Clickety-clack... the roller coaster has reached the top and has reached the apex and is perched precariously.
Today is Friday, November 1, 1991. In eight more days I'll be 27-years-old.
I was a virgin in body only until about 15 months ago when I arrived here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochichi-ken, Japan as a junior high school assistant English teacher (AET) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.
It's that lack of experience with women, which is the important factor here as I have been able to handle every single thing Japan has tossed my way. It's just relationships with women which have been tricky.
Not impossible, mind you, but maybe the one I am hung-up on was just to young (23) to know what she wanted yet from life. I know I didn't when I was Ashley's age.
Along with my teaching duties--all seven junior highs in this city, visited once per week that I team-teach with a JTE (Japanese teacher of English) owing to my lack of Japanese language skills--I also am the editor of the prefectural JET newsletter, which I have turned from less of an information based magazine (still plenty of that) to one that is fun to read with lots of stories (in English) to entertain people. It's what I like to do.
It's not as glamorous as I thought it would be, despite having fun creating covers and writing a lot of short stories.
I photocopy some 55, 36-page Tatami Times for my fellow AETs here in Tochigi-ken while I am here at the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) office where I usually spend a Friday writing up a brief report on the week's activity at school. It takes all day, but I am done.
After work, there is an enkai (a party) to celebrate Kanemaru-san's 20th year as a civil servant and Iso-san's 30th year in this same office. At first I questioned their ambition, but I quickly remembered that the Japanese tend to get a job and hold it for life.
That doesn't sound so bad (especially when back in Toronto people are losing their jobs due to the recession that is just starting).
Kanemaru-san (Mister Kanemaru) is one of my two bosses here in Japan. He's also my friend. He and Hanazaki-san have gone what I feel is above and beyond their work duty to make sure that I am comfortable and happy and safe here in Japan... to make sure I have a wonderful rife. Each, I have noticed, has always taken the time to correct other Japanese people who come up and talk to them about me... making sure each knows that I am NOT a gaijin (foreigner), but that I am An-do-ryu-sensei (Andrew teacher). It means a lot that they care enough to do that, even though I don't take any insult at being called a gaijin. I know it's a type of ignorance and is not borne out of any hatred or implied insult.
Hey... it's my job here to internationalize... to help as many people in this country get used to people not Japanese. I think I'm doing alright with the Japanese. My problems are more with the stupid gaijin here.
Mrs Iso... she's a dear sweet lady who always has a smile on her face and I love to death... I wish we could communicate better.
I give Kanemaru-san an Inuit soap stone sculpture of a wold on his haunches howling. It reminds me of him, especially when I watch him at our kyudo (Japanese archery) lesson... alone and strong.
To Iso-san (Mrs. Iso), I give a plaque with pressed Canadian flowers on it. Here's some advice folks... when going to live in Japan for a while, bring plenty of gifts from your home country to present to folks who have been kind or helpful to you. Plenty!!!! I'd also suggest coins, stamps and pins, tie pins as well as small gifts. People love to have something from a country they may never get to visit. I think.
At the party, there is plenty of drinking. I just take small sips for perhaps the first time in my life, with the express purpose of not getting hammered. There's also lots of eating. I really do beg off on the heavy drinking I have become infamous for here in Japan. I say I am sick still. Which may or may not be incorrect.
Crap! (I actually wrote a word that rhymes with 'luck') I spilled a bottle of sake (Japanese rice wine) on Superintendent Fukasawa's coat. Thank-god he wasn't wearing it at the time.
I didn't know it until now... but it was his birthday today. I tell him I have something for him, but I did forget it at home. I'm telling ya - always have something in reserve! In this it case, I'm thinking a bottle of whiskey reserve. Scraping the the bottom of the barrel this way is actually a goof thing.
Kanemaru-san and I bond some more over his heavy drinking. He is like a second father to me here. He even does a karaoke song and says it is for his good friend An-do-ryu.
Finally! Someone who is a bad singer!!!
When he's done, they want me to sing. The closest thing they have at this bar is 'My Way' the old Frank Sinatra/Sex Pistols song. Guess which version I know?
Anyhow... it's all moot as there are no English words on the karaoke machine. Whew!
The party is over at 8PM, and I walk the four minutes over to my apartment.
Ashley is asleep in my bed. I let her sleep until 8:30PM, wake her up, make her some eggs and bacon and watch La Bamba before we go to sleep. Just sleep. And that's fine by me.
Somewhere enjoying the view from the top,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by the Sex Pistols, of course. I have always loved the Sex Pistols and Dead Kennedy's - and always respected the punk bands for doing things not the way people expected them to do things. I never walked the walk or talked the talk or dressed the dress... but I liked how the music screamed at me. Just call me a suburban punk. It's what I called myself.I heard that phrase on the classic movie Repo Man.
Today is Friday, November 1, 1991. In eight more days I'll be 27-years-old.
I was a virgin in body only until about 15 months ago when I arrived here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochichi-ken, Japan as a junior high school assistant English teacher (AET) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.
It's that lack of experience with women, which is the important factor here as I have been able to handle every single thing Japan has tossed my way. It's just relationships with women which have been tricky.
Not impossible, mind you, but maybe the one I am hung-up on was just to young (23) to know what she wanted yet from life. I know I didn't when I was Ashley's age.
Along with my teaching duties--all seven junior highs in this city, visited once per week that I team-teach with a JTE (Japanese teacher of English) owing to my lack of Japanese language skills--I also am the editor of the prefectural JET newsletter, which I have turned from less of an information based magazine (still plenty of that) to one that is fun to read with lots of stories (in English) to entertain people. It's what I like to do.
It's not as glamorous as I thought it would be, despite having fun creating covers and writing a lot of short stories.
I photocopy some 55, 36-page Tatami Times for my fellow AETs here in Tochigi-ken while I am here at the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) office where I usually spend a Friday writing up a brief report on the week's activity at school. It takes all day, but I am done.
After work, there is an enkai (a party) to celebrate Kanemaru-san's 20th year as a civil servant and Iso-san's 30th year in this same office. At first I questioned their ambition, but I quickly remembered that the Japanese tend to get a job and hold it for life.
That doesn't sound so bad (especially when back in Toronto people are losing their jobs due to the recession that is just starting).
Kanemaru-san (Mister Kanemaru) is one of my two bosses here in Japan. He's also my friend. He and Hanazaki-san have gone what I feel is above and beyond their work duty to make sure that I am comfortable and happy and safe here in Japan... to make sure I have a wonderful rife. Each, I have noticed, has always taken the time to correct other Japanese people who come up and talk to them about me... making sure each knows that I am NOT a gaijin (foreigner), but that I am An-do-ryu-sensei (Andrew teacher). It means a lot that they care enough to do that, even though I don't take any insult at being called a gaijin. I know it's a type of ignorance and is not borne out of any hatred or implied insult.
Hey... it's my job here to internationalize... to help as many people in this country get used to people not Japanese. I think I'm doing alright with the Japanese. My problems are more with the stupid gaijin here.
Mrs Iso... she's a dear sweet lady who always has a smile on her face and I love to death... I wish we could communicate better.
I give Kanemaru-san an Inuit soap stone sculpture of a wold on his haunches howling. It reminds me of him, especially when I watch him at our kyudo (Japanese archery) lesson... alone and strong.
To Iso-san (Mrs. Iso), I give a plaque with pressed Canadian flowers on it. Here's some advice folks... when going to live in Japan for a while, bring plenty of gifts from your home country to present to folks who have been kind or helpful to you. Plenty!!!! I'd also suggest coins, stamps and pins, tie pins as well as small gifts. People love to have something from a country they may never get to visit. I think.
At the party, there is plenty of drinking. I just take small sips for perhaps the first time in my life, with the express purpose of not getting hammered. There's also lots of eating. I really do beg off on the heavy drinking I have become infamous for here in Japan. I say I am sick still. Which may or may not be incorrect.
Crap! (I actually wrote a word that rhymes with 'luck') I spilled a bottle of sake (Japanese rice wine) on Superintendent Fukasawa's coat. Thank-god he wasn't wearing it at the time.
I didn't know it until now... but it was his birthday today. I tell him I have something for him, but I did forget it at home. I'm telling ya - always have something in reserve! In this it case, I'm thinking a bottle of whiskey reserve. Scraping the the bottom of the barrel this way is actually a goof thing.
Kanemaru-san and I bond some more over his heavy drinking. He is like a second father to me here. He even does a karaoke song and says it is for his good friend An-do-ryu.
Finally! Someone who is a bad singer!!!
When he's done, they want me to sing. The closest thing they have at this bar is 'My Way' the old Frank Sinatra/Sex Pistols song. Guess which version I know?
Anyhow... it's all moot as there are no English words on the karaoke machine. Whew!
The party is over at 8PM, and I walk the four minutes over to my apartment.
Ashley is asleep in my bed. I let her sleep until 8:30PM, wake her up, make her some eggs and bacon and watch La Bamba before we go to sleep. Just sleep. And that's fine by me.
Somewhere enjoying the view from the top,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by the Sex Pistols, of course. I have always loved the Sex Pistols and Dead Kennedy's - and always respected the punk bands for doing things not the way people expected them to do things. I never walked the walk or talked the talk or dressed the dress... but I liked how the music screamed at me. Just call me a suburban punk. It's what I called myself.I heard that phrase on the classic movie Repo Man.
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