Potent Portables

A shameless paraphrasing of one of the funnier SNL skits in recent years. I am still in JET Purgatory, awaiting news of placement, but rest assured when I do find out where I will be going, I will blog that event even as I am whisked away to Paradise.

I promised last post that I would say more about my new laptop, and as the canny reader will no doubt clue in from the title, my Dell Inspiron 6400 has arrived. In fact, this post is being written on my new baby.

The good stuff: Intel Centrino Core Duo-Processor running at 1.83 ghz, 1 GB DDR RAM clocking in at 533 mhz, 256 MB ATI Radeon Mobility X1400 Video card, Sound Blaster Audigy MB sound card, 15.1" Widescreen display, 8x DVD Burner.

The bad stuff: only the fact that this puppy beats my desktop PC in everything but loudness (my new baby doesn't even purr like a kitten it's so damned quiet...). Also, given that's it's virtually a virgin XP install, it isn't falling apart at the seams like my desktop.

Ok, so it's fair to say that I'm in honeymoon bliss with my laptop. Considering the kind of crap that installs itself into computers these day, both legitimate and viral, only time will tell if I will need to make use of Dell's "Recovery" CD.

I have already installed FFXI on my new laptop, and will shortly be installing, probably, Ritual's latest offering Sin: Emergence. No doubt it will run far smoother on this. You might have guessed that this laptop, on top of all that a laptop represents to JETs in terms of classroom productivity, is meant to be my gaming rig while I am in Japan. The decision to build a PC in Japan has been floating around in my mind for some time, but it seems to me that there is a dearth of PC gaming in Japan for those interested in games that are not hentai or daughter/sister/princess/slave simulator. Building a PC in Japan may not be worth it unless I stay longer than a year. So for now, trusty 6400, the spotlight is on you!

What does my new laptop look like? Google "Dell Inspiron 6400" you lazy schmuck!

Hurry up and wait.

If you read enough military fiction, history, or biographical accounts, you will inevitably come across the term "hurry up and wait," most commonly uttered by the foot-slogging infantryman. Military operations require much planning and logistical support, but as the famous axiom relates, no plan survives contact with the enemy. The enemy in this case of course is the unexpected, and so best laid military plans often starts to unravel as delays pop up, due to bad weather, mechanical failure, or other acts of god. These delays trickle down to the lowly pre-mission infantryman, who has scrambled to get his kit sorted and ready, only to be told to wait while other elements of the operation play catch-up.

Hurry up and wait.

I am, of course not a soldier, but it is still a sentiment I can appreciate. After the flurry of preparation, mainly getting my certificate sorted and delivered, I'm now marking time in a sort of JET limbo. Allow me to clarify.

By now, virtually all of the Ottawa short-list, and most of the Toronto short-list JETs have gotten their placements (EDIT: This is pure speculation on my part, based solely on the replies to the "Placement" thread on the Toronto JETAA forums. I don't really know, at this point, what percentage of Canadian JETs have gotten placement offers at this time). The upgraded short-listers (that is, upgraded from the alternate list) have, as far as I can tell, not recieved word of placement. This makes sense of course. Those who were from the start on the short-list had almost a month to accept and deliver their paperwork to their JET Co-ordinator. On the other hand, the alternate-listers had merely to formally accept their alternate list status, with their paperwork required only in the case that they got upgraded to short-list.

Paperwork is sent to CLAIR, the Japanese agency responsible for the placements of JETs across Japan. The short-listers presumably had their paperwork sent at the beginning of the month, some time in the first week of May. The upgradees on the other hand probably have their paperwork sent overseas as it comes in to the JET Co-ordinator's office. So if the original short-listers are even now being informed of their placements, no doubt my placement will come perhaps a week later.

This is where the anxiety kicks in. Being on the JET short-list means that I will be going to Japan, barring any bizzarre discrepancies between my medical certificate and my application form. As it stands, going to Japan is as guaranteed as it's going to be barring acts of god, dog, or whatever else the cosmos throws into the mix. But there is still that nagging doubt in the recesses of my psyche, of not going, of somehow being rejected at the very last of selection stages.

Hurry up and wait indeed.

Of course my worrying has not stopped me from buying a new laptop. More on that in a later post though...

Japan GO!

I pick up this blog, well over a year after the last entry.

I'll say what a difference a day makes, and for a long while, that day will be May 5th, 2006.

My day began at 5:30AM, a legacy of 7-4 deal sign shifts at Canadian Tire. As I rolled out of bed and stumbled into my desk chair, I automatically turned the TV and PC on, by finger and toe, and rested my eyes while my PC came on. My fingers automatically navigating to the Email hotbutton on my keyboard, I watched sleepy-eyed as the spam rolled in and Outlook Express signalled completion with a chime. Nestled amongst the spam was an email from the JET Programme coordinator in Toronto, with the innocuous subject line of "JET Programme Update!" Another email telling me about upcoming meetings, I figured. When I opened the email, I read the following:

Dear Michael

I am writing to let you know that I would like to offer you a position on the final short list of JET Programme participants. Please write or call me back ASAP to let me know if you would like to accept, and/or if you have any initial questions. My direct line is 416-XXX-XXXX.

Congratulations!

I stared dumbly at this email for some 30 seconds before what was written registered in my sleep addled brain. With the sudden intensity of a summer storm, my mind came into full alertness. The blood pounded in my ears and my breath quickened as I read and reread every word, still not believing that I had not made some sort of misinterpretation.

I got up, feeling weak-kneed and more than a little shocked. I called down to my father, awake as ever at 5:34AM, and calmly told him what happened. My mother, also just stirring awake, heard as well. We returned to my computer and reread the email. Beyond all expectation, I had made it to the JET Programme Short List.

I should explain that I had received, exactly 1 month previous (April 5th), I had recieved a letter informing me I had made it to the ALTERNATE JET ALT short-list. In other words, the stand-by list. 24 hours had passed before I could digest that news, and my the end, I had come to the conclusion that I would not be going to Japan through the JET Programme. I was crushed, and over the next month or so, a sort of defiant anger slowly festered in me as I railed against the ridiculousness of a system that made you wait 8-9 months, from sending out your application form to getting your final reply. Nuts to JET, I thought, and after a 2 week funk, I got on with my life.

So you'll understand that when I read that email, which moved me from stand-by to short list, that bit of news didn't sink in for a few hours. When it did, I had a stupid grin on my face the rest of the day. My closest friends recieved a confusing email just before I left for work, so now I'll take a moment to clarify what should in the next little while happen.

I will recieve shortly more information regarding the ALT (Assistant Language Teacher) position, as well as the forms necessary to get the ball rolling on getting a work visa for Japan. Before my information is sent to CLAIR, the Japanese agency that handles the placements in Japan for the JET Programme, I need to complete my medical health certificate and get it to the Japanese Consulate. I had my form initially filled out on Friday, that day of days, got my chest x-ray today, and tomorrow, I go back to my clinic to get the form completed. Then its next-day delivery by mail to the Consulate. Once I get my placement offer, its a mad rush to get my affairs in order before I leave on August 5th.

Yes. August 5th. 12 weeks away.

I should add that at this point, placement is not guaranteed. Much of this is dependent on my medical certificate, which cannot be significantly be different than my medical self-assessment I submitted with my application form. Also, there is of course still a chance that I will not, for some reason or another, be given a placement offer by CLAIR. However, unlike the news I received in early April, I choose this time to revel in the knowledge that in all likelyhood, I will be in Japan this summer.

I can't wait...

Home at last

All good things must come to an end, they say. I"m back in good ol' T.O., very relieved to have the return leg of the trip over with. Door to door was about 24 hours, and after some preliminary web surfing and unpacking, I was fast asleep in bed by 1am.

So, final thoughts? My time in Japan seemed longer that it was. 12 days (10 really) gave me a healthy dose of Japan, at least the Fukuoka parts. My mom comments that this was probably just about right. Not long enough to be a bother, but long enough to want to stay a tad bit longer.

Overall, my experience was of course positive. I went almost 2 solid weeks speaking only Japanese, so my confidence with it, rather than any grammatical or vocabulary improvement, is much higher. I definitely want to live at least a few years there, and at this time, I think most of my energies will be directed in that manner. I think for now, editor's courses are on hold while I consider what my best strategy will be in order to realize my goals. Not really an epiphany or a wake up call, but more of a kick in the ass to get me out of my rut.

My mother's experiences were a little different. I'll go out on a limb and say she enjoyed herself, but she was far more anxious than I to get home. Perhaps because she was born and raised in Japan, perhaps because she feels that her years in Canada makes her unable to live in Japan anymore, but she felt more keenly than I the imposition upon our relatives as they rearranged their lives for 2 weeks.

She also brought up another point. My experiences in Japan, while in some ways unique, in some ways mundane, were entirely the experiences of an outsider, visitor, and guest. In an odd way, I was connected and disconnected from the world that surrounded me, able to move through it and interact with it, but in a sense never fully integrate with it. Making money for my daily bread was never a consideration; only the spending bonanza that comes with vacationing. I was opened to some of the harsher realities of my family ties, but shielded from the society as a whole.

At the risk of sounding philosophical or introspective, I wonder how this clashes with my own preconceptions of my heritage, or my place in a global Japanese community. I was acutely aware, even during my short time there, that I was indeed very much a foreigner. I can only wonder at what the Japanese store employees thought of this odd chimera of Japanese speaker and foreign mannerism. When some cashier fired at me a blur of Japanese point-cardism, I was more often than not left speechless, struggling to understand what I was being told. I must have looked like a moron when I turned helplessly to a relative, who in turn answered for me.

Thus I cannot deny a feeling that my proficiency in Japanese is both a great hinderance as well as an asset. A hinderance because my fluency and lack of obvious accent makes people expect that I am 100% able to operate in that society. I cannot turn to the easy crutch of a foreigner's face or skin-tone, or even accent as a way of indicating that I am not fluent.

The conflict comes then from my own positivist attitude and ability to adapt to my own circumstances. Until I opened my mouth, or failed to react to a question posed, I was for all intents and purposes a normal, if not slightly eccentric, Japanese man. I never felt out of sorts or out of place in Japan. In fact, I felt pretty damn comfortable.

While it may seem at odds with my earlier comments of recognizing my gaijin status in Japan, it isn't. Those of you who know me well might ponder over my seemingly care not to make waves with those around me, my attempts to ensure that people are seated around a table in a manner that ensure no one feels uncomfortable with their neighbours, or any other number of seeming trivialities that I engage in. These mannerisms are not because I am an overly sensitive man, but are rather a product of my being brought up with at least some Japanese values. While I realized that I was a foreigner, I felt comfortable knowing that such mannerisms were normal in Japan. While this is difficult for me to admit, for the first time in my life I was conscious of being part of a culture, rather than just living in one. What, exactly, this means for me in Canada I cannot say, for these are questions I have never really openly contemplated.

Another factor was made evident from what was certainly an off the cuff comment from on my relatives (I don't remember who). They remarked that, were I to come to Japan with obviously foreign friends, and display my ability to converse fluently in both Japanese and English, a listener might be envious of, and a little hostile to, me, thinking "Just who the hell does this guy think he is, showing us all up?" It is not a reaction I can explain on any intellectual level, but one I can understand at a subconsious level.

The conflict, therefore, comes to me in this form: will I be able to succeed in Japan as a foreigner without a foreigner's crutches to fall back onto? My fluency at both the language and the cultural mannerisms are a fragile facade covering a complex, multi-cultural, and ultimately Canadian, personality, yet that person could only be recognized and understood by someone who learned about my situation. My pseudo-Japanese appearance and speech will lead those I interact with to assume that I am in fact Japanese, and when my Canadian-ness asserts itself, they can reach only one of two conclusions. Either I am a grade-A moron, because even the simplest concepts like point-cards or payment plans elude me, or I am a better person than they are because I am more able, because of my fluency in English. Both of these conclusions arise from the fact that there are no obvious signs of gaijin-ness about me. They cannot, I think, re-evaluate their strategy from Japanese-interaction to gaijin-interaction mid-stride without themselves feeling foolish.

Regardless of what comes for me in the future, I can only hope that my positivism will carry me through it. Perhaps, much like at home, I can rely on the friends I make to help me weather the stormy channels of Japanese society. My situation is not unique in itself, as I know of many others who have made the same trek as I am contemplating, but it is unique to me.

Of course, all of this is moot until I graduate :P

This last post was a heavy one, but one I feel is necessary to complete my own personal journey in Fukuoka Japan. I hope that you have enjoyed reading it, for I truly enjoyed writing it. For the time being, this blog is at an end.

At the end of the day, I feels damn good to sleep in a bed again...

Time Travel

My last post from the Land of the Rising Sun. I'll leave off my closing thoughts until I'm back on Terra Canadiana.

A few points of interest, particularly regarding my cousin's daughters' names. First, no, Ulala is not named after the Space Channel 5 character, but a Japanese word, meaning warmth. Same, actually, with Honoka. Both names are meant to evoke feelings of spring-time warmth and sunshine. Beautiful names for beautiful kids. As an aside, Ulala, or can also be spelled Urara, Ulara, Urala.

A final day of hectic shopping left me tired mentally and physically. There was some shopping for other people (cough)Fran(cough). Mostly though, it was following my mom and her cousin through crowded shops looking for gifts for home.

After an early lunch with my mom's aunt and uncle, I had a chance encounter with a Buddhist Priest-in-training. He was standing there, chanting, and after a small donation, he blessed me. Actually, it was quite a to-do, as he stood behind me warding off evil spirits. My mom took this to be a very good omen.


While the shopping was long and by now very routine, I was fortunate enough to stumble across a small shop, called Unda Ground. It's one of those store which carries all those trendy fashion items that seem famous for those with an eye on the Asian beat. Sadly, with a price tag to boot. I did end up buying a wallet there.

On the way to meeting up with the mom, I stumbled across a display of Shinto ritual. Its a ritual performed in thanks to the Japanese pantheon. I do not know what is going on.



After most of our shopping, we ended up at a stylish cafe. Cheesecake and espresso, and on the way out, an store with an Engrish name:


We returned home after some 6 hours of walking the streets, exhausted and wondering how we were going to bring all these gifts home. Luckily enough, my cousin Miwa is a pro at packing.

Dinner was a rowdy affair at home, as the whole family showed up for a teppan-yaki dinner.


Here are some pics of the family.

From left to right: my cousin Miwa, my aunt Toshiko, my mother, Ulala, my cousin's wife Hiroe, Honoka, my cousin Makoto, and my uncle Kenji.

Pictured here is my grandma, one of the progenitors of my family tree.

And now, finally, we get to the point of this entry's title. I leave for Kansai International from Fukuoka at 2:15 pm on Friday, February 18th. After I arrive in Kansai and make the arduous trip to Vancouver, we leave Vancouver International at 2:15 , pm on Friday, February 18th. Thanks to astrophysics and timezones, I get to fly from Fukuoka to Toronto in 7 hours and 18 minutes.

It's going to be a long 7 hours...

The End Time Is Near...

Wow. I can't believe my Odyssey is almost over. While there's no doubt some influence from from the leisure of vacationing without worry at work here, I am only half looking forward to coming home. Home heralds a very busy school-work schedule, as I go into overdrive trying to finish a presentation and a paper. Well, reality is a harsh mistress. It will be very nice to sleep in a proper bed though.

Today was spent for the most part at You-me City, a sort of super-grocery store. You may have noticed that Japanese people have a penchant for calling shopping malls "cities". The only explanation I can offer is that is sounds trendy and self-contained, invoking a feeling that everything you need is right there. I realize now that I have no pictures of the grocery store itself, but there's a reasoning behind this. First, no chance for a location shot as we were in a car. Second, the place is just too damn big. Grocery store itself is a misnomer, as there are restaurants, and all manner of departments, selling clothing, stationary, housewares, toys, and even electronics. Conceptually, it's much more like a department store as we in Toronto might understand it. Walmart, perhaps, might be the closest thing to it.

What pics I do have are from the gaming centre, or arcade. Not the grungy-ass Yonge Street types, but the cleaner Scarlem ones, that cater to HKs and CBCs. I am, to a large degree, too old to be playing at an arcade...BUT:

This game is too much fun. No real need to explain why I find it so. Instead, some more pics.




And even a peanut gallery:


Just as fun, but far more interesting, was this game:


The point of the game is to hit the taiko drums in beat with the music, which ranges from simple folk/children's tunes, to pop chart toppers. A back ground in music is an asset, as it makes following 4/4 tempo easy. I made more mistakes thinking about when to hit the drum, as opposed to letting my instincts take over.

After lunch, grocery/gift shopping, precussion and double-tapping tangoes, we went out for dinner at the trendy Nakasu district of Fukuoka. Think John and Richmond, but with a greater lounge density. Nakasu is also famous for signs by the river front.


Dinner was okonomi-yaki, yam pancakes filled with all manner of goodness. Much to my own surprise, I was fine with the squid. On top of that, this kick ass place provided me with Guinness. Only down side? Only 1/2 pints.


Pictured above is my cousin, Makoto.

These last few pics showcase the apartment that my cousins live in. My grandmother is part owner of the land that the complex was built on, so as a result, her and her family's rent is stupidly cheap. I don't want to give figures, but its less than if 4 people went out to a good restaurant for dinner and drinks. A spot in the car park costs 500 yen per month. Or roughly $5. Like I said, stupidly cheap.


The building itself is 13 stories, and about 30 years old. My aunt lives on the 13th floor:


Yep, a button for the 13th floor. No silly superstitions about 13 here. But, 4 is an unlucky number, as it can also mean death.

And last, but certainly not least, the new girl in my life, whom I have named Hurricane Honoka:

Cute as a button. Maybe even cuter ;D