As many of you know by now, I’ll be returning home shortly for the first time since I moved to Japan a year ago. The first things I want to eat when I get back include Five Guys and Buddy’s pizza. I haven’t decided what my second meal will be, yet. Either way, I’m gonna find all that weight I’ve lost in the past year. I know many people will ask me, “How’s Japan?” and I will say, “楽しかったよ” to mess with them, then I’ll say “Good.” Not because I’m trying to be an asshole, but because how was the last whole year of your life? If the question is vague, the answer is vague. That’s how it goes. Also I’ll be tired. However, feel free to ask more specific questions, and I will be glad to answer them. Unless there’s a Pokémon nearby, in which case I’ll ask you to wait. Also, if I hear someone complain about humidity, I might impulsively slap them in the mouth. See you soon!

As I end my first year in Japan on JET, I’ve been looking back on the past year. A year ago I knew only what my predecessor had told me, a few pages that became my bible when I came here. A brief summary of what my schools were like and how to get there, as well as a little bit of information about where I’d live. I had a long list of people whose names I knew, but not much else. There was really no way to expect anything.

Once I got here, everything was different. I was thrown into my new life. The excitement of all the new things helped me push through all the uncertainty. We had orientation, and within the week went to our new schools, where most of us could hardly speak to anyone. I moved into my new apartment, and learned that not all countries have central heating/cooling. It’s strange moving into a new place. You know that this is where you’ll be for the next year or few years, but at first it’s just a hotel, or someone else’s house that you just happen to be staying at. One of the main ways that I know I consider a place home is when I can make it from my bed to my bathroom blindfolded (which I often do when it’s too bright in the morning and I wake up too early), and even navigate around everything on the floor (only those who have seen one of my rooms understand this challenge. Like a reverse “the floor is lava”). Hopefully I’ll have a video of it soon. Even my eating habits completely changed (though not necessarily improved health-wise) due to what was and wasn’t available here. I never thought I’d willingly eat white rice, let alone have it a few days a week (admittedly usually with gyudon sauce).

As I’ve mentioned before (I think), my brain tends to completely shift modes when I move to a new place or start something new. There’s an almost immediate acceptance of “this is how it is now” that I’ve built up over the years now. It’s like a dream. You just kind of accept the circumstances you’re in as if it’s always been that way. “Of course it’s normal that I have telekinetic powers and hang out with Jon Snow while living in my childhood house that’s filled with Pokémon.” In kindergarten, when asked what wish I would want granted by a genie, I just wanted the furniture to go back to how it was. It would sicken me to know how many times I’ve rearranged my new room, trying to find the perfect feng shui (read: optimal space for playing Smash). While I still hate things changing, I seem to have altered what constitutes as real change. Moving to Japan wasn’t everything changing, it was playing a different game. While playing this new game, the old one only exists as small Easter eggs and cameos. One day I’m sure there will be a sequel to the first game, but it’s hard to tell which characters from the original will show up. (Do you understand now why video games are perfect analogies for everything?)

Which brings me to my trip back home. If we continue with my video game analogy, my trip home is DLC (Downloadable content): an expansion for a previous game. The strange part will be realizing that the game kept going even though I wasn’t playing. I told a friend here that they basically won’t exist while I’m away because they’re in a different game. At first mildly offended, they understood what I meant, and possibly wondered if I’m autistic as people do from time to time. The most interesting thing about my return home is that while I’m gone, there will be a big reset here. At least a dozen or so people that I know throughout Mie will die return to their countries, and be replaced with identical androids new people. Most of them I don’t care about, but some I’ll miss. Or not. Who knows. (If you’re reading this and leaving, I’ll totally miss you. ) My role will evolve from a newbie to a senpai (upperclassman), and I’ll be partly responsible for passing down the teachings that my senpais taught me (such as to never go to that shadowy place). I remember when I first got here, wondering how they seemed to know so much. I now understand that they had the basics down, but were just good at faking everything else. Then in a year, the cycle will repeat. People will leave, tears will be shed, parties will be had, new people will come, then more parties, then repeat. One day I will leave, and my successor will be trained by someone I trained. It’s the circle of JET, and obviously it moves us all.

Luckily, my schools won’t change, and my students will return for their second semester in September, so at least that will stay consistent. Until then, I’ll either be on vacation, or sitting at my desk doing nothing while trying my best not to lose my will to live.

What will I do in America? Am I gonna have to be a different man? How’s Japan? Find out on the next episode of the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

The next morning Maki and I headed to the station to get breakfast before we all went to Ayutthaya, a city north of Bangkok. We couldn’t really find anywhere, so we got food from 7-Eleven (remember, it’s edible here) and I got some Dunkin’ Donuts (none in Japan). While we were waiting in the hot, dirty station, a cat walked by under the seats in front of us, turned around, and sprayed the bag with our food. Yes. Sprayed. This is why I hate cats. Outside we found someone who was helping people find transportation. Apparently it was a holiday and a weekend, so the train we planned on taking wasn’t running until way later. Instead she told us we could rent a taxi for the day for 600฿ ($18 (I got so good at multiplying by 3)). That was when we met Mr. Boy. Mr. Boy was the actual name on his business card, which he got from his love of cowboys. He was wearing cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, and a shirt with a cowboy, and even had a cowboy decal on the back of his truck. The six of us (including Mr. Boy) got in and set out for the almost two-hour trip to Ayutthaya.

I wish I had known a little more about the history of Thailand and Ayutthaya so that I could say, “This was the palace of the great Prince Abubu who defeated the Gerudo in 151AD,” rather than just “this place looks pretty sweet.” Alas, I know less than Jon Snow (spoiler: he knows nothing), so you’ll have to Google it if you really care (I don’t have Internet now, so I can’t. Also I’m lazy). Mr. Boy was our tour guide in as much as he’d take us to a temple or ruins and tell us to find him in the parking lot when we were done and he’d take us to the next place (very helpful, just not informative). The first place we went to was a giant temple with an ice cream cone on top surrounded by smaller but still huge ice cream cones (see what happens when I don’t know things?). At the top of the really steep stairs was a room with six or seven gold Buddhas sitting around. For a small donation, you got a special gold flake that you could stick to one of the Buddhas and receive a wish or good luck or something. Next to the temple was a small shrine with little statues and three… Doraemon (Japanese kids cartoon)? I was not aware that Buddhists worshiped a robotic earless cat from the future, though it would make sense because that pouch is godlike. In a different area, there was one of the famous reclining Buddha’s. For those who are unaware, there are a few giant statues of Buddha in his “draw me like one of your French girls pose” around Bangkok. This one was made out of stone as opposed to the other gold/bronze ones. When exiting one of the temples, two monks walked in followed by about a dozen kids who all seemed to be in training to become monks (or airbenders), with shaved heads and the orange robes. I never knew kids that young did that kind of stuff, so it was really interesting.

After viewing some temples, we were taken to an animal area. As soon as we got out, we saw elephants walking by, one accompanied by her baby. There were three elephant tours available: 30min, 1hr, or 3hrs. We stuck with the 30 minute one. We walked by some sheep and dogs to a room where they had a tiger that you could take your picture with. I felt kind of bad for it, because it was likely drugged out of its mind, though according to some of my friends, that’s really fun. I looked at it the same way I look at eating meat. They’ve already killed the animal and made it into this delicious bacon. If I don’t eat it, someone else will, and me not eating it isn’t going to stop them from making more bacon (though I’m sure there’s been a surplus since I left the country). They make you pose with Rajah by basically lying on top of him. The guy taking the pictures shouted, “One, two, four!” and then took pictures at really weird angles. Like a chimp. While lying on him, I remembered that I’m probably allergic to tigers (never say you’re allergic to cats, say you’re allergic to lions or tigers, it sounds cooler), so I had to be careful not to touch my face to prevent my eyes from getting red and swollen. That’s the real danger. Once our pictures with Shere Khan were done, we went to ride the heffalumps. I apologized in advance for singing Prince Ali for half an hour straight, but it couldn’t be helped. The “driver” sat on Dumbo’s neck, while Maki and I sat in a little seat on its back. He took us to walk around some ruins, then after a while, got off and let me ride on its neck (I felt bad he never let Maki, though). It was surprisingly hard to stay on because of how much its neck muscles moved. One of the other drivers even started singing the Japanese elephant song, which apparently is a thing. I’m assuming he picked it up from all the Japanese tourists who come through. We even got commemorative pictures for free* (included in the price of admission).

For lunch, Mr. Boy took us to a little restaurant on the river. We wondered if it was a really good restaurant, or if he made commissions from it. I got some pork with roasted garlic that was really good. It was slightly expensive buy Thai standards, but the main problem was they didn’t seem to understand the concept of cooking the food so it mostly comes out at the same time. The first wave had most of it except mine and Maki’s. Eventually mine came, but by the time Maki’s came, everyone had finished eating. She didn’t even get anything that complex. At previous restaurants, Maki had ordered something only to be told it was all out. There seemed to be a conspiracy against her. We saw some cool longboats go by, some carrying people, others carrying dirt or sand. You wouldn’t think that’s something you need to transport that far, but whatever. The last place we went to was a temple surrounded by Chedi, which were octagonal pagodas built with four layers, each decorated with a different façade, with the fourth layer being decorated with mini pagodas in alternation with Brahma stucco. Totally awesome, right? There was also a Buddha head that was eaten by surrounded by a tree’s roots. Because it was still the remains of a Buddha, you weren’t allowed to take pictures with you above the face because that’s disrespectful. This temple had even steeper stairs that tested the remains of our leg strength. We struggled and climbed to the top where there was absolutely nothing. Actually, there was a small gold thing in the back face, and the view was cool, but we were tired. There was another set of ruins nearby, which seemed pretty cool, except that it was kind of ruined by the scaffolding surrounding it.

Once we had seen all the cool stuff in Ayutthaya, we headed back to Bangkok for dinner. We went to a pad Thai place that had a huge line out the door and people cooking various meals over the fires outside. The cooks were very efficient, so the line moved really quickly. I wasn’t that hungry, but had a new kind of orange juice there. Imagine orange juice with medium pulp, except all that pulp is actually bits of orange. Also you drink it through a thick straw, so sometimes they just pop up. It was interesting. We found out that they had Uber in Bangkok, so we used that to get to and from the restaurant. However, on the way home, there was some miscommunication about where the hotel was. Luckily we weren’t too far away by the time we noticed.

For our last day, we decided to go and see the floating market. It was quite a distance away, so we asked Mr. Boy to take us again. However, we were up to having 8 of us (not including Mr. Boy), so the truck was a little more cramped this time around. When he picked us up, he wasn’t dressed in his previous cowboy attire. We asked him why not, and he just said it was too hot. We left at around 9 and got there about an hour and a half later. The floating market is a series of small, mostly souvenir shops along a channel that branches in a few areas. Rather than walking around (which you can do at some shops (though we couldn’t)), you get in a long boat and the guide takes you down the river, going from side to side to take you to look at everything. We were told to split into two boats even though we clearly would have fit in one. If you accidentally point at something, he’ll take you there (or the shopkeeper will pull the boat over with one of their hooks). There was a lot of really interesting stuff, however a lot of it was just too big to bring back to Japan. The other problem was that the whole thing is a bartering system. They give you a ridiculous price, and you have to tell them what you’ll actually pay. The problem was that we didn’t know how much over the prices were, so even when we bartered, it likely wasn’t in our favor. At least they were open to the bartering. It wasn’t like Mexico where you go to barter and they just say “screw you,” even though they’re clearly overcharging you. In every case I saw, they accepted the counteroffer. It’s an interesting game because they think they’re ripping you off, but everything is so cheap anyway that you feel like you’re ripping them off. Unfortunately, by this point I was basically out of cash, so I had to be careful to make sure it would last me the rest of the day. One lady was selling cool shot glasses with a “gold” design wrapped around them. I asked how much for a pack of two. She said ฿800. I said ฿500. After a minute she relented. Later that day we were at a different shop and I saw them again. Out of curiosity, I asked how much again. ฿350. Dammit…

While traveling in Thailand, I kept finding myself wondering, “What are these people’s lives?” Everything is so different from anywhere I’ve ever lived that I can’t even comprehend it. It wasn’t like how you picture Saharan Africa or anything, with a seeming lack of most modern conveniences. Most people had smartphones, and a few kids were playing Minecraft on their iPads, but their jobs and lives largely seemed to be just hanging out on this river selling things (mostly to foreigners). A few of the people who were just hanging out in the shops or on the boats were carrying various exotic animals, too. Some guys had massive snakes wrapped around them, and a few even had slow lorises, which are like tarsiers or Furbies. After passing all of the shops, we were taken to a nearby temple to look around a bit. There was another group of golden statues which you could place gold flakes on, but this time we got a few of them for free (we didn’t bother doing it last time because we didn’t want to pay). On the way out there was a gift shop monk selling magically  delicious lucky charms that were said to bring health, money, or good grades (or something like that).

We headed back to the docks and met up with Mr. Boy, who was going to take us to the Grand Palace, as well as two other famous temples. We got back around 2:00, which gave us about an hour to look around the Grand Palace before it closed at 3:00… or would have had it not been a holiday and closed at 12:00. Instead we went to the other temple, Wat Pho (Po like the Teletubby, not 4 in Ebonics). Built by King Rama I (whose ashes are still there), Wat Pho is best known for its giant Bronze reclining Buddha (I think it’s the third biggest one). It’s 50ft. tall (15m) and 150ft. (46m) long. Because the room is so tight, however, it’s hard to get a decent picture of it. Originally built about 300 years ago, it’s gone under many restorations. Wat Pho is currently the first of six temples classed as the highest grade of the first-class royal temples (as seemingly described by Trump (go ahead, reread that in his voice)). It’s also known as the birthplace of Thai massage, which is still taught and practiced there.

For lunch we went to a small diner across the street, and by small I mean we took up half of it. In keeping with tradition, Maki’s food came out after everyone else was basically finished despite only ordering fried rice (I tried to wait, but it took too long). Once we had finished, we headed to the final temple: Wat Arun, the Temple of Dawn, better known as Wat Arun Ratchawararam Ratchawaramahawihan. On travel sites, Wat Arun is listed as one of the top places to go along with the palace and the floating market. On travel sites, pictures of Wat Arun also don’t have scaffolding built around the whole thing. I’m not sure why they picked now to do all the construction since it seems to be one of the most popular times (especially with the huge influx of Japanese who come for Golden Week). Also, Mr. Boy said that most of the month is a series of holidays, so who knows when it’ll actually get done. The area around it was still really nice, though, as well as the insides. Named after the Hindu god Aruna, personified as the radiations of the rising sun, Wat Arun is for the way the morning light reflects off the surface with “pearly iridescence.” (I love being able to plagiarize Wikipedia without anyone caring.) Like Wat Pho, Wat Arun was built and restored by the various King Ramas (I, II, III, and Lamadingdong).

After bidding farewell to Mr. Boy, Maki and I finished packing, then got picked up at 8 for our midnight flight (sounds fun, doesn’t it?). The taxi driver (who was the same from before) asked us if we went to the floating market. I hesitantly said yes. Then he asked why I didn’t call him. I said we had too many people. He argued that he had a big van. He was legitimately angry about it. Even when I tipped him at the airport, he took the money with a big scowl on his face. Get over it. Since we hadn’t had much dinner, I knew there wouldn’t be anything good on the plane, and we had time to kill, we looked for a food court near our gate. We found an area with a Burger King, Subway, pizza place, Thai food, and one or two others. I couldn’t decide between BK and pizza until I remembered the words of a young girl who saved her village: “¿Por qué no los dos?” [Why not both?]. It was magical. I miss real American pizza so much it hurts sometimes. Finally, we headed to the gate and got on our six-hour midnight flight, which I knew would be a problem due to my inability to fall asleep on planes. After a movie or two, and trying every sleeping position possible in the cramped middle seat, I was finally able to get around two hours of sleep by using the tray as a desk. We got back around 8:00, and I headed to the ferry that goes straight from the airport to Tsu. When I get there, I see a sign on the door that says they ferries are canceled (one every hour, taking about 45min.). I go inside and ask about it. The lady told me that because of a storm, the ferries won’t start until 10. I looked outside and couldn’t find a single cloud in the sky. Instead of waiting, I just took the express train up to Nagoya and back down to Tsu (which took about twice as long), got home, and passed out for the rest of the day, happy that the next day was another national holiday.

As always, you can view the full photo album here.

Next week I return to Disney to celebrate the 15^th anniversary (last time I only celebrated Easter). However, I doubt much has changed, so instead we’ll take a look at the many changes that have occurred elsewhere during the spring. Especially at my job (despite how it seems, I still do that from time to time). How much work do I actually do? What kinds of changes? How many times am I gonna go to Disney? Find out next time on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

The first week of May is called Golden Week in Japan. This is because there are three national holidays in a row (as well as no school the Friday before). The only one people seem to remember is 5/5: Children’s Day. This year those days were from Tuesday to Thursday, but for some reason people actually went to school both the Monday before and the Friday after. I am not one of those people. I took Monday off to go on a trip to Thailand, where the only thing hotter than the weather is some of the boys. Trivia time! What’s the capital of Thailand? If you’re a male who ever went to school, you probably just instinctively covered your crotch. Good reflexes. The rest of you were likely not taught it as effectively, though Thailand basically only has two famous cities: the one that sounds like the (male) c word, and the one that sounds like the f word. I’ve honestly never had any desire to go to Thailand, but some other people said we should go, so I figured I might as well check it out.

When searching for flights form Nagoya to Bangkok, you’re given some interesting options. The quickest option is the direct flight, which was a bit more expensive, but only took 6 hours. Some of the other listed options took over 24 hours. Why are you even giving me that choice? Who needs to save money so badly that they’re going to take a layover that’s three times longer than the actual flight (if you just tried to correct me by saying it’s four times longer, you forgot to subtract the flight time)? Most other options were around 9-10 hours, but left at ungodly hours in the morning. We took the financial hit for the sake of comfort and sleep. Maki and I left around 11 and got there at about 3 (2hr difference). We went to information to find out the best way to get to the hotel. They said we could take an airport taxi at a flat rate of 1400 baht (<$40), or a public taxi and have to pay tolls. It was a matter of who would rip me off less. I decided to try the airport taxi. They also offered to pick us up from the hotel when we came back, which I liked because then I wouldn’t have to deal with it. Then they also tried selling us city tours. I had read about this, so I knew to watch out for the foot-in-the-door style stuff where they keep trying to sell us things. Our driver was an older man with a long beard. Now, you’re either picturing a long Dumbledore-esque beard, or one like mine but longer. However, his beard was only growing out of a giant mole on his chin. It looked like something you’d expect from a cartoon character. On the way to the hotel, he asked us when we were going back. We showed him the paper that said Wednesday. He then proceeded to tell us, “Don’t call company. If you call me, I give you discount. 1000 baht ($30).” I was glad that I didn’t have to worry much about him ripping me off because he was too busy ripping off his own company. We had already gotten the ticket back, so it didn’t matter anyway. Then he asked what we were doing, gave us his number, and told us to call him if we needed a ride. This was a better method than a taxi driver in Florida who asked me for my number, then got annoyed when I didn’t give it to him. Why the hell would I give a random taxi driver my personal phone number?

One of the first things we noticed was how much hotter it was here (almost 100°). Luckily, unlike Japan’s humid heat, Thailand is a lot drier and therefore more tolerable. The other thing was how much more colorful everything is. The taxis were mostly pink or yellow and green, the tuktuks driving around were decorated with all sorts of things, and the streets were littered with colorful shrines and food stands. I was also surprised at the amount of English on their billboards considering no one seems to really speak English here. However, their English is better than my Thai. Curtis can’t talk Thai (unlike Jack. Jack talked Thai real good). I looked it up a bit, but it’s too tonal. As we got closer to the hotel, there were more and more streets with food vendors, kids playing soccer on old basketball courts, and people just lounging outside of run down shops. It felt like an Asian Mexico rather than a big city.

We got to our hotel, which bore the unfortunate name of The Twin Towers. Our friends who came later were staying at a nearby hostel, but a Bangkok hostel did not sound appealing to me. The hotel room was pretty big (and super cheap because Thailand), and had wooden floors, which I’ve never seen in a normal hotel room. The AC was on full blast, which would be a good change from the sweltering heat outside. The one thing our room was missing was a safe. Instead of a room safe, there were two rooms with safety deposit boxes next to the lobby. You had to ring a doorbell, then wait for them to buzz you in. Then they’d give you a box to put your valuables in (so my 3DS and tablet (I had to keep my passport on me)). They also had the cheapest room service I had ever seen. It was cheaper than the food would be at a lot of normal restaurants. They had some Thai food, some Japanese food, and some American food, including a hamburger with “Your favorite toppings: bacon and eggs.” What? What weirdo puts eggs on a hamburger? Maki said a lot of people do it. I told her those people are wrong. By the time we got checked in and settled, it was getting late (by Japan time), so we just ordered room service and watched TV (which included hilarious Thai versions of Spongebob and the Fairly Oddparents).

The next morning, we headed out to check out the local malls and street vendors. As soon as you step out of the hotel, tuktuk drivers flock to you like seagulls fighting over a French fry. “Where you go?” “I take you! 100 baht (<$3)” One of Maki’s main goals was to ride in a tuktuk, so we got in and he took us to the mall. Leading up to the mall, we looked at some of the food that people were selling. Now, I’m not usually that germaphobic. However, a lot of the food they were cooking didn’t look sanitary. In some cases, there were flies buzzing around, and a lot of the food just seemed like colored goop. I’ve gotten a lot better about eating, but I’m not quite that adventurous. We got to the sidewalk outside the mall, where they checked our bags. Just outside was a cool little shrine and a big painted metal elephant. Once we got inside, they checked our bags again. They can check our bags as many times as they want, because it means they’re checking everyone else’s. Despite what Nicolas Cage may have you believe, Bangkok doesn’t seem particularly dangerous. However, there had been some attacks there last year, so better safe than sorry. The first mall we went to was very Westernized. They had Gap, North Face, H&M, even an Auntie Anne’s: the same stores you’d expect at most American malls. For brunch, we went to a pancake place where you could choose from a bunch of options to make almost any kind of pancake you wanted. You chose the type (buttermilk, chocolate chip, 5 others I stopped reading after chocolate chip), what fruit you wanted, what ice cream on top, what secondary topping (chocolate chips, nuts, etc.), and whipped cream or whipped butter. I got a chocolate chip pancake with more chocolate chips, strawberries, strawberry ice cream, and whipped cream. My only regret was not getting enough pancakes. Downstairs there was a “Chocoholics Convention” going on. There were people making their own chocolate, fondue fountains, sculptures made out of chocolate, and tables where I’m assuming people discussed in groups how their chocolate addiction is slowly tearing their family apart.

We took the Skywalk, which is just a fancy name for a bridge that goes along the street, to the next mall supercenter that was a little more Thaiish. We looked around the supermarket, which had tons of weird fruits and packages I couldn’t read. I found some Reese’s, which I’m required to buy any time I see due to them being unavailable in Japan. They even had root beer! Japanese people notoriously hate root beer, and Korea didn’t have it either. It would have been even more joyous had I not ordered two packs from Amazon a month ago. Either way, I’ve missed it. The third mall had a big store filled with Thai decorations like carpets (none magic), golden elephants, a sequin Pegasus, a tiger whose stomach was a geode and a fat lady doing yoga. There was also a chandelier store. I have no idea who’s buying a chandelier for their Bangkok apartment, but it was there. They even had some cars on display on the third floor. I have no idea how they got up there. In a connected building, there was an aquarium, but there was an hour and a half wait just to get in, so we didn’t bother. All around the mall there were statues of famous people like Tom Cruise, Predator, Spider-Man, and various other heroes (I took this sexy pic with Catwoman). Apparently there was a Madame Tussauds museum nearby, which explained that. Across a little plaza was another mall. It was one of the strangest places I’ve ever been. As soon as you walk in, there’s two kind of robotic statues where the male had a lightbulb penis, and the woman had two lightbulb boobs (as they do in the future). Down the hall were mannequins with weird colored animal heads, and others that were Daft Punk-esque baby heads. The clothes were all sorts of crazy patterns and things you can’t imagine anyone would wear in public. One store even had boob checkers. The mens/womens symbols for the bathroom were really weird, too.

Later that day, a few of the others arrived and after checking into their hostel, we all went out to dinner. We asked the lady working there if she had any recommendations for famous Thai drinks. She said they like Pepsi. Her other recommendation was a coconut drink. Then we asked for a dinner place, and she told us there were a few good restaurants at the nearby mall (different one). Mall food wasn’t exactly the Thai food we had in mind, but we went to check it out. This mall was much less Westernized, and in addition to normal stores, just had big areas with similar products placed together. The placement of the escalators required you to move to a different area every other floor (smart but inefficient), more like a video game than a mall. Once we got to the right floor, we had to walk through a forest of full coat racks and tiny shops to get to the restaurants. After looking around, we settled on the food court area that had a lot of different food options, Thai and otherwise. I had a traditional Thai food called Smashed Burger with REAL BACON. Japan’s bacon isn’t cured the way American bacon is, so it’s never as good. This, however, was the closest I’ve gotten since I left the US. The rest had actual Thai food. I don’t travel for food; I travel to see cool things. I don’t do well with spicy stuff, and my desire to eat American food not available (or rare) in Japan far outweighs my desire to try new things. For dessert, we went to a café that specialized in mango drinks and desserts. I got a watermelon smoothie. I like what I like. After dinner we got some drinks and went back to the hotel to play some card games. We turned on Thai Nickelodeon, but ended up getting too distracted watching (English) Totally Spies, because we had forgotten how terrible amazing it was. Once our drinks were empty (did I mention how much I missed root beer?), we went to bed and got some sleep before our full day of sightseeing in Ayutthaya.

You can view the full photo album here. As always, enter your email on the right to subscribe for free (though you can pay me if you want).

Next time on The Gaijin Chronicles: Part 2 of my Thailand trip. We travel to Ayutthaya, a city north of Bangkok with ruins, temples and reclining Buddhas, but without a dirty name like Bangkok or Phuket. What’s a reclining Buddha? How do you pronounce anything? Who is Mr. Boy? Find out tomorrow on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

“Don’t forget to save your game” is one of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever received. It can be applied to anything nowadays: games, essays, blogs. After losing about half of what I wrote about Disney Sea, I think I managed to remember everything. If not, I’m sure I’ll touch on it at a later time. Take this as a warning. Always save your everything (not in the hoarder way).

Day 2: Under da (Disney) Sea

Unlike Disneyland, which is almost identical to Magic Kingdom, there’s not really a US equivalent to Disney Sea. It’s sort of an amalgamation of Hollywood Studios and Epcot, while still being it’s own thing. When you enter, there’s a big lake sea surrounded by Venetian-inspired buildings. Mickey et al. were finishing a stage performance when we got there. As with the others, Japanese Mickey took some time to get used to. While Shiori’s mom got fastpasses for Journey to the Center of the Earth, we headed to the Tower of Terror. Outside the ride, a worker was at the end of the line shouting [1 hour 30 minutes! 1 hour 30 minutes!]. Perfect, not too bad compared to yesterday. Once we got closer, I noticed a slight discrepancy. It was 130 minutes. 130 minutes ≠ 1 hour 30 minutes. If your job is just telling people how long they have to wait, that’s pretty much the only thing you have to remember. While the overall story of the ToT is the same, there’s no connection to the Twilight Zone since nobody knows what that is here. Many of you know that I never get scared on rides/haunted houses (Alien Encounter must have set the bar too high), so I get most of my enjoyment in others’ reactions. In line behind us, I saw a group of young teenage girls in their matching bows and colored shirts, and I knew that I was going to have fun. I already had Shiori, who freaked out on pretty much every ride we went on and was not looking forward to this one. The group of soon to be screaming girls was just a bonus. Sure enough, we get to the elevator part and drop. Shiori screamed. The girls screamed. I laughed and laughed. I’ll give the girls credit that they at least knew where the camera was and posed. It’s fun, but it’s way too short. They need bigger drops and more of them.

Whistle While You Work

As we were leaving the Tower of Terror, we encountered the breakout star of the park, who deserves his own movie trilogy. I got some video of it (my phone ran out of memory while filming). It started when we heard a loud whistling sound, like when a bomb (or really anything) falls in a cartoon. Then a cartoony *clunk* noise as a worker pushing a trashcan grabs his head like he was just hit by something. Then another whistle, another “hit.” On the third whistle, he “caught it and threw it, breaking a window.” He apologized and ran off. We realized that this was going to be interesting, so we began to chase him. When we caught up to him, he was scolding a couple for a paper cup lying on the ground next to the trash. On the ground, the trash made a buzzer sound, but then he threw it away and there was a “ding ding” sound. I thought that he was pressing a button for each thing, then later realized that he just had everything perfectly timed. The third spot was his greatest performance. He went to a short dock near a lighthouse and began to set up for a picture. Video start: He took out two stuffed animals, set them on a little stand, then proceeded to take pictures, with sound effects the whole time. Then he pulled a random person from the crowd and asked them to take a picture. The volunteer held the tiny camera… but no shutter sound. The garbage man walked up “showed him” how to use it, then as he was walking back, the shutter went off. He turned around and shook his head, pointing at his face. The volunteer tried again, but no sound. This time as he was walking up to the volunteer, it went off. He “fixed it,” went back to pose, and it worked a few times. Then he took pictures of the volunteer. There was a rapid shutter sound as he took model shots of the volunteer. END VIDEO Finally he thanked the guy with a thumbs up (accompanied by a *shwing*), and the volunteer did it back (also with *shwing*). “Surprised” by the volunteer’s ability to also make the sounds, they went back and forth doing poses with sound. The last one another thumbs up with a *ding,* but the volunteer’s thumbs up made a buzzer noise instead. Finally, the garbage man cleared a path using Jedi/Moses powers, pointing his open hand at where he wanted to go, magically separating them while lightning sounds crackled around him. Then he went off into the sunset, never to be seen again.

When the Moon Hits Your Eyes Like a Big Pizza Pie

The next area we went to was based off Bioshock 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Journey to the Center of the Earth. There were retro-futuristic ships and buildings all around. In between the two areas was an Italian place. If you couldn’t tell it was Italian because it sold pizza, all you had to do was listen to the music played outside. I think someone just Googled “Italian pizza songs,” and played what came out (so Funiculi Funicula and Tarantella Napoletana (that second name I couldn’t remember, so I Googled the above)). While we were eating, there was a loud rumbling noise. I looked over and the “volcano” from the JttCofE ride was erupting. At first it was just a larger amount of smoke, but then it started spitting up huge flames. For the Journey ride, you got on a steampunk car, then traveled through the different magical totally scientific “layers” of the earth. Basically we went from a banana bird cave (Donkey Kong Coutnry 3) to an indoor blacklight minigolf course to Pandora from Avatar, and finally battled the lovechild of Gohma and a Balrog.

You Call That Archaeology?

On the way to the Indiana Jones ride (which is an actual ride, not just a stunt show), we saw Indy himself. Like most other human characters, he was Western (American). Since he was speaking English, he had a lady helping translate. After taking a picture with some girl, he pointed at a nearby girl with bunny ears, saying, “You with the bunny ears, what’s your name?” The translator roughly repeated it, referring to her as a “kawaii josei [cute girl].” Indy immediately said, “Kawaii? I don’t know… I guess if you’re in to that sort of thing.” I’m glad that I was there to appreciate his joke, because I bet usually nobody understands or gets his jokes.

Duffy, the Most Famous Disney Character You’ve Never Heard Of

Between Americans and Japanese, there’s a surprisingly big difference between which characters each gravitates for. I feel like Japanese people like Mickey, Donald, etc. more than Americans do, while we put a lot more emphasis on movie characters (not that they don’t like the movie characters, just slightly different ones). Characters like Stitch and Marie (again, white cat with a bow from Aristocats) are staples of Japanese Disney merchandise both in and out of Disney. In Disney Sea, however, none are as famous as Duffy the Disney Bear. What’s that? You’ve never heard of Duffy? Neither had I until recently (and I’m me). What movie was Duffy in, you ask? He wasn’t. TV? Nope. He’s basically just a teddy bear sold mostly in Japan. His backstory is apparently that Minnie made him for Mickey when Mickey was going on a long voyage at sea (…what?). About a decade ago, he was introduced at Orlando, and didn’t sell super well, but then Tokyo Disney picked him up and marketed the crap out of him, and so he became a staple of Tokyo Disney. Apparently they reintroduced him to the US Disneys a few years ago, but I’ve never really noticed him, and I doubt many others do, either.

Mr. Aladdin Sir, What Will Your Pleasure Be?

Once we had visited the Duffy store, I made my one request: to do some shopping in Agrabah: city of mystery, of enchantment, and the finest (Genie) merchandise this side of the River Jordan. Half of the store was dedicated to super expensive jewelry, gemstone characters, and actual glass slippers (meaning actual glass, they were a too little small to wear). The other corner was all dedicated to the best Disney character ever created. As soon as I entered, I felt my overwhelming lack of self control take over. One of everything please. Like dealing with a child, I was able to avoid buying some things by promising to get it next time (a promise I take VERY seriously). I ended up with a T-shirt, Genie-shaped Post-It notes (that sit in a lamp), (later a nanoblock Genie,) and some boxers. As a kid, I remember having underwear with the Genie’s face on it, but I haven’t seen them around lately, so I got a new pair. The next day we took a quick trip to Kamakura and saw one of the giant Buddha statues (that we got to go inside), and ate one of the best hamburgers I’ve had in Japan, before finally heading back home.

Next week I sadly don’t have a three day weekend, but I’ll still take a little trip. After that, I’ll start teaching at a new school and have new students as the new school year begins. Everything is new. What else is new? Where am I going? Do I even have money left to go anywhere? Why do I keep it vague? Find out tomorrow on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

Here’s the full photo album of the Raumen Museum (not a typo) and Kamakura.

Friday morning I once again headed to school with my suitcase in tow. When I walked into the teachers’ room, the vice principal asks [Where are you going now?] I smiled and said, “Disneyland,” and she just started laughing since I was just going to Korea the last time I saw her. After work, I took a shinkansen to Shin-Yokohama (near Tokyo) where I met Shiori (previous exchange student), Yuya (her cousin I tutored in America), and one of each of their parents. We went to the Ramen Museum for dinner, which is as awesome as it sounds. While there was a museum, the main attraction was downstairs where there was a live band playing outside 6-7 different ramen shops. Each shop told you which kind of ramen they specialized in (tonkotsu, soy sauce, etc.), how thick the broth was, and how thin the noodles were (or hardness, I don’t remember). After a few bowls ($1 for kaedama – noodle refills), we headed to the hotel to get some sleep before our “early” morning (breakfast at 7, leave by 8). Now, since this is a longer entry, and to get the Disney quotes out of my system, I’ve broken this one up into smaller parts. So let’s start this Chronicle the only way I know how.

Day 1: Tokyo Disneyland

NAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BABA! From the day we arrived at Disney, and blinking stepped into the sun, there was more to see than could ever be seen. More to do than could ever be done. Which is mostly because the lines there are ridiculous, even by Disney standards. The main reason likely being that while Disney World is separated into four different parks, Tokyo Disney only has two. We entered the park (without being fingerprinted, even) where crowds had formed around the few characters who were there (Chip, Dale, and the Fairy Godmother I think). Rather than just using any lady from Wisconsin, they had someone wearing a plastic face that was slightly unsettling. Unfortunately it was too crowded, so I couldn’t get a good picture. Everything was decorated for Easter, with eggs and bunnies all around. A lot of the characters even had special Easter costumes that they were wearing. Throughout the park, they also had Easter egg versions of a bunch of characters (like Stitch, Baymax, and R2D2), some not dissimilar to Tsum Tsum (Japanese chibi versions of characters used in a mobile game). Of course, that meant there was plenty of Easter-themed merchandise available.

Can You Sing with All the Voices of the Mountains

Our main goal was mountain climbing (Splash, Big Thunder, Space), so we started at Splash Mountain while Shiori’s mom got us fastpasses for Big Thunder (as my wonderful mother used to do for us). As we got there, the lady at the end of the line was shouting, [Three hours!] …What? What do you mean three hours? It’s still cold out, why are this many people going on a water ride anyway? We checked out another ride, but it was about the same, so we just got in line for Splash. Luckily, everyone was pretty chill about people “cutting” in line, so people could go to the bathroom or get food at any time without getting dirty looks when they came back. As we waited in line, banjo music played over all the speakers (just like in Kentucky), and I worried if they had enough banjo music to last three hours without driving people crazy. They went through the types of songs you’d expect: Old McDonald, When the Saints Go Marching in, and Zipadee-doo-dah (I think I even heard the Breaking Bad theme at one point). As we walked through the line, it would fade out for a bit before coming back (presumably to prevent homicides). Because I had no one to tell me “go to the bathroom even if you don’t have to go,” after a while, I really had to pee. Splash Mountain is the worst place in the entire park when you have to pee. You just stand there, being subjected to the constant sound of running water. Just over two hours later (thank Zeus not all three), we got on the ride. In spite of what I was lead to believe by the English signs, the ride was not in English. So you can imagine my surprise when Brer Rabbit started yelling things in Japanese. It’s not I needed to understand the complex backstory of Splash Mountain (which everyone knows anyway), but it was kind of funny to hear. Anyone who’s ridden a roller coaster with me also knows that I like to mess with the picture if I know where the camera is. I asked Yuya what I should do, and he decided we should sleep. So I slept like Aurora, he tried to sleep, Shiori freaked out, and only Yuya’s dad looked like he was having fun. We had some time to kill before we could use our Big Thunder Mountain fastpass, so we got some pizza for lunch. There were three pizza options: seafood, Hawaiian, or the special Easter pizza (sausage, vegetables and eggs. Yes, eggs). Not a wide range of options for me. Once we had finished, we went to use our BTM fastpass. Fastpasses make everything better. You get to run past those poor unfortunate souls who are stuck in line, knowing how much they hate you since you felt the same hatred earlier. Overall, it somewhat evens out, though. You can look at it as waiting two hours for one and fifteen minutes for another, or about an hour for each.

We Are Siamese If You Please

(Fun fact: They are still Siamese if you don’t please.) Everyone at TD can be divided into one of three groups: families, couples, and classmates. The latter two are easily distinguishable due to their matching outfits. Disney is apparently the one exception to the rule that it’s weird for couples to wear matching outfits (by which I don’t mean outfits that go well together, I mean the exact same clothes). The most common outfits I saw were matching Disney sweatshirts, matching hats (we’ll get to those in a minute), and jeans. Some get more creative and do borderline cosplay. It’s also very common for JHS/HS students to go to Disney together in groups. Most of the groups were all girls, and you could tell they spent time coordinating everything. Some were boring and just wore their school uniforms (and were therefore freezing in their skirts), but the rest went all out. Matching shirts, skirts, socks, bows/hats, hairstyles, and most bedazzled a little line on their cheeks (don’t know why, but everyone did it). The shirts would either be all the same color, or each a different color, Power Ranger-style. Alternatively, they’d wear overalls and matching sweaters, Super Mario style. I saw two girls in a reverse Winnie the Pooh: pants but no shirt yellow sweaters and long red skirts. The most common type of hat sold If nothing else, it makes everyone easier to find. Luckily we didn’t have that problem as Yuya and his dad wore bright red coats, and I wore white on my skin. Otherwise finding Japanese people in a crowd here is like playing Where’s Waldo, but he isn’t wearing his striped hat and sweater.

I Wanna Know About These Strangers Like Me

I was surprised at how similar everything was to Disney World. They even kept the English signs, and just added Japanese underneath. However, there were a few differences that I noticed pretty quickly. First of all, they still used the old Fastpass system where you go to the ride and are told to come back in a few hours. Secondly, as I mentioned, it was cold. I understood why our Disneys are in Florida and California. I figured going to Tokyo Disney would be almost identical to doing the one in California, if not better. What have they got, a lot of sand? We have a hot crustacean band. But the difference is in the weather. At worst, I’ll wear a light jacket in the morning, then have to carry it around during the day, even in January. Here however, we were in full coats. I wasn’t sure exactly how cold it was until I witnessed something I’ve never seen at Disney before in my entire life: snow. Not a lot. Not even enough for me to legally say it’s snowing, being from Michigan. However, the few drops that came down were unquestionably snow. Later on, the sun came out and it got a big warmer, but the coats mostly stayed on. I didn’t care, I was at Disney and the cold never bothered me anyway. The last main difference was the complete lack of foreigners. In Disney World, I’ll hear a different language every five minutes (not just at It’s a Small World), most of which I won’t even recognize. Here, however, everyone is Japanese. The workers rarely used English, even when speaking to me (usually at gaijin-heavy places, they’ll switch). That meant I had to use Japanese as well (contrary to popular belief, Japanese people aren’t whales, so speaking really loud, slow English doesn’t help). After a few hours, I started to notice there were no white people around. None. To the point where I started to wonder if I was the only one in the World Land. It then became my mission to find people with skin white as snow (without a magic mirror, even). By lunchtime, I finally found my first whitey as Phil Collins came on in the background (of my mind). By the end of the day I counted about 30 white people (excluding princesses) out of the thousands there.

Make Way, Here He Comes. Ring Bells, Bang the Drums

A little after lunch, the first parade started. I feel like in Disney World, the parades are a kind of thing that’s just there. They start when they start, and you can watch them if you feel like it, or just ignore them. Here it’s a huge event. People lay blankets down and sit there for up to an hour ahead of time (there’s an announcement of when you can reserve a seat), and once it starts, everything else kind of gets put on pause. We found a perfect spot right next to the road in front of the castle. Most people had brought blankets or small tarps to sit on. I sat on the ground because I don’t care if my butt gets dirty. I saw some people make sure to sit on something, then leaned on their hands, which were touching the ground. What’s the point? The first parade was pretty standard: Mickey et al, Snow White and various other princesses who likely got their jobs simply by being cute white girls (I’ve heard many don’t even really speak Japanese), Marie from Aristocats (Japanese people friggin love her), Nemo, Toy Story, Alice, Mary Poppins, Genie and Prince Ali Ababwa himself. Throughout the parade, the special parade song was played on all the speakers, but most of the floats played their own songs that actually synced really well with it. The final float featured everyone’s favorite character: Docomo (Japanese AT&T). I can only imagine how much they payed for that.

Star Wars, Nothing but Starrr Wars

After the parade, we went to Star Tours (the Star Wars flight simulator), which has been newly revamped for the new movie. On the way there, we walked by It’s a Small World, which I’ve promised to avoid after last time. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We also passed the Stitch Encounter ride, formerly the scariest ride to ever be created (not just according to child me) before they turned the alien into Stitch and ruined it. By now, the lines were less crazy, but just in case, we grabbed a snack. There are popcorn stands scattered throughout both parks, each with a different kind of popcorn (chocolate, white chocolate, cappuccino, and curry (yes, curry)). We got the chocolate one, which was delicious and may inspire me to just start injecting my popcorn bags with chocolate. The line was almost identical to the one in the US, scattered with droids and aliens from the movies. However, when we got to where R2-D2 and C3PO were, I was again surprised that they were speaking Japanese (Yes, R2-D2’s beeps were totally Japanese). A lot of times, the characters sound very similar to their English counterparts (like Genie sounds like Robin Williams speaking Japanese). HoweverC3PO sounded completely different. That also means that there was no “May the Force be with you” at the end. In America, when he said that line, some nearby Catholics responded “and also with you” purely out of habit. The updated ride flew us through the crashed Imperial Starship on Jakku from Episode VII, past some Naboo Starfighters, and then ran over Jar-Jar in Otoh Gunga (ok, even I had to look up that last one). They even had Japanese-speaking Finn, which sounded more badass in an anime way.

Sunny Bunnyland

The next parade started while we were in line for the Haunted Mansion. This one was the special Easter parade, and therefore took us all to “Sunny Bunnyland.” I felt like I had heard it before, but I don’t remember being at Disney on Easter, so it must have been Imagineered to drill deep into your brain where it would pretend to have always been there, and stay forever (like someone scamming an Alzheimer’s patient). By now I was starting to become more conscious of my phone battery. I had a charger that could recharge it most of the way, but only once. It was a dangerous game of curbing my boredom while still leaving enough charge for pictures and to keep me occupied later. I know most of you are wondering where my 3DS was. As I was leaving, I picked it up, then left it, deciding that I’d have my phone and everyone else to entertain me. I was a FOOL. The kids around me were all playing theirs just to taunt me. Haunted Mansion was Haunted Mansion. Admittedly, I kind of wanted a Japanese Eddie Murphy to show up the whole time, but that never happened. I learned some interesting facts about HM, like how all the gravestones have actual names, the ceiling raises at one park and the floor lowers at another in the main room, and the statue head molds are made inside out so that the shadows give the appearance that they’re always watching you, Wazowski.

The Peace That Evening Brings

As night approached, it got colder again and things started to wind down. We got a bench spot and a blanket set up for the final parade: The Electrical Parade. Even though it was cold, the sky was at least clear, but since we were so close to Tokyo (and at Disney), you could only see 3-4 fireflies stuck up in that big bluish-black thing. We still had fastpasses for Space Mountain (the best one), but needed two people to watch the bench and the blanket, and Shiori’s mom was off shopping. Finally she came back and we rushed to Space Mountain (we were basically right next to it). Even with our fast passes, it felt like it wasn’t fast enough. We kept checking the clock, wondering if we could get back in time, or if we’d be blocked off by the parade. Honestly, I was more interested in going on Space Mountain than another parade at the time, but still. Once we got off, we sprinted to get back in time. After walking and standing in line all day, running wasn’t fun (boy was I a fool in school for cutting gym). We got there just in time for it to start, which was good, because this was definitely the best parade. They said they used over a million lights for it, which isn’t surprising. Most of the characters from previous parades returned, including the princes and princesses, who I reconfirmed were mostly white people. Even Aladdin was basically white, he just had a big nose. Cheshire cat, Link Peter Pan, Mike and Kitty, and ever Pete’s stupid dragon joined. You know who wasn’t invited? Simba, Rafiki, and everyone else from The Lion King. I have no idea why, but there was not a single acknowledgement of the existence of Disney’s best movie (I’ll accept Toy Story, Beauty and the Beast, and Aladdin as arguments, but they’ll still lose (Story based on one of Shakespeare’s best, soundtrack by Elton F’ing John, and one of the best voice casts of any movie. Come on)). At least I still had my Genie. After the parade was done, we still had two fastpasses left over for Space Mountain (the parents didn’t go). We were a few minutes past the deadline, but luckily Disney people are nice, so we got one last ride in before going back to the hotel.

Next time on the Gaijin Chronicles: Part 2 of my weekend at the most magical place on Earth in Japan. Tune in tomorrow to read about my trip to Disney Sea! What is Disney Sea? Is it really better down where it’s wetter? Without my voice, how can I…? Find out tomorrow on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

Check out the full photo album here. Don’t forget to sign up for email alerts at the right so you don’t miss anything.

Post Credits Scene

What better way to celebrate an Easter Disney trip than with some Easter eggs (also Disney owns Marvel now, who are great at Easter eggs)? Let’s take a tally to see how many references I managed to fit into this chronicle (even if one or two might have felt forced).

The first day of spring. For many, it’s an almost meaningless day that is purely symbolic. A day that means, “Soon I won’t have to wear 5 coats every time I go outside!” Japan loves spring more than you do, however, because they made it a public holiday Therefore we just had a 3-day weekend. When deciding what to do with our short vacation, my friend’s first suggestion was, “Well, Korea’s cheap.” Because that’s what you do here, apparently. So Friday, after the 6th graders’ graduation (I almost fell asleep because I didn’t understand a lot, also I didn’t care because I teach at the JHS that they’re going to), I left like 3 hours early. I wondered if the teachers would care, but they basically applauded me as I left, jealous of my trip. So at 1:00, I took a bus to take a train to take a plane (to swallow the bird to catch the fly) to Korea.

Now, when you move to Japan, you’re given a special license colloquially referred to as a gaijin card. This is the card that says “I live here, but am not Japanese.” When we first get here, we’re told to have it at all times because of whatever law that we need ID. Mine is always in my wallet, so without looking, I always know I have it. I never take it out except when I need to show it to an official, such as the person at the hospital when I got the flu last week. And I would always put it back in my wallet, unless I was really sick and not paying attention and threw it in my pocket instead. So when I got to the airport with only my passport, there was some question as to whether I’d be allowed to return to Japan. 20 minutes and $30 later, I applied for re-entry and they put a magical sticker in my passport that lets me come back without hassle. Luckily I was there super early, so it wasn’t a problem. The flight itself was only an hour and a half. It was the trains before and after that took some time.

After getting out of the airport (which had a movie theater!), we headed to the train, which was at a futuristic-looking station. It was then that I realized that Korea seemed like an alternate-universe Japan (the kind of alternate universe like on tv where everything is just slightly different). The station, train, vending machines, and convenience stores were all almost identical to those in Japan, with the key difference that I couldn’t read any of it. I’m in no way an expert in Japanese, but I never have problems getting around or figuring things out based on what I can understand. You don’t appreciate being able to kind of read a language until you’re somewhere that you can’t at all. I better understood how my family felt when they came here. (Learn all about this trip in an upcoming chronicle coming to you this spring. Tickets on sale now.) We got to the Chocolate Tree hostel around 11. Next to it there was a series of awnings with the first 5-6 lines of Journey’s Open Arms (at the time I had no idea what they were from) for some reason. It was pretty decent, though the toilet and shower were the same room. Now when I say the same room, I don’t mean what you’re thinking. I mean that the whole room was a shower that also had a sink and a toilet (so you can shower while you poop!). Because of this, you had to bring toilet paper with you from outside so it didn’t get soggy. I thought it was too bad that I didn’t have psychic powers. Then I thought that that’s probably the most mundane use for psychic powers. Not stopping crime or helping people, but just knowing how much toilet paper you’d need.

The next morning, three of the four of us (one went off with her Korean friend) went to Gyeongbokgung Palace, also known as Gyeongbok Palace (no English shortcuts here, you’re gonna have to read Korean words, deal with it. Sound it out). Originally build in 1395, it was the largest of the Five Grand Palaces built by the Joseon Dynasty. However, it was mostly burned down during the Japanese invasion of 1592 and rebuilt almost 300 years later. Too often in Japan, you’ll read about how a temple was built hundreds of years ago, then rebuilt in the mid 1940’s for some reason. It was nice to be able to blame Japan and not be the reason for once. Honestly, even with the occasional signs with explanations, my knowledge of Korean history is limited to taekwondo form definitions. (I.e. Dan gun is named after the holy Dan Gun, the legendary founder of Korea in the year 2333 BC. Also, he was a bear. (That last part wasn’t in the definition, but I feel like it’s important enough to be mentioned.))  There was also a folk museum that contained more information about Korea’s history, as well as some interesting artifacts. The problem with part of it was that if you go back far enough, ancient things look the same from every country (here’s a stone axe, here they learned to make an iron axe). For lunch, we walked down a side street filled with various shops until we saw pictures of something we liked. Basically every Korean restaurant gives you like 6 starters no matter what you order, including kimchi, some kind of tofu, cucumbers, usually rice, and some other dark green vegetable (can you tell I didn’t eat much of it?). I got some kalbi beef, and the others got some spicy spaghetti-looking stuff (I really should review restaurants). On the way back to the palace, we found an ice cream shop. There were a few flavors that we had never heard of, and the names of the flavor were as helpful as Gatorade names. (“What flavor is that?” “Glacier Freeze” “…What?”) I was tempted to get the magic lamp flavor (covered in some kind of golden brown powder, likely some kind of nut), but went with the “Snow like sel“, which was just ice cream with cotton candy on it.

That night, we met the other two (and another) for dinner. I learned that basically every Korean person seems to have an English name, based on the sound of their own name. I wanna have foreign names. There’s never an equivalent of Curtis. In Spanish, I used Guillermo (William), in Latin, I just chose a badass sounding name (I forgot which), and in Japan, it’s katakanized to Kaatis. I can’t even have a kanji (Chinese) name because they don’t make the right sounds. Anyway, we walked down a big shopping street with restaurants, shops, and street vendors. While girls kept checking the makeup shops, I would continue looking around, usually finding a nearby candy store. One had a lot of US candy not available in Japan, including Warheads, Fruit by the Foot, Milanos, and various other sour candies that I’ve missed. They also had those giant tubes of Jelly Bellies, Prego marinara sauce, and a bunch of British snacks. Outside of one restaurant, an old Korean lady was handing out flyers. She handed us one, and pointed to the elevator behind her, indicating that it was on the third floor. We smiled and nodded, trying to indicate maybe we’ll come back here. She grabbed my friend’s arm and pointed again. When we made it clear that we weren’t going to the restaurant right then, she came up to us and grabbed the flyer back out of his hands. Well now we definitely weren’t going there. Then we found an interesting outdoor mall. It had pretty normal small shops with souvenirs and toys. One shop was a pet shop (stuff for pets, not actual pets) with toy cats and dogs and stuff. I asked the Korean girl if that was a restaurant and if the toy animals were like the menu. She eventually realized it was a joke and said it was just a pet shop (and explained that you only eat a certain kind of dog bred for eating. Also you have to go to a special restaurant to eat dog). There was also a photo booth studio where girls could wear hanboks, traditional Korean dresses. I said that I was going to wear one and asked which color I should wear. Even more than Japanese people, Koreans don’t seem to understand sarcasm (in their defense, I can trick even people who expect it from me), so she walked in and asked the guy if I could wear one. He said no because of course I wasn’t allowed. After looking around a bit, they took us to a small restaurant with a loft area, by which I mean the restaurant equivalent of a bunk bed. We climbed the ladder up, and even I had to crouch because the ceiling was so low (you sit on the floor, so it’s not really a problem). We got the 6 starters again, as well as some bulgogi, kalbi, and “stuff Curtis can’t have” aka seafood. To drink, we shared basically Sprite mixed with plum wine. The Korean girls said to mix it up in the kettle we got (as was tradition “since the 70’s”), to which I jokingly said, “Ok, I’ll just use my finger.” They excitedly said, “Oh, you know!?” I did not know. As is sometimes the case, my sarcastic comment was actually correct (although you use your finger in your own cup, not in the kettle).

The next day, we headed to Changgyeounggung Palace (I promise that’s the actual name and not me slamming my hand on the keyboard (which I considered because you wouldn’t know the difference)). These palaces were very similar to Japanese and Chinese temples because of the Buddhist influence, however these were much more colorful. Because it was the lunar new year or something, a bunch of girls were walking around in hanboks (or toddler clothes as we started to refer to them as). I took a few pictures from a distance like a creeper, but they kept hiding behind trees and stuff. I almost got a really good one of a couple, but then this lady showed up. After lunch, one of the Korean girls drove us to the DMZ (Demilitarization Zone), the border between South Korea and the Buffer Zone. Between North and South Korea is the aforementioned Buffer Zone, a few mile wide stretch of land used as a political safe zone. There’s actually a tour you can take in the DMZ that has a conference room that is technically in North Korea, but we arrived too late to go there. After about an hour drive, we see a big arch with a sign that said something in Korean. I jokingly read “Welcome to North Korea!” As with earlier, although I was sarcastic, I wasn’t completely wrong. We actually were told to make a U-turn there (thankfully) and took the exit to where we were actually going: a beautiful scenic park. That’s right. On the northern border of South Korea is a park where people can fly kites, ride bikes, go to music festivals, or ride the rides at the giant carnival/amusement park. If that doesn’t make the North Koreans want to defect, the Popeye’s surely will. After we had seen everything to see in the DMZ, we drove back to Seoul. While driving, we noticed that most cars had little blue foam squares on the door to stop them from hitting things, as well as the sticker from the dealer. One car had the two foam squares, and then a giant scratch underneath. I guess it didn’t help much. For dinner we ate at a restaurant called the Ginger Pig (many jokes were had at the expense of our red headed friend). There were two grills/hotplates on our table, and we chose whatever pig meat we wanted (belly and neck). As I grabbed the last piece of belly, the Korean girl warned me that it was all fat. I pointed at my stomach and said, “so is this.” Unfortunately there was no bacon or bacon fat. After dinner, we went to a boring shopping area known as Gangnam (the song is a joke because Gangnam isn’t that great). After doing some quick shopping, we headed to get second dinner. Apparently Korea has their own delicious fried chicken, so of course we had to get some. We got some chicken and fries, then went to another small shop for a little bit of cake, and took them all down to eat at the Han River. Once we had filled ourselves on chicken and beer (or mini-Cokes in my case), we took a walk down the river. There was a restaurant that looked like a Tennessee steam boat, and under one of the bridges was a bunch of exercise equipment for some reason (and it was actually in good shape). It was getting late, so we finished our river walk and headed back to our hostel.

I had my last day of classes on Tuesday, so I left Monday morning. The bus was completely backwards from Japanese buses, which was confusing at first. On Japanese buses, you enter in the side door, then exit at the front and pay at the end. Here, I payed when I got on in the front. I wasn’t sure if this was the case at first, so I kind of pointed at the machine like, “pay here?” The driver nodded, and before I had even put the bill in, had taken off with an acceleration of someone who was in a street race. I found an empty pair of seats, confident that no one would sit next to me (Korea is more racist than Japan). At the next stop, two high school/college age girls got on the bus. I didn’t pay much attention to them until the driver once again sped off before they sat down and they yelled「早い！」 It took me a second, but then I realized, “Wait! I understood that! Japanese!” I listened in for a bit, happy to understand something again. I couldn’t understand when they talked fast, but most of what gyarus consists of yelling an adjective (usually hot/cold), then saying やばい [yabai], Japanese for “I literally can’t even.” On the flight home, I got the exit seat, and therefore the leg room I so desperately need. Also, the cheapo airline wouldn’t let us put our stuff under the seat in front of us for some reason, so I was able to stretch out my legs entire body. Luckily, it was a flight between Korea and Japan, so there weren’t any fat people. However, the Korean couple next to me must have been on some romantic vacation, because they were pretty close to just making out on the plane. I know their Korean because Japanese people are way too conscious of PDA, unlike those slutty Koreans (living in Japan has made me pretend to be prudish). Finally I arrived home and prepared for my last day at my Tuesday school (a story for another time).

Full Photo Album Here

This weekend I’ll go on another adventure with some surprise people from my past. Is this the official return of The Gaijin Chronicles? How am I able on so many trips? Who am I meeting? Where will I go? Where did I come from, Cotton-Eyed Joe? Find out next time on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

Hello, it’s me. I was wondering if after all these weeks you’d like to meet to go over everything. They say time’s supposed to heal ya, but I ain’t done much healing (or blog work, or most things other than video games and weekend trips, sorry). Hello, is it me you’re looking for? can you hear me? I’m in Japan dreaming about who we used to be when we were younger and free. You’re surprised that I referenced something less than 10 years old, aren’t you (Though I keep trying to switch to the better Lionel Richie song. Adele’s songs sound too much like things a stalker ex-girlfriend would say. Seriously, think about it.)? Anyway, I’m not just bandwagonning that song to appeal to youngsters (as is evidenced by the fact that I said youngsters). It’s actually somewhat relevant. We’ll get to that in a minute.

Today  I’m going to take this time to talk about how much I love my job, and explain why it’s way better than yours.

Old at being young, young at being old

As a recent child and current manchild recently out of school, my memories of school are still mostly fresh. So I still remember the desire to do all the things the teachers could do but the students couldn’t. Teachers’ room? That’s where I am most of the day (whenever I’d get a glimpse of the teachers’ room as a kid, you could tell it wasn’t that special, but there was food in there and it was forbidden, which makes everything more interesting (especially heroin)). Teachers’ private bathroom? That’s all mine (thank Amaterasu that they have western toilets). Big metal-blade paper cutter that the teachers always tried to convince us would lob off our hand if we even touched it? I can use it whenever I want, and I’ve only lost part of my pinky!

Some of you are thinking, “I’m a teacher, too. I get to do all that, and it’s not that interesting.” Well, here’s why my job is better than a normal teacher’s. Because I go to a new school every day, the students see me at most once a week. This means that my being there is a rare occurrence. Added on top of that is the fact that half what I do with them involves games, and it becomes one of their favorite classes, regardless of their feelings for English. The other day I accidentally went to a wrong class at first (there’s usually 2-3 classes per grade, sometimes I don’t pay enough attention to which one I have that hour). They got super excited because they didn’t think they had English today. Unfortunately I had to break their hearts and leave them until next week while I went to my correct class. I’ve been here three months, and I still get students excitedly shouting, “Kaatis-sensei!” down the hall to me, or nudging their friends to point me out when they first see me. Who does that at your job? When you walk in to work, how often does someone shout your name (excitedly, not angrily because you screwed up (again))? Never, that’s when. More people recovering from depression should do this, it’s a good feeling. I know the students like their normal teacher, but they see them every day, and sometimes that teacher has to teach mandatory boring stuff. Not me, I get to teach basically whatever I want (for 5^th/6^th graders, I have to loosely follow the crappy book, but other than that, I’m good).

Some people don’t like teaching, as I’m often told on Facebook and elsewhere while people complain. Often it’s because they don’t really like kids, which is fair. As I previously stated, I am basically still a child, arguably more so now than when I was a child. Because of this, I get along really well with most children. When I first started here and gave some introductions, word spread quickly that I played Super Smash Bros. Kids I hadn’t met yet would come up and ask about which character I used and what stage I like. When they learned “I like __,” and made nametags with pictures of things they liked, most students had something that I liked doing, too (except the jocks, I’m not cool enough for sports). Smash, Splatoon, Mario Maker? Yup. Pokémon? That’s been my jam since before they were BORN (by like 8 years (I’m getting old, aren’t I?))! Minecraft (Not Minesweeper)? I played it before they could use a computer. Dragon Ball, One Piece? I’d watch it on tv if it wasn’t on so early (and if I understood more Japanese (I can usually get 80-90% of what they say, but still)). Cats? NO! I HATE CATS! My point is, we have more in common than most with that much of an age difference.

Also, teaching English to people who speak another language is way more interesting. Not only do you get to learn more about that language in the process, but the kids are usually way more interested in learning it than their native language. I use some Japanese to explain things and make them easier, otherwise if I talk English the whole time, they just stare at me and don’t really care. Some people use only English in the class to make it more immersive. That’s fine, and good at older levels. In my opinion, however, I prefer making more of a connection with them instead of talking at them so they look forward to learning it. Often times the teacher helps translate things, or explain in more detail than I’m able, which is part of the point of team teaching (which is usually a joke). Not only that, but shouting commands in another language is just like being a wizard. If I yell, “kiite!” (Remember: ‘e’ always makes a sound like Pokémon) the class will magically become quiet. If I say “han!” the desks will become groups of 4-5, and “tsukue modoshte!” will make them return to their rows. It’s also somewhat convenient that although I speak it pretty well, I don’t understand it too well. This means I can explain everything, but they have to respond in English.

A lot of people are also put off by the repetitiveness of teaching the same thing over and over. I’ve played video games my whole life, this is nothing. You’re telling me that I have to take this information, complete a task with it, then go to another dungeon school and apply the same knowledge? That’s just completing different levels in the first world. Now I have to add slightly more complex variations in order to teach the same stuff to the older kids? That’s level design 101, baby. Make them repeat the same sentence/structure until they understand it and can use it more fluently? That’s just grinding to level up. Admittedly these are all much more boring variations of these concepts, but they still apply. Life may not be a game, but games are taken from life, then made way more interesting (like books, but better).

Another reason my job is better? Recess. Does your job have recess? Didn’t think so. “Well at my company, we’re given time to–” DO YOU PLAY DODGEBALL DURING THAT TIME? No! Tag? No! You don’t get recess. I’m actually not the only teacher who plays with the kids, either. I just do it more often. I credit recess with at least half of my weight loss (the other half being no Jet’s or Buddy’s). There’s no better exercise than being chased by 20 kids. At that point, no matter how much bigger or faster than them you are, they will catch you. Also my cardio still sucks, so they can run way longer than me. Lately for some reason the first recess has been dedicated to every student just doing laps around a track. I keep forgetting this, and head out, then have to run. I wouldn’t normally care except for I’ve had a cough for almost two weeks, and any physical exertion (like having to walk all the way to my bathroom) will set it off. At first I thought that running with the younger kids would be the best option because my stride is longer than theirs, so it’s easier to keep up. What I forgot is they have way too much energy. Then I realized the older kids also don’t want to do this, so they run at a normal pace. The older kids are also the best ones to play dodgeball with because I can actually throw the ball. Sometimes I play with the second graders, so I have to do some kind of two handed toss so I don’t take off their heads with my phenomenal cosmic power (heads don’t count, anyway). Usually two of the teachers play, too, but they’re girls around my age, and because I’m sexist a gentleman, I don’t throw that hard. Occasionally I’ll get invited (read: my arm grabbed and pulled somewhere while strange words are shouted at me) to play other games. I’ve gotten a lot of good ideas for English games from these. One was tag/dodgeball where whoever was it would call out a color and the kids were only safe if they were touching that color. At one point they called red, and I was in trouble until a kid I knew ran past wearing a red sweatshirt, so I just grabbed him and yelled, “safe!” He was confused (largely because he barely speaks Japanese).

Another reason this job is better than yours, and even normal teaching is obvious: I’m in Japan! A lot of people do this program just because the want to go to Japan. For some like me, it’s a bonus having a good job. For others… they just shouldn’t have come. Too often I hear people complain about their job here, and I just wonder, “Why did you apply then?” Sometimes I have to deal with miserable people who do nothing but complain all the time about how bad everything is (it isn’t) and should probably be “sent to a farm somewhere” for the sake of their students and basically everyone around them (not that I have any specific people in mind…). Anyway, on the way to school, my bus goes through old Japanese neighborhoods and rice fields, with beautiful mountains and forests in the background. I wish I was more awake to enjoy it, but I have to wake up at 6, so bus time in nap time (after school is nap or 3DS time usually). On the weekends, I can just take a train to Kyoto, Nagoya, or Osaka and hang out there for the day. In Michigan, my equivalent was Detroit. Not quite as fun. Or safe. Or clean. Had I still been in St. Joe, I could have gone to Chicago, but Amtrak sucks and driving in Chicago sucks more. Instead I’m in the land of sumos, ninjas, and Kyary Pamyu Pamyu. I’m not saying it’s perfect here (no bacon or good pizza, etc.), but it’s way more interesting than whatever boring city you’ve lived in the past who knows how long.

Next time on TGC, I cover my birthday week (or something older, who knows!?). Why have I been so busy? Did I have a good birthday? What did I do? How long will you have to wait this time? Find out next time on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

I wish more shows would just declare filler like that, although just because it’s filler doesn’t mean it’s bad. Overall, there’s not much need for me to cover each class I teach as they repeat themselves and aren’t that exciting to talk about a lot of the time, but here are some of the more interesting things I’ve encountered in my two months so far.

Out of all the foods that I’ve grown to like in Japan, tea is not yet one of them. It’s said that if you eat something 14 times, your body grows to like it (that’s an actual science thing, not just an urban legend). My usual argument to this is usually why would you ever eat something you don’t like that many times (the counterarguments being beer and coffee)? I found another case why. At my Thursday school, there’s a lady who works in the office who’s a designated “tea lady.” Honestly, I’m not sure what she does other than serve tea to the teachers. So every morning when I get to school, she brings me tea. When she first did it, I figured it was because I was new, and since it’s rude to refuse, I took it and basically chugged it in three gulps. Now I’ve backed myself into a corner, so every week I accept the tea, and every week I make sure no one can see the face I try not to make after drinking it. I don’t know how many times I’ve done this by now, but I hope I’m close to 14.

One day I walked into my class of fifth graders, and they were all playing on 3DSs. I got excited and was about to tell them to wait while I got mine, too, when the teacher instructed them they were done and to put them away. Turns out, they all have a “game” that the kids use to learn and practice kanji (a game which I probably need). I wish I could have used a 3DS in school, though DSs didn’t come out till I was a bit older. We did get Palm Pilots in 7^th grade, but the teachers never used them in class because they were old and curmudgeony (and most kids just had games on them).

Japanese people are well known for being extremely polite since their society and even their language is built on being respectful to those around you, especially superiors. This is true in most cases, but there’s one area that the Japanese seem to lack any form of tact: telling people when they’re fat. Due to a better diet and overall healthier lifestyle than most Americans, obesity is very rare in Japan (sumos notwithstanding). Because of this, Japanese people seem to be more than willing to let you know when you’ve put on some weight. When Japanese students study abroad, they almost always gain weight, usually due to a huge change in diet. In every case, their friends, family, or girlfriend/boyfriend will not hesitate to inform them that they got fat (as if they think the person didn’t already know that they gained weight). Last time I came to Japan and met with all my friends at the train station, the first thing most of them said wasn’t “nice to see you,” or “it’s been a while,” but “you got fat.” Even at times where no American would have considered me overweight, to them, I got fat. In the two months I’ve been here, I’ve already lost over 10 lbs. In the next few months, I’m sure I’ll lose what I consider too much weight. Not that I’ll think I’m too skinny, but rather I’ll be angry that I had that much extra weight to lose in the first place. The good thing is I’ve found two ways to know when I’ve lost enough weight. The first is that my Japanese friends will stop calling me fat, and the second is that the first graders will stop treating me like Buddha. I’m not sure why, but after recess, the first graders will often come up to me and start rubbing my stomach (assumedly for good luck). One just poked me in the belly button like I’m the Pillsbury Doughboy, then ran off. It’s hard to say whether this habit will continue once there’s less stomach to rub/poke. We’ll see.

The first graders are definitely the most physical, though I’ve had some seconds and thirds that were as bad. After my introductory class for a group of first graders, I stuck around to answer other questions (or so I thought). They swarmed around me and asked a few questions, then asked to see my muscles. I flexed my arm, which apparently looks just like playground equipment, because they immediately grabbed it and hung from my arm. One kid used it to climb me like I was a tree, bringing his legs up for support. This wasn’t that difficult, but then they played Monkeys in a Barrel, and I soon had four or five on either arm. They also kept asking to touch my beard, which is completely reasonable. Then they tried to arm wrestle me, as if they had a chance. Depending on the age, it usually takes four or five of them using both hands to beat me. As I tried to leave, they followed me to the hall (by which I mean were still attached). I told them that I had to go teach another class, but they didn’t particularly seem to care. So I walked through the marsh of children, pulling them along trying to get to the stairs. A few of the kids decided that while the other kids were holding my arms, it would be a good time to get a straight punch to my nuts. Luckily he either wasn’t strong enough or didn’t follow through, so it didn’t hurt. I also had my back to the wall to protect myself from kancho. As they were pulling me, they accidentally knocked over an umbrella stand, which distracted them long enough for me to bolt up the stairs. My next class was on the third floor, so on the way up the second set of stairs, I could see a first grader stop at the second floor and look for me both ways down the hallway (like the bad guy of any Scooby-Doo or any alien/monster/dinosaur movie (going the Scooby route, my other best option would have been to put on a fake mustache and chef hat, then lead the kid to a spaghetti dinner I had inexplicably made/found, sit him down while explaining the specials, and while grinding the pepper, throw some in his face and run)).

The third graders I taught the following week were much the same at first. They hung from my arm (though were a bit heaver, so they started yelling, “He’s turning red!” when I tried holding a few up), rubbed my stomach and beard, and some tried to tickle me (often by sticking a hand through my sleeve and touching my armpits). Usually they’d try and tickle me, then seemed to be surprised that I have armpit hair and yank their arm back like it was going to bite them. I had already told them I wasn’t ticklish, so eventually they stopped trying. Two of the kids told me they did karate, and one asked to punch me in the stomach. I either overestimated my abs or underestimated his punch, because it actually hurt at first. Not wanting to make this a thing they start doing, I told them to punch me in the arm instead. They still had decent punches, but this was less dangerous right after lunch. They then asked me to hang with them at recess, so after the next class, I met them outside. We played normal tag, but I had to keep asking who was it. There was a kind of short wall that was on the side of a hill, which I could pretty easily jump up to, but took the kids longer to climb or go around and up the hill (by which time I would jump down), so I had a nice advantage (I often use playground equipment to escape kids by hurdling or climbing around faster than they can (Parkour!)). Once the game had moved away from us and we didn’t know who was it (which is a problem of normal tag vs. zombie tag with this many people), the kids continued pulling my arms, touching my beard, and pinching my face for some reason. A few of them also requested piggy back rides, which was good exercise even though my knee has been starting to bother me (which extra sucks in a country that often sits on the floor). Eventually it was time to go back (the clock outside is a few minutes fast, so the kids go in at the time their class starts, and get back by the time it actually does (usually).

Most schools have two [twenty minute breaks] which I just call recess out of habit. Now that I go out for all three schools, I usually spend one recess with younger kids, and one with older (both for their benefit, and because my cardio sucks too much to keep running from twenty kids). At my Tuesday school, I do either the above, or I play with the Brazilian kid who moved here two weeks ago. He speaks little to no English or Japanese, and I don’t know Portuguese, so we just volley a ball back and forth (sometimes other teachers are there, one of whom speaks Portuguese). He doesn’t seem to be a fan of volleyball, though, as instead of setting or serving the ball, he just punches it into the air with mixed results. At my Friday school, it’s recently been tag in the morning, and dodgeball with the older kids in the afternoon. When I first went out to play something other than tag, there were two groups playing dodgeball. I had the choice of playing with the third graders (and Billy Maddisoning them), or with the 5/6^th graders and have more of a challenge. I opted for the latter. In their version, catching the ball doesn’t get the other person out, so I prefer to just dodge it. My years of video games and taekwondo have trained my reflexes to be much better than most, so they’re rarely able to hit me. My years of video games have made me terrible at catching sportsballs (that’s what they’re called, right?). I can punch or kick the balls with perfect accuracy (more accurately than the Brazilian kid), as long as I don’t have to keep a hold of them. I forgot that although a few of the kids are my size, I’m still a lot stronger than them. After one of the games, I threw a ball to one of the kids (not full speed, but hard enough), and they were super impressed by how fast it went. That’s when I learned the key to being good at sports: play with people more than 10 years younger than you (disclaimer: this really only works in your twenties and early thirties. Maybe it’s more accurate to just say play against kids).

Fall is a busy time for students in Japan. The elementary school kids prepare and perform at their undokai, or sports days, and the junior high (and older) students spend a lot of their extra time making decorations and preparing for their bunkasai [culture festival]. There’s even a festival in Tsu! What is undokai? Is it super cute? What is Sports Day? Why did I capitalize it that time? Find out next time on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

The last full week of September was Silver Week. Silver Week is a magical holiday that happens once every few years (last in 2009, next in 2026) when Respect for the Aged Day (3rd Mon. of September) and the Autumnal Equinox occur within a day of each other, then the day in between them evolves into a holiday (they’re going a little overboard with these evolution methods). Basically it’s a 5 day weekend. If you take vacation days on that Thursday and Friday, it turns into a full 9 day holiday. A lot of people use this chance to vacation around Japan or even to other parts of Asia. I used half for traveling, half for some epic sleeping and video games. You can check out the few pictures here.

Friday night a few of us went out to a late dinner and drinks, then for more drinks afterwards at a place that had the “Eiffel Karaage,” a towering plate of delicious fried chicken. This went a little later than I wanted it to, but we had missed the last train so I had to wait so we could all share a taxi. Our train the next day was at 8:30ish, we got home a little before 2. That wasn’t going to work for me, so I again opted for the more expensive train in order to sleep in an extra hour (some of the best money I ever spent). The only problem with this plan was that the more expensive train has assigned seats. Now normally there’s plenty and it’s not a problem. However, this is Sparta Silver Week, so it’s much busier than normal. I got to the station, and the machine was broken, and there was a huge line to get tickets, and someone else told me the train was sold out. You can still ride it, you’re just not guaranteed a seat. I was on a time crunch, so I just got on the train and played stupid foreigner when the ticket guy came around. I bought my ticket from him and was told if the owner of the seat I was in arrived, I had to get up. Fine. I already saw pictures of the other ALTs all sitting on the steps in between cars or on the floor. I wasn’t expecting a comfortable ride. I got in the last train which looked less fancy, which at first I thought meant it was a non-reserved section. It was actually just the smoking car. I was faced with a choice: have a seat and deal with the smoke, or go risk it up front where the seats were more likely to be already filled. The smoke wasn’t too bad, so I stayed where I was next to some high school kid (he was doing advanced algebra, and my brain actually said, “Oh, that looks fun,” in a non-sarcastic way. That math is more interesting because it’s basically like a puzzle). Every stop (one every 10 min. or so) I had to prepare for someone to kick me out, so I looked around for people who just left knowing their seats were less likely to be taken at the next stop. By the grace of the train gods, I went almost the entire way sitting there. When I had two stops to go, some old ladies came in and indicated they were sitting there, so I moved up to the non-smoking car, found a seat, and congratulated myself on having a seat the whole way without having to pay full reservation price (next week I’m gonna try the same thing on this new ship called the Titanic).

I met everyone around Osaka station, and we headed to Kishiwada, where the Kishiwada Danjiri festival was being held. Kishiwada Danjiri is a festival celebrating something that even Wikipedia doesn’t know (probably praying to some god), and is celebrated by pulling giant carts through the streets with performers dancing on top and playing drums and stuff. Here’s an awesome video that’s not at all synced with the music, but shows off the carts from the afternoon and night parades. When we got to Kishiwada, my friend Shun (OU study abroad student) was there waiting for us. I haven’t really had time to see any of the study abroad people yet, so I was glad we got to hang out at the festival. We headed down to the streets where the “parade” was going on, grabbing some festival food along the way (karaage, takoyaki, fries, etc. I had karaage and candy covered strawberries, which were awesome). I say “parade” because rather than a continuous line of the big carts, they would come kind of sporadically. We were sitting on a curb, so we would just stand up when they started coming through, watch them go by, then sit back down and wait a few minutes for the next one. On the backs of some of the carts, two or three of the people had weird outfits. I soon became disappointed in the majority that didn’t. These included a fake nude outfit with pink underwear, a Noface mask, some luchadors, and Egyptian pharaohs (the pharaohs being on the float where most people were dressed as Mario and Luigi. I don’t get it either). When we had our fill, we headed along other parts of the street. Occasionally they’d change the path that the carts were coming from, so some of the men would push us off the streets shouting what roughly translated to [Hey, clear the way in the old bazaar.]

Once we had our fill of the day part of the festival, we explored the area a little. There was a nearby shrine and castle that we checked out, then lied around the park. Shun commented how it looked like a college campus because of all the white people just lying around everywhere. Around 5, Shun had to head back home, and the rest of us were getting hungry, so we checked out the nearby mall. Outside the mall, there was a food stand with a big American flag that sold “hamburgers.” I got really excited at first, shouting “that’s my home!” until I saw the hamburgers and realized that they would likely be considered a salad with how much lettuce they put on it. Instead, a few of us went to a ramen restaurant. It was here that I realized the convergence has begun (convergence, or accommodation is when your speech adapts to those around you). It’s not often listed, but the subtitle for this blog is “My life as a minority.” This applies not only to being a white person in Japan, but also to being an American at times (there are plenty of American JETs, but they’re not always around). Americans may not always be a majority, but we can sure as hell act like we are. In arguments about how a word is pronounced, Americans stand firm that they’re correct in spite of the fact that we’re teaching ‘English’ and not ‘American.’ However, usually Japanese people technically learn American English (USA! USA!), so we’re often right relative to the textbooks. Anyway, in this particular case, I was eating with an Australian and two Brits. I don’t know if it was my exhaustion, the amount of British tv I watch, or the speed with which I was talking, but mid-sentence, my vowels briefly shifted to mimic a more British accent before returning to their American ways (where they belong). For a while, I’ve kind of expected my Michigan A’s to get toned down, or even to pick up colloquialisms from various others, but this one was surprising even to me.

After dinner, it was time for the night festival. The night festival is largely the same, but the carts are completely covered in Japanese lanterns, and there’s much looser restrictions on where people stand relative to the carts. I think people can even help pull them. Also everyone is drunk by this point. There’s even food and drink carts going around for people pulling the carts. Unfortunately, the only rooms we were able to reserve that night were at a hostel up in Kyoto, so we had to start heading over there. We walked past a lot of the carts, getting an up-close view of the people inside as we headed towards the train station. Because everyone was going to different places for the night, two of us were tasked with getting our people to the hostel (safely). On the train to Osaka (we were just south), we realized we had taken the slower one accidentally and thus would need to haul it to the next stop. However, a bunch of people needed to get their stuff from the lockers at the station. Our last resort option was to have two of us Olympic sprint to the connecting station to make sure we got to the hostel in time to check in. In my head, we looked really cool sprinting between people and past the ticket gates, tapping our wallets to get through without slowing down. In reality, the people around us might have been frightened by the two white people dashing through the station. Turns out, Google Maps exaggerated the time to get there even more than usual. We got there and had to wait in line as people squeezed on the previous train. Then when the next one came, we made sure we got in. I would have been uncomfortable because of how crowded it was, but I had an imaginary gaijin bubble around me that prevented anyone from standing too close. Scientists still aren’t sure how a gaijin bubble is formed, but the prevailing theory is that the xenophobic and chikanphobic (fear of people inappropriately touching them) particles fuse to create a mixture that negates most claustrophobic particles. The others even had time to drag their bags there to make it, but we couldn’t find them after getting off, so we went on ahead. We followed the directions to check in at the main place before heading to the hostel. However, when we got there and rang the bell, some old guy just walked out and stared at us (without opening the door). We eventually realized that he could hear us through the intercom, and told him we needed to check in. He told us we were at the wrong place and had to check in at the hostel (the exact opposite of the instructions in the email). I’ve learned that I have a special ability where my fluency suddenly increases 10 fold when there’s more urgency placed on what I’m doing. It’s like Super Saiyan fluency. It’s really good for a few minutes, then when I’m done, it goes back to normal (just ignore that part, non-nerds/people over 30). In our room there were 5 bunk beds for the 8 of us and two other guys (don’t ask why two was written while the rest were numeric. The rule is over like twelve should be numeric, but whatever, I do what I want). I think the guys were from France and one of the Sweden countries. We made plans for the next day, then went to sleep in a room that was way too hot even though I was sleeping literally next to the air conditioner (same height even. Remember I’m a literal Nazi. And by literal Nazi, I mean someone who is a grammar Nazi when it comes to the word “literally”, not literally a Nazi).

Rain Check in Kyoto

That last sentence (not in parentheses) was the blog equivalent of everyone on tv huddling together whispering, then everyone saying ok and the audience is left to think, “Wtf?” I’m very particular with my wording, and make sure you think only what you’re paid to think. That way you’re kept in suspense for a whole few seconds. In actuality, I said “let’s do this,” and everyone else said that’s a great idea. Of course it was, that’s why I said it. I had actually made this plan a year before when I was here, but it was not meant to be. Exactly what happened that has been Lost to time (get it? Lost? Like a Lost Chronicle? Once I catch up on the present, I’ll finish it. It’s one of my more interesting adventures). Before we got to my awesome idea, we stopped at the station to get breakfast and leave our extra bags in the coin lockers (which are really hard to find during holidays). From there I escorted everyone to the trains, which we took to go pray at the temple 任天堂. Translated as “leave luck to the heavens,” this temple is a Mecca for many like us who worship the great Creator 宮本, and wish to seek enlightenment by offering our time and devotion unto him. For those who can’t read kanji, this sacred temple is referred to in English as “Nintendo.” After leaving our blessings, we headed to Fushimi Inari. Now, I’ve previously been here (twice), but both times, my companion didn’t want to walk the whole thing, so we turned back after a while. This time, however, we were determined to walk the whole thing. Fushimi Inari is one of my favorite places to go because I’ve always liked hiking through the woods, just exploring and taking everything in. Fushimi Inari lets you explore the woods, but also has a bunch of awesome torii (orange gates) to walk through, and occasionally cool little shrines that may or may not be graves. I’m honestly not sure why they’re there, but they’re really interesting to look at. On the way up, I got the walking stick again because I’m a foreigner and it was only like $1, and also it helps my knee, and also because it’s a giant hill and also I don’t have to explain myself to you! Everyone laughed at the uselessness of getting a bamboo walking stick when I wasn’t old, but I knew I’d show them. Eventually, I showed them. We got to the top where there was a line up MORE stairs to get to some shrine. We walked up, did the claps and the bows and the donating and moved on. Two old people were on the platform thing praying. They had even brought food up as an offering (it wasn’t their lunch like I first thought). Then the old dude started chanting a prayer (or a translated Queen song. I couldn’t tell), which made the shrine seem even cooler. The best ways to enhance the atmosphere of a Japanese shrine area is by having someone reciting sutras or other prayers, or just koto music. Once we had celebrated our victory (I believe I yelled something along the lines of [We did it all fooooo], which made more sense in context). We walked all the way back down (in total it was a little over 2 hours), then headed back to the station for lunch. At the station, there was a big orchestra playing a song that might have been the Chips Ahoy song, I forget (yes, that is forever the Chips Ahoy song because of those commercials). I watched a little, but I was too hungry, so we went and found some good meat (often that’s our only requirement of food now). Finally, it was time to return home on another overcrowded train. Even though we had only been gone two days, we had done so much that it just felt like vacation. As if all that teaching stuff was just a dream…

Was it all a dream? Was Super Mario Bros. 2 a dream? Is this a dream? How do you know? Am I running out of questions? Find out next time on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

For those unaware of Fujin, he is the god of wind and inspiration for Tornadus. He’s usually blue with a bag of wind around his neck. He’s almost always depicted with the god of thunder, Thor Zeus ThunderJesus Raijin (Thundurus). I prefer Raijin because he just looks cooler (with his Heatmiser hair and ring of drums). The Raijin has three fingers to represent the past, present, and future, while the Fujin has four for the cardinal directions. In paintings they’re usually slightly overweight and have sumo manboobs, but in statues they’re always completely ripped. They’re feared for their power over nature and mischeivous behavior, and often placed at the gates of shrines as protectors. During storms, children are told to cover their belly buttons or else Raijin might eat their belly. Fujin is responsible for typhoons, but he also protected Japan in 1274 and again in 1281 in the form of wind storms devastating the Mongol invading forces. The idea of the Fujin’s wind protecting them is where they got the term kamikaze [divine wind]. The term refers to the belief that a god is protecting them, and not as most Americans seem to think, a term for suicidal planes. There’s your history lesson for the day. Now let’s get to my encounter with Fujin.

On Monday the 7th, I started at Geino JHS (that day was third years, or 9th grade). I was a little worried at first because I’d only taught younger kids so far, but they seemed to like the presentation, too. This time I kept it almost exclusively in English since they had been studying it for a bit longer. There were two teachers there (I’m still not sure why). One was a small, older lady with one of the quietest voices I’ve ever heard. The other is a guy who I’ve been told is an Asian world champion in Brazilian Jiujitsu, but now teaches the girls volleyball team. He seems super interesting, but I haven’t really talked to him much yet (he:s not very talkative). Afterwards, the other teacher encouraged them to ask the questions in English, which at first made them not really want to ask questions (not that I blame them). She’d help translate, though, so it worked out and more kids started asking questions. Here I was asked another question I had been expecting: have I ever shot a gun (originally interpreted by the teacher as ‘have I ever shot somebody’ (on a slightly related note, articles (a, an, the) are never more necessary in English than when saying “I got a shot”)). I explained that I’d done some skeet shooting and target practice, but had never hunted (deer nor the most dangerous game). I’m assuming that question was because I’m American, and not just because I lived near Detroit (which a few of these kids actually recognized finally). I also got the girlfriend question, but this time it was followed by “what kind of girl do you like?” Even in English, I don’t really know how to answer this (I could actually hear a large number of you just now somehow audibly think “super skinny,” which I won’t deny, but that alone isn’t really a type). One kid raised his hand and said, “I want to play games with you.” I gave him a thumbs up and said ok. Another asked what Japanese comedians I like. I explained that I only know a few who have translated videos on Youtube. Therefore, some of my favorites were Razor Ramon Sumitani (better known as HG (that emoji used to be bigger…)) and Himura from Bananaman. Unlike the 6th graders who only knew the latter, a few laughed when I said RRS (they knew what was up). I also think I was told I look like the guy from iCarly. I’m not sure which since they weren’t able to offer more specific details about who they were talking about. Unfortunately, that day, the 9th graders were my only two classes, so I once again sat around and did jack squat for the next five hours. A lot of times I’m just staring at things. At this point I’m able to have a staring contest with pretty much anything and do pretty well, whether or not it even has eyes (I swear that stapler blinked). At some point I was given sheet music with a cd and told to learn the song for the upcoming festival (I think, they just kind of said “learn this”). To waste some time, I downloaded a piano app and played through it a little to figure out what it sounded like.

Wednesday we had another typhoon blow through. We had previously had a typhoon a few weeks ago before any kids had started. It was pretty big, but it wasn’t directly over us, so all we got was a lot of rain a wind. My vice principal said there was a typhoon warning, so I didn’t have to come the next day. However, I was at a different school, so it wasn’t up to him. Japanese phones are all connected to an emergency service that gives you alerts for floods, etc. (I guess America has this, too, it’s just never used in Michigan). All night, it seemed we would keep getting notifications about nearby areas that had flooded, then people in the group chat would ask others for a translation. By the third one, I learned where to look for the name of the river/area. We received another few before I recognized the one near my bus stop. Luckily, my apartment is on the second floor, so I’m pretty safe from it flooding, unlike poor Piglet. Eventually, the alerts calmed down and I was able to sleep soundly, unlike poor Pooh (I don’t know how that song didn’t give me nightmares as a kid). The next morning I had to call my supervisor to see if it was safe. It was, so I put my rain gear on and headed out. This time there wasn’t a warning, however this one was supposed to go right over us, so it was more touch and go in the morning. I biked to the bus stop and got on the bus, then after talking with a few other people, learned that their schools had canceled classes for students. I called the vice principal, and after muddling through some Japanese, learned that the kids had a day off, but because I’m a teacher, I was supposed to go in. Some other ALTs used a vacation day so they didn’t have to come in, but I was already on the bus, and I’d rather use those days for actual vacation. I wore my rain gear and I even bought a new umbrella because all the ones I had (found at my apartment) were broke, and didn’t help at all with this wind. I was surprised that most of the teachers were already there and working. However, since I no longer had students to teach, I spent the day working hard to stay awake and browsing every (SFW) website I could think of. At the end of the day, the English teacher came and told me that in the future I could use nenkyu (vacay day). It was a little late to tell me 10 minutes before I left, but I had already decided not to, so I didn’t care. By then, the weather had completely cleared up, so I got to the bus stop and realized I totally forgot my new umbrella (luckily this is Japan, so it’s still there a week later).

The next day was my first day of teaching something other than my jikoshokai (self intro). I was kind of nervous about it at first because I still often feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. I had an easy workload, though, since I was only teaching a first and a fifth grade class, and was at my small school.

The first graders was still just the introduction presentation, but slimmed down to match their attention spans. For the fifth graders, we learned “I like…” so we went over vocab, did a page from the book, and played two games with some flashcards. One of the fun things about being the teacher is that if I don’t have flashcards for something, I can put whatever I want on them. One of the games involved them pairing up and putting an eraser between them, then putting their hands on their heads. Then I’d choose a keyword, such as “baseball.” Then if I said “I like baseball,” they’d have to quickly grab the eraser. If I said anything else, they had to repeat it. It drills the vocab in their head, and it’s fun for me because I get to mess with them. For instance, if I suddenly say “I like BASKETBALL,” they hear the “ba” and sometimes can’t distinguish it enough to stop themselves from grabbing it. Then they lose a point. The most fun I had was when the keyword was “orange juice,” and “oranges” was also a vocab word. I got them a few times on that one.

At my Friday school, the first graders got the same watered-down version of my intro (instead of doing a quiz, I’d ask them how old they were, then ask how old they thought I was, and repeat to keep them engaged). After the first grade class, one of the girls asked if I wanted to come out for recess. I replied, “f*** yeah,” which she didn’t understand (probably because of the bleeping sound that came out of nowhere), so I said, “ok.” Later on, I met them in the class and followed them to the playground. I was then swarmed by a hoard of children yelling “Onigokko! Onigokko!” At first I thought it was a voodoo curse that they were putting on me, but then I remembered that it’s a tag-like game. They kept pointing at me yelling “oni” [demon], which I normally take offense to (though don’t always disagree), but in this case it meant I was “it”, so I went around tagging as many people as I could (I slowly realized it was like zombie tag). (Fun fact: Scientists say that 95% of all adults are still technically “it” from a game of tag that never ended as a kid. The most common cause is thought to be “you’re it, I quit.” It is currently unknown if this can be passed down to children at birth. Scary stuff.) Eventually I got tired because I’m lazy, so I slowed down to catch my breath. Then a big group of kids came up and said they were Oni, too. Turns out they were kids I had tagged, and maybe kids who had been tagged by those kids. Basically I had a legion of small underlings to do my bidding, like Pikmin (but less fireproof). We started another game with me and a few others as Onis, so I chased them around again and created my new legion. Throughout the game, kids kept coming up asking if they could join, so I just kept yelling [anyone can join] with what little breath I had left. I stopped again, and I decided to let another group be Onis. I now realize how futile it will be to run away in the zombie apocalypse. I was already running on steam, and no matter where I ran, I was cornered by more kids. Eventually I gave up and just stopped and let them all tag/try to hurt me. After another round, the bell rang and I went inside to catch my breath enough to teach. This will be the best cardio exercise ever.

The following Monday I had off because the students had gone on Saturday to do disaster preparedness drills, so I had a nice three day weekend. The rest of the week was about the same. In the near future, I’ll chronicle some of the more interesting/funny interactions at my schools.

Next time on a special TGC, I go to a festival in Kishiwada (Osaka) and visit a sort of Mecca in Kyoto. What shenanigans will we get up to? What Mecca is in Kyoto? How much weight would I lose if the Raijin ate my belly? Find out next time on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.

Now, before we begin, I know some of you are thinking, “That’s a kind of weird title.” Others just thought, “Well, the titles are usually kind of weird.” The rest of you have watched anime. Now, while most American tv shows (cartoon and otherwise) tend to use puns or single words for episode titles, Japanese shows work a little differently. While some stick with the single word theme, anime will commonly use a two-sentence grabber that usually includes the subject of the episode and a little phrase describing it (that may or may not translate well). Some examples include ‘Pokémon Match! Serious Battle!’, character intros like ‘Enter the Great Swordsman! Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro!’, and A vs. B or first person titles like ‘Byakugan vs. Shadow Clone! I’ll definitely win!!’ So, in sticking with the Japanesey theme, many titles shall be named with this in mind. There’s your culture lesson for today, so let’s get to the English teaching.

Monday was the usual nothing because the students didn’t start till the next day (September 1st). However, Tuesday was the first day, so I didn’t teach yet. Instead I went to the auditorium in the morning and introduced myself. They were all excited to have a new teacher, and got even more excited when I mentioned things like “I like Smash Bros.” or taekwondo (then added a sidekick so they understood). Wednesday, all the jr. high kids were taking some kind of test, so I didn’t teach them yet either.

Thursday was my first day of actually teaching. It was a good starter school, as the class sizes ranged from only 9 to 20. The first class I taught was nine 4th graders. 4th grade is a good age for kids. They’re not usually completely out of control like the younger students can be, and they haven’t started developing that attitude that middle schoolers have. I gave my presentation (which involved a multiple choice quiz about me (how old, what country, etc.)) in mostly Japanese, because they only know simple words and phrases. We’ve been told to avoid this while teaching so they don’t rely on Japanese, but I’d rather have the kids understand me now and look forward to having me around, then later I can just conveniently forget Japanese. Also, I see the 1st-4th grade kids as rarely as once a month in some schools, so I’m not expecting their English to be much beyond “My name is Yoshi, I like apples. G’dun bom! (I don’t think kids are named Yoshi anymore, but it’s an actual name).” I would also use a lot of hand motions and act things out, which they always enjoyed. At the end, I asked if there were any questions. The first questions were always “what food do you like?” and “what’s your favorite color?” In 4th and 3rd grade, I was also asked what food I don’t like, what anime do I like, where have I been in Japan, etc. Any time I answered the anime question, I’d start by mentioning my favorite Fullmetal Alchemist and Guren Lagan. The teachers would always recognize FMA, but the kids just stared until I mentioned Dragon Ball, One Piece, etc. Ironically, when I was asked what kind of food I hated, I couldn’t think of a good answer. I’m not sure if it’s because there’s so many, or if I don’t hate one vastly more than the others (until it’s in front of me). Usually I just say fish. One girl actually asked the origin of my last name, and who gave me my first name. Since there’s no interesting answer to the latter, I explained middle names to them instead. The strangest question was asked by one of the 4th graders. In fact, it was such a strange question that even though I heard it perfectly, I was sure I misheard it. He asked, “Have you ever seen Top Gun?” The teacher explained that Tom Cruise is very popular now, but even so, Top Gun? That’s your question? Even if the subject was specifically Tom Cruise movies, Top Gun is one of the last ones I’d expect an 11 year old Japanese kid to ask about.

After the 4th graders, I moved down to the 3rd. It was almost identical to 4th with 9 kids, all enthusiastic. I repeated my presentation, and had mostly the same reactions from the kids. My third class was the 6th graders. I knew going into it that the (twenty) 6th graders would not be quite as entertained by the same antics as the 3rd graders, but either way I had to test them and find out what they liked. I was able to use more English with them, but switched back to Japanese whenever they gave me the blank stares (they’re not officially learning yet, so I figured it was fine). I was actually pleasantly surprised at how well the presentation went. However, once it came time for questions, that classic 6th grade shyness kicked in and it was hard to get much out of them after “what food do you like?” The teacher helped me get a few more questions out of them before it was time to go. After that class was lunch. My predecessor always ate lunch with the kids, so I expected that’s what I’d do. However it seems that since I have to bring my own lunch (school lunch is an all or nothing thing, and because of my fish allergy…), I have to eat with the other staff who just kind of ignore me. I wouldn’t mind it as much if my phone signal wasn’t so touchy up here. Some of the 6th graders brought down my laptop for me and asked to see my bento (lunch). I told them that I didn’t actually make anything today, and just got most of it from the konbini (convenience store (which has edible food in Japan)), so they lost interest. After lunch, they have a short time for recess, then cleaning. Yes, cleaning. Japanese schools don’t have janitors because the teachers clean everything every day. It teaches self-respect and all that. After lunch, I finished with sixteen 5th graders (they were delicious). I don’t know if it was because they just ate or if it’s their age, but they were giving me nothing. Two times they giggled a little, but that was it. Usually I get a reaction to either taekwondo or winter stuff and I can elaborate on those and kill more time, but they gave me nothing. At the end, I asked for questions as usual, and after the food question, got nothing. The teacher helped me out a little by asking questions himself, and occasionally the students would think of another, but otherwise nothing. It was a little rough. They did think the face swap of me and my predecessor was hilarious, though. Also, after class, a few of the boys came up and asked who my main character in Smash Bros. was (this became a pretty common question, which I love). They’d be my favorites if I knew their names. Then I went back to the office and did nothing (i.e. wrote this). The next day, my predecessor messaged me saying one of the 6th grade students messaged her and told her she had a lot of fun in my class. That’s a good sign that I’m doing something right at least.

Throughout my quiz, there were some interesting wrong answers that popped up a few times. About as many kids thought I was 29 as 24 (as opposed to 20 and 100, so I kind of expected it). The most interesting one was when I gave them a list of four animals, and had them tell me which one didn’t live in Michigan. Out of squirrels, monkeys, deer, and wolves, they usually chose deer. They were always surprised that Michigan doesn’t have monkeys like they do here (the ones that block the school). They were also amazed at how big American deer are (Japanese deer are all the size of the ones in my Nara pictures). Others included how hot and cold Michigan gets (hell, Michigan people were surprised when parts reached -40°C/F (fun fact: at -40°, both are the same)). Apparently, they don’t really learn about Detroit, or that it makes cars until middle school or after, so that question was usually hard (though the other options are boats, cereal, and pizza, so sometimes they can make a good guess). Luckily this also means they don’t know Detroit is even more famous for guns! I’ll also mention that I have green eyes, which are also super cool (not just to Japanese people, to everyone. I have special eyes). In one class, I even explained how they change color (this is apparently common for green-eyed people). However, I never know since I can’t usually see my eyes (the mirror is for hair, I forget about the rest of my face sometimes). The main goal is to seem as awesome as possible to the kids so they want to learn from you.
Classes are broken down into 1st through 6th hour, with the aforementioned lunch, etc. break a little after noon. Between each hour is a 10 minute break for recess, and by recess I mean “do whatever the **** you want for 10 minutes.” Some kids play outside, some stay in their classes, some go to other classes. I even saw two kids wrestling (if you can call a chubby kid sitting on top of another wrestling).

Friday I went to the slightly bigger Geino elementary school where I taught two classes each of 4th and 5th graders, then the 6th grade class. Just like Toyogaoka, all the 6th graders are in one class, but this time there was 40 of them. The classes worked mostly the same as the previous schools. So far, all the teachers have been willing to work with me to explain and help with things regardless of their English level, which is a good sign. One of the 6th grade girls finally asked the question I expected to be more common: do you have a girlfriend. You can tell this question is coming from the amount of giggling and whispers that precedes it. It’s more of a personal question in Japan than it is in America, so the student who asked it just said it quickly as if it were simply Tourette’s, then quickly sat down. I usually just answered “not yet,” then wink at the teacher if she’s cute (maybe that last part just happens in my head…). One kid asked if I like baseball. I said I’d sometimes go to games and played when I was young. Then another kid asked if I like basketball, and while my first thought was “does it look like I play basketball?” I didn’t want to alienate him, so I just said I’ve been to a few games, but I don’t play (obviously). In most of the classes, there’re one or two special kids who have a helper teacher with them and mostly just quietly sit there and do nothing. However, in one of them, there was a super shy kid who towards the end finally raised his hand and quietly mentioned how much he liked Zelda, too. So after class he came over and I showed him my desktop background and I talked a little about my favorite games (MM&WW) (I couldn’t quite understand what he asked, but I could usually guess).

Since it’ll be a while until I teach most of the younger grades, I haven’t been introduced to them yet, so they often have the funniest reactions to me. In the hall, I saw a kid looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned to look at him, he got surprised and ran off. Some kids will yell “hallo” as they walk by me. Even while teaching, I saw a class of 1st or 2nd graders walk by, all staring at me like they saw a ghost (which makes sense due to my complexion). Remember, most of my predecessors have been Asian girls, so a white guy at school is a strange new thing.

Saturday we go to Osaka for a day of shopping. Is it really possible for me to shop for that long? What treasures await me? What do I usually get from the konbini? Have I seen Top Gun? Find out next time on the Gaijin Chronicles! Dah dahh dadahhh da dahh duuhhh.