Making time:

We are all given 24 hours to each day.

I respectfully disagree with this saying. I know, I know, I complain a lot about being bored at school. It's true. Sometimes, I'm so bored I start bleeding simply from boredom. But once the bell rings at 4:15, and I flee school, I never have enough time to anything. It is a huge contradiction that I haven't been able to solve.

I am a man of many talents, interests and hobbies. I mean, none of them are really talented or interesting, or hobbits, but I need a certain amount of time to devote to each of them. Since I first arrived in Japan, I've been struggling to keep up, especially with my co-curricular weekend and alcohol commitments. It hasn't helped how I have picked up some new hobbies, such as balcony gardening and pet-keeping, playing darts, ukulele, and the biggest mistake of all: buying a computer. Soon, I will also start weekly Japanese lessons with a tutor- who will give me homework.

Something had to give, but there are no expendable hobbits. I couldn't possibly give my guitar or computer away, stop playing basketball twice a week, eat out every night, or neglect cleaning my apartment. And I couldn't forget the occasional weblog entry. I spent hours and hours, for weeks on end, trying to think of a way to create more time in the day. It looked hopeless.

Then, one day I came home after school. I was famished because the school lunch was sparse; it contained a bunch of dead river fishes on a plate, and some smaller ones swimming upside down in the soup. I thought long and hard about this too. I have always been raised like a war-child, eating your meal as if you don't know if there will be a next. Sure, I went through a "hiding the broccoli in the pot plant" phase, but that didn't last. So, in Japan, I always did my best to finish the crap that is sometimes served at school lunches. One week- there must have a mistake in the ordering of the ingredients, and someone added a few zeros to the amount of 'small gruesome river fish' quota- we had fish with everything. There were tiny dead fish of 80% eye-ball mixed into the rice. There were toothy fish of 70% bone, and 20% dry burnt skin sitting on a plate. Even the usually safe miso soup contained more fishes in the murky depths of the bowl.

I am not a vegetarian (anymore), but I have developed very strong feelings about eating whole animals. These river fishes are not filleted. They are simply caught, and cooked. Most people eat the heads too. That's their choice. My feeling is though, I don't particularly want to be eating everything: the eyeballs, the teeth, the eyeball fluid, the spinal fluid, the genitalia, and so on. More than that, the last meal that the small river fish ate- probably water insects- are still somewhere in its digestive system. Worst of all, you are eating what the fish was about to poop out, before life was swiftly taken from it. If you eat the whole fish, you are a shit-eater.

So, I made a decision to eat like a peacetime civilian, and started hiding the fishes in the pot plants. Some days, I can go to the convenience store for a burger instead, but other days, I am left feeling quite hungry when I came home.

On that fateful day, I came home familiarly hungry. For some reason, I decided to just start cooking. I was chopping garlic at 4:28, mixing the batter at 4:30, chopping cabbage at 4:31. By 4:45, I had made myself a pretty decent okonmiyaki. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okonomiyaki). I ate, watched some T.V., did dishes, took a dump and brushed my teeth... all before 5:30!

I now had 7plus hours to do stuff! This is my solution. That night I did some stuff, and then I went out to dinner again at 9pm, and went drinking. Maybe that wasn't the most constructive way to spend my newly-discovered time, but the principle is sound.

Miss Dough.

My new favourite place. It's Mr. Donuts (contracted to "Misdo" in Japanese), where they have all-you-can-drink coffee, average doughnuts and terrible music. Sure the atmosphere is only slightly better than McDonalds, but it is a great place to sit, write and email people (by phone). Closing time is at 8pm, so it is ideal for my new routine to go for dessert and coffee. Yesterday, I stayed until closing time. Yes, I am hardcore. The last 3 days I have gone there, for a total of 7 hours. I am starting to wonder if there is "anything" in the doughnuts, but for the while, things are working out well.

I mean, if I can now afford 7 hours at a café, and still have time to write this piece of crap today, you know everything will be okay. Also, since all the kids are doing it these days, I've been trying to put some photos online. I know how most people prefer to just look at the pictures, so some of my newly-made free time will go towards this too. http://s189.photobucket.com/albums/z70/ruvaman/

Variety

Sometimes one moment can define a lifetime. This was such an epic moment. The moment I said "schlong" in front of hundreds of people.

It all began about five years ago. One night, a little boy was watching the television much past his bedtime. A young, easily influenced boy watching late-night television. The T.V. show was 'The Late Show with David Letterman', and the little boy was none other than myself. A segment on the show came on, (the intro by none other than Paul Shaffer and the CBS Orchestra), "Stupid Human... TRIIIIIICKSSSS AH!". I edged closer to the screen, as a geeky guy was interviewed by Letterman. He was a Canadian nuclear physicist student, and his stupid human trick was to juggle 2 balls while climbing through a tennis racquet.

Being someone who likes doing anything stupid, I watched in awe. I knew then that I wanted to be that geek.

The timing was perfect, as it was less than a few months before my school (and the Girls College, combined) talent show. Our schools were rather prestigious places, and these talent shows included some future professional musicians, dancers, singers and composers. It also included me.

I had never done anything like this before. I mean, had cut the strings out of my tennis racquet and practiced the stupid human trick, but I was not a performer. In front of a crowd of about one-thousand, and sandwiched between truly talented people, I pulled off the feat. It turns out that I was the most talked about the day after, and the most remembered act. I met people 4 years later while at University who remembered me for the act .

It was an epic moment, but I think, I have finally topped it.

Every year, the Toyama JET's put on a big Charity Show. This year it was a production of Peter Pan. I originally joined in, but soon realised that this required actual work, and time commitment. Luckily, the charity show included a "Variety Show". I had just the act to add some variety. I didn't even need to pretend that I had talent. It was all laid out before me.
The director, upon hearing I had an act involving a tennis racquet, requested I also play the ukulele. (I played a terrible version of "no Woman no cry" at the audition for Peter Pan) However, I own possibly the cheapest playable ukulele alive, which I have seen in toy stores, and my playing ability doesn't even do the toy justice. I was not going to do a serious song, so I turned my hand at song writing. This is what I came up with:

Deinternationalisation.

The idea came to me over the last 10 months of being stereotyped. I've said it many times, but I am offensively foreign. To prove my point, here is a page from my Junior High School Textbook, one of the main textbooks in the Japanese curriculum.

His name is Mr. Brown, an ALT. This is me! If someone were to draw me as a Japanese cartoon, this is what I'd look like. Seriously. I should really ask for royalties from the publisher. One of the reasons for the JET program existing, is to dispel the myth of the forigner that IS me, and show the diversity of the outside world and its inhabitants. So, my song is about how not all foreigners are tall blond blue eyed freaks who can't eat fish or natto and only eat bread. Except, that is me.

I won't give it away and write the lyrics down, but once the video is completed of the show, I will try and show it. It might even become my first single.

However, I said the word, "schlong" infront of hundreds of people. Many of whom couldn't understand why the rest of the crowd were laughing. It was so perfect. An epic moment that will not be soon forgotten in these parts.

For now, here is a video a friend took of me during the juggling part of the show. Including where I nearly dropped the ball. Watch out for it...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5VzjdAjwzc

I have a saying that goes: "An hour's sleep is an hour wasted." If that is anything to live by, this weekend was pure magic.

It began after school on a friday. I was wrecked from the week's teaching (or in my case, not teaching much... but I was still exhausted), and I came home as soon as I could to take a nap. I very rarely nap. I wasn't destined to take one this day either. Soon after I had taken my pants off and went to bed, my doorbell sounded. It was my neighbour, who we shall call, say, "Timbo". He loudly announced it was "beer o'clock". (I technically had no beer, but "wine o'clock" doesn't have the same ring to it.)

My original plan was to go to basketball practice, and get a few drinks at a local bar before sinking into the best sleep imaginable. Perhaps, due to my sleep induced vulnerability to suggestion, "Timbo" managed to convince me to instead travel to Takaoka, the closest decent town, to go to some bars and check out a Brazillian club where girls can enter for free if they wear short skirts.

Soon, it was "gin & tonic from a litre bottle o'clock", as we caught a last train to Takaoka. This trip was the worst idea ever. The first bar was full of people, but there was conveniently a free table next to the other token group of foreigners. This phenomenom is referred to as "being put in the Gaijin Corner". It happens Japan-wide. You will always be put next to the other foreigners, despite our mutual dislike for each other.

The next stop was the Brazillian club, which was closed. Plan B was a different club, but this was completely dead. Infact, the whole city was dead. If we had of wanted to go out in a dead city, we could've stayed in Tonami. We did meet 2 guys who offered to buy us a beer, presumably because we were interesting. I can milk my foreigness for beer. Only, once we sat down, they patted their pockets and said they hadn't enough money. Then, one guy started showing signs of unstableness, and he kept touching our thighs. "Timbo" and I knew what we had to do: run. We threw our share of money at them and exited the bar sprinting away like there were police dogs chasing us. We took another walk to confirm that Takaoka city was officially closed, and hailed an expensive taxi back home.

Finally, after 3am, I drowned in my well deserved sleep.


At 7am I was rudely awakened by the alarm of "Timbo"'s cellphone which he left behind in my apartment. At 10:13, I was permanently awoken by a peppy message "lets go to the beach". So, 5 of us drove out to the deserted beaches of Toyama bay. It is not summer yet, but this May weather feels like a hot New Zealand summer to me. It was a brilliant day, despite the state of the beach. The Japanese appear to have no concept of "keeping a beach clean". I swear, 7 metres away from our spot, was a toilet brush. A toilet brush! I didn't sleep at the beach, but this was almost as relaxing. I also attained a satisfying sunburn. Yes, in my eyes, summer is here already. The water was also filled with jellyfish. I didn't mind. It's summer. We had a good swim together.

After dinner, I went to some friends' house to help them light a bonfire and get told off by their neighbours.

After that pointless ordeal, I was sober driver to go to a reggae club night in another neighbouring city. Even sober, it was a good night out, but this may be slightly skewed because of contrasting this with the previous night. I wanted to get home around 2am, the reason for this being: I had a basketball tournament to star in. I ended up being 4am.
My alarm was set for 6:30, on purpose.

This basketball tournament was part of the Toyama prefecture City Government Sports Day. Various sports were played, and as the city ALT, I was asked to play for them. The guys from City Hall are gold, so I agreed. Apart from one other young guy, all other teammates were over 30 years old, unfit smokers, and played about once per year. This all equated to me getting only one 5 minute substitution over the three games. Since the level of basketball was lower than I usually play, this wasn't so much of a problem, and it was more fun to get my teammates involved. I mean, they only play once a year. I did though, accidentally score 27 points in the 2nd game.

The final, (yes, we made it to the final) was a tough game. Everybody was completely nailed by this time, and the opponent's best player and I cancelled each other out. We ended up with a halftime score of just 15-15. This may have been the ugliest half of basketball ever witnessed. But we pulled away in the 2nd half, en leu (*french) to becoming the Toyama Champions...of the 6 city councils that entered teams...Well, at least it's something.
Sorry for the long detailed explanation of the whole weekend, but I was simply re-creating the extreme feeling of needing sleep.

Of course, it wasn't over yet. We had to celebrate becoming the Toyama Champions (of the 6 city councils that entered basketball teams). This involved a lot of beer, and sake, and I also vaguely remember drinking shochu. Usually the term "free drinks" in Japan is a euphamism, but I wasn't allowed to pay. It's a great group of guys, and I was happy to hear that since we came in the top 2, we will enter our team into a tri-prefectural tournament in August.
Remember, this was a Sunday night, and I possibly don't remember coming home, supposedly at midnight. Sleep had finally caught up to me, but with 4 periods of teaching 6 and 7 year olds in the morning, I couldn't catch up with sleep.

I think I finally proved my theory wrong.

Filling the void, again.

When things in life seem futile, many turn to alcohol. Not I. I fill the voids in my life with things. Glorious, materialistic things. A few months back, in the midst of winter, I set about building a bar in my apartment. Then I turned to alcohol... Things seemes to be going well at the beginning of a glorious summer. . I really enjoyed coming home, but once there... something, something didn't feel quite right. I needed to find the purchasable object that would make it all okay again.

Phase A
This idea came to me when I was at the Tulip Festival. Tonami is billed as "the flower city", so I thought to myself: "Since I am in the Flower City, why don't I buy myself a flower?"... okay, that came out wrong... But I did have a plan. The very next week (I was kindof busy that week...) I went and treated myself to 25 kilograms of dirt. I love retail therapy! Now, like most apartments on the 3rd floor, I don't have a garden. I do have a balcony, and that is where I set up a flowerbed, and a series of pots. Over the last two weeks, I have been taking great care of them, and I am now the proud, single dad of baby lupins, sunflowers and cosmos. As a plan to impress girls, this is deeply flawed. But it is good feel responsible for something other than myself.

Phase 2
Going by the philosophy of "do in Tonami as the Tonamians do" by growing flowers, I am also "doing as the Japanese do"- by growing rice. I will not get into the finer details of how I came into posession of the rice plants, for it is something I am not proud of. I will say, however, that "Operation Rice-Get" occured past midnight. I've said too much already... So, alongside my flowerbed, I have a small rice field, complete with the mud and dirty, insect-filled water. unfortunately, "Operation Tadpole Drop" was unsuccessful. I wonder if this year will be a good harvest...
I feel the flowers and rice have made me feel closer to the heart of the Japanese and Tonameese mentality.

Phase 3
Undeterred by the failure of "Operation Tadpole Drop", I decided to go up one level. Pets! On the scale of difficulty of keeping alive, interestingness and originality, Goldfish are near the bottom of the pet scale. They sit somewhere between worms and sea monkeys. Still, for someone who grew up with a cat, dogs, goats, turtles, goldfish, tropical fish, birds, guinea pigs, rabbits, eels, lizards and once had a monkey stay over for a weekend, having a pet of any sort is a must. Most goldfish, in my correct opinion, look like failed genetic experiments. This is because they usually are. Comets though, while plain, are acceptable pets, and I chose two groovy clownfish coloured ones. They are named Kami, and Kaze.

So, while I did fill thevoid in my life with materialism, buying (and stealing) living things to take care of makes it slightly less sad. I am investing in life. And if that fails, at least I can take comfort in the knowledge I have a fully stocked bar in my apartment.