Takahigashi School Festival

Well… Summer is in full swing whether I like it or not, unapologetically melting my ice cream and giving me sweaty underboob. Also, the 35 degree weather is making my apartment smell like eggs and I simply don’t know what to make of it.

Last weekend was my school’s triennial school festival. These things happen in junior high and high schools here, and it’s basically a showcase of class projects, music, art and food all put together and run by students. Really, it’s just an excuse for them to come up with something creative as a class project that they can show off to their parents or whomever it is they’re trying to get approval from. It’s completely up to the students to decide what they want to do. This year all of the classrooms were gutted of desks and chairs and were transformed into student-run cafés, art displays, reading rooms, and haunted houses. There were also some more civilized/educational ventures set up, such as a land mine information and contribution station, tea ceremony rooms, and various social awareness exhibits. The sophisticated minds in class 1-4 pooled all their collective wisdom and decided that the best thing to do would be to fill their classroom with an ungodly number of balloons for no reason:

There’s no question as to their genius.

The festival lasts for two days, and the second day is open to the public, so I invited Adam along to check it out. We spent some time checking out the classes and eating at the cafes, though Adam spent the majority of the day among a constant mob of giggly high school girls. They descended on him like spider monkeys.

I, in turn, was bombarded with demands to define my relationship to him. In case you’re unaware of the kind of relentless inquisition Japanese high school girls are capable of, it went something like this:

Student: Chelseeeey!

Chelsey: Hi!

Student: *pointing to Adam* Your boyfriend?

Chelsey: Maybe…

Student: *incredulous finger stabby action* Chelsey!

Chelsey: Yes?

Student: *making a heart shape with her hands* LOVE LOVE?

Chelsey: ….

Student: OH YES. IT IS VERY LOVE. WHAT THE FEELING.

It was at this point that we devised a sort of vaudeville “Who’s on first” routine to confuse them while we made our escape.

I drew these handsome caricatures of us. The hearts and whatnot were added later by someone else.

Witness the evolution of origami cranes!

Some random pictures from the festival:

Yes, it's a post about my dinner.

This is my car. It’s a used Mitsubishi minica. It has a dent in it. It turns out that fixing the dent would cost more than the car is worth, so the people who had it before me just bought another one. And now it’s mine. I think it kind of looks like the car Postman Pat used to drive before his mid-life crisis compelled him buy a motorbike. Anyway I’m calling it Kowalski.

And in answer to your question: Yes, it does have retractable wheel saw attachments.

I drove off in search of One-Eyed Willie’s treasure new eateries and found a neat kaiten zushi (conveyor-belt sushi) place. Most places like these are usually self serve to some degree, but this one was almost completely automated. So much so that the only real human contact I had was paying for my meal. The place very well could have been operated lights out, except that people generally don’t like eating in the dark... or if everyone who ate there was blind I suppose that’d be less of a problem. Anyway, you get my point.

Right. So. The first thing you do is sign in your party at a computer which spits out a paper with a number on it. Your number is called and you are assigned a different number which corresponds to your table, which is easy enough to find as both the bar seats and booths are conveniently arranged with Sesame Street-like simplicity. Then you’re free to pick your sushi off the belt as it comes. Making your tea is pretty intuitive. You’re provided with cups and matcha powder, and the hot water dispenser juts out of the wall. How very civilized. If you want to order something, there’s a touch screen display at your table where you can specify what and how much of it you want. All special orders are placed on the belt to eventually make their way to their respective customers. (I suppose it’s an unspoken courtesy not to take someone else’s delicious looking order as it creeps by you.) Your touch display will start flashing when your order is inching towards you because there are microchips in the plates. TECHNOLOGY FTW.

Automated awesomeness aside, kaiten zushi places are fun because some other inventive items totter their way around the belt:

orange juice

burritos

chocolate cake

My Japanese friends claim that the sushi in those places is made by robots. I’m inclined to believe them, but only because the idea of sushi robots makes me happy. Based on my scientistical evaluations, I can only assume there’s something like this going on in the kitchen, despite all impracticalities.

…10 years from now I’ll be getting my sushi from a replicator.

It's fun for all ages! *Except if you're a baby

Again, a huge delay between posts, I’m starting to think this may be a trend. Or the norm. I’m not to blame, really, as I was sick this past week. Maybe I should stop eating all that free candy they hand out in public toilets.

I’m recently 25 and I celebrated my birthday by going to Yokohama, a major city south of Tokyo Metropolis, yet still considered to be in the Greater Tokyo Area. Yokohama has an awesome factor similar to Tokyo’s, in that it’s essentially the urban equivalent of 150 Red Bulls snorted through your nose, only it’s on the water and that makes it more susceptible to giant squid attacks. Two generally agreed upon places worth seeing: Minato Mirai and Chinatown.

This is the much ballyhooed giant Ferris wheel in Minato Mirai, touted as the tallest in the world by most Tokyoites. (A quick Wikipedia check reveals that there are 12 wheels even taller, two of them in Japan.) Anyway, it’s still pretty big, and even though we couldn’t ride it because of the rain, it makes for a neat picture.

Yokohama’s Chinatown is hailed as the place to visit if you’ve ever wanted to go to China, but don’t want to go to China, and it’s one of the world’s largest Chinatowns. (Supersleuth Chelsey says this one checks out.) The place had a credible enough authenticity and the night-time atmosphere is lively. Adam and I embarked on a gastronomic inquiry of the place, ducking in and out of restaurants, ordering a couple dishes at a time, and pairing them with warm sake. There were also tons of streetmeats to be had.

Tourist attractions aside, it’s a pretty cool city to walk around in at night:





On the way back we stopped into Tokyo to check out the Nakizumo (lit. ‘crying sumo’) festival which had been the whole reason for the trip in the first place. Every year Senso-ji temple in Tokyo holds an event where sumo wrestlers pit babies against one another in hardened competition with the desired result of making them bawl. The whole thing goes like this: 100 or so proud mothers parade their babies around and then hand them off to a sumo wrestler. Said sumo wrestler takes offpsring into a ring, faces off against another baby brandishing wrestler, and then the babies get jostled around like little Jell-o bobbleheads. The baby that cries loudest is declared the winner. Occasionally, the babies fail to recognize the unpleasantness of the situation and start enjoying themselves. In such cases, three officials wearing oni (devil) or Groucho glasses come to heckle the babies by repeating nake, nake (cry, cry).

Typically, watching grown men shake babies around until they cry is not on everyone’s birthday wish list. But as you can see, this event was too high-brow to pass on. As we all stood around swirling our brandies and twirling our moustaches, I reflected on whether or not this kind of thing is good for babies. But hey, I'm sure I've been shaken around a lot as a child, but I sorted myself out relatively quickly and by the age of 19 was a halfway normal person, a state which I have maintained with varying success since...

...Though it explains why I can't do simple math in my head.

And for those people who are quick to point the SBS finger, this festival has an ostensibly long, culturally significant history that totally makes everything okay and stuff.

I forgot my camera, and my iPhone pictures just don’t do it justice, so here are some pictures that I’m borrowing from elsewhere on the internet.

Photo credit: Koji Sasahara



Photo credit: vyxle on Flickr

Photo credit: vyxle on Flickr

In other news, Adam just got back from getting a haircut at a random place in our neighbourhood. This is what happened:

Shampoo Lady: Are you an English teacher?

Adam: Assistant Language Teacher.

Shampoo Lady: CHELSEY?

Adam: My name’s Adam, but, yeah, she’s my girlfriend.

Shampoo Lady: Eeeeeeeeh?!

Adam: …….

*Shampoo Lady leaves and her daughter appears out of nowhere*

Daughter: Autograph?

Adam: Sure.

*Daughter gets shooed away by her father*

Barber: After the haircut! By the way, teacher’s boyfriends get free shampoos.

So the moral of the story is that I’m famous and people who know me get moderate favours. Like the Oprah of the Takasaki High School Community.

Cherry Blossoms

Ah, spring. There’s a saying here. They say that when spring comes, the cherry blossoms bloom, and the weirdos come out to play. According to many Japanese, weirdos are seasonal occurrences (debatable) that come out to pester you while you’re trying to enjoy an afternoon in the park. Apparently they’re keen to come over and touch your hair and then go back to creeping everyone out with deranged whispering. With that, please enjoy some pictures that I took while trying to enjoy an afternoon of cherry blossom viewing in the park:

In case you were wondering, I packed another bento for our excursion:

You might say I’m addicted to bento making now. And you’d be correct. You might also say that I need to spend more time having friendly relationships with people instead of spending Friday nights in the kitchen by myself. I’d say things like this shed light on why my high school experience was the way it was. Anyway, I put off starting this one until 12:30 the night before and I didn’t get to bed until 3:30. Needless to say, it was a late start on flower viewing the next day.

In other news, I bought tickets to Fujirock. Between the 1-day and 3-day ticket choices, I opted to do the full 3 days, which cost me ¥39, 800 (that’s nearly 400 dollars in Monopoly money) but it’s totally worth it for a chance to get shickered, avouch my discipline issues, and throw something saucy at the lead singer of Vampire Weekend* …And possibly something heavy and blunt at the frontman for Air.

In a subject change to a topic that has nothing to do with anything, have a look at this:

Cute, right? This is Rilakkuma, a popular character in Japan somewhat akin to Hello Kitty. Cute as he may be, I find his backstory to be a little disturbing:

Rilakkuma mysteriously appears in the female office worker
Kaoru's apartment one day. He is a soft toy bear who has apparently decided to
take up residence there. On his back is a zipper which when opened reveals a
light blue polka dot patterned material. The contents or nature of this zipper
is unknown.

It is implied that…his entire lower body is a costume,
which he will often replace when it gets old or dirty (Rilakkuma is frequently
seen sitting around waiting for suits that look exactly like him to dry on the
clothes line). However, it is not clear whether his head is also part of his
costume. -Wikipedia

Is anyone else a little creeped out by this? If I had something like this going on in my apartment I would run screaming out of my place like a maniac, grabbing passers-by by the shoulders and shaking them and insisting that THERE’S AN ALIEN FURRY WASHING HIS BEAR SKIN-SUITS BACK THERE HALP MEH etc etc.

*Not as emo as it sounds. Why do so many good bands insist on terrible names?

Temples and Castles and Post-towns

Spring is finally here, much to the dismay of many Japanese people who suffer from an aggravated type of hay fever (kafunsho), and who consider spring to be the most miserable season. I’m quite healthy and am enjoying the plum blossoms.

This weekend we took a trip out to Nagano to do some sightseeing. First stop was Zenko-ji, a rather hugeish temple right in the heart of Nagano city. This temple is not unlike most temples, except that it has a passageway leading underground where you must navigate your way through to the other end in complete darkness. You’re supposed to run your hands along the walls and try to find a protruding key that, once found, will unlock your path to enlightenment. As innocuous as it sounds, the total darkness thing may lead those with disturbed overactive minds to foresee unfriendly encounters with any number of things. Like a Rapeceratops. Or his more terrifying big brother, Rapeasaurus Rex.

Having emerged alive, our next stop was in Matsumoto to visit a national treasure. Matsumoto castle is nicknamed The Crow because of its black exterior and wing-shaped roof. Castles are much more accessible to tourists than temples are because you can poke around inside and check out the keep and storage areas.

Samurai armour rocked several different moustache types. Behold the upside-down Walrus Moustache:

Last stop was Kiso Valley, where we visited some post-towns. Here’s the abbreviated history behind this: The Tokugawa government imposed a kind of back-and-forth system whereby every year all the shogun would have to travel between Edo (Tokyo) and their domain. Along the main travel route to/from Edo, a series of little towns popped up to provide shogun and their samurai with rest and food. Two of these towns are preserved in Kiso Valley, and one is still inhabited. They are very much unchanged from how they looked when they were built (sans slightly unhinged honour-obsessed samurai stabbing each other in the goolies).

Note my new haircut, which is cheekily referred to as He-Man hair by my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

On the second night of our trip we had unknowingly stumbled upon Japan’s stinky armpit, a town called Nakatsugawa. I won’t bore you with details, other than that everything we touched was sticky, but the clinching factor was that Adam and I both hated it and were unable to leave because our scheduled train kept on NOT COMING. It was like it was some voodoo ghost town that doesn’t exist except in your most vivid nightmares. We were lucky enough to catch a train out of there after waiting 3 hours, and we didn’t look back.

HATE HATE HATE HATE HATEH AHET HTATE

Overall, it was an intriguing couple of days. Interested parties can click here for more photo goodness.

Bento

No real blog post, just pictures of another bento I made:


I made this for Adam because he had to take a long train ride out for a business trip on a Saturday. Cute, ne? A mawkish lunch such as this should do well to boost my reputation as a caring and generous individual despite the fact that I am small-minded and mean and sometimes involuntarily creepy.

About Valentine's... mostly.

Happy February! As of the 27th, I will have been living in Japan for 7 months. I suppose I completely glossed over the half-a-year milestone, so I’m celebrating by eating some turducken. Well, not really, but I will stuff some food into some other delicious food stuffed into some other delicious food. I’ll probably make ramadamatamagoyakiso…ba.

Valentine’s Day was mostly spent nerding around at some museums this year. We went to the Tokyo National Museum, the oldest and largest museum in Japan, which houses an excellent Asian exhibit and a ton of National Treasures. I’m happy to report that I learned the Japanese word for Archduke (taikou) from an old-timey English-Japanese dictionary. I do hope it comes in handy. We also went to a futuristic science museum on Odaiba, a man-made island near Tokyo Bay. Odaiba is well-known for its newfangled architecture. Check out the Fuji TV building:

Among the exhibits at the science museum were a giant pinball machinesque simulation of the internet, real-time displays of data from a huge array of seismometers across Japan which show the whole country vibrating, Asimo/other cool robotic business, and space stuff. I was looking forward to seeing the Maglev Train model, but couldn’t find it. There was also an exhibit devoted to creating awareness about man’s negative environmental impact, and Adam and I exchanged ironic glances as we stood on the artificially made ground. At any rate, I feel safe knowing that the mountain warrior-priest responsible for Japan’s ninja-grip on technology is using it for good, not evil.

I packed this bento for our lunch, my best attempt to date. By the way, bentos have been way easier to make now that I have access to every kind of Japanese ingredient. The pink heart sushi was made with denbu, which is a kind of fish egg product, only it’s sweet and very pink. And my octodogs aren’t gross anymore, because now I can use sausages specially made for octodogging purposes.

When we sat down and cracked out the bento, in less than two seconds a bird came over and pooed on it, with fevered intent. I swear to god it was just waiting for us. Luckily, only one of the tamago pieces was soiled, which was easily isolated and disposed of. Adam graciously ate from the poo-bento first, while I cursed all birds to hell with angry fist-shaky action. I was disinclined to partake, as I am neurotic about poo-related skin diseases, but Adam said it was fine and I eventually gave in.

While we’re on the subject, and this being the classy blog it is, here’s a textbook example of the tendency for Japanese to anthropomorphize everything, sometimes with terrifying results:

Anyway, as the day wrapped up, Godzilla came over and stomped on the Fuji TV building and we ran for our lives.

Voilà, c’est la fin.