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Tuesday, April 16, 2013

The Monkey Army

Crap, A Monkey Army

The army wants their persimmons, watch out!
You know I would have never associate Japan with monkeys. In my mind monkeys are from Africa and roam the jungles with Tarzan. But, believe it or not, there are a lot of monkeys in Japan (I was going to go for a joke here, but might be a bit risky).
I went to a couple tourist attractions that had signs warning of the impending dangers of the surrounding monkeys. If you were unlucky they might throw rocks at you or steal your food. Or if they were in a really bad mood, throw their excrement at you. Luckily for me, I didn't have those issues.
They don't hope to be such a monkey.
If you’ve read my previous blogposts you know I worked from 8-4pm everyday. One morning I got a call from one of the English teachers at 6AM. First thought, why are they calling me so early. “Hello... so sleepy”. “Good morning do you want to do monkey patrol with me?”. “What is it and No is my pre answer”. “There was a reported sighting of a monkey eating vegetables in a patch near the school, the local parents need us to protect the children from them”. I thought it was a joke. “Ok good luck I’m going back to bed, enjoy your monkeys”. Tell Curious George not to be so curious. Curiosity killed the cat after all, does the monkey think he gets off the hook?
At the morning meeting the principal quoted that a monkey had come down from the mountains and was eating vegetables and may interfere with the children. I was guessing the monkey might ask them to skip school and eat raw vegetables with them or something. So mischievous.
One of the vice principals invited me over to his house a few weeks later, which happened to be in the mountains where that monkey supposedly came from.
His mother who was about 90 years old was standing outside. He mentioned they had a kaki tree, which I knew to mean a persimmon tree.
As I sat outside, the ninety year old mother came over to me, grasping a tiny sapling tree trying to stay still. I hoped the tree wasn't about to give way with her swaying. I put my arms out to catch her just incase it did. “Hello” she said in Japanese. “Did you want some kaki? We should eat them quick before the monkey army comes again, those little bastards come in droves.” I started laughing. I wondered if she could see I was in a foreigner, her accent was a local one heavily tainted by local dialect.
“Do you get a lot of monkeys through here?”,  I inquired. “They are an army! They come by and eat every kaki on that tree, its bare by the time we get to it. How will we put an end to the army? Each year it gets bigger. Maybe they are training others”.
“Hmmm... sounds like a real issue perhaps we should inform the police”, I half heartedly joked.
She had a serious look on her face, but wasn't focusing on me, so I still doubt she knew I wasn't Japanese, “Tried that, informed the police that they had got all my fruit on my tree and they didn't fight them about it”.
After a few minutes of her swaying and mumbling about the good days, I told her I knew an English teacher who happened to do monkey patrols each morning. I informed her I would request he add her kaki tree and the surrounding mountains to his patrol.
She seemed to be looking at me and asked my name.
I told her Nakamura to do with the whole “ I'm Japanese theme”.
I considered answering “The grandfather monkey”, but I didn't want to give her a heart attack.

I wanted to tell her I was the head monkey planning on the persimmon tree attack.

Monday, March 25, 2013

I Can See You Naked!

Little more spring in my hot spring

Too hot for me, cool it down
Too hot to traught
I got more than I asked for
I think I’m blind, naked men and onsens
Medussa just turned me to stone
Standing out like a sore thumb
The full monty hotspring style
Good luck with the wolves


I can see you naked!!

These are words you never want to hear unless you a stripper. Let me assure you I am no stripper folks, unless sexy is considered a hairy monkey (I think that was only in the 70’s). I don’t find it hot myself, but hey, different strokes for different folks as they say.

In Japan most people are not ashamed of their naked bodies. Especially for onsens aka hotsprings which are divided by sex, so most people are fine flaunting their wares. Myself? I'm a bit self conscious about my naked torso being examined by eyes and the occasional area by a microscope.
That being said, perhaps if I could blend in a little better (and be Asian), and not stand out so much I wouldn't be as self conscious regarding the stares at my privates.
I had a few Chinese-Canadian friends and they didn't look different. Smooth sailing for them. They blended in like ninja’s in the dark. For me, a big white hairy ape, that wasn't going to work. I was like the moon blocking the sun, the full eclipse.
Even I admit I'm not hot, look at my coat of hair.

When I was given my 4 inch towel at the front desk I asked what its for. Oh to cover your privates they told me. Ummmm? It’s a 4 inch square what am I supposed to do with that? I know some things are bigger in the West but this is ridiculous. It’s like covering the Eiffel tower with a stop sign. It’s not going to work.
I did my usual fake smile and thanked the lady. As we entered into the main area, I was informed we needed to rub ourselves with soap and wash it all off. As I happily sloshed soap all over myself and the two random people beside me (mostly soap in their eyes) I forgot of all my worries. I didn't care that the people beside me were getting blinded by soap. No, I was like a child in a bubble bath with his rubber ducky.
Rub a dub dub Mofo’s.
When I stood up I looked down to see soap bubbles and a pile of my hair (it looked like enough that I could knit a wig together). Gross!
Rub a dub dub mofo's!

As I started to walk everyone in the entire place turned to look at me. I would have hoped in the eyes, but nope, straight to the privates. I wonder how a stripper feels? I held my 4 inch towel as close as I could trying to cover the Eiffel tower. No magnifying glass needed for this area ladies. More like a demagnifier (if those exist).
I jumped into the water, apparently a no no in hotsprings and sprayed people in the eyes with my displaced water (at least its not soap I guess). I noticed a large rock wall behind us, approx double my height. “I can see you” a voice I recognized yelled. It was a girl’s voice! I looked around ashamed as I thought someone was watching me do cannonballs into this order laden society with my skin flapping in the wind. Oh shi$t!
I darted my eyes around trying to figure out who was watching me, other than the fifty of so men in various pools of hotspring water staring at my junk. And possibly the junk in my trunk (that means other area of privates for you non Black Eyed Peas fans).
I hoped she couldn't see through the wall and that no male had someone managed to drill a hole through the cement to see them.
The voice was my host-sister. I was super embarrassed to imagine that she was watching me.
After doing a Batman style investigation of my surrounds and verified she wasn't watching me I realized she meant to say “I can hear you”, but made a mistake with the English.

Her mistake could have been worse. Or maybe this isn't a mistake.


Other funny stories from my blog
 http://memoirsgaijin.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel 
(makes no sense just like my blog)
http://www.youtube.com/user/judoka4eva 

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Roppongi, Six Trees of Separation

Roppongi, Six Trees of Separation



Ah the night life, traffic lights and liquor. All a good mix.




My friend from University in Canada was living in Japan. His family worked for the Canadian Embassy in Tokyo so he invited me to stay with them. Sounded great I thought. I had forgot however, my friend was an alcoholic. Since I can’t drink worth a damn it didn't occur to me till I arrived this may be a mistake. “Dude, we are going to Roppongi tonight, let’s get smashed”, he told me. If you have never heard of Roppongi the Chinese/ Japanese characters means 6 trees. How bad could six trees be? Well, since I didn't know what Roppongi was notorious for, the answer is a lot. Its famous in Japan as a seedy place for foreigners looking to club hop, bar it up, go to cabarets, or massage girls (not neck massage) etc. As you know since its seedy there is a large yakuza (mafia) presence as well.
My friend convinced me that we would bike there and it would be awesome. By bike I mean bicycle not dirt bikes or some cool gas powered bikes as you are guessing. We started biking and I realized two thing. One I'm out of shape and two I was drunk as a skunk. There were tons of taxi’s all over the street. The traffic was terrible so we weaved, highly illegal I might add, through the taxis. I wondered if we would live the night. My friend fell against one taxi but got back on his bike and kept riding as if nothing happened. When we finally arrived, he informed me he wanted to start off at "The HUB", a foreigner bar. I said OK and followed him. We locked our granny bikes up and were just about to go inside. My friend seemed more tipsy than me and was like “Dude let’s go! Happy hour is almost over”. I wasn't too keen on drinking more. He started to run full sprint, the only problem was he didn't see the metal down door that had fallen down part way and smacked his head into it. It sounded like someone hit a gong and I started laughing. He was on his back not moving. I laughed for a few seconds until I realized he wasn't conscious. He seemed to be breathing, or at least I hoped. “Dude you OK?”, I asked. I couldn't remember the number of ambulance in Japan anyway, 112 or something, 911 doesn't work. He sat up and I noticed a gigantic goose egg on his head. I told him he had a little mark on his head. He didn't seem to care. He had just lost consciousness and probably had a concussion. Brains, what are they good for anyway. We headed into the bar and he ordered three “happy hour” drinks. I have no idea why he was having such a bad night, but his glass shattered in pieces while holding it. Literally he just had it in his hand and it shattered everywhere. I think they had the glasses in the freezer and the heat in the room made the glass unstable or something. Bah I have no idea, I'm not rocket scientist (although I do enjoy cosmology and occasionally alchemy as a side gig).
After that we left, he had drunk more than he should have. We ran into some nice Taiwanese girls. I asked them what they do and they said massage. I would love a neck massage, I was a bit stiff. I thought we were just chatting, but I soon realized they were trying to get us to come inside for a special massage. We were targets not friends. As we continued walking passed them this gigantic guy about 250 pounds came up and put his arm around my shoulders. I was making friends left and right tonight I thought. I wondered if he was from the U.S. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but I soon realized this was a ploy to put his arms around us to trick us into a bar he worked at. He was big so I didn't want to say no. Once we got in, I noticed we were the only white people. I didn't really care, except that no one was speaking English or Japanese, so I was super confused what was happening. Seems like everyone was an employee and they weren't from the U.S. I saw a flag that said Nigeria at the entrance. My friend didn't care and started dancing with the girls. The music wasn't Western, not that it matters. You can bump to anything you want. I started wondering what we had got ourselves into. Then all the sudden my friend started acting a bit crazy, semi yelling and not making sense. I wondered if this was an act or he was overly drunk. Perhaps both. I read later the Nigerian bars are famous for spiking the drinks and using high pressure tactics to entice you into bars with 250 pound dudes. If you don’t believe me read Wikipedia. Luckily I didn't drink there, just entered and stood out like a sore thumb. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roppongi
One of these doesn't belong here. I felt like the odd man out.


We headed to the next bar at around 3AM. It was super stuffy and I was thirsty. My friend continued drinking and headed to the bathroom. When he came out, he was like “Dude I threw up in the urinal I'm good to drink more”. I was like oh no. A bartender came up to us, “Someone threw up in the urinal, know anything about it?”. My friend who was a great liar answered “Ya, he had black hair and blue eyes he just headed downstairs”. The bartender went downstairs. This was the exact opposite of what we looked like. He’s smart even when he’s an idiot.I told him we should leave, since he’s an idiot. He agreed to both and we went outside. We couldn't find out bikes, so we started to walk home. Either the spot we left them was wrong or the Nigerians club guys got them. As we walked I saw a guy with a Nike hat that looked like Tiger Woods. He had a bodyguard looking guy with him.The next day I watched the news and it showed Tiger Woods highlights of him playing golf in the Tokyo region over the last few days. I wondered if I had seen him. 
If I did see him I would have told him to avoid the Nigerian bars.




What was Tiger up to in Roppongi? Hmmmm....


Other funny stories from my blog
 http://memoirsgaijin.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel 
(makes no sense just like my blog)
http://www.youtube.com/user/judoka4eva 


Thursday, January 31, 2013

Wasbi as a Meal, Mexican style



Wasbi as a meal, Mexican style


I can't even think of anything funnier than what it says.


What is real Wasabi? Well I’d say its like a bee stinging your insides. Anyone who has eating a large amount of it at once will attest to.
If you've never tried real wasabi its got a hotness to it like you wouldn't believe. As you may or may not know a lot of the stuff in the West is not real wasabi. Its green food colouring and some horseradish mixed together. The flavour is different and the “kick” isn't the same. Its almost like the kick in Inception.  Fast and unnerving.


Oh INCEPTION KICK, you are a shocker, just like Wasabi attacking my heart.

On a side note if you are eating all you can eat sushi, I'm willing to bet its 100% fake wasabi. They have to cut corners somehow. Oh and besides that just an FYI they probably aren't refrigerating the raw fish properly. But for $10-$15 in Vancouver how can I complain. PS If the chef is smoking or didn't wash his hands its probably not authentic Japanese either. Tell tale signs mother truckers!



Oh poor little Nemo. Eating at All you can eat, you probably ate him. Or a goldfish or two.


I remember one-time I went with my host family to sushi. My host mother told me its a great restaurant. I was so excited. She had ordered a beer for me. Although I'm allergic I figured I’d just take a few sips as a gesture of goodwill (and hoped for a gesture not of death). As I was eating a piece of sushi (with no visible wasabi) I couldn't breath. My mouth was on fire and my brain frozen in a contrasting state. It was as if I had just found a hot pepper in my slurpee and had brain freeze. Should I throw up (hopefully not out my nose for once) or cry. She asked me if everything was OK and I shook my head up and down yes then started to cry. I felt like wasabi was coming out my tear ducts. I grabbed the beer and swallowed the entire thing. I regretted that later, because when you are allergic to anything don’t push your luck. The toilet became my throne (TMI?). Or maybe I should say I became its King and made it do my bidding. Insert evil laugh here.



Personally I never like to read the instructions at each sushi restaurant. They are all different. Some had orange plates which meant wasabi already added, and if you add more you are about to experience a burning sensation of death (or close to it). If the plate was white, it meant no wasabi added, add a little till your heart’s content. Mine was content quite fast.
As such I would just add a little in my soy sauce and mix it around. That way I thought I would get enough either way. The general consensus is that Wasabi is there to kill parasites that may be remaining. Bad news for those that are eating all you can eat, on top of cheap sushi that is probably not kept to the correct temperature your fake wasabi isn't killing parasites. I generally equate cheap sushi with guaranteed diarrhoea “Or your money back.” Anyways, I had a Mexican-American friend and he loved to go out to sushi with me. He was also somewhat cheap like me as well. Since he knew I enjoyed a cheap sushi place in town he often joined me. (Which I mentioned in previous blogpost called Akindo). He liked his food spicy, as I'm sure most Mexicans do. I saw him fill his plate with Wasabi a few times and munch down like it was a freakin enchilada (I can't remember what an enchilada is but go with it). His eyes didn't water, but he did seem a bit spacey. When I asked him if he was about to order another plate he would often respond “Nah the Wasabi is so good, I love that tingling sensation”. When my bill came to about 1500 yen or $15 his would come to $5. I never asked him how things went south of the border upon extraction but I would imagine tingly as well. If it was anything close to the pain of it burning my tear ducts I wouldn't equate it with being enjoyable by any means.


On the whole Inception theme and a word of caution, DON'T MESS WITH CHUCK NORRIS!


Other funny stories from my blog
 http://memoirsgaijin.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel 
(makes no sense just like my blog)
http://www.youtube.com/user/judoka4eva 

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Teaching for the Mafia, AH SNAP!

You might think its awesome, and yes it does sound like it.
At the end of the day you may have to cut a finger off or two though. At least that's the impression I got.

If  I could walk around with a sword that'd be cool. Chopping stuff in half. Every little boys fantasy.
I guess I should explain that I think some of my regular students had parents that were mafia aka yakuza or I think at least some underworld connections.
My general consensus was that orange spiky hair and gold chains or for that matter any sort of gold bling equaled mafia. That may or may not be true. I loved the tracksuits with gold omega watches.
I was like dude you look good, but at the same time you don't. You be hurtin'. I didn't say it out loud for fear of losing my tongue.
If you look like this in Japan with that much bling you are definitely mafia.


Anyways back to reality.

Not only were some of my students families yakuza (mafia) or at least I thought, but a friend offered me a job. A good paying job he told me. Hmmm.. what do I have to do? For the right price I might (well actually 100%) will do anything.
He said teach English to three little kids. Great I thought, sign me up, should be as easy as pie.
That part I was wrong. What else is new. There seems to be a theme repeated in this blog.
He forgot to tell me the family was linked to the underworld, and this job might be my last. Or at least just a few fingers less. Incase you didn't know a lot of yakuza (mafia) in Japan, if they make mistakes have their fingers cut off for each mistake. I was known to make plenty.
I met the three kids and tried to teach them English games. One girl kept repeating in Japanese "I hate English and I hate you". Good start I thought. She loves me. Don't people insult to show love. One finger down.
I said OK let's start with a few fun games. "I hate games she said". Oh, perfect!
I setup the game which she then flipped upside down. My temper was starting to rise like the mercury on a summer's thermostat (I can't think of a better analogy right now). Maybe like the fires of Mordors erupting with the one ring to rule them all melting in it? (Lord of the Rings reference FYI).
OK so I was a bit mad, like Mordor from Lord of the Ring. It was a fitting mood for this little brat.

After a dreadful two hours and lots of crying (more on my part than hers perhaps) I drove back to town with her mother. So, things didn't go so well I mentioned. Your daughter is a brat, I don't think this is going to work. She begged me to continue, but I refused. When I got home I spoke to the guy that got me the job. He told me I better be careful. When I asked why, he said those dudes are connected and could take me out. I didn't know what he was implying at that point, will take me out to McDonald's? One of the children, the non brat one wanted to continue lessons, which I agreed to. They invited me to a family dinner. I spoke in Japanese and asked the father what he did. Well, various things, he said. I wondered if that involved killing people with guns and samurai swords. If yes, could I join them.
I continued with the lessons until I was ready to leave Japan. When I informed them I would be leaving soon, they informed me directly I was to find a replacement. I didn't know if I had an option to say No.
I wondered if that's what had happened with the guy that set me up, he was ordered to find me. I started to try to remember if he had all his fingers.
I found a super nice girl to replace me. I told her straight up I wasn't too sure what was with the family or what they did (but might be shady). She told me all she cared about was money.
That's the kind of girl you want.
Apperently the brat girl came back to the lessons and loved her. I heard she said "I love you teacher" in English every lesson.
WTF.

At least I didn't die I guess, or lose any fingers.

I was a little fearful I might have one finger become a USB drive.


Other funny stories from my blog
 http://memoirsgaijin.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel 
(makes no sense just like my blog)
http://www.youtube.com/user/judoka4eva 

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Four Weddings and a Funeral Minus Three Weddings

Four Weddings and a Funeral Minus 3 Weddings

Wow, how to be classy. I didn't do that, probably worse.

I've never been good at math, plus the title "Four Weddings and a Funeral" seemed catchy. The problem being, there was only one wedding not four, but ah just a few numbers off. 
I think there was a movie title like that with Hugh Grant.

Anywho..
I did go to a wedding and a funeral in Japan. Both were a little strict. I always think of weddings as a blast, but Japanese Shinto ones are a little overly dramatic and you need to follow the rules.
You have to say certain things which I don't recall (and I just mumbled ra ra ra a few times), since I didn't understand. You are also supposed to drink sake from a plate at a set time  but I misunderstood and drank it as soon as I saw it (bad luck x 1000 for the couple maybe?). Whoops!

Traditional Snowmen funeral. Bucket and all. Shinto was similar, in the fact they both like the colour white.

The funeral was similar except it was a Buddhist funeral and I messed up majorly, so I was laughing during the funeral procession. We were supposed to light incense and put it in this kind of sand area, but mine got too hot so I put it on the wood table and it started to smoke the wood. Luckily they blamed it on my foreign "Gaijin-ness" when in fact it was because I'm just an idiot.


I should have tried this at the traditional Shinto wedding, but with sake.


Incidentally I confused the Japanese character for my honourable condolences, to congrats on your honourable wedding. The Japanese/ Chinese character for honourable is the same, and I didn't recognize the other two, so I figured they were interchangeable.
Someone mentioned you can buy this special envelope at any grocery store, so I figured what the hell (what the hay for you younger people) why not buy one there. The same person mentioned you are supposed to put money inside of it. I found out later the quality of the bill matters as well. If you are congratulating someone you must ensure its a new bill crisp and flat. If its for a funeral you have to give an old crumpled ratty tat tat bill (aka heavily used). Who knew?
Naturally at the funeral I gave the wrong bill type to complicate matters.
As I handed him the envelope he gave me a strange look, as if shocked. He had seen the wrong characters I guess. I had forgotten the set phrase I was supposed to say so I decided to say something that sounded somewhat similar "I hope you get through your sickness, it won't last forever." Smooth recovery I thought. Maybe not.
I'm sure for him this was a WTF moment. First this stupid foreigner comes to my families funeral. He nearly burns down the Buddhist temple, he gives me an envelope with a small amount of money (that may have been another issue too) and to top it off he tells me to get over a sickness I don't even have. On top of that, he gets a bonus surprise when he finds a brand new crisp bill in reward for the death in the family. Whoops!
I'm lucky I didn't get a slap or had my own funeral. 
He did his cordial and 100% fake thank you and I walked away.
I suspect he has a voodo doll of me that he is poking everynight. My joints have been aching.


Hey a little too the left, my shoulder needs some relief. No more needles in the eye kindly.


Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Train Etiquette and Such


Train Etiquette and Such

You can say that again. I did see some foreigners do this (maybe me too. Little secret!)


You know there are a lot of rules on the train in Japan. Most of them involve behind considerate of others. But let’s get serious, we know foreigners are not going to be considerate and to top it off they are going to walk all over the rules and feign ignorance. I know cause I did it.
I found out a lot of the rules were even written in English. And amazingly most of them I could actually read and make sense of. The odd didn't, but this isn't about that.


A few common rules across any train company.


1) Don’t molest women (That’s probably pretty standard in Japan, in North America we don’t write that one cause its already understood by all, or you go to jail. Not in Japan I guess).
2) Don’t use your cellphone on the train. There are two reasons for this, one most of the signs claim that people who using pacemakers will suddenly keel over dead. If this was the case I think this would be a rule everywhere on the planet. But who knows, I'm no doctor (but I can perform brain surgery if you give me the chance!)
I don’t doubt holding a cellphone directly to your chest at the pacemaker is good, but I would think the people who are using it wouldn't get that close and rub them up (unless they are breaking rule 1 about molesting. I know I did. Kidding!).
The other reason has to do with noise, its an intrusion and burden to everyone else.They can’t escape your phone call and don’t want to hear about your story about feeding your pet chihuahua.
3) Give your seats to the elderly and needy such as pregnant women. For all the people that are kind in Japan, I found this rule to be broken left and right, I noticed the young people who would be wide awake would suddenly close their eyes at a stop when old people got on, then wait till the train started again to open their eyes. Note taken. I'm going to try that next trip.

I was always stressed about sitting around other gaijin (foreigners). I knew very well we were going to be the loudest on the train and everyone around us water to murder us.
One night when my girlfriend, Anthony (infamous from my other stories) and I were coming back on the train we got talked to by a random man. We were our typical selves, laughing saying stupid things and being loud. Anthony was telling some story and this Japanese guy (very nerdy looking) was sweaty heavily and staring directly at us. Finally he said "Shizuka ni shite kuremasu ka?" Can you be quiet for me. Anthony didn't know what he was saying so he continued his story and the guy said it in a higher voice like he was ready to snap. I thought it was funny and giggled, but I told Anthony he wanted us to shut up or he said he would kill us (which he didn't say). We tried to be a little quieter, I looked at the guys face and it looked like he really did want to kill us.
I think he had enough and walked to the next train car, even though I thought we had brought our volume down, apparently not.
I recall one time standing on a train with a bunch of Americans, one guy kept saying the girl standing beside him was super hot and she wanted him. I considered telling him you should be careful of what you say you never know who speaks English or who is even Japanese.
After he went on and on about how he should ask her on a date and for sure she would say yes, she turned directly to us and said “Thanks assh%#les. Enjoy Japan”.
I laughed. He was still convinced she wanted him. I told him he was right, but I lied.
He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed as they say.


For a while I thought this was a rule. BUST UP!? , wow they are strict. Its actually an advert.
A good one at that.



Other funny stories from my blog
 http://memoirsgaijin.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel 
(makes no sense just like my blog)
http://www.youtube.com/user/judoka4eva 

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