"Green Tea Monkey"

I recently found out that there was a fellow "Inka" blogger working as an ALT with roots in Greensboro. Here is her blog, you should check it out. She's quite witty, and says a lot of the things I tend to glaze over about Japan.

Matchamonkey

Memoirs of a Mustache

So, starting at my middle school's graduation, I decided that I would stop shaving. Of course the purpose of this was to grow a beard, but since almost no Japanese man has one, it was quite a source of controversy at school. I got comments ranging from, "Are you sick?" to "You look tired." to "I get a bad feeling from you..." Yes that's right, my scruffiness was on every teacher's lips and no one knew what to say or do. Luckily for us both, we had a bit of a break between semesters and I was able to grow it out a bit more. When I got back, the comments changed from "You look tired", to "Not kakkoi" which means "Not cool".

Its hard to do the right thing sometimes. What is right is not always popular, and I had taken it on as a kind of personal quest for the kids of Fukushima to know what it looks like for a man (a real man) to have a beard. Sure, Clem teaches at one of the elementary schools on the island, and sure his beard is way more thick and luxurious than mine, but he doesn't live on the island. I have gotten reactions across the board. From young kids running from me in terror, to kids running right up to me and tugging on my chin hair, to just getting moderate stares in public. Some of the middle school girls thought it was cool, while others couldn't even talk to me without laughing. What a rollercoaster ride of attention!

Now, this is not the first time I've had a beard of this length, but it very well might be the last. Dorothy, bless her heart, is not fond of the beard. Seeing on how I will be marrying her in less than a year, I doubt it will ever resurface. Yep, this two month stint was kind of a hippy binge, a bachelor party for the face, a secret self indulgence of whiskery significance. Dorothy, of course, is not alone in the disdain for the beard. About 95% of all women I've talked with about it agree that "No beard" is the "Go beard". Oddly, though almost 100% of heterosexual men love it. They find it a icon of manliness, a symbol of significant maturity; something they can aspire to grow themselves. But, when everything is said and done, I'm not too interested in impressing straight men. So I shaved.

Well... I didn't shave. My friend Jill did. I made a deal with her this past weekend and if all conditions were met, SHE could shave it off, along with my hair. What better place to do this than a two day rock festival in Oita prefecture! So that's where we headed. Around midnight on Saturday night, slowly but steadily, the beard came off. Luckily others were there to record images for posterity. Hope you enjoy the shots as well as the new, clean cut, buttery smooth, bristly headed Mario.

Me and Jill at "Concert on the Rock".


A side shot of the beard.


Leah and I act like pirates in front of our tent. By the way, my sis made the shirt I'm wearing.


Final shots of the beard.


A little off the top please!


Jill misses my beard entirely and goes for the eyebrows...


Trimmin'


I watch as my masculinity is shaved away.


Ittai!


A progress report.


The "mustache game"




One of those shaver commercials.




No beard, but still a full head of hair.


Jill contemplates what hairstyle to give me.


A bit off the sides.


Jill gets distracted and starts taking pictures of mukade outside the bathroom.


Tadaa!

Japanese Patrick Stewart

Back home, I think a lot of people look like famous people. But, my friends don't usually agree with me. We just got a new councilor this month at our middle school. I really think he looks like Patrick Stewart. Can anyone back me up on this?

Ninja Town- Lost Heritage, or Rightfully Buried Blemish?

A few weeks ago I was fortunate enough to go to a little place called “Ninja Mura”. That means “Ninja Town” for those who don't speak Japanese. This place must had been quite something in the olden days of the early 1990’s, but is now nothing more than a hollow shell of what it once was. For me, it was a dream come true. I like abandoned places, I like Japanese themed stuff, and I love ninjas. I think I was a ninja at least two or three times for Halloween growing up. Thanks to the local Army-Navy surplus store, I didn’t have to travel the orient to be one; it only cost $30 and a parent’s permission. I think any guy in my age group could say that he saw Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles growing up and can remember how hot a topic it was when we learned Vanilla Ice was going to make a cameo in the sequel.

Unlike the fleeting fame of the Ninja Turtles or even the slightly more prolonged fame of Vanilla Ice, everyone has enjoyed the idea and concept of ninjas over the ages. The appeal of the ninja is timeless: like a 1990 Romanée-Conti La Tache’s perfect articulation of aroma and flavor, Niccolò Machiavelli’s The Prince’s insight into “everyday politics” which was preeminent in leading primatologists to help coin the phrase “Machiavellian Intelligence”, Marcel Duchamp’s The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even and its profound insight into male and female desires that inexplicably force suffering on the other, and (most notably) Coheed and Cambria’s newest album: Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV, Volume I whose prog-rock sounds and avant-garde concepts unfortunately just end up making it sound like their last album: In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3.

What was I saying? Oh yes, ninjas rock. They have inspired comics, video games, toys, costumes and youth of all ages around the world. I suppose they might be seen as somewhat of a blemish on Japan’s history but, if someone makes a cute theme park about them and makes sure the ninjas are depicted as fun loving colorful midgets with heads that look slightly like squids, people are sure to forget about all the actual murders that occurred.

Thus was the case until the early 1990’s, when I’m guessing Ninja Mura closed its doors. It is connected to an adjacent place called Rekishi-no-machi (History Town) that is now being fixed up as an antiques village. As a side note, I bought a camera at this antiques place that I managed to break within 24 hours (scroll down for more details). Yet, Ninja Town stays abandoned. Strewn about are the various games of chance, tabi slippers, faded admission tickets, partially dismembered mannequins, and rope climbing courses that resemble an ewok village. Gone are the real ninjas, with a mangy dog as the only guardian of the various buildings. Gone are the spectators whom would rise to thunderous applauds for the conclusion of what I can only imagine would be a spectacular display of “ninja theater”.

Yes, all that remains are the memories… and the nostalgia for what once was the inaccurate and romanticized depiction of a now obsolete culture of assassins. Enjoy the pictures.



























See more pictures of Ninja Town HERE

I bought a camera, I broke a camera...

This past Golden Week, when I went to Ninja Town, there was an antiques village next door. So, Phil, his dad, and I headed over for some post abandoned theme park celebration. There I found a Minolta "Uniomat" Rangefinder camera. It was in good condition and came with its own leather case and strap. I picked it up for about $15 and thought I'd give film a shot again. Basically, since May of 2005, I haven't shot a single roll of film, and I wanted to see if I had been missing something. So, I got a cheap roll of Fuji 100 ASA color film, cleaned the camera and popped it in. Over the next 24 hours I used up the film. It was at a waterfall in Maebaru that I got to the end of the roll, so I rewound it on the spot, took it out and put it in my pocket for safe keeping. Then I put the Minolta "safely" back in its leather case and slung it over my shoulder.

Then, right as I was walking by the stream that the waterfall fed into, the leather strap gave out and snapped in two places, severing the camera from my person. I watched as it hit the ground and I remember thinking "Oh, there goes my camera on the ground... I should pick it up." So I reached down slowly, but right at that moment it rolled down to a lower rock. I thought "Oh, it's on the rock now, I'll just get it..." So I reach down and just as I do, it rolls right into the water and sinks about two feet. Bubbles rose. I fished out the camera and it was, of course soaked through completely. Water gushed out of it. I have to say that I was a bit disappointed, but the thought of my brand new digital SLR being at the bottom of the river made me think "Hey, maybe it was fate why I got this camera and decided to leave the Nikon home today." Either way, I had salvaged the film mere moments before, and I wasn't going to get all that upset until I saw the pictures. You may ask if the camera was salvageable at all, since it was mostly a older mechanical camera. Well no, not really. The lens was a fixed 45mm, and water got inside the elements, effectively clouding up the lens like a non-waterproof watch face when it gets wet. Plus, the lightmeter is now completely shot.




I got the pictures developed yesterday, and I have to say that though the pictures have charm, I think I got about what I paid for. This was no Leica, that's for sure. Plus, it made me remember how expensive film can be. I got small prints of a 24 roll, with the optional $3 CD and it cost me about $15. Add in the $4 for the roll of film, and you have more than the price of the camera. I did some minor levels adjustments in photoshop and that's it. Keep in mind that the CD scans you get at the 1 hour development places aren't the best. But, the actual prints didn't look much better. So for what its worth, here are the best of the shots I took in the 24 hour span of owning a working rangefinder. Enjoy!

P.S. I'm sooooo happy I went digital.

Sports Day and some disappointment

If you were to learn anything about Japanese school life, it should be about "Sports Day". I feel that it is a good representative of the ideals which Japan tries to impress upon their youth. Without being too longwinded, I will try to explain:

Once a year, all schools have a sports day. Elementary, Middle, High school. All of them.

Students will practice for as much as two months beforehand for this one day.

Sports Day in itself is comprised of very few sports. Mostly running various distances, marathon-type stuff, etc.

There will be choreographed dances or other skits.

The school is divided into two teams (with names of colors) and pitted against each other.

Some teachers will also run and participate.

It is very militaristic. This includes marching in unison, shouting and chanting, and even some "sig heil" style salutes.

They usually fall on a weekend. But since all teachers have to go to it, you get a day off during the following work week. This day is called "Daikyu".

My middle school's Sports day is next week (Mother's Day), and I have to say my feelings are mixed. I think it will be fun to see the kids get riled up and excited, fun to run some short races, and photograph most of the day's events. But, today I got a bit disappointed. You see, I was put in charge of helping the teams paint their panels. These are basically large square boards that each team paints a inspiring mascot or exciting picture to boost team moral. Last year's designs consisted of Hokusai's "Great Wave" woodblock print, and a sweet spider panel. This year, since I was told I was in charge of the panels, I got really excited. It's been a while since I have had a chance to work on a project like this and I was looking forward to working with the kids and having a fun day of painting.

Well, things don't always work out the way you want them to, I guess. I came back to school today, the first day after our Golden Week vacation, to find the panels already completed. I had talked to the students right before the break, saying that I wanted them to come to me with some sketched ideas, but no one did. Apparently, they came into school during Golden Week, on a day I was actually in Fukushima, and just did it with some of the other teachers. No one even gave me a ring to see if I was around.

Now, I know that its silly to be upset about this. I don't think that I'm really upset at all. Just really really disappointed. Maybe I'm getting old (!) and take more offense to things like this, but why give me the responsibility if its won't be honored. I don't have much that I do at this school. I teach about 10 classes a week. I help correct my JTE's grammar and pronunciation. I read a lot of blogs on the internet. This was one of my few chances to really prove myself as a teacher at this school. Be a part of the "team" and do something that I was good at doing. We'll see how Sports Day goes, but as of right now, my enthusiasm for it has been crushed and now it just seems like an obstacle standing in the way of my weekend. Basically, something to prevent me from traveling anywhere significant. More and more I feel like a ornament hanging on the Japanese Christmas tree. I hang around and look pretty. I don't support the tree, and I'm not the shining star on top. I'm not connected to a string of lights that all work in unison. Just hang and look pretty. I wonder how many other JETs feel the same...

Am I out of line here?

Ninja Town Preview

Whew! Golden week was a multitude of picture taking events. I have a lot of sifting, sorting and editing to do. One of the highlights from the week was "Ninja Town", which is an abandoned theme park near Fukuoka. Here's a nice preview shot. More to come soon!