Friday, October 25, 2019

Life In Japan: Harvesting Rice



First, they prepare the soil.

Then they plant the rice.

The rice grows.

Then . . .

[ DRUM ROLL ]

They harvest the rice!

Can you feel the excitement?

Granted it's not as riveting as World Cup Rugby. . . or watching the Oscars . . . or having Vladimir Putin drop by for lunch.

But it's what they do here in Tambasasayama — year after year.  It's the cycle of farming, the rhythm of the seasons, the drumbeat of life.


Being raised in a major city, a factory town no less, I find this whole business fascinating.  Almost magical!  Detroit didn't have any farms back then, though I hear these days there are quite a few organic gardens in the empty lots remaining after the houses are burned down.

To really do this right requires bringing out some industrial-strength gadgetry.


I tell people I live in the middle of rice and soybean fields.  Indeed we do.  They of course rotate the crops to keep the soil full of vitality.  And throw other vegetables into the mix.

Just a few days ago, quite late in the season, they finally harvested the rice growing directly in front of our home.  As you can see in the photo below, we have a forest right behind us.  That's my wife Masumi's Mazuda Demio sitting out front of our place. 

She thinks it's funny I take so many "farm photos".  I guess it is.





[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]




Life In Japan: Harvesting Rice










Thursday, October 24, 2019

Life In Japan: Festival of the Portable Shrines



Every year during the third week in October we have a most unique and marvelous festival here called the Festival of the Portable Shrines.

I don't exactly know either its "purpose" or how to describe it.  Hopefully the photos and video will offer some idea what an exhilarating two days we have here in Tambasasayama, as the streets fill with colorful costumes, huge shrines either on wheels or being carried by the heartier men -- many of whom are extremely inebriated on local sake -- and visitors from all over who come to enjoy the festivities.

We see a lot of unfamiliar faces.  This festival coincides with the soybean harvest, and our town is known for having the most delicious soybeans in Japan.  So we see Japanese from all the surrounding prefectures -- the Japanese equivalent of states in the U.S. -- even from as far as Tokyo, which is over 500 kilometers (320 miles) away.  There's also a decent mix of Westerners in town.  ALTs -- Assistant Language Teachers who typically teach English in the area junior and senior high schools -- converge from the entire region.  This is also the time that the exchange students arrive from Walla Walla, Washington -- which is Tambasasayama's sister city in the U.S. -- to experience a two weeks concentrated dose of Japanese culture.


And here's a short video compilation from just last week.



See you next year!  Bring your smiles.


[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]



Life In Japan: Festival of the Portable Shrines










Friday, October 11, 2019

Life In Japan: Western Holidays




I admit, at first I had mixed feelings when I encountered Western holidays in Asia.  Wasn't it cultural pollution?  Wasn't any place safe from Ken and Barbie dolls, the Easter Bunny, Superman, Santa Claus, Ronald McDonald, Taylor Swift?  Was Western capitalism going to turn the entire surface of the planet into a Universal Studios City Walk?

Gradually, however, I've adjusted to the fact that in Asia, Japan in particular, the modus operandi tends to be a sponge more than a condom.  The cultural roots here are so deep, a little cross-pollination in fact reinforces the uniqueness of the region's distinctive features.

Besides, Japanese are a bit selective, tending to embrace the funner holidays, with a clear preference for those which can be commercially exploited.

That brings into the fold Christmas, Father's Day, Mother's Day, Easter, Valentines Day -- which I've written about in another article as well as its enhancement with the addition of White Day -- and Halloween.

Japanese already exchange gifts at a frenzied pace.  It's considered rude and unacceptable to visit anyone without bringing a gift.  It's not just social visits.  I had a lady almost drive into me when I was riding my bicycle.  She barely brushed against my pant leg with her car and I just laughed, smiled and waved, then rode off.  She actually took the trouble to track down "the American" and the next day showed up at my house with an interesting present -- it was a bag of fresh eggplants and a note.

As you'd then expect, all of the Western holidays are celebrated with gifts, maybe holiday cards.  But that's it.  They don't shut down the stores and banks.  There are no Halloween or Easter parades.  To alert the buying public about these holidays, decorations come out, appropriate to the occasion.  There might be some posters in the windows of a store, and special products display.  At Christmas in our traditional rural town, there are a few large coniferous trees decorated with Christmas lights.  For Halloween candy is put out on sale, as much as six weeks in advance.  But the reality is, these holidays are entirely low key affairs, certainly not the extravagant spectacles we often experience in the West.

Let me qualify that slightly for a some locales other than Japan.  In Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) Vietnam, for the month of December, the whole town goes into a Christmas frenzy.  Tons of decorations, tinsel and gaudy trees, fake snow, fake snowmen -- is that PC? maybe it should be snowpersons -- and Santa's helpers (usually cute girls) running around handing out advertising fliers.  And then there's Bangkok, Thailand, which gives Ho Chi Minh City a run for its money -- literally, as it's entirely about sell sell sell -- for Christmas hoopla.


Having said all of this, I will confess that I can't suppress the allergic reaction I get when I walk into a Japanese supermarket, restaurant, mall during November and December and am subjected to the Christmas carols I typically heard back home in my homeland of birth, holiday songs which cumulatively I've heard at least 100 million times.  Maybe more!

The problem for me mostly is the schizophrenia of contemporary Christmas.  Or maybe a better way to characterize it here in Asia is the "disconnect".

The schizophrenia infects the U.S. and Canada.  What was once a fairly sacred holiday celebration has over the years become an orgy of consumer excess, with brawls and fist fights breaking out over Christmas sale items at Wallmart and other stores. 

Not that the religious version holiday itself didn't have some problems.  Stepping back from the official story a bit, it all seems rather unsavory and unlikely.  Virgin wife and her presumably sexually-frustrated but stoic husband are traveling.  Failing to have access to Trip Advisor or a good travel agent, they can't get a room.  To complicate matters, she's pregnant by God, creator of the entire Universe.  Why did the creator of the Universe choose this particular lady in the first place?  Virginity was "the thing" back then and God certainly had His pick.  Anyway, she goes into labor so they decide to hole up in a manger. Talk about unsanitary!  Cow and goat poop everywhere.  The potential for very serious infection is high.  But no worries.  She spits out the Son of God under these inauspicious circumstances.  Giving birth was that much of a breeze back then that a carpenter -- her patient and enduring husband -- was able to pull this off.  With carpenter's tools?  What did they do with the afterbirth?  Being part-and-parcel of the birth of the Son of God, it seems it would have some sentimental value.  Then after the birth, three wise men show up, guided to the mangy manger by a heavenly object we presume wasn't a helicopter.  They just happen to know the Son of God, halo in place and in full view would be there, thus they brought appropriate gifts to celebrate the special occasion.

The result is that among the enormous piles of "stuff" people shop for starting on Black Friday -- how weird a name is that, for Christ's sake? -- are Nativity scenes.  I guess that makes maxing out credit cards more of a sacred, heavenly-endorsed exercise. 

Some folks erect huge, expensive, gaudy Nativity scenes on their front lawns. 



(Rumor has it that Jeff Bezos has live humans in his Nativity scene.  They're, of course, given occasional bathroom breaks and the chance to run down to 7-11 to buy food.  Their families are allowed fifteen minutes on Christmas Eve to visit them as long as they don't attempt to cross the electric fence surrounding the charming, real-life action portrayal of the birth of Jesus.  This is, of course, just a rumor, one I'm starting right here, because the beauty of the internet is that you can say what ever you want and people will usually not question it.)

Anyway, what was considered over the centuries by Christians as a defining moment in time, inaugurating for eternity a new era for all that is and will be -- the birth of the Savior of Humankind -- has in the U.S. mutated into the most defining moment each year for the consumer economy.  Around 1.9 billion Christmas cards are sent out annually and the average person does 25% of all their discretionary spending during the holiday, even though it's questionable how much discretion they show.

Christmas is less schizo and for me here in Japan, as I mentioned, more of a 'disconnect'.  Being a Buddhist and Shinto country, there is no attention paid to the virgin birth and the epic arrival of Jesus on Planet Earth.  It's strictly a commercial enterprise, though not on the scale of the U.S. and many other Western countries.  It's an excuse to buy stuff and give gifts with pretty wrapping.

It's also an excuse to eat fried chicken!  Yes . . . fried chicken.

In a stroke of marketing genius, several decades ago KFC embarked on a campaign to convince the Japanese that fried chicken was the preferred meal at Christmas in the U.S.  No one apparently bothered to ask any Americans or they would have found out that it's either turkey or ham at Christmas and no one in their right mind would eat fried chicken.



The campaign worked and now people place orders with KFC, of course, sometimes as far ahead as a month in advance -- can't risk having no fried chicken on December 25th -- for buckets of the Colonel's unique blend of herbs and spices.  Honestly, it's such a novel idea, this year I may try it myself.  Why not?  How does the expression go?

When in Tokyo do as the Tokyoans!

Something like that.

One recurring incident which never fails to amuse me is when people who should know better -- friends who know I live in Japan, not in the U.S. -- ask me something like . . .

"How was your Thanksgiving?"

Now I'm not an expert on Japanese history, but I feel safe in saying that in spite of the fact that navigation was touch-and-go back then, the Pilgrims never made a stop here.  And if they had, they wouldn't have had fried chicken for their welcoming banquet with the local folks.  Maybe sea cucumbers?  Or sashimi?

For related reasons, the Japanese don't celebrate Independence Day, Memorial Day, or Martin Luther King Day.

So don't ask.


[ This originated at the author's website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]



Life In Japan: Western Holidays










Sunday, October 6, 2019

Life In Japan: My Bike Ride to Teach English



I've recorded what is possibly the most boring video ever made but some snoopy folks wonder if I really do live out in the country, in the middle of rice and soybean fields.  Well skeptics, here's proof.  Sorry the camera shakes so much but maybe viewers can get some idea how incredibly beautiful it is here in rural Japan.

If you actually make it to the end of the video, you'll see that I teach my classes in a yurt (photo above), a structure which is Mongolian in origin.  What can I say?  The Japanese love to mix and match.  Unfortunately, this one leaks in the rain, is a cauldron in hot weather, and a freezer in cold.  What I endure to spread the mother tongue!


Now I only have adult students.  But a while back I had two young sisters, ages 6 and 7, who were about to move to Guam.  Because it's a U.S. territory, English is the predominant language and for them to attend school there required them getting up to speed.  Here are Mio and Joyce.



I also had some "guest teachers" for one class, a recently-married couple from Sweden -- actually they're German but live in Stockholm -- my wife Masumi and I met couchsurfing a few years back.  They came to Japan and since their English is so good, I paired them up with my adult students for practice.



That's the story.  I ride my bike to and from class whenever it's not raining.  Many of the photos appearing in other essays at this site were taken on that bike ride.  I frankly never get tired of riding anywhere here in our traditional, rural town.  There's still a lot to see and discover.  People I hardly know often wave.  Smiles are our common language.


[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]



Life In Japan: My Bike Ride to Teach English












Tuesday, October 1, 2019

Life In Japan: The Naked American



I taught English full-time here in Japan for a whole year in 2008.  There were all levels of classes, all ages, from beginner to advanced, from 4-year-olds to folks in their eighties.

One Friday morning in August or September, I walked into my advanced English class, situated at a cross-cultural community center on the edge of town, and it was obvious something was being shared my students thought was funny which I apparently wasn't supposed to know.  They were giggling and looking conspicuously guilty.  It was a small class, only five students, and I guess I caught them somewhat by surprise.  Which itself didn't make sense, since it was one-minute before class was supposed to start.  Perhaps they wanted to be caught in their conspiratorial pow wow.

"Okay, students.  What were you talking about?  What's so funny?"

"Nothing, JD.  We were laughing about something?"  As they continued to giggle.

"We have no secrets here.  You're required to tell me what your conversation was all about.  I think it might be a law."

(Conferring among themselves.)

"Should we tell him?"

"Really?"

"I'm embarrassed.  You tell him."

"No, you tell him."

Finally, one of them spoke up.

"Uh . . . it's just . . . actually . . . you have a nickname here in Sasayama."

"A nickname.  I have a nickname?  What nickname?"

"Yes.  People here call you [more giggles] . . . the naked American."

"The naked American?  The naked American!  I don't understand.  Why would they call me the naked American?"

"Well . . . people see you riding around on your bike without a shirt."

Without a shirt.

I thought about it.  I'd never really noticed.  Did I ever see any guys without their shirts?  It's not something I really pay much attention to.

Of course, in the U.S. it's very common in hot weather for us fellows to whip off our shirts to stay cool.  There are even signs in convenience stores:  No Shirts, No Shoes, No Service!

I started to look around.  I've been paying attention to this important item now for about eleven years.  And quite honestly, I have only seen a man without a shirt once or twice.

In eleven years!


This reminds me of my three months in Nepal, a rustic, conservative country.  For six weeks I lived in a beautiful town called Pokhara, enjoying its natural beauty, lovely lake, Peace Stupa, friendly locals, great hiking, calm.

I specifically remember thinking how insensitive many Western girls were.  All of the local women dressed very modestly, as Hindus and Muslims, covering themselves head to toe in beautiful genuis, informal sari-like gowns.



It was very obvious what the local standards of modesty were.  Agree with them or not, this was their culture and I thought it appropriate to be respectful.  Yet, because the weather in Pokhara was hot to very hot, the ladies from Australia, Europe, and so on, walked around in halters and bikini tops with their bellies bared, side boobs and cleavage in full display.  Then there were the shorts, short shorts, very short shorts.  The overall effect was more exposed flesh than covered.

How inconsiderate!

How insensitive!

How rude!

Uh . . . sort of like me riding around on my bicycle without a shirt here in Japan.

Busted . . . and humbled!



At the same time, I now understand things are changing in the U.S. in some unanticipated ways.  Not that I have any intention of going back to witness the new "freedoms" in person, I just read that women can go topless now in six states in the U.S., as decided in a recent federal court ruling.  "It’s a huge victory for plaintiffs Brit Hoagland and Samantha Six, who sued the city [Fort Collins, CO] over its law as part of the #FreeTheNipple movement, calling it an attack on gender inequality."

See?  I was WAY AHEAD of my time, the creator of a new social movement, and I didn't even realize it -- the #FreeTheNipple movement!

I'm so heartened that people are putting time and energy into the real threats to happiness and health here on this planet.


[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]



Life In Japan: The Naked American