It's Thursday, October 24, 1991. I'm an assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.
I've been here for 15 months and I know the ropes. I know how to do my job efficiently and effectively... it doesn't mean I do it well... just that I know how to appease the masses. That's not true. I'm well liked by the Japanese because I do my job - don't whine about it and have a personality they only often see on their television.
I think I throw them. I'm not unique by acting like this... my buddy Matthew does this too... however, I may be a little more out there... you know... out where the buses don't run...
Unlike Matthew... I'm starting to not LOOK like the average Westerner, rather than the good-two-shoes Westerner. Matthew for all of his playful weirdness... he always seemed to be like the goo-looking Richie Cunningham from Happy Days and Archie Andrews from the Archie comic books. Probably because he has strawberry blonde hair that borders on red. He looks pretty straight despite being bent.
Me... I'm like the beer bottle caps: formerly bent, now twisted. I've grown my hair... grow a beard when the urge hits me... and I've hit on anything in a skirt that looks like it will hit back... surprisingly enough... that's a lot of women here. Pretty good for a guy who back in Toronto couldn't get a woman to look at him if he was on fire. Well, guess what Canada? Guess who's on fire now? Hmmm... that still makes me look bad... okay... look at me now Canada - I'm on fire, but in a different way.
Ahhhh, effing ego. I'm trying to boink one woman, am interested in getting back with my ex (whom I still boink when we feel like it), and I'm boinking a Japanese lass who is crazy about me... only I fear she may be more than crazy about me... just plain crazy... which is too bad... I'd marry her.. but I don't think I want to be the husband of a crazy woman. Crazy in bed, sure... but... still... it's nice to have options...
Damn, I hope I have options.
It's an easy day at Chikasono Chu Gakko (Chikasono Junior High School). I have three classes all in the morning... eat lunch with the students for the second day in a row - ha! This is a first for me at this school! I thought I should be doing this all the time... let the kids know that gaijin (foreigners) are just like them, and aren't just boring old teachers!
Despite a pleasant day of chatting with the students through lunch and after... I feel really, really tired. Exhausted even.
I ask to go home early, arriving back at my 3-bedroom, L-D-K, apartment with the west and north balconies - and go to bed. By myself. To sleep.
Of course... I forget to unplug the telephone from the wall.
There are nine phone calls - five from fellow gaijin, and two from a Nihonjin (Japanese person)... how do I know... I don't have an answering machine (hate'em!) and there's no such thing as call display here in Japan. Well, y'see... when a foreigner calls say... anybody... they let the phone ring seven or eight times tops! A Japanese person... that bugger will let it ring over 20 times.
It's true! My place is huge by Japanese standards... and hell, I think it's huge by Canadian standards... but how long do they think it would take for me to move from one room to another to answer the phone? I'm not slow. And... if I'm busy... I'm busy... stop bloody ringing!
Anyhow... I finally get up to answer the 10th caller. It's Matthew. He's a bit of an anomaly, as mentioned earlier. I think he's turning Japanese (I really think so). That bugger rang my phone 11 times! before I answered it. I was in the washroom... and I didn't hear the phone.
Anyhow.. after chatting for 16 seconds (or about 4 rings of the phone), we end our conversation amicably so that I can go back to sleep... which I do until 10PM.
I get up, eat some food, go to bed and then race back to the washroom.
I feel sick! I never get sick! What the heck is going on here?
Somewhere driving the porcelain bus,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Band:
I've been here for 15 months and I know the ropes. I know how to do my job efficiently and effectively... it doesn't mean I do it well... just that I know how to appease the masses. That's not true. I'm well liked by the Japanese because I do my job - don't whine about it and have a personality they only often see on their television.
I think I throw them. I'm not unique by acting like this... my buddy Matthew does this too... however, I may be a little more out there... you know... out where the buses don't run...
Unlike Matthew... I'm starting to not LOOK like the average Westerner, rather than the good-two-shoes Westerner. Matthew for all of his playful weirdness... he always seemed to be like the goo-looking Richie Cunningham from Happy Days and Archie Andrews from the Archie comic books. Probably because he has strawberry blonde hair that borders on red. He looks pretty straight despite being bent.
Me... I'm like the beer bottle caps: formerly bent, now twisted. I've grown my hair... grow a beard when the urge hits me... and I've hit on anything in a skirt that looks like it will hit back... surprisingly enough... that's a lot of women here. Pretty good for a guy who back in Toronto couldn't get a woman to look at him if he was on fire. Well, guess what Canada? Guess who's on fire now? Hmmm... that still makes me look bad... okay... look at me now Canada - I'm on fire, but in a different way.
Ahhhh, effing ego. I'm trying to boink one woman, am interested in getting back with my ex (whom I still boink when we feel like it), and I'm boinking a Japanese lass who is crazy about me... only I fear she may be more than crazy about me... just plain crazy... which is too bad... I'd marry her.. but I don't think I want to be the husband of a crazy woman. Crazy in bed, sure... but... still... it's nice to have options...
Damn, I hope I have options.
It's an easy day at Chikasono Chu Gakko (Chikasono Junior High School). I have three classes all in the morning... eat lunch with the students for the second day in a row - ha! This is a first for me at this school! I thought I should be doing this all the time... let the kids know that gaijin (foreigners) are just like them, and aren't just boring old teachers!
Despite a pleasant day of chatting with the students through lunch and after... I feel really, really tired. Exhausted even.
I ask to go home early, arriving back at my 3-bedroom, L-D-K, apartment with the west and north balconies - and go to bed. By myself. To sleep.
Of course... I forget to unplug the telephone from the wall.
There are nine phone calls - five from fellow gaijin, and two from a Nihonjin (Japanese person)... how do I know... I don't have an answering machine (hate'em!) and there's no such thing as call display here in Japan. Well, y'see... when a foreigner calls say... anybody... they let the phone ring seven or eight times tops! A Japanese person... that bugger will let it ring over 20 times.
It's true! My place is huge by Japanese standards... and hell, I think it's huge by Canadian standards... but how long do they think it would take for me to move from one room to another to answer the phone? I'm not slow. And... if I'm busy... I'm busy... stop bloody ringing!
Anyhow... I finally get up to answer the 10th caller. It's Matthew. He's a bit of an anomaly, as mentioned earlier. I think he's turning Japanese (I really think so). That bugger rang my phone 11 times! before I answered it. I was in the washroom... and I didn't hear the phone.
Anyhow.. after chatting for 16 seconds (or about 4 rings of the phone), we end our conversation amicably so that I can go back to sleep... which I do until 10PM.
I get up, eat some food, go to bed and then race back to the washroom.
I feel sick! I never get sick! What the heck is going on here?
Somewhere driving the porcelain bus,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Band:
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