Something Irrelevant

I’m beginning to take for granted the fact you can buy used records in Japan with the assumption that they haven’t been scratched or warped and don’t have a missing jacket or poster. I remember searching through multiple copies of albums like Joni Mitchell’s “Blue”: pulling them out, tilting them in the light, even sniffing to check for tobacco. I now buy without so much as checking. I sometimes get the feeling I’m the first person who’s ever listened to a particular record I’ve purchased. Virtually the only non-essential shopping I do in Japan is at the used vinyl shops. The selection is amazing and the preserved quality is likely unparalleled in the world. In American shops such as Cellophane Square or Amoeba Records I would want to be sure I had something good. Here, it’s a given. It would be paradise, if not for the prices. A copy of Wings “Band on the Run” in the States might be $0.50; In Japan it’s around $7.00 for a good specimen. I’m afraid that when I return home to ‘Merica the hundred or so records I left behind will not be up to my fidelity standards. I guess there are more pressing issues at hand, but anyway…

Fall, So Far...

It’s been raining since before I awoke on my hand-me-down futon, and somehow I’ve fallen ill on my day off. The only item on the agenda today is laundry, probably a good day to reflect on the events of the past few weeks and to drink lots of fluids. It’s also a good day for a haircut. I’m beginning to look a lot like Captain Planet. At this time last year I had grown my hair out and dyed it orange for a Ziggy Stardust costume. There is the temptation this year to reprise that role, but professionally….

I’ve been in Japan for thirteen months now; I’ll be here for a further eighteen. I’ve realized that there are benefits to being a foreigner in a homogeneous society, and there are certainly burdens. After all of this is over, and I’ve been living in the United States again for some time, it might be possible for me to draw some conclusions about race and nationality in both societies. These days I’m just guessing. One thing I know is that I got a place in the 2010 Tokyo Marathon because of my nationality. Of the 400,000 applicants this year only 32,000 will run. All were chosen by “lottery”. Out of the three foreigners I know who registered, three were chosen. I know one Japanese man who’s applied four times and never been chosen. Even if it is about money for the organizers from tourism and travel, I still feel a bit guilty about my advantage. However, the guilt will probably all fade away when/if I cross the finish line on Feb. 28th.

Photo: Homemade Natto Omelet

Summer, So Far...

Since my Independence Day message last month I’ve been enjoying my summer holiday in Japan greatly (before that, not so much). My old friend Michael from Washington State visited from the 8^th to the 21^st of July; leading me on an adventure to Sumo in Nagoya and a memorable, if not majestic, climb of Mount Fuji. We set off quite naïve about the challenge before us, hoping to watch a sunrise after an overnight climb. I believe we packed more weight in celebration beer than in rain gear. After a clear and calm climb three quarters of the way to the summit, a storm brought us to our knees and we were forced by driving rain and high winds to seek shelter for the night in a restroom. The restroom was already inhabited by an American man climbing for charity, Lewis, pictured here second from the top. We had a phenomenal conversation with him during our four-hour stay in the restroom, interrupted by short naps and the entrance of eight Japanese climbers apparently suffering from hypothermia and exhaustion. We didn’t see the sunrise at 4:30 that morning, but we left with a greater appreciation for 3,776 meters and a sense of accomplishment. Michael did much less complaining and cursing on the difficult decent from Fuji than I did. He also showed great patience with my students and the many people we encountered together during his visit to Japan. Adaptability, compassion and calmness are characteristics that Michael has shown all the years I’ve known him. I’m confident he is well suited for his year-long adventure in Johannesburg, South Africa. He’ll be a missionary there beginning this month. Keep him in your prayers as he serves there!

On July 22^nd, the morning after Michael left Tokyo, I began what would be the single most challenging experience of my life since bullying in junior high, the cycling tour! That rainy Wednesday I was awakened, just moments before my alarm, by a small earthquake. I believe it’s no coincidence that the Japanese words for both earthquake and self-confidence are the same, jishin. Following that seismic calling to success, I set forth with a foolish boldness. This was my first cycling tour and, as often is the case with my adventures, I was alone. You wouldn’t have thought I was alone while riding, my mouth uttering something audible all day long. I must have sounded like a madman, sometimes cursing, sometimes singing, other times grunting or even screaming in pain. And then there were the prayers. There were the steadily quickening Lord’s Prayers as I raced through tens of dark tunnels in Hokkaido, chased by drivers oblivious to my vulnerable bicycle, the angry cries for healing as I climbed mountains, my knees plagued by excruciating tendonitis, and the prayers asking God just why he had made me so stupid as to think I’d survive alone in the Japanese countryside. The conflict between the jishin and those prayers is apparent now, after the typhoon, the 25 flat tires, a mild case of hypothermia, the week of tendinitis, the surprise allergic reaction to insect bites and the crash. When I left, I had something to prove. I wanted to become a real cyclist. I wanted to do something I could brag about. In the end, God proved something. God proved that I needed others to be successful; I needed to take a path of humility to earn confidence. There were times I was blessed with peace of mind, safety, comfort and a free beer at the end of the day, and there was that hour I spent beaten to a pulp and in tears on the side of a cold, rainy highway with a flat (emo, I know). The morning after I returned to Tokyo, sunburned and a little worse for wear, I was awakened by a much stronger earthquake than the one which had begun the whole ordeal. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, but I like to think its greater magnitude mirrored my self-confidence, now grounded in a greater sense of humility. Final assessment: best trip ever. Look! More pictures!

Photos: Me with new friends and fellow cyclist before dancing in the Nebuta festival, my beautiful 25-year old bike in front of a waterfall near Towadako, Nebuta Festival in Aomori City, 500km from Tokyo on Route 4

Thank you everyone who read my postings on Twitter and prayed for my safety!

Independence Day

Happy Fourth of July!

It’s hard for me to believe that my first semester of teaching is almost finished. So much has happened since the last time I wrote, more than two months ago, and I hardly know where to start. I have greatly enjoyed teaching English as well as bible to my students every day. I’m almost certain I learn more from each English and bible lesson than my students. As I answer questions about English grammar and parse the meaning of bible verses, I am required to think in ways I never have before about things I always thought I understood. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t really understand something until I’m able to adequately teach it to someone else. A rough idea doesn’t cut it in the classroom. I don’t see myself teaching English forever, but I do see teaching in my future. Teaching is the first job I’ve had that hasn’t made me bored at work.

Japan’s infamous wet season or tsuyu has cast its cloudy shadow over Tokyo recently. Tsuyu is characterized by rain, overcast skies and, most terrifying of all, humidity. I came to Japan from a place with a six month wet season, so the rain and overcast skies are really no problem, considering they only last about six weeks. The humidity however is less welcome. I can survive sleeping without covers at night, smelling a little musty, and the constant sweat on the backs of my knees, but the one thing that I may never forgive tsuyu for is its adverse effect on my clothesline. I can’t seem to get my cottons and linens dry before they go rancid, forget denim! Anyway, it should all be over in the next month.

In addition the damp days of early summer and the end of my semester I have one other important update to share. It concerns my summer vacation. My first idea for a break this year was to lie on my back for six weeks, listen to records and drink beer. I quickly realized this would get boring after about three records and would probably result in a blood clot or something. Japanese beer isn’t really all that good either. The more active and adventurous alternative was an epic cycling tour of Japan’s northeast coast. My plan is to take a ferryboat from Oarai, a city northeast of Tokyo, to the island of Hokkaido. From the port city of Tomakomai I will pedal down to Hakodate at the southern tip of Hokkaido. From there I will board a ferryboat to Oma, located at the northern tip of Aomori Prefecture. From there I will continue down the east coast of Honshu through Sendai, hopefully returning to Tokyo. It figures to be around 1600km or 1000mi in total over about a five-week period. I hope to camp on the beach, in parks and in campgrounds along the way. I feel rather self-sufficient living alone in my Tokyo apartment, knowing how to get food, where to sleep and how to pay the bills. I figure this adventure will be a good shock to the system. Undoubtedly there will be many humbling experiences and encounters with the local people throughout the journey. I look forward to begging for God’s guidance and grace along the way, as is always par for the course when I attempt things of this magnitude.

You can view updates from my tour on a Twitter account I reluctantly created at twitter.com/thecyclingtour. I’ll be “on tour” from July 22^nd until late August.

God’s Blessings! Thanks for reading!

Photos: Two Matthews and a Carp (Koi), an honor system farmer's market, Eric, Kiyomi and rainbow trout

Wrong Number

Today I received my first wrong number phone call on my Japanese cell phone. I don’t know why, but hearing the confusion on the other end of the line was really hilarious. I told whoever it was, in Japanese, my name, my nationality and that I was not Shizuko or whoever it was they wanted. It wasn’t the high point of my week, but I may remember it longer than those great pancakes I made.

In other news, I’ve completed my first week and a half of teaching. It’s been fantastic! With the exception of the inevitable battles with dry mouth and a fatigued jaw from speaking so much, it’s been more enjoyable than I’d ever imagined. I teach advanced and pre-intermediate classes as well as an English bible study. In the advanced classes I only facilitate discussions and provide information about nuance, word usage and grammar (typically). In the pre-intermediate classes I am much more involved. I must encourage bravery and confidence, and I often shower students with praise just for speaking. Usually, if I stop talking, it becomes silent. In an advanced class this is never a problem. The ideal situation is one where I can’t get a word in edgewise. When two Japanese people are in a heated argument about the environment, in English, I know I’ve succeeded. Getting my advanced students to teach one another and my pre-intermediate students to confidently speak in English (even poor English) is my goal. From where I sit today, that’s doable. I’ve been getting a real rush out of teaching and I find it hard to sleep after my evening classes; my mind still throwing out random vocabulary like swap meet or carpel tunnel. I look forward to more sleepless nights!

As I sit here in my Tokyo apartment each night and decompress, trying not to suffer from the bends of culture shock, I often take a look at news from home. One awesome personal testimony about real life in the Pacific Northwest is Troy’s Work Table blog. Be it a beer review or photos from the hundred-year-flood of ‘08, I truly appreciate the genius in the simple details. I suggest y’all take a look! Peace and God bless y’all!

Photos: Milk made from fresh milk (thank God), All about Ichiro and #3085,

The First Day

Today I begin teaching my first official English class to advanced speakers. There are plenty of things to be anxious about. I don't know what kind of people are coming, or how many students will be in my class. I'm most concerned right now about selecting a conversation topic that will be both accessible and interesting for my students.
Don't get the impression that I'm all nerves. I'm excited to meet new people who speak English well AND to hear the sound of my own voice! Maybe I'm most fearful of being too confident. Please keep my students and me in your prayers! I'll let you know how it goes. Peace.

Ochanomizu Station

Can you hear my heavy breathing? It was an awesome spring day today in Tokyo. I went for a little cycling trip to Akihabara and Ochanomizu to look for a new or used turntable and to enjoy the scenery. Sorry about the graininess of the video, Blogger's fault, I promise. This is probably my favorite train station in Tokyo, you can get anywhere from here, and fast.