ええ... ええ... ええ!!

S. is a soccer fan, which means that I have watched more soccer in the last year than I have ever watched before in my life. I still don't know all the rules, but that's mainly because I keep thinking of it in terms of hockey. But unlike baseball or football, I actually don't mind it being on the TV. That is until one particular commentator starts talking.

Part of our satellite package includes the soccer channels. Twenty-four hours a day, if you're so inclined, you can watch soccer games from, well, Europe mainly. You can either listen to the commentary in English [or whatever language it's broadcast in] or Japanese. There is one Japanese commentator, above and beyond all the others, that annoys the living hell out of me. This man is [for some reason] very popular and seems to do all the well-known teams' games. His commentary seems to only consist of a small amount of chatter followed by a long string of, "eh"s. In Japanese, "ええ" [long A] is a way of saying yes/agreeing with whatever the other person just said, and this fool just agrees with everything the other guy says. In moderation this is not so annoying. However, this guy just goes on and on. He's saying, "ええ," and then the other guy starts saying, "ええ," and it turns into this endless cycle of ええing each other. Sometimes they even say it at the same time.

This doesn't annoy S. He actually likes the guy, enjoys his commentary. I, on the other hand, can't stand it and have to put on headphones to keep myself from going into a rant about the idiocy of the commentator, how annoying the one-upmanship of ええing is and what the hell could they be agreeing with each other about over and over again anyway?!

Why I can't live here forever

The Japanese love learning new languages via late night TV shows...

It's raining missiles

Considering that I'm practically within spitting distance of North Korea, and there is a healthy bit of animosity held by both sides, I should probably be more worried about what that crazy little man with a small penis complex will do... But I'm not. I'm more worried about a possible war and whether or not S. would be forced into military service. I'm not sure if they do that here, but, after some suggestion, he promised me that he wouldn't join--that is, if he has a choice...

Take it back?!

The crowds have been getting to me lately... I'm angry for no reason. I'm sick of the drunk サラリーマン and their female counterparts. On the train I find myself fighting the urge to push people that have innocently bumped into me because the driver hit the brakes too hard or because the train hit that curve that only I seem to know about...

I'm not really homesick, per se, but there are definitely things that I miss. A couple days ago I bought a bottle of my favorite wine. It was on sale and I had had a particularly boring day at work. When I opened it, though, it tasted absolutely horrible. It was as if something had died inside. I had S. taste it, too--just to make sure that it wasn't a sign that my taste buds had gone bad. When I said something about taking it back to the store, he looked at me like I had just sprouted another head. Take it back? Take it back?! This is apparently unheard of in Japan. He was actually shocked when I told him that I used to do it all that time. [For good reason, of course. Like that entire 12-pack of Coke that was just defective enough so that the tab would fly off instead of opening the can... Of course, a few cans I opened with a butter knife, but the Kash N' Karry allowed me to exchange the remaining cans just the same.] Maybe I'm crazy, but I think there's something a little off about a country that doesn't allow you to return defective merchandise. And trust me, when your wine tastes like something died in it, it's defective!!

Kyoto, take 4

My hairdresser told me about a temple in Kyoto where you make wishes to a, "Strange Buddha," [her words, not mine] and, somehow, the wishes come true. This temple was also full of bugs. To be exact, it was full of some kind of bug that sounded like a cricket.

I decided that I want to see this temple where the monks take care of bugs and I can make a wish to a strange buddha. To tell you the truth, I don't know why I had never noticed the temple before. It is on the bus map, after all, and it does have a picture of a bug--instead of the usual picture of some kind of temple. You'd think it would stand out!

S. and I got on a bus and made our way out to the bug temple, called Suzumushidera for those in the know. ["Suzumushi" being the type of bug, and "dera" meaning temple] As usual with us, we were running a little late. The temple closed at 4:30 and it was 4:10 when we got off the bus and started the ascent up the mountain. [Well, hill, really, but with my Florida legs, the damn thing was a mountain!] For most of the hike I was really missing B. and her readiness to take a taxi! That, and I was seriously hoping we'd make it in time so I could use the bathroom! So many cabs passed, but S. just kept on going...

At, what I assumed to be, 4:29 we got to the gate, but before I could find out where the toilet was, we were ushered into a large room full of low tables with cups of tea and small, wrapped sweets at each of the seats. I didn't know what was going on, so I just followed S. as he sat down at one of the spots at the table.

There were four aquarium cages at the front of the room under some air conditioners. A bald monk came out of an adjoining room and turned on a microphone that was hooked onto his robe. And then he started to talk... He went on for at least twenty minutes. The only things I understood were, "...about 4,000," [I assumed he was talking about the bugs in the aquariums] and, "...Golden Week..." He would giggle a little here and there, and the people around me would giggle along with him. [Except for the couple in front of me. They were as bored as I was--and they could understand him!] Even though I really had to pee, I drank my tea, mostly because everyone else was. The sweets were not that sweet and I only finished it because I thought I'd feel a little bad if I left it. That, and there was nothing else to do.

Finally the monk finished. People started getting up. I went to find the toilet.

As we were walking through the gardens, S. told me what the monk had been saying. Apparently he was kind of scolding everyone for treating Kyoto like a sightseeing place. He was saying that people go into the temples and take their pictures and forget that they're in holy places. But he was scolding in such a way that the people were able to think, Oh, well he's not talking about me! I don't do that!

When we left we saw the strange buddha. He didn't look that strange to me. True, he was wearing shoes, but other than that, he was just a regular stone buddha. When we prayed to him, we had to tell him our name and address and then our wish. He would then come to our houses and grant our wishes. [Hence the shoes, and therefore the strangeness] But my wish had to do with America. And I got a good look at those shoes. I don't think he's going to make it there... Not in those raggedy things at least.

Vague threats

So after being here well over a year, I decided that I should probably go ahead and register with the U.S. Embassy, you know, in case of "The Big One." Of course, I had no idea that the Embassy, MY Embassy, would turn over my email address to, I can only hope, the highest bidder. Ever since signing up with them I've been getting all kinds of spam. "How could I know it was the Embassy?" you ask? Because I only give that email address when it's important, i.e. the U.S. Embassy and Amazon.

Today I got a message from the Embassy warning of potential threats somewhere in Japan. Of course, the government didn't tell me any useful information at all--like where this threat is coming from?? Who I should be on the lookout for??? They just said that I should report any suspicious characters to the authorities. Yeah, sure. I think the drunk businessmen are suspicious characters!!

Here's the email, in all it's royal vagueness:

The U.S. Embassy has learned of a possible threat against American
facilities in Japan, the credibility of which has yet to be determined.
Given the upcoming Memorial Day holiday, we advise American citizens to
exercise caution and report any suspicious activities to authorities.

3. For the latest security information, Americans living and traveling
abroad should regularly monitor the Department's Bureau of Consular
Affairs Internet web site at , where the current
Worldwide Caution, Public Announcements, and Travel Warnings can be
found. Up-to-date information on security can also be obtained by calling
1-888-407-4747 toll free in the U.S., or, for callers outside the U.S.
and Canada, a regular toll line at 1-202-501-4444. These numbers are
available from 8:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m. Eastern Time, Monday through
Friday (except U.S. federal holidays).


The American Embassy in Tokyo
American Citizen Services
1-10-5 Akasaka, Minato-ku, Tokyo 107-8420
Tel: 03-3224-5000
Fax: 03-3224-5856
http://japan.usembassy.gov/acs/

You know, I can't even remember when Memorial Day is...

A little knowledge can be a bad thing...

As I was leaving the Gap, a cap-sleeve shirt caught my eye. I was looking for an "M" in tan when the sales lady came up to me. She asked me what size I was looking for and I told her. Of course, they didn't have any tan mediums. She offered me a white medium and I told her that I liked the tan ones.

It's important to point out that this entire dialogue was going on in Japanese. I was quite proud of myself for understanding what she was saying, let alone for being able to talk back to her. I was so proud, in fact, that I began to think that maybe I was wrong for thinking [and saying] that I have two completely worthless Japanese teachers.

So then the Gap lady offered me a tan small, to which I replied, "Wakige tight desu." She laughed for just a second and then composed herself. I thought, Oh, she's laughing cause it's strange that a gaijin would know the word for armpit but not the word for tight... [which, you have to admit, is a little strange...]

I left the Gap without making any purchases, but feeling quite good about myself. Then I got home and told S... The retelling was going quite well. I was smiling, he was smiling, he was saying how great it was that I understood her, and then I got to the wakige part... The minute I said, "Wakige tight desu," and remembered her short [and guffaw like] laugh, I realized my mistake. You see, armpit is "waki" in Japanese. I know this... I do. I also know that when you add "ge" to the end of certain body parts it means said body part's hair. The woman probably didn't understand the word "tight" and instead thought that I was saying that my armpit hair was too long for a small size shirt with such short sleeves.