleeping with my ex, Ashley (also a high school AET). Karen likes me a lot and wants me for a boyfriend. I don't want a girlfriend, but I do want the sex. If I had a girlfriend, I would also lose the sex from Ashley... and Junko... and I wouldn't want to lose that.

Today, it's small talk.

After we hang-up, Ashley calls and says sorry for cracking my ribs with the chucked sake (Japanese fermented rice wine) shot glass.

I made that story up. The part about getting hurt. Ashley did hit me with the glass, but I'm Magnificientguy... I mean Superman! It just bounced of me. I lied to elicit sympathy. I can be so immature sometimes. Oh well. It worked.

Apparently Karen told her. I must have told her last night, but I was sooo tired I had no recollection of doing so. Damn. I'm such a dick. But will it get me laid?

Somewhere wondering what Tom was peeping at,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by April Wine - hey! I saw them in concert, too!

For Goodness Sake

Sake - fermented Japanese rice wine has long been a favorite of mine. I'm actually having a glass now as I write this.

That first sip always tastes like water to me... that first and second glass do, too... and then it hits you like a ton of bricks.

Whack! That's either someone getting their butt spanked or my heading hitting the table. Just kidding about the latter. I've never met a bottle of sake I couldn't handle with aplomb and decadence... but it isn't going to make me pass out!


From my good friend Matthew Hall whom I first met in Japan back in 1990 on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme, and still consider one of my closest confidants -- though even he doesn't know all (sorry bud!), comes this fantastic story from CNN International. It's all about sake and what you NEED to know to become better acquainted with my odd drinking habits and to also impress your friends, family and other Nihonjin (Japanese) who always seemed shocked when a gaijin (foreigner) knows more than or even as much as they do about anything Japanese.

Anyhow... here's my favorite tale involving myself and sake: YOPPORAI (DRUNKARD)

Here... read this article, and sake it to'em!: KANPAI! (CHEERS!)

Andrew Joseph
I also like the fact that the original writer of the article is named Brandi. It seems fitting.

Holiday In Cambodia

It's Monday, October 1991... here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. Hopefully the reader will excuse your humble writer (mostly humble) that I seem to be in a bit of a rut here in my 15th month month in the country. I team-teach English at seven junior high schools here in this modest city I call home.

I love Ohtawara-shi. That's not at question. It's probably because I feel so at home here that I feel as though I am in a bit of a rut. Aside from women-troubles (here in 1991 and 2011), work has become work... and I hate that feeling.

I'm at Chikasono Chu Gakko (Chikasono Junior High School) this week for four days. Friday is usually spent at the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) offices where I get caught up on paperwork for them, write letters, create short stories and create a monthly column for a JET (Japan Exchange and Teaching) Programme newsletter for other English teachers here in Tochigi-ken and in a few others as well. It's A Wonderful Rife has become popular even if I don't feel that way about myself.

 Lo and behold... today at Chikasono, I actually did something at school! Usually I stand around around and do nothing... but today, I had a lot of interaction with the students. Although today, it was IN class and not outside of it... still it was a great  start to my
week.

Of course it may have been because the OBOE kyoikuinkai (the office) came by with the PTA to watch and review another class of mine. Hell, today we used a word game I created - and it went well. I feel needed!

At home I watch the rest of Psycho 3 that I had rented and the ride my bicycle out to night school that I teach on the side for the Ohtawara International Friendship Society. 

My adult students are getting better at speaking English, though they do sometimes forget the fundamental basics of English. That's okay... that's all a part of learning, and I find their enthusiasm catching.

I go to the video store and return my movie and rent another and crash watching it.

Karen Irwin, a woman on the JET Programme I like but seems to really like me calls and then yells at me about something.I'll be honest... I'm too tired and bored to note what she is yelling at me about and let her rant for a few minutes before I hang up.

Welcome to Ohtawara-shi, Andrew Joseph. This is your rife.

Somewhere wondering how deep a rice paddy actually is,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Dead Kennedys. Video below.

Cleaning Up The Radioactive Contamination

I'm late today!

As such - being back-logged with homework from work and family commitments (just commit me now!), here's a piece from my alma mater, the Toronto Star newspaper that appeared a few days ago about how Japan is going to deal with the clean-up of the radioactive contamination that afflicted the northeast coast of the country following the Fukushima nuclear accident that nearly rivaled (or surpassed, depending on your point of view) the Chernobyl accident back in the 1980s.

Here's the story here: CLEAN-UP.

Cheers,
Andrew Joseph

Hello Kitty Irks Blogger

Just a short one today!

Hello Kitty  - the Japanese marketing phenomenum - is everywhere.

Yes... at McDonalds, she is on a kids Happy Meal! Punchouts! Why would a cat with no mouth be interested in a Happy Meal?

Whatever... now... as for more absurdity... down below is my key chain for my SAAB 900S. It's a Pez dispenser.

Again... why would a cat with no mouth be offering me a treat like this? Sure I have to nearly rip it's head off to get at the sweet candy... but why didn't they put a mouth on that cat?! It irks me! Someone tell meow why!

Certifiably yours,
Andrew Joseph
Yes... my key chain has turned gray... it needs a cleaning.... stupid cat. I love Hello Kitty. Don't tell her though. She seems to like it when I play the idiot.
PS... that's my dog, Buster, in the pic.

LEGO: Ninja Sneak Attack

Regular readers of this blog know I enjoy LEGO. Yes, it's because my soon-to-be six-year-old-son likes it and I didn't want to be left out... but I decided a few months ago to mix my love of Japan and new-found love of LEGO together.

The following montage of photos is my Ninja Sneak Attack On A Samurai. It's the first of four dioramas I am working on. I've finished another, but I may take it apart and rebuild it after having more ideas flood my tiny egg-shell mind. The other three dioramas are actually a lot bigger than this one. Heck... lots of trees in the others, too.

After this, over the next few months, I will hopefully reveal a feudal Japanese hamlet scene; a castle scene (that's the one I may rebuild); and a tranquil forest scene - but is it really tranquil? I've learned to add surprises to the scene... to give it action... or life.

Hopefully you like what I've done via the photos below. It is my first attempt, so I know there's room for improvement. I was also hindered by an inability to get LEGO parts I really wanted - even from my local LEGO shop and various shops on E-bay! Still... one does the best with one's limited parts, skill and finances.

Enjoy!

 

Cheers,
Andrew Joseph

Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)

You might think I am taking the easy way out - merely to keep my streak alive of having posted at least one blog since the beginning of February. You might be right. But sometimes... in one's life... nothing happened. It sucks when one can say that while living in a strange and alien (but wonderful) land like Japan.. and even worse when I know I am burnt out here in Toronto from work and life... but here's today's blog... exactly as I wrote it 20 years ago:

It's Sunday, October 20, 1991.
I am bored. I feel like I'm in a severe rut. yeah, I'm having a lot of sex with women I barely know and with others I thought I knew... but right now - today - I'm by myself. No one calls. No kids drop by unannounced. Nothing. I sit here in my three-bedroom apartment and stare at my fish wondering what it would be like to be one of those big dumb goldfish.

Perhaps to amuse myself and perhaps just to be seen to make sure I exist today, I go to the local Ohtawara video shop and rent three movies. No one looks at me funny. No one says hi. Weird.

But when I get home and am about to pop in a movie into the VCR - Matthew comes over. That big dumb galoot! I love him! I do exist!

We watch one of my all time favourite black comedy flicks: Heathers, before he skedaddles - probably to go visit his girlfriend Takako. But still... thank you, Matthew.

I then watch Awakenings and half of Psycho 3 before I turn in early at midnight.

Somewhere I exist,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by the exciting Sly & The Family Stone. Video below!
 PS: Happy Thanksgiving USA! And a special thanks for giving to Matthew. Sly's got a family - just like Matthew was to me! I mean IS to me!
PPS: You know... I had no idea this blog entry was going to work out when I began it.
PPPS: Weird stuff begins to rear its red head tomorrow.    

Drumming Up Business in Toronto

The Nagata Shachu drumming group - from Toronto - has just concluded its 13th performance in its hometown, performing at the Toronto Harbourfront Centre on November 18-20, 2011.

Nagata Shachu (formerly the Kiyoshi Nagata Ensemble), based in Toronto, Canada, has enthralled audiences with its mesmerizing and heart-pounding performances of the Japanese drum (taiko) since its formation in 1998. The ensemble has toured widely throughout Canada, the US and Italy performing in theaters, concert halls, and major music festivals.

While rooted in the folk drumming traditions of Japan, the group's principal aim is to rejuvenate this ancient art form by producing innovative and exciting music that seeks to create a new voice for the taiko. Taking its name from founder Nagata Kiyoshi (surname first), and shachu (an old term for a performing troupe), Nagata Shachu has become renowned for its exacting, straightforward yet physically demanding performances as well as for its diverse repertoire. Their playing is the combination of unbounded spirit with the highest levels of musicianship and discipline. The result is an unforgettable experience that is both powerful in expression and heartfelt in its sincerity.

Nagata Shachu has the unique distinction of having sponsorship from four major Japanese drum manufacturers. Since 1999, the ensemble has rehearsed in its own fully equipped and dedicated taiko studio.


This year's performance was called Hana- in support of a new DVD. Hana can mean flower or magnificence in Japanese - depending on which Kanji letter is used. In Noh theater, hana is flower, but used to describe the creating and sharing of beauty through performance. By doing this, the performer will achieve rarified relationship with the audience - apparently similar to the way one cultivates a flower.

I didn't really create all that. That was said by troupe founder and artistic director Nagata.

Wish I had the few dollars to spare, but from what I have heard, it was a great show. Basically, I just wanted to say, should the opportunity present itself where you have the chance to see this troupe or one like it - go. Do not hesitate. Spoil yourself.

Me... this blog thingie doesn't pay enough.

Regardless... here's a video to show you what we/I missed this time:

Cheers
Andrew Joseph

Jungle Love

It's Saturday, October 19, 1991. Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

I'm not sure why Junko is here with me, but for a marathon bout of eight hours of pure unadulterated sex, I really don't give a crap.

But now that I've had some juice to replenish myself for yet another round of jungle love with my little sex monkey, I do wonder - briefly - what happened to her boyfriend. Ah... screw it. I have much more devious things in mind for Junko.

By 3PM, Junko has had enough and wobbles out of my apartment and down to her car - hopefully to go back to Utsunomiya-shi and her studies there at the university. I know we'll see each other again.

Don't get me wrong... the sex is fantastic... it's like a three-way with the two Thai chicks from earlier this year... but there's only Junko. Now that's enthusiasm. Though... I did suggest half-jokingly that she bring a girlfriend next time she shows up.

It's Junko. She probably will. She's not jealous, as long as she's a part of my fun.

With Junko physically gone, and the smell of apple blossoms and sex permeating the air, I think about Ashley. She's my ex. A couple of days ago, I acted the ass and she pitched a shot glass at my ribs. It hurt like a mother, but there was no real damage done.

But she doesn't know that.

Andrew's revenge:

I decide I will tell Ashley that I was in the hospital last night after I awoke at 2AM in a lot of pain. After X-Rays, I find out I have a cracked bone in my chest from where the sake glass hit me.

Yes, it's all a lie, but screw her... she still hit me with a sake glass. I'm after pity.

It's really easy to be a prick to your ex  - even one you still sleep with occasionally - when you know you have a hot babe like Junko champing at the bit to be with you. Not sure when I'll tell Ashley or even how, though. 

I clean up the apartment and find a pair of Junko's panties perched behind my aquarium. I tuck it into my jean's front pocket and head out to the local video store here in Ohtawara-shi and rent three movies, that honestly I have no interest in watching.

I phone my friend Kevin back in Toronto and chat with him for a half-hour. Despite him being one of my closest friends, I don't tell him what I am doing to Ashley or what I am doing with Junko. Hell... even I don't know what I am doing.

I sleepwalk through the movies thinking about Junko, and making my body think I have a cracked bone in my chest. Did you know that if you believe something hard enough, you can fake anything?

Somewhere being a vindictive bastard - and loving it,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is sung by The Steve Miller Band. Video is below with lyrics!
PS: Yes, I know reading this 20-years later, and presenting it here for the world to see does not paint myself in a very positive light - except for the stuff with Junko... but I'm a Scorpio male born in the Year of the Dragon. I don't take crap from anyone. Plus... you'll notice under the blog's title, it does say I am an idiot.

No Rest For The Wicked

It's October 18, 1991... Friday.
I've spent the last evening drinking heavily in Nikko at a hotel with a whole bunch of AETs (assistant English teachers). I just turned 27 10 days ago, I'm living in Japan now for about 16 months. I am enjoying myself here... but I still find myself rife with women troubles.
Yeah, I just got laid yesterday by Junko, a fantastic Japanese woman who has fallen head over heels in love/lust with me - and took to stalking me... is it just men who are apt to sleep with their stalker? I know I did - twice yesterday... at her University in Utsunomiya-shi (Utsunomiya City)... got caught whilst entwined, and carried on.
I left her to go back to her boyfriend, while I traveled on with the rest of the AETs here in Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture) who are part of the Japan Exchange & Teaching (JET) Programme, to visit Nikko-shi (Nikko City) for a science/nature tour.
What I discovered is that I am a complete animal... a predator, if you will, constantly hunting women. Or perhaps just a single woman. I don't know. I only know that what I have, is not exactly what I want. I'm not even sure if what I am after is what I need.
Last night I made out with Karen, and got into a fight with Ashley... no, you are not mistaken... hardly the names of Japanese women.
I know, I know... who the hell goes to Japan to bang gaijin (foreign) chicks. No one. However, that's why it was easy for me to have my cake and eat it too... all the foreigners are busy chasing Japanese tail... and no one is around to chase the foreign tail.
Did I mention I was a virgin before I arrived here? To be honest... any tail would do... just as long as it's tail.
Regardless... After getting a fine sleep of 4-1/2 hours, I'm bright-eyed and bushy tailed... which translates into barely alive, for those who know what it means to drink a lot.
I'm down eating breakfast at 8AM... it's a beautiful day, and hardly looks like it's going to rain at all... I am known as the ame otoko (rain man), afterall.
First things first... I spot Ashley and march over to her.. kneel down beside her while she eats with a couple of other female AETs, and loudly proclaim how sorry I am for being a complete and utter jerk last night.
Hopefully, me making an ass of myself in front of these people here will show her how sorry I am.
She smiles and says it's okay... so I walk off and finish my breakfast with the boys. The JET Programme is very clique-ish... but me... I prefer talking to anyone who can stomach having a good time without being snotty about it.
As such, after breakfast I head out with great buddies Matthew and Jeff Seaman and visit Ryu-zu (Dragon Head) Falls. That's it in the photo above. Pretty damn, cool eh?
We then take a local bus down to Chuzenji-ko (Lake Chuzenji)... probably only something Matthew could figure out for us.... and watched a 15-minute promotional video on the nature of Nikko.
Have you ever seen a video for school made in the 1950s... complete with poor voice-over acting and crappy cinematography? That was this... only in Japanese.
What a waste of a science trip. Perhaps a guided nature tour would have been better?
Matthew and I leave Jeff to go back home (he's to the south, and we to the north-east), stopping back off at Utsunomiya to watch a movie at the theater... FX2.
I swear I smell apple blossoms in the air.
Junko!
I look around, but don't see her!
Damn minx... she must be here spying on me... or am I going crazy? Maybe.
But then I remember I'm carrying around a pair of her panties in my jeans. Don't ask. But it does feel sexy... in a dirty sex kind of way. But... I'm pretty sure that despite having her panties, that smell of apple blossoms was from her shampoo... not her underwear!
I glance around again... but if she's here... I can't see her. 
Matthew and I take a train home and ride back to our local video store in Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara).
I rent Child's Play 2 and watch it for an hour when I hear a soft knock at the door.
It's Junko.
I open up the door and help her off with her coat, shirt and pants, while she does the same for me. It's going to be a long day tomorrow, what with the no sleep and all.
Somewhere loving the dragon's head falls,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by: Godsmack. Video down below. Lyrics HERE.
PS: An-do-ryu, as I write my name in Japanese kanji means: Peaceful-leader-dragon. 

Menstruation and why women can't...

That title is something, isn't it?

Menstruation and why women can't be... what?

Here's two things women are forbidden to do in Japan: be sumo wrestlers, and sushi chefs.

That whole bleeding thing that women do every few weeks disrupts the Japanese traditional views on purity.

Hunh. Who knew?

I used to watch Iron Chef (Japanese version) and go to sushi restaurants, and always used to wonder why I never saw any female Japanese sushi chefs... who knew it was because they menstruate? I thought it was just some old boy's club that sort of prevented women from the profession. Like being a professional engineer here in Canada and the U.S.... old boy's club from about 30 years ago. Or being a doctor 100 years ago... nursing was fine... but a doctor? Better leave that to the men, dear...  Or being in the armed forces... I'll save you, lady!

Who knew that Japan was sexist?

Of course Japan is sexist. It was when I lived there in the early 90s, and while I am sure there has been some progress since I left, I was always sure that chauvinism was still going to exist in Japan for many a year long after I left.

But blaming it on menstruation? Men-struation... wow. At least there's a proper dignified reason that I am now aware of. That's sarcasm, by the way. It's so difficult to write sarcasm and ensure that everyone reading knows you are being sarcastic...  

Here's a comment from the son of Ono Jiro, a sushi master who owns a three-star Michelin restaurant in Tokyo's Ginza district. His menu starts at Cdn/US $300 and only gets higher. The son's name is Ono Yoshikazu.

So... Mr. Ono-san... why aren't there any female sushi craftsmen (aka shokunin)? 

Says Ono-san: "The reason is because women menstruate. To be a professional means to have a steady taste in your food, but because of the menstrual cycle women have an imbalance in their taste, and that’s why women can’t be sushi chefs."

And this is coming from the son one of the world's best sushi masters, an 86-year-old who also happens to be the subject of “Jiro Dreams of Sushi,” a documentary by American director David Gelb that recently premiered at the Berlinale this week. This son, is the man who will take up the mantle of one of the world's greatest sushi restaurant's, whose family name carries great weight in the world of sushi. 

Ono adds: "I have no children and am also not married. In Japan, work is regarded as the first thing…It might be different somewhere outside Japan where family comes first, but in Japanese tradition work comes first …There’s nothing you can do about it if you can’t see your family because you’re working and you have to trust that when the children grow up they do understand why their father was away. Because my father was trying so hard and working so hard…that’s why our restaurant exists."


Gods... work over family. I'm sure his father must have agreed... let me come home, knock up the wife, get a son, my job at home is done, now I can spend all of my time at my restaurant honing my craft. Sarcasm....

Personally, Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife believes that the menstruation reason is merely a handy excuse for remaining chauvinistic... Because Japan likes to pattern itself on being proper and dignified and following traditional values from the ancient past - back when life was so much better, it makes sense that these institutions remain the bastions of a society looking to remain a world power.

Japan... get your head out of your ass... women are fully capable of being sushi chefs... and doing it with style, verve and aplomb... as well as if not better than any male chef. While they will get their ass handed to them by their male sumo counterparts, there should be nothing to bar them from competing in the sport... but there is... as sumo wrestlers purify the clay ring with salt before battling... but a woman who could bleed from her vagina at any moment... well... it must truly frighten these men who will have no idea how to clean the ring afterwards.

Every time I think Japan is hot stuff, I am reminded that it still has a ways to go... to grow up.

Andrew Joseph

Cafe Fur Cats

Is this only in Japan? Probably. Though I bet someone in the USA starts one up soon.

Pussy lovers of world, unite!

Uh, scratch that... pussy cat lovers of the world, unite!

Because there's nothing a cat like more than going out with its owner for a coffee and a light snack, someone has created a new place to yowl... several of them in fact: The cat cafe.

Cat lovers can now spend time relaxing amongst their purr pals curled up beside them as they enjoy a steaming cup of joe... coffee, that is.

To be fair, the first cat cafe actually clawed in back in 1998 - in Taiwan. We here at Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife love pussy... cats but still we wonder if alcohol and a drunken bet may have been involved in the opening of the Taiwanese business.

But who knew? This has been a successful type of business, as a cat cafe opened up its pet doors in Osaka back in 2004.

Okay... it was kit-sch back then... but it really has caught on like a cat sitting on my chest sucking my breath. There are now 39 cat cafes in Tokyo alone. Thirty-nine. Just let that one sink in for a moment. Thirty-nine.

So... why start up a business like this? Well, according to Hanada Norimasa (surname first), for those renting an apartment in Japan, cats are not allowed. If you purchase a condominium - one for a family - then they are... otherwise, no pets. So... what is a young, single, lonely, pet-loving person to do? 

"This means that young, single-dwelling workers in their 20s and 30s can’t even think about getting any pets, despite the fact that they’re stressed out and are seeking comfort and companionship of some kind,” explains Hanada.

Handa knows what he is talking about, and decided to do a good deed and pull in a few yen as well. His Cat's Store (猫の店 Neko no Mise) in Tokyo is one of the most famous cat cafe's in all of Japan.

His (Hanada's) café offers 14 cats to the visitors (along with a selection of Japanese manga (comic) books, as well as standard cafe fare of tables, chairs, couches and scratching posts... though we are not sure about the scratching posts.

We are assuming that the cost of any food and drink is extra, but just to hang out at the cafe, the visitor is charged ~Cdn/US $1.50 for every 10 minutes, up to $21.50 for a three-hour period. It really is an indoor cat rental.

There are also niche cat cafe's for the discerning cat-lover likely to strut right by with their tale in the air at a common tabby white cat cafe, cat-ering to a  Black (cats) Only; Fat (cats); rare breeds or cats that were strays...

This blog has always found Russian Blues sexy...

As with any business, a cat cafe owner needs to get a business license and then obey all the rules and regulations regarding Japan's Animal Treatment/Protection Law. As well, cafe owners must ensure cleanliness... perhaps no open litter boxes... and have to ensure that the cats are not bothered by excessive attention, or are cool with kids. They must also be allowed their sleep time.

Really? You must allow a cat its sleep time? I have a cat... during the day, my cat sleeps about 21.47 hours a day! It's only awake at night to bite my toes while I sleep or to sit on my aforementioned chest to suck my breath and kill me.

Regardless, a cat cafe must also seek to promote cat awareness issues, such as abandoned and stray cats.

Your humble author applauds this cat-scratch fever initiative. I, unfortunately, while I do have a cat... it adopted me after I got married... I am allergic... especially to the real long-haired ones. A shaved pussy cat, however... I have no problem with that.

I'm unsure if I would pay to sit with a cat, however... I mean... you could just go behind the dumpster at a sushi restaurant and play with the cats there for free.

Cha Sun Hwa

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