BabelDutch
Admission: The following post is written by a childish Ruben in Dutch, and translated with the aid of Babelfish, the online translation program. (Italics are English)
Thus, many people question me or I well Dutch can talking. Or I everything on TV understand, or if I can write well. It is Difficult a thing exactly, say because there is no real level where I sit on. Everything that I know in the Dutch are to my sometimes Nazi grateful--like parents. Then we at home were, a house rule was that was prohibited English. Was extremely annoying, and I a lot of time has had sentence for when I English spoke.
I mean, because Dutch always my language was in the house, most things is easy for concerning at talking. What is for evening meal? what I you done today? I can it car has tomorrow? No? Why not? Ya, but (brother) had used it today! That is not honest! Why do you hate me? Ya but, I I, no goeie… goddammit. Listen to me. No! No! Ya but I must go there for... Okay FUCK OFF! I' ll go to my room by myself, thanks you very much. Good fucking night, and thanks!
I entirely never Dutch have taken lesson, I never look at Dutch TV if film then I lived in new sea country. I had no Dutch friends, and the children who it was possible, however, it will be simply stupid for with each other in Dutch at talking. It was not be nice for differently. Neither with my brother, even now, he feel simply strange for in and other language at talking then English. Thus, I used Dutch actual only measured my parents. Plus, I was for two three years in Japan, with perhaps telephone each couple of weekends. There never this way much chance was for Dutch at talking. But, it goes. I have to no problem follow an interlocution, or to teleview. Sometimes, if it concerns economy, or of the foreigner is to talking, know I not entirely where concerns, but in context, it a problem is not.
But write, ordinary… yes, how can am I best say? It feels just like if I am really stupid. Just like or I to school have not gone. That I have things in my head who not come. I feel almost as demented… I know that there a better word for that is. Gestilijke… It is this way…!!!!
Okay, that actually makes me look incredibly stupid. But I swear, some of that is Babelfish's fault. I don't agree with translation. Things must be interpreted, not translated.
The point is, I am finding it difficult to judge where I am with my language ability here. On the one hand, I hardly ever have to stop a conversation because I can't follow. Sure, sometimes I like to clarify a certain word that comes up frequently. I wrote this last time I came to Holland, but it does feel like I have had been shot in the head, and I am trying to rewire my brain around the things I have lost. Then I will kung-fu fight Lucy Liu to the death.
Even in small social situations, I am even more awkward than usual. The language isn't the problem, as much as the subtle nuances of how to use it. When I buy something at a shop, I hardly say a word. What am I supposed to say? Would it be wierd to say "here you are", when I hand over the money? Am I thinking too much? Oh shit, I just dropped my change. Evacuate before you look like a fool!
One thing I have noticed is that Dutch people speak from their intestines. My god, they belt out their sentences, as if they have all been trained in the Opera. Especially coming from Japan, where people are meeker than a gay kitten, this is going to be an adjustment for me. But in general, I can dance around the words I don't know or am not comfortable in using.
Writing, however, is the zinger. See, I have never been very good at speaking. Or, at least, I try not to speak too much. It has never been so important to me. I like to be compact with what I say. That's why, I prefer writing. The written word is a glorious thing. "I think with my pen"s is my motto. I have a stack of Diaries that document every boring day of my life since 7 1/2 years ago. (They are very boring. They usually say things like: "I went ___ and I write for a while. Then I went home and wrote some more...").
What I am saying is, I define myself as someone who writes a lot, and in Holland that doesn't mean so much. Apparently, my Dutch writing sounds like I am South African. (This is supposed to be a jesty-insult), so I have a lot to work on. Just living here isn't enough. Watching TV isn't enough. I have a notebook where I write down unknown words I come across and look them up later, but even that might not be enough.
I guess you can't have it both ways. When I was in New Zealand, no-one ever considered me to be Dutch. I wanted it to be somehow obvious. In Japan, I wanted to blend in completely, like a leaf-shaped insect. In Holland, I can't decide which way I want to go yet. Hopefully I can decide soon, and express it in my "interlocution"...
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Language Silimarities
I want to be serious for a moment. This is an anecdote from over seven years ago, and I keep thinking back to it. It sums up so much of what I can't explain in human words.
See, it was back when I was 16 years old, and it was my school trip to Japan. It was before I fell in love with being a Japan cynic. We went to various significant Japanese cultural centres to teach us the importance of history, human relations, and about ourselves. For example, I learnt that karaoke is fun, as long as no-one else is singing. I learnt that traveling to the oppoosite side of Tokyo takes a little bit longer than 30 minutes. I learnt that folding paper cranes can bring world peace and that Hiroshima doesn't glow anymore. I learnt that sharing an ice-cream or everyone using their own chopsticks in a communal bowl won't necessarily give you meningitis. I learnt that you should never visit theme parks in a group of odd numbers.
"Oh, it's okay, I will go on this ride by myself this time. You two have fun." (repeat at every single ride.)
Although I would never have admitted it at the time, it was a very educational trip. Perhaps the most valuable lesson however, was when I saw Mickey Mouse. I presume that this was when we went to Disneyland, but well, actually, I don't remember precisely. He is so popular that it could have been anywhere in Japan. (even Hiroshima).
At some stage, I was looking at all the characters. These same characters I watched in New Zealand every saturday morning before tennis practices. Goofy, Pluto, Donald, Minnie, Daisy and Mickey. Then Mickey opened his fat head and his whiney little voice came out. And I couldn't understand anything. It was disorienting. I turned to whoever I was with at the time, and I said:
"Mice don't speak Japanese. They speak English." I was dead serious.
I knew it was a funny thing that I accidentally said, but I have never been able to let go of this idea. I think many people also feel the same way. I once had a heated argument with a Japanese person about what language animals speak. I have looked at hundreds of dogs and wondered what language they speak. 'If only you spoke Engish'.
I have even looked at non-domesticated animals in Japan and felt that they speak English. I think children are so raised on animal cartoons, that even as adults, we expect them to be able to speak... Our language. This is especially true in Japan, where government addresses are made by fluffy, googly-eyed Koala bears, but even in western countries. The penguin epic documentary movie 'March of the Penguins' was voiced over in French is an overboard example. Just look at any "family movie", and there will always be a talking animal. We are educated so ignorantly, when animals are easier to understand than foreigners.
Why not visit Athens Disneyland, coming soon to you in the old Olympic village? Mickey says: "Γειά σου, είμαι ποντίκι εμπαιγμών και ζω στην Αθήνα! Είμαι ένας από τους λίγους ζωικούς χαρακτήρες κινουμένων σχεδίων που φορά τα εσώρουχα. Whoopee!"
In my defence, out of the Disney Chracters, I always liked Pluto the best. And for Warner Bros, I liked Cyote and Road Runner, and Speedy Gonzalez (who I couldn't understand anyway.) Also, our family raised Yuki, our border collie bilingually. For example, it knows the word for "ball" in English, and "ball" in Dutch. She knows every command in both languages, and many words from conversations. Still, this is a lesson that I wish everybody could experience for themselves. Go to Toyko Disneyland, or Taiwan Disneyland, or wait a few years and go to Hong Kong Disneyland.
In the meantime, I found a Silimarity that is hard to spot. These are two pictures of red striped terrapins. They are both where the owners originally thought, "Wow, turtles make excellent pets. Okay honey, you can keep it if you promise to feed it." and then later thought, "I think I am going to dump this crappy pet in a ditch. Yes my friends. Excuse the pun, but these are runaway turtles. One photo is from Holland, and one from Japan. You know, for all the distance between these turtles, you just know that if they ever met, they would hump like rabbits. Because sometimes, the best language is no language at all.
"You know, Raphael, sometimes I feel like you never listen to me, like you are only with me for the sex"
I want to be serious for a moment. This is an anecdote from over seven years ago, and I keep thinking back to it. It sums up so much of what I can't explain in human words.
See, it was back when I was 16 years old, and it was my school trip to Japan. It was before I fell in love with being a Japan cynic. We went to various significant Japanese cultural centres to teach us the importance of history, human relations, and about ourselves. For example, I learnt that karaoke is fun, as long as no-one else is singing. I learnt that traveling to the oppoosite side of Tokyo takes a little bit longer than 30 minutes. I learnt that folding paper cranes can bring world peace and that Hiroshima doesn't glow anymore. I learnt that sharing an ice-cream or everyone using their own chopsticks in a communal bowl won't necessarily give you meningitis. I learnt that you should never visit theme parks in a group of odd numbers.
"Oh, it's okay, I will go on this ride by myself this time. You two have fun." (repeat at every single ride.)
Although I would never have admitted it at the time, it was a very educational trip. Perhaps the most valuable lesson however, was when I saw Mickey Mouse. I presume that this was when we went to Disneyland, but well, actually, I don't remember precisely. He is so popular that it could have been anywhere in Japan. (even Hiroshima).
At some stage, I was looking at all the characters. These same characters I watched in New Zealand every saturday morning before tennis practices. Goofy, Pluto, Donald, Minnie, Daisy and Mickey. Then Mickey opened his fat head and his whiney little voice came out. And I couldn't understand anything. It was disorienting. I turned to whoever I was with at the time, and I said:
"Mice don't speak Japanese. They speak English." I was dead serious.
I knew it was a funny thing that I accidentally said, but I have never been able to let go of this idea. I think many people also feel the same way. I once had a heated argument with a Japanese person about what language animals speak. I have looked at hundreds of dogs and wondered what language they speak. 'If only you spoke Engish'.
I have even looked at non-domesticated animals in Japan and felt that they speak English. I think children are so raised on animal cartoons, that even as adults, we expect them to be able to speak... Our language. This is especially true in Japan, where government addresses are made by fluffy, googly-eyed Koala bears, but even in western countries. The penguin epic documentary movie 'March of the Penguins' was voiced over in French is an overboard example. Just look at any "family movie", and there will always be a talking animal. We are educated so ignorantly, when animals are easier to understand than foreigners.
Why not visit Athens Disneyland, coming soon to you in the old Olympic village? Mickey says: "Γειά σου, είμαι ποντίκι εμπαιγμών και ζω στην Αθήνα! Είμαι ένας από τους λίγους ζωικούς χαρακτήρες κινουμένων σχεδίων που φορά τα εσώρουχα. Whoopee!"In my defence, out of the Disney Chracters, I always liked Pluto the best. And for Warner Bros, I liked Cyote and Road Runner, and Speedy Gonzalez (who I couldn't understand anyway.) Also, our family raised Yuki, our border collie bilingually. For example, it knows the word for "ball" in English, and "ball" in Dutch. She knows every command in both languages, and many words from conversations. Still, this is a lesson that I wish everybody could experience for themselves. Go to Toyko Disneyland, or Taiwan Disneyland, or wait a few years and go to Hong Kong Disneyland.
In the meantime, I found a Silimarity that is hard to spot. These are two pictures of red striped terrapins. They are both where the owners originally thought, "Wow, turtles make excellent pets. Okay honey, you can keep it if you promise to feed it." and then later thought, "I think I am going to dump this crappy pet in a ditch. Yes my friends. Excuse the pun, but these are runaway turtles. One photo is from Holland, and one from Japan. You know, for all the distance between these turtles, you just know that if they ever met, they would hump like rabbits. Because sometimes, the best language is no language at all.
"You know, Raphael, sometimes I feel like you never listen to me, like you are only with me for the sex"
Friday, September 26, 2008
More Silimarities
Okay, on 2nd thought, this Silimarity wasn't as difficult as I originally thought. Damn. I will have to try harder. I will keep looking out for anything that is the same, and ignore anything different, new, interesting, fun, exciting, worthwhile, novel, entertaining, challenging, thought-provoking e.t.c.
Because ignorance of our differences is the only way to overcome ignorance of our same-points. Never fear, I am on the case.
Okay, on 2nd thought, this Silimarity wasn't as difficult as I originally thought. Damn. I will have to try harder. I will keep looking out for anything that is the same, and ignore anything different, new, interesting, fun, exciting, worthwhile, novel, entertaining, challenging, thought-provoking e.t.c.
Because ignorance of our differences is the only way to overcome ignorance of our same-points. Never fear, I am on the case.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Princess
To start this new phase in my life, I felt I needed a slight image change. It began shortly after my last day of work, 2 months ago, when I stopped shaving. After all, I was homeless and jobless. It just fits. This doesn't mean that I suddenly turned into a ware-wolf. I was after-all, a late bloomer. But it was nice to be able to display my bum-ness to the world.
Somewhat surprisingly, I was able to grow something that closely resembled a beard. Some even said that it didn't look ridiculous. I will claim that as a compliment. At 23 1/2, I was ready to enter the world of manly men, and yesterday I proudly became the owner of a "beard-trimmer".
Now, I often made fun of Japanese people's inability to use correct English, for example:
What isn't to be loved about Engrish? But to be fair, Engrish isn't purely a Japanese thing. I found this beauty in Korea.
Dutch people are said to be generally very proficient in English, which is a shame. There is so much entertainment value in people making mistakes. However, Dutch people are far from immune from mistakes in English. Instead if "Engrish", I like to call it "Englisch".
Here is a photo of my beard-trimmer set. It is a cordless, rechargeable shaver with two adjustable beard-length attachments, two small brushes, a comb, a battery-powered nostril and ear-trimmer, and a small bottle of oil. Perhaps you noticed the brand name, "Princess".
Great, so the manliest purchase of my life has the word "Princess" on it. If this doesn't register as suspicious to you, you probably speak "Englisch".
Every time I 'manscape' myself, the very manscaping tool I am using is calling me- as Senator Schwarzenegger would say- a "Girly-man". The box advertises the shaver as "Champaign colour", and the company slogan is: "What's a home without a princess?"
Wow. I know Holland is a tolerant country, but I didn't know that tolerance involved calling EVERYONE a fag. I researched the company, and the company website revealed some interesting facts.
Sometimes it is neccessary to spoil yourself like a princess.
To start this new phase in my life, I felt I needed a slight image change. It began shortly after my last day of work, 2 months ago, when I stopped shaving. After all, I was homeless and jobless. It just fits. This doesn't mean that I suddenly turned into a ware-wolf. I was after-all, a late bloomer. But it was nice to be able to display my bum-ness to the world.
Somewhat surprisingly, I was able to grow something that closely resembled a beard. Some even said that it didn't look ridiculous. I will claim that as a compliment. At 23 1/2, I was ready to enter the world of manly men, and yesterday I proudly became the owner of a "beard-trimmer".
Now, I often made fun of Japanese people's inability to use correct English, for example:
What isn't to be loved about Engrish? But to be fair, Engrish isn't purely a Japanese thing. I found this beauty in Korea.
Dutch people are said to be generally very proficient in English, which is a shame. There is so much entertainment value in people making mistakes. However, Dutch people are far from immune from mistakes in English. Instead if "Engrish", I like to call it "Englisch".
Here is a photo of my beard-trimmer set. It is a cordless, rechargeable shaver with two adjustable beard-length attachments, two small brushes, a comb, a battery-powered nostril and ear-trimmer, and a small bottle of oil. Perhaps you noticed the brand name, "Princess".Great, so the manliest purchase of my life has the word "Princess" on it. If this doesn't register as suspicious to you, you probably speak "Englisch".
Every time I 'manscape' myself, the very manscaping tool I am using is calling me- as Senator Schwarzenegger would say- a "Girly-man". The box advertises the shaver as "Champaign colour", and the company slogan is: "What's a home without a princess?"
Wow. I know Holland is a tolerant country, but I didn't know that tolerance involved calling EVERYONE a fag. I researched the company, and the company website revealed some interesting facts.
- It is a Dutch company.
- It manufactures a complete range of home, kitchen and personal-care appliances.
- It is the world's largest supplier of small domestic products in chrome.
- It uses "genuine Dutch design", as if that is supposed to be a good thing. Is it? "Dutch design" somehow doesn't have the same ring to it as "Swiss design".
- The logo is either a princess' crown, or a skeleton flipping you the bird.
- I am jobless
- It was the cheapest one available
- It was too funny to not buy
Sometimes it is neccessary to spoil yourself like a princess.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
"Pointy shoes"
Unless I don't want to be, I am always a people-person. I will always go that extra kilometre to please. Although I no longer want to teach, I do want to educate. That is why, I had to react when I got an email from an unnamed source the other day. He/she wrote:
"Will you send me a picture of you next to a windmill? (preferably wearing pointy shoes...really sorry, what are those called?) Or have a picture with all of the above, with you sticking your finger in a dam. That would be an awesome overly gimmicky postcard!! Too bad it's not tulip season...."
Oh, where to start...
- Pointy shoes. They are called "santa's little helper boots". Why do people always focus on the shoes? I once read an article of a
study that found that the first thing women notice about a man is their shoes. Sure, this friend was a woman, and I guess if they are pointy shoes, that would be fair enough. But there is more to Dutch costume than just the shoes. How about the striped red-and-green tights with the pompom on top? - Next to a windmill. Second of all, do people really think that windmills are all over Holland, and that every single town has a windmill? Many towns have several.
- Sticking your finger in a dam hasn't been needed for many years now, and unlike this American friend is led to believe, in Holland is many years ahead in the field of dam-making. Dams don't regularly break anymore.
- Too bad is not tulip season. Rest assured, that somewhere in the world, it is always tulip season.
Ah, what the hell.
Seasons Greetings!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Silimarities
Japan is famous for the squalid living conditions and tiny box aparthei.. I mean, "apartments" in the big city. It's a tiny country with a huge population. In fact, in the ranking of population densities, it is...32nd? Really? Only 339 per square kilometre? Wow. Holland is 25th, although 18.4% of that so-called land, is actually water. So either, Dutch people are fresh-water mermaids, or the population density is much higher than the 395 /sqkm.
So Dutch people also live in tiny box apartments. I am staying at my Opa's house, which I remembered to be a miserable and cramped human-cage, which, after Japan, I have no problem with anymore. So, Opa picked me up from the airport, and we went home. My god! This place is vast. It was so large, I couldn't see the end of the hallway over the horizon. I wanted to yodel to test out the echo. You need a compass and bushman to find the kitchen.
Wow. So maybe the small apartments isn't a similarity between the two countries.
One thing that hasn't changed is that people try to practice their English with me. This was my biggest peeve in Japan, where many people would see me and refuse to speak Japanese, preferring to use their hopeless English. I looked forward to going to somewhere where no-one presumes I don't speak the local language. I look Dutch enough, and I speak Dutch relatively well. On the surface, I seem to blend in. No-one suspects that I am secretly Japanese.
However, the other day, I went to an information centre at a train station. I asked the kindly lady: "waar is het University visitor's centre?"
She replied, "Go outside, and go left."
Hmm... She was onto me. The lady at the visitor's centre knew too. But how?
Admittedly, I have a childishly limited produceable vocabulary, which leaves me to search for certain words, or if I can't find it, I will talk around it. My Dutch is far from perfect, but my real problem is that my English is perfect.
Apparently 70% of the Dutch population have a working knowledge of English, and there are many English words they use as if it were nothing. For example, "Visitor's" and "Centre". They hear proper pronunciation and know something is amiss. I hope they don't presume I am American or English. I have a plan to try and balance it out, while at the same time, being patronising and slightly insulting without them knowing it.
Next time, I am going to put on my best caricature of a Dutch accent, and ask for the "Fishitorsh Shenterr". They won't suspect a thing. It is time to teach those mermaids a lesson.
Also, today I have a few photos to illustrate the similarities. This is a set of two photos. Discuss and argue amongst each other which you think is from Japan, and which is from Holland. Enjoy!
Monday, September 08, 2008
The Re-beginning
I remember the very first time I traveled back to Holland as an 11 year-old. I remember driving away from Schiphol airport and somehow being surprised that the grass in Holland was also green. Sure, I hadn't learnt about photosynthesis yet, but I was not making a scientific discovery. It was simply an observation that different countries really weren't so different as my cartoon-watching background had prepared me for.
Many people in this world are too keen to focus on the differences between countries and cultures. I too, have been guilty of this in my last two years in Japan. Japan is now behind me, and Holland is ahead of me, but I don't want to continue the banal- and often damaging or disparaging habit of simply pointing out our differences. I would rather talk about the simple universal truths. Sure the grass might be a little greener on the other side, but we all bleed red and we shouldn't eat yellow snow.
So, to start off, I want to write about the things that Japan and Holland share in common, for example, they are both extremely different to each other.
One is big, the other is small.
One is short, the other is tall. (height and nose-wise)
One has gays, whores and grass, the other has none of that, at all.
The great thing about stereotypes is that it doesn't require any original thinking. For me and you. For example, I can say that I live in Holland, less than an hour from Amsterdam. Then I can laugh, as if that was a witty joke. "Haha, it is funny because I am less from an hour away from legally getting high, legally getting married to another man and then being legally euthanised. Holland is great."
Thinking for yourself is hard, man. The only reason I came to Holland is to try get into a Masters Course at University. Leave me alone, Gosh!
But two full days after arriving, I think I am ready to venture outside. I need to get some fresh air while the weather holds. Tomorrow the forecast is looking peachy. Apparently, until tomorrow it has been "typical" Dutch weather, which is apparently similar to "typical Scottish weather" and "typical Toyama weather" and "typical NZ West Coast weather", and any other place that prides itself on crap weather.
So on those rare occasions when I do leave the house, I will be checking how green the grass is, if everybody bleeds red, and generally keep an eye out for the things that show that we are all the same. And that thing is: stupidity.
I remember the very first time I traveled back to Holland as an 11 year-old. I remember driving away from Schiphol airport and somehow being surprised that the grass in Holland was also green. Sure, I hadn't learnt about photosynthesis yet, but I was not making a scientific discovery. It was simply an observation that different countries really weren't so different as my cartoon-watching background had prepared me for.
Many people in this world are too keen to focus on the differences between countries and cultures. I too, have been guilty of this in my last two years in Japan. Japan is now behind me, and Holland is ahead of me, but I don't want to continue the banal- and often damaging or disparaging habit of simply pointing out our differences. I would rather talk about the simple universal truths. Sure the grass might be a little greener on the other side, but we all bleed red and we shouldn't eat yellow snow.
So, to start off, I want to write about the things that Japan and Holland share in common, for example, they are both extremely different to each other.
One is big, the other is small.
One is short, the other is tall. (height and nose-wise)
One has gays, whores and grass, the other has none of that, at all.
The great thing about stereotypes is that it doesn't require any original thinking. For me and you. For example, I can say that I live in Holland, less than an hour from Amsterdam. Then I can laugh, as if that was a witty joke. "Haha, it is funny because I am less from an hour away from legally getting high, legally getting married to another man and then being legally euthanised. Holland is great."
Thinking for yourself is hard, man. The only reason I came to Holland is to try get into a Masters Course at University. Leave me alone, Gosh!
But two full days after arriving, I think I am ready to venture outside. I need to get some fresh air while the weather holds. Tomorrow the forecast is looking peachy. Apparently, until tomorrow it has been "typical" Dutch weather, which is apparently similar to "typical Scottish weather" and "typical Toyama weather" and "typical NZ West Coast weather", and any other place that prides itself on crap weather.
So on those rare occasions when I do leave the house, I will be checking how green the grass is, if everybody bleeds red, and generally keep an eye out for the things that show that we are all the same. And that thing is: stupidity.
Monday, September 01, 2008
WWRD?
I never imagined that the month and a half after I stop going to school would be a time where I get schooled myself. Seriously, I never thought that compared to teaching English in Japan, being homeless and jobless could be so hard. I have been so busy these last weeks growing my beard. After all, it is the homeless/jobless uniform.
When I was working, the weekends always seemed so far away. I would be constantly dreaming about friday 5pm, lovingly termed "beer O'clock". Now, every clock is beer O'clock, and weekends are always right there.
So, for my last technical weekend in Japan, I went to the big city, and you can't get much bigger than Tokyo. I just felt that Osaka/Kansai/Kobe just weren't big enough...
I had to say some goodbyes and have some good local food while I have the chance. So I had Russian and Mexican food. I figure if I want to remember what Japanese food tastes like, I will just not cook it and dip it in soy sauce.
The most memorable experience from thisToyko trip was a modern art event. It was the most memorable because it was completely bat-shit crazy, and/or it was one of the more sober moments of the weekend. The highlight was watching a guy paint random lines with black ink while a band played noise. The band consisted of a drummer, a double bass player, a tromboner and a saxaphoney. For at least 30 minutes, they made every possible noise that could come from their intruments, completely independant from each other.
Next, there was a live collage shown on a projector. It was mainly the artist cutting up and scribbling on photos of buddhas. And the foreground music was an electric guitarer, who everybody could agree was very very loud. It was going along well, until the guitarer apparently fell ill with "musicians block", and got stuck on E minor. Without exaggeration, we were able to enjoy this one chord for more than 15 minutes. At the 10 minute-mark, the previous band also joined in to add some much-needed variety.
Obviously, I need to be more cultured and/or more drunk to fully appreciate this sort of thing. So the next day, I went to see an exhibition of Vermeer. This way, I can get the Dutch culture crossed off my list even before I arrive in Holland. Now that is efficiency.
However, I felt that it was my duty to experience some proper Japanese culture before I left. So, last week I decided to get it all out of the way and see ALL of Japan's culture in one day. It was easy enough. I just went to Kyoto and found the temples, took the obligatory photos and suddenly I was cultured. I was so efficient, that I was finished by 4pm, and eating Korean food at 4:30.
The point is, apart from becoming more cultured, and the bruises and scars from drinking, I have very little to show for the whole month of August, and even less from the entire 25 months in Japanland. I have to show for it is a goatee, a confidence to wear more hats, an ex-girlfriend, a taste for Korean food, a couple of songs about Japan/my schlong, and enough cynacism to reclaim Osaka bay.
Okay, so I have regrets. In fact, I have so many of them, that they form their own colonies in unsuspecting victim's chests, waiting for a dramatic moment to erupt. I could've studied harder, been more proactive at school, gone out more with friends, drink less, sleep more, be less cynical, less lazy, less stingy with money, better at saving money, taken more photos, witten more, not waste so much time with writing... As that Baz Lurhmann once said in that dumbsunscreen song, "Your choices are half-chance". I say, regret is whole-chance. It is nothing more than a recognition that things happened in a certain way.
However, from the depths of my time here, I have one piece of advice, one perfect sentence from a 15 year-old student of mine, that I want to share. If everybody followed this advice, I can guarantee this world would be a better place to live. She wrote to me:
ルーベンらしくて過ごしてください (ruuben rashikute sugoshite kudasai)
In English, the most accurate translation would be:
"Please spend (your time/life) Ruben-like."
In other words, just ask yourself, "What Would Ruben Do?"
It is a failproof system. These last 25 months are exactly what Ruben would have done. And the next 25 are exactly what he will do, whatever that may be. At the moment, that means going back to Dutchland and going back to school to study art history.
Anyway, so while I keep doing what Ruben would do, I will keep writing what Ruben has done. For the next while, that will be from Holland. I hope you didn't learn too much about Japan or me from Ruben in Japanland. Next time I will be Back in Dutchland. Where eternal Beer O'clock becomes "Coffee O'clock" and I continue the reversing the progress of life: Going back to the country my parents fled, and going back to school- as a student. I amobviously not finished being schooled.
I never imagined that the month and a half after I stop going to school would be a time where I get schooled myself. Seriously, I never thought that compared to teaching English in Japan, being homeless and jobless could be so hard. I have been so busy these last weeks growing my beard. After all, it is the homeless/jobless uniform.
When I was working, the weekends always seemed so far away. I would be constantly dreaming about friday 5pm, lovingly termed "beer O'clock". Now, every clock is beer O'clock, and weekends are always right there.
So, for my last technical weekend in Japan, I went to the big city, and you can't get much bigger than Tokyo. I just felt that Osaka/Kansai/Kobe just weren't big enough...
I had to say some goodbyes and have some good local food while I have the chance. So I had Russian and Mexican food. I figure if I want to remember what Japanese food tastes like, I will just not cook it and dip it in soy sauce.
The most memorable experience from thisToyko trip was a modern art event. It was the most memorable because it was completely bat-shit crazy, and/or it was one of the more sober moments of the weekend. The highlight was watching a guy paint random lines with black ink while a band played noise. The band consisted of a drummer, a double bass player, a tromboner and a saxaphoney. For at least 30 minutes, they made every possible noise that could come from their intruments, completely independant from each other.
Next, there was a live collage shown on a projector. It was mainly the artist cutting up and scribbling on photos of buddhas. And the foreground music was an electric guitarer, who everybody could agree was very very loud. It was going along well, until the guitarer apparently fell ill with "musicians block", and got stuck on E minor. Without exaggeration, we were able to enjoy this one chord for more than 15 minutes. At the 10 minute-mark, the previous band also joined in to add some much-needed variety.
Obviously, I need to be more cultured and/or more drunk to fully appreciate this sort of thing. So the next day, I went to see an exhibition of Vermeer. This way, I can get the Dutch culture crossed off my list even before I arrive in Holland. Now that is efficiency.
However, I felt that it was my duty to experience some proper Japanese culture before I left. So, last week I decided to get it all out of the way and see ALL of Japan's culture in one day. It was easy enough. I just went to Kyoto and found the temples, took the obligatory photos and suddenly I was cultured. I was so efficient, that I was finished by 4pm, and eating Korean food at 4:30.
The point is, apart from becoming more cultured, and the bruises and scars from drinking, I have very little to show for the whole month of August, and even less from the entire 25 months in Japanland. I have to show for it is a goatee, a confidence to wear more hats, an ex-girlfriend, a taste for Korean food, a couple of songs about Japan/my schlong, and enough cynacism to reclaim Osaka bay.
Okay, so I have regrets. In fact, I have so many of them, that they form their own colonies in unsuspecting victim's chests, waiting for a dramatic moment to erupt. I could've studied harder, been more proactive at school, gone out more with friends, drink less, sleep more, be less cynical, less lazy, less stingy with money, better at saving money, taken more photos, witten more, not waste so much time with writing... As that Baz Lurhmann once said in that dumbsunscreen song, "Your choices are half-chance". I say, regret is whole-chance. It is nothing more than a recognition that things happened in a certain way.
However, from the depths of my time here, I have one piece of advice, one perfect sentence from a 15 year-old student of mine, that I want to share. If everybody followed this advice, I can guarantee this world would be a better place to live. She wrote to me:
ルーベンらしくて過ごしてください (ruuben rashikute sugoshite kudasai)
In English, the most accurate translation would be:
"Please spend (your time/life) Ruben-like."
In other words, just ask yourself, "What Would Ruben Do?"
It is a failproof system. These last 25 months are exactly what Ruben would have done. And the next 25 are exactly what he will do, whatever that may be. At the moment, that means going back to Dutchland and going back to school to study art history.
Anyway, so while I keep doing what Ruben would do, I will keep writing what Ruben has done. For the next while, that will be from Holland. I hope you didn't learn too much about Japan or me from Ruben in Japanland. Next time I will be Back in Dutchland. Where eternal Beer O'clock becomes "Coffee O'clock" and I continue the reversing the progress of life: Going back to the country my parents fled, and going back to school- as a student. I amobviously not finished being schooled.
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