|
|
|
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Update to my last post:
My bookmark can be seen on this webpage. Anybody who reads Spanish and some Japanese is welcome to translate it for me... As part of my prize and I will be receiving some free photo books of Spain and as well as some complementary printings of my bookmark. Whoohooo! I know, I get so excited over the smallest things. Silly Garrett, books and bookmarks are for old cynical sarcastic glasses-wearing introverted anti-social quasi-intellectual people AKA people just like me. Oh yeah, they spelled my name wrong. Doh. | (0) comments 
Saturday, June 26, 2004
katta!
(i won) I woke up this morning to find a phone message from my host family... while I had no problems reading most of the message, the part that I couldn't understand well was a large amount of names in Katakana. All I could understand was that someone or some organization had called me and wanted to go somewhere. Everyone had left the house, so I couldn't ask anybody what was happening... It all made sense when I checked my e-mail here at the internet cafe. A couple of months ago, I had entered a bookmark design contest that I read about in the newspaper. Turns out I won... something. The Japenglish of the e-mail was a bit difficult to understand. The bookmark: 
The picture is the same of the cherry blossoms I took on this day. Home in America, I never win anything. But for some strange reason, I'm a winner here in Japan. Wow, gaijin power... ... ... ... ...ummm yeah. .:. are you down? This was posted on AngryAsianMan a few weeks ago (06.16.04), but it's so hilarious, I have to repost it here. Are You Down? The Code for Being a Young AA/APA/APIA/AAPI Activist By Minnie Yuen '04, Margot Seeto '04 Wellesley College, and Lisa Wong Macabasco UC Berkeley '03 (guest writer of UC Berkeley's Hardboiled) One point for each question answered in the affirmative. 1. You own a BlackLava t-shirt. (+1 if you have the V. Chin shirt, +2 if you wear it to Asian American events.) 2. You own a spoken word CD. 3. You are or once were a spoken word artist. (+1 If you performed in a skinny scarf and spaghetti strap tank top.) 4. You hate Abercrombie & Fitch and dog on Asian Americans who wear it, even if they bought it pre-boycott. 5. You think Yuri Kochiyama is totally rad! 6. You own an autographed copy of "Better Luck Tomorrow." (+1 If you were on the street team for BLT.) 7. You have a poster of one or both of the following: 1. Che 2. Malcolm. 8. You HELLA think that San Francisco is the center of the universe and the APA Movement. 9. You dyed your hair bright red at one point. 10. You protest the Euro-centric, hegemonic, patriarchal, heterocentric, capitalist petty bourgeoisie of THE MAN. 11. You are a "brother" or "sister" of the "The People's Movement." 12. Instead of saying "goodbye," you say "peace". 13. You have a Xanga, are on Friendster, and were a part of Asian Avenue. 14. You write your Friendster testimonials in Spoken Word verse. 15. You AIM name includes the words "Angry" or "Asian" or "Yellow Brown Power." 16. If you wear glasses, they must be the thick, plastic, black rimmed glasses to show the world how intellectual you really are. 17. You are an APA conference whore. 18. You cried the first time you heard "I Was Born with Two Tongues". (+1 If you actually cried and not just claimed you cried.) 19. You majored in, minored in, or helped start Asian American Studies at your school. 20. You only listen to hip hop and only really enjoy Talib Kweli or Dead Prez. 21. You have read one, part or all of the following: The Autobiography of Malcolm X, Fast Food Nation, Stupid White Men, or anything by bell hooks. 22. You're so underground, you're f****** magma. 23. As you chain smoke, you intellectualize how nicotine is the tool of THE MAN. 24. Every time you watch TV or movies, your Asian-dar kicks in. ("Look! Asian woman's arm in the back! WHAT WHAT!") 25. You mad dog Asian women with White boyfriends (minus 1 if you've ever had a White boyfriend; minus another 1 if you actually admit you had a White boyfriend, but you swear it was when you were really young and before you became down). 26. You hate on AZN Asians as much as White people, if not more. 27. You hate on Asian fraternities or sororities, but used to go those parties before you were down (minus one if you ever pledged an Asian sorority, minus two if you were a Little Sis). If you scored 21 or more: Congratulations, Poster Child de La Revolucion. You're so down, you're abajo. After finishing your manifesto and reaping vegetables in your biosphere, we'll see you at ECAASU 2005, fool. Paz. 11 - 20: Poseur. What's up, poser? Put down that copy of Audrey and read Asian Americans: The Movement and the Moment already. Practice raising your fist and looking hard in the mirror when no one's looking. 0 - 10: You're a tool of THE MAN. Proceed immediately to San Francisco and get a picket sign already. .:. I scored a 21... whut whut whut(thumps chest)! Makes me want to buy this t-shirt. Anybody wanna send it to me? heh. On another note, as the writer of AngryAsianMan mentions... I feel like a stereotype. But certain truism about angry asian man do exist, I suppose. There's not enough angry asian men here in Japan. If they happen to be angry, it's never about social r spiritual issues... usually it's things like their hair or brandname bags. Yes, men here in Japan are afflicted with handbag mania as well. Any man who carries a Louis Vuitton handbag is not a man at all in my book. | (0) comments
Friday, June 25, 2004
i used to love H.E.R.
I just love having a library of MP3s on my computer. As a sort of ritual, I like to sometimes load my entire collection into WinAmp, randomize the list a couple of times, play a song, and see what comes up. It's a sort of music geek game I play, especially when I don't want to think and I just want to zone out to some music... Since most of my music collection is hip.hop, 7 times out of 10, a hip.hop joint gets played. The following is from the song that got played last... .:. (chorus) exctasy, coke, you say it's love and it's poison schools in which i learned they should be burned and it's poison physicians prescripting us medicine which it's poison doctors injectin' our infants with the poison religion mis-overstood is poison (end chorus) sisters up in my hood trying to do good given choices when pregnant drop out of school, or have an abortion stop working, hopin' that they find a man that will support them up late night, on their mother's cordless thinkin a perm or bleachin' cream will make them better when they gorgeous white girls tannin', lipposuction fake t*tties are implanted, fake lips that's life destruction light-skin women, biracial hateful toward themselves denyin' even their blood I don't judge Tiger Woods but I over-stand the mental poison that's even worse than drugs (chorus) radio and TV... poison white jesus... poison and any thoughts of taking me down is poison who want beef now? my heat shall annoint them... (pah-lao) (interlude, Nas monologue) Never to worry... all the wrongdoers got it coming back to them a thousand times over. Every dog has its day, and everything flips around. Even the most greatest nation in the world has it coming back to 'em. Everybody reaps what they sow, that's how it goes. Innocent lives will be taken, it may get worst... but we'll get through it, y'all. Be strong. (end interlude) the chinamen built the railroad the indians saved the pilgrim and in return the pilgrim killed 'em they call it "Thanksgiving", I call ya holiday "Hell Day" 'cause I'm from poverty, neglected by the wealthy me and my n*ggas share gifts everyday like Christmas slay b*tches and party everyday like this is the last i'm with my heckles, connect 'em, we hit'n the lab this is my level, f*ck'n forget you mad it's all poision all my words to enemies it is poison rappers only talk 'bout keys is all poison how could you call yourself emcees, you ain't poison think about the kids you mislead, with the poison and any thoughts of taking me down is all poison who want beef now? my heat shall annoint them... (pah-lao) -"What Goes Around" - Nas (Stillmatic) .:. What a great song... I love Nas. I wish all hip.hop was conscious and socially relevant. As Dave and Akito have commented recently, the bling-bling evil of mainstream hip-POP is a bit disappointing. .:. In relation to my adventures in English teaching, most of my students are very surprised when I tell them my favorite music is hip.hop - the reason being that I've acquired a sort of funny reputation of being one of the more "scholarly" teachers at my school. Students aren't allowed to request specific teachers, but during the lesson, they naturally ask lots of probing questions. Since I'm not the type of person to lie in their face, they therefore know many of the following facts about me that in there opinion, typecast me as brainy:
While I confess to a certain degree of nerdiness, I don't think I'm the smartest teacher at my school - one of my fellow Americans is a Columbia alumni; one of the Brits was in law school; and one of the Canadians is an ex-college professor. But what I dislike is the stereotype that hip.hop / rap music is unsophisticated. Sure, it's written in slang / "ebonics", but anybody who is fan can translate the ideas into the pseudo-intellectual English of academia, such as this entry a couple of years ago about Mobb Deep's Shook Ones Pt. II. .:. *Going to public university is very prestiguous in Japan. Most of the best universities are public and the unspoken consensus is that the country's best school is Tokyo University... a public university. **Unlike America, ministers, monks, pastors, and priests are held in very high regard because Japan's Confucian-influenced culture of course prizes education. Many Shinto and Buddhist priests in Japan come from families whose lineage stretches back several generations - on top of that, it was common practice for several of Japan's most famous generals, emperors, and lords to become priests or monks upon retiring. .:. For the non-believers... a quick translation of the above song's most difficult ending verses: Chinese coolies constructed the railroad. Native Americans helped the first European immigrants to survive. Both groups were rewarded later by extermination. While they call the holiday "Thanksgiving", I call the same holiday "Hell Day". I come from an improverished background that has not been aided by those who possess considerable financial assets. Myself and my friends share what possessions we have as in a fashion similar to Christmas. Daily, we kill cowards and engage in festive rituals without regard to the future. I meet with friends and return to the studio. These activities sum up my current existence and I am not fazed by your anger. It's poison - the words I speak to my enemy. It is poison when so-called entertainers only talk about kilograms of drugs in their music. It is all poison that you call yourself representatives of hip-hop. You aren't as tough or dangerous as you believe. Consider the young people whom you mislead with your falsehoods and erroneous philosophy. Any plans you may scheme to cause my demise is all poison. Who would like to start a feud with me? My firearm shall be utilized against those who wish so. .:. But yes, MP3s and digital music are a good thing. Been thinking of buying a MP3 player lately - either the Sony I mentioned previously, an 15gb or 20gb iPod, or a new MD player. Some people doing are doing comparisons already, too. They all have their advantages, I suppose. Hrmmm, consumerism... | (0) comments
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
father's day retrospect
...and so, that's how I spent Father's Day. Sometimes words aren't enough to fully describe what you're feeling. In times such as these, I suppose saying nothing is saying enough. ... | (0) comments
Sunday, June 20, 2004
Doh.
Wrote something I wanted to post for father's day, but I left it on my laptop. It has been a day of blunder-age. That is all. Sorry, Dad. .:. A song however, does briefly come to mind. Father of mine tell me where have you been? You know I just closed my eyes and my whole world disappeared. Father of mine take me back to the day when I was still your golden boy, Back before you went away. I remember blue skies, walking the block. I loved it when you held me high, I loved to hear you talk. You would take me to a movie, you would take me to the beach, You would take me to the place inside that is so hard to reach... .:. James has re-posted something good, though. | (0) comments
Friday, June 18, 2004
behold, the golden calf
Possible interpretations of the above picture: 1) it's a pink bunny 2) it's my company's mascot 3) it's pelvic thrusting (take that, take that...) 4) it's anatomically correct - but the front or the back? 5) it's hyper-kawaii (cute) nature is aku (evil) 6) it's funny 7) all of the above .:. I mentioned that my letter might be published in the newspaper i read here in Japan. Turns out they actually did publish it. Whoa. The original unabridged version: To The Editor: I'd like to congratulate the Daily Yomiuri for running the recent article "Swingin' At the Civic Center" by Devin T. Stewart. While to some people the article may have seemed like a trivial piece of writing, it's portrayal of the human side of Chinese immigrants is a good benchmark for any future articles about this community and other immigrants here in Japan. I enjoy the wealth of available English-language press here in Japan, but as an American of Chinese descent, I find it very disturbing that the vast majority of articles printed about Japan's immigrant Chinese community to be incredibly negative. Stories of "Chinese crime" range from simple sensationalism to blatant racist propaganda. Japan's other Asian communities, especially Japanese citizens of Korean descent, also are forced to endure similar accusations from the media. A complete picture of Asian immigrants here in Japan needs be presented in the newspapers and other media - not just a distorted caricature that strips the humanity of Japan's immigrant groups. Recent history is filled with examples of the terrible things that happen when groups of people are no longer consider to be human beings. During WWII in the US, American newspapers screamed the racial epithet "JAP" after the attack on Pearl Harbor and claimed that anybody who was ethnically Japanese was a threat to the country. Soon after, a presidential order robbed over 120,000 Japanese Americans (most of whom were US citizens) of their personal property, legal rights, and dignity - all without trial or solid evidence. They were forcibly rounded up like cattle and sent to hastily built internment camps. While many of the young Nikkei volunteered to fight for America (their all-Japanese American frontline combat unit, the 442nd, became one of the most decorated in American military history), their families were held hostage in the internment camps for the duration of the war. The public did little to stop the entire injustice because they believed what the American media had told them - that all Japanese people were evil, untrustworthy, and being sub-human, they were undeserving of fair treatment. It took over 40 years after the war for their descendents to receive an apology and reparations from the US government. Even today, the scars of that injustice still mar the Japanese American community. That scenario may seem unthinkable here in Japan, but the negative Japanese attitude toward its Asian immigrants inevitably results in mistreatment (both overt and covert), as well as other tangible effects. If Japan is to fulfill its ambitions of boosting friendly relations with neighboring Asian countries and growing a profitable tourism industry, here's the quickest solution: it is imperative that the attitudes of many Japanese people toward Chinese immigrants and other Asian immigrants be changed for the better. Nothing is fixed by the Japanese media's blanket scapegoating of immigrants for issues like crime or the weak economy. The Japanese public needs to see its Asian immigrant community as an opportunity for positive growth - not a threat or burden to the existence of Japan. It's obviously not a simple or easy task to change the public's negative view immediately, but the Japanese media can encourage progress on the issue by balancing its reporting. However, if articles like "Swingin' At the Civic Center" continue to remain rare, the views of the Japanese public will without a doubt, stay negatively biased toward its Asian immigrants. With a biased citizenry, Japan also will continue to bear the stigma of being an xenophobic, unfriendly country - a tragedy since I believe sincerely that Japan's people and culture have a lot to offer to the world around them. .:. Obligatory English teaching story from today: One of my students, Miss I, is a very high level student who's incredibly intelligent, which makes my job easy - I can almost speak to her like I would speak to another native English speaker. That and she fulfills the stereotype that all Japanese airline stewardesses are bijin (beauties, lit. "beautiful people"). Easy on the eyes is always a bonus... heh. Of course, as science has shown, beautiful people are smart. Damn, I hate being ugly. The topic of the conversation: phobias. Gar: So what are you afraid of? Miss I: What do you call being afraid of high places? Gar: Acrophobia. But wait... you're a flight attendant, right? (Miss I smiles) Miss I: Yes. I can't sit by the window. Gar: Eh? I don't believe it. But, I'm an English teacher and I'm shy... do you believe me? (Miss I pauses) Miss I: ... no. haha. .:. Two more days until Father's Day. | (0) comments
Thursday, June 17, 2004
sore umi ga kitanai yo
As promised, pictures of Suma... 
The beach. 
Beauty (ja nai) and the Beach. haha. Most of my students think it's funny that I enjoyed going to Suma, hence the title of today's entry (translation: that beach is dirty...) I guess they don't know that while I like looking at the ocean... i really ain't down with swimming in it. I'm a horrible swimmer, anyways. I got a lot of bad memories of summer morning swimming lessons that my mother would force to go to... bleh. I'm the kid they'd have to threaten and/or shove to get in the pool. .:. Father's day is soon. I still don't what I'm going to do for the day, but I know I have to do something or the day will be too hard for me. There's plenty of distractions on that day - a friend's BBQ in the afternoon, an evening party with my school staff and fellow teachers, and a possible late night outing for a friend's birthday. Many distractions... but engaging in distractions is just avoiding issues that I need to face. In many ways, my life continues to focus around my father's day. So many of things that make me who I am, from my faith, to my character, to my relationships with other people - they all reference back to it. In Murakami's Norweigian Wood, there's a great line that resonated with me... In the midst of life, everything revolved around death. I've been having trouble sleeping recently. My father's passing and the absence in these past 15 years still lingers inside me. Ones parents seem to exert a metaphysical gravity on the lives of their parents and my father is no exception... the force of who he was shapes me, molds me, crushes me, and wounds me... my body is the vessel for fragmented heart. All men are sons and sons have been shaped by their fathers. The advice I'll one day give any daughters I might have: If you want to understand a man, understand his relationship with his father. Three more days... I'm sure I'll still be marinating on things. Akito and Dave also have written a little bit in relation to the holiday... .:. Random -The Fakers get beatdown by Motown in 5 games. Niiiiice. I have sympathy only for GP. -Digital Gravel is dope. I want this shirt and this shirt... hrmmm, wonder if they ship to Japan... -Transformer therapy is still in effect. 
Decepticons always got the guns... heh heh. | (0) comments
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
i-meru bairasu
Stupid e-mail viruses. Don't people have the sense not to open strange e-mails? My usual Tuesday night internet cafe visit got derailed because the all the cafe's computers have been infected. I'm currently checking internet at another cafe, but this cafe doesn't allow use of my handy USB toy... probably because of similar virus fears. There's a serious lack of virus protection programs at the internet cafes here in Japan... at least the cheap joints I usually frequent. 'Nuff geek speak... .:. No USB drive = no pictures to post, which sucks because this weekend had some great weather. Yesterday, I went out west of Kobe to the city of Tarumi with some friends to an outlet mall area called "Porto Bazaar". Wide spaces, discount merchandise... American capitalism at its finest. Didn't buy a thing, though. I'm surprised I exercised such restraint. The real fun was after the outlet shopping... I made a short stop by Suma beach and took some pictures of the ocean. I'm a horrible swimmer, but there's something spiritual in being able to just watch the ocean on an uncrowded beach. Stuck in Japan's concrete jungles most of the time, having a bit of nature is a nice way to give myself some perspective about things. .:. Speaking of restraint, travel is looking to be near impossible as summer airplane ticket prices start to spike. Since one of my goals during this whole Japan adventure is to save some money, I'm going to have to wait to avoid having my bank account raped. To just travel to Hokkaido (northern most Japan) is over $700 during the summer! Prices to travel to Okinawa are equally ridiculous. takai sugiru na... Guess the next opportunity to travel might not be until September. I've been doing more research and I've found that actually, it might be possible for me to get away to Shanghai, Seoul, or Bali for a reasonable amount... we'll see. I guess if I don't buy an airplane ticket, this is a sexy alternative. It just came out here in Japan and I've been playing with it at the store. Yes, I'm oh-so-susceptible to certain kinds of evil consumerism. Especially the kinds that involve toys and electronics. | (0) comments
Sunday, June 13, 2004
memories, part iii
In growing up and moving from the stages of toddler to just "kid", I have many memories of video games. Our family had an Atari 2600 and some games... Warlords, Space Invaders, and yes... Pong. After that broke down, I thought that video games would be gone forever from the house, because both my mother and sister never were too interested in the 'ol Atari. But then, Dad bought something new... something that everyone in America would soon know by one word: Nintendo. I distinctly remember the day that my father bought the NES. Our family went together to a leading electronics store at the time called 'Video Only'. The store was filled with televisions, stereos, and record players, each blaring a wave of electronic noise. I wandered around the store like a wolf in a hen house, staring at every bright and noisy object I found with hungry eyes - it was as if the the flickering blue light and stereo sound connected me to another planet. Like any good Chinese person, my father began haggling with a store employee over the price of the NES, some accessories, and a few games. Eventually, our family left the store with a brand new NES, a light gun, and three games - Super Mario Bros (came with the NES), Hogan's Alley, and Gradius. Coming home, I remember the excitement as I watched my father set up for the NES for the first time - his careful unwrapping of the box, the piles of plastic wrap and ties... the odd smell of factory-fresh plastic. Dad carefully studied the instructions, hooking wires from one part of the NES to the TV and wires from the NES to the VCR. ?Soon wires stretched across the floor from our family TV to the boxy gray shape of the NES, crisscrossing everywhere on our brown carpet. Once finished, a push of the button on the box and the NES hummed to life... and my ears heard the music of Super Marios Bros for the first time. dum dum dum ta da dam... daaaaaaaaa... The rectangular NES control pad felt massive in my hands, but Dad seemed to hold it easily. The whole family gathered around the TV to watch and laugh as Dad's first attempt at playing Mario finished abruptly. His untimely end came comically - who would have thought that a small pixelated plumber running into a pixelated turtle was a fatal experience? After a few rounds of playing Mario Bros, we tried the light gun game, Hogan's Alley, and Dad really got into it. He especially seemed to enjoy the mock city landscape, with its targets of bad guys / civilians popping out. Dad would hold the lightgun in a classic shooting stance, right hand gripping the gun, with left hand supporting the bottom, head leaned over the sights. Dad was all about accuracy and one-shot kills. When I played, my goal was to see how many times I could squeeze the trigger, especially at point blank range close to the TV. Dad chuckled as I exhibited the classic inept firearm theory of "spray and pray" - because I shot as many civilians as I did criminals, it didn't take long for me to lose everytime I played. Gradius was something much different, though. When our family had owned an Atari, my favorite game had always been Space Invaders - there was something epic to my young mind about a single spaceship fighting alone against a horde of aliens. Gradius had the same idea (lone spaceship versus alien horde), albeit on a slightly more complex level. Gradius by far was much more difficult than the other two games, and even at a young age, my stubborn nature soon took to trying to master the game. Over the next few days, my tiny kid brain became a bit obsessed with beating Gradius. The fact that in the game your spaceship blew up with a single hit made me think, "If I'm the lone defender of the galaxy in one little spaceship, couldn't they have made it more sturdy?" Dad seemed to notice my stubbornness in trying to beat the game and during one session of playing the game together, we made a surprise discovery - both controllers were active during the game, even though only one player played at once. We found that one person could be in charge of shooting (which consisted of mashing the buttons repeatedly like a monkey on crack) and another person could just concentrate on flying the spaceship by using the direction pad (slightly more complex). I would sit for hours on end trying to beat the game, but even as I failed over and over again, Dad would be there with me, faithfully mashing the buttons as his son's gunner. Only now, I realized how incredibly monotonous it must have been - to sit there and watch his kid stare at the TV, all while repeatedly pushing a small red button as I shouted at the TV. Maybe Dad saw something more than just a kid playing a stupid video game - maybe he saw his son trying to stretch out and achieve something still slightly beyond his grasp. Or maybe Dad saw that I didn't want to quit, no matter how far I got and lost. Or maybe pushing that small red button was Dad's way of silently saying what every father has difficulty in saying to their child. (I believe in you. I want you to succeed. You will do what I myself cannot. I love you.) A couple of years ago, the original NES that my father bought finally broke down. It had enjoyed a long life, even in the years after Dad's death. I still can't beat Gradius. I don't think I ever will be able to beat the game, either. Not without pressing up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, A, B, B, A, Select, Start, at least... And not without a co-pilot. .:. (memories parts ii, i) | (0) comments
Saturday, June 12, 2004
What am I to you?
Tell me darling true To me you are the sea Vast as you can be a deeper shade of blue When your feeling low Oh to whom do you go See I'd cry if you hurt I'd give you my last shirt because I love you so Now if my sky should fall Would you even call? I've opened up my heart I never want to part I'm giving you the ball When I look in your eyes I can feel butterflies I'll love you when you`re blue But tell me darling true What am I to you? Now if my sky should fall Would you even call? I've opened up my heart I never want to part I'm giving you the ball When I look in your eyes I can feel butterflies But could you find the love in me? Would you carve me a tree? Don't fill my heart with lies I will love you when your blue But tell me darling true What am I to you? -Norah Jones "What Am To You?" .:. It's a sunny day here in Japan. Not humid, though... it's nice. Just like a Seattle summer... | (0) comments
Friday, June 11, 2004
meccha isogashii...
Very busy... busy, busy. No deep thoughts or pictures today. List of random activities the past week: -Host mom is gone, so I gotta cook for myself. -Went to Costco in the city of Amagasaki. Bought a ridiculous amount of food. -Wrote a letter to a Japanese newspaper. -Got a response from the newspaper asking if they could publish my letter. -The catch: I have to edit my letter if I want it published. Hrm. -Cut out a lot of flashcards for kids lessons. -Picked up my clothes from dry cleaners. -Began hating the humidity and rain even more. Isn't my life exciting? Riiiight. | (0) comments
Sunday, June 06, 2004
Himeji-jo
I had Friday off and it was a beautiful day... so I decided to go to the city of Himeji on a solo adventure - the main attraction being Himeji-jo (Himeji Castle). I've never visited it before, but I figured, why not? After about a one hour train ride from Kobe, and came out of the station and *bam*... there it was in the distance. 
Outside gate. 
A view of the castle from inside the outer wall. 
Doggy door? Nope... try medieval sniper spot. These were all over the walls. 
An interesting detail pointed out by a sign... the center roof tile bears a Christian cross. After the Tokugawa Shogunate banned Christianity from Japan, Christians hid their symbols... 
The path up to the main tower. 
Weapon racks for rifles and spears in the tower. 
Samurai armor. 
A view of Himeji city from the top floor. 
Main tower again. 
Since the castle is pretty old, there's lots of interesting small stories. The structure on the right is an old well. During the reign of one of lords of the castle, there was a conspiracy to murder him by one of his top aides. A lady-in-waiting overheard the plot, but before she could reveal the full details to her lover (another top aide to the castle's lord) she was falsely accused of stealing (they knew she knew), immediately executed, and her body was secretly thrown into the well. Shortly after, a haunting, wailing sound could be heard from the well... The wailing sound continued until lady's lover took revenge on her killers and defeated the conspirators in a battle inside the castle. After winning the battle, the lord of the castle and the lady's lover retrieved her body from the well. Grateful for her sacrfice, they buried her body at at a local shrine with full honors. The mysterious wailing from the well then stopped... 
Shot of the castle from the moat. 
Gar was here. For a history of Himeji... check these out. Himeji Castle is also listed as a World Heritage site and it's considered a National Treasure - parts of it were also filmed in The Last Samurai. .:. Japan News The latest talk of the town here in Japan... a 11-girl killing her 12 year old friend with a box cutter to the throat. Police are still working out the details, but supposedly the girl was an admirer of "Battle Royale" and she bore a grudge against her friend for an insult written on a website... whoa. | (0) comments
Friday, June 04, 2004
as jaded as a chinese granny's necklace
Some more Nouwen writings along my current train of thought. .:. "Your pain is deep, and it won't just go away. It is also uniquely yours, because it is linked to some of your earliest life experiences. Your call is to bring that pain home. As long as your wounded part remains foreign to your adult self, your pain will injure you as well as others. Yes, you have to incorporate your pain into your self and let it bear fruit in your heart and the hearts of others. This is what Jesus means when he asks you to take up your cross. He encourages you to recognize and embrace your unique suffering and to trust that your way to salvation lies therein. Taking up your cross means, first of all, befriending your wounds and letting them reveal to you your own truth. There is great pain and suffering in the world. But the hardest pain to bear is your own. Once you have taken up that cross, you will be able to see clearly the crosses that others have to bear, and you will be able to reveal to them their own ways to joy, peace, and freedom." -Henri J.M. Nouwen .:. I am very much aware that the life of a true believer of God and disciple of Christ is a life of suffering. To crudely put things, the very purpose of Jesus' life was to be born, to suffer, and to receive the biggest beatdown in the history of the universe. Critics have recently panned The Passion as being too brutal; but I would argue that the filmed physical violence visually communicates the dire spiritual reality. The sacrificial nature of the life of Jesus is what all Christians are called to emulate. The selfish part of me though is quick to point out two things though: 1. Jesus was 100% man and 100% God, so it's reasonable to assume he completely understood the context of his sufferings and his pain. 2. Jesus knew that his suffering and death were the means by which the entire human race would be saved, transformed, and brought closer to God. I have no such grandiose illusions about my suffering or eventual death. Perhaps if I could conceive of some purposeful reason, some logic for the events and circumstances of my life, I could bear them easier. But I don't. Old Gar, in his cynicism, sometimes wishes that my conscience wouldn't insist on living a purposeful life. But it does. Consider this analogy: Gar in the park with a big, juicy, steak sandwich. I'm really hungry, but as I'm about to eat it, I notice a homeless man staring intensely at me. I feel a twang of conscience, so instead of eating the sandwich, I give it to the homeless man. I'm still hungry, and it hurts to be hungry, but I'm consoled by the fact that I can see visibly that this hungry person in front of me is getting something to eat. The sacrifice is worth it. Now consider this change of circumstances: I'm sitting in the park with the sandwich, and I'm really, really hungry... but before I can eat any of it, Police Officer Jon Q. Crackerman pulls out a gun and says that there's no eating allowed in the park. He orders me to set my big, juicy, steak sandwich on the bench, and after I do that, he escorts me out of the park. Now, not only am I still hungry, I'm also deprived of my sandwich... plus filled with the agony that the evil Officer Crackerman has just deprived me of my sandwich. You can guess which analogy is a better fit to my perspective on my life... and it's not the first. .:. In relation to my time here in Japan, I can readily observe the dual personality phenomenon in my students - predominantly the men. We bearers of the XY chromozome seem blessed with the gift of compartmentalization. Like most Asian men, your average Japanese man has had stoicism ruthless beat into his personality, and 90% of the time, (especially in discussions related to work, family responsibilities, politics, and economy) they radiate exactly zero emotion. It's as if all the guys graduated from the Arnold Schwartzenegger Terminator School of Emotional Restraint. But get your average Japanese man to discuss a hobby or other leisure activity - cars, motorcycles, playing guitar, movies, traveling, eating - the glee just flows out. They laugh and smile like kids they once were, before the education system shredded the life out of them. I'm generalizing of course, but I'm basing my generalizing on my daily contacts with the 500+ students I see every month. It's the rare exception to see a Japanese guy who's a geyser of emotion 100% of the time, because obviously, the Asian standard of heterosexual manhood here is the law: Overtly emotional men = homo hito dayo. ("hito" means person. "homo"... that's obvious). Despite all the "emotionless-ness" of most of male students, I find that most of my favorite students are men. Maybe it's because when I teach them, I feel less like a babysitter / English ho and I feel more like I'm talking with guys I know from back home - friends, fathers of friends, uncles, teachers, old bachelors - the men who raised me in absence of a father. .:. Random: -An interesting Washington Post article on how beautiful people are more likely to be smart. Guess I ain't. -Updated my links to other blogs/journals. -Went to Himeji finally today. Pics later. -Self-portrait, link courtesy of davephonic. Salaryman-ish, eh? 
Really long hair is for fairies and metrosexuals. And there's a growing number of those here in Nippon. | (0) comments
Thursday, June 03, 2004
look in the mirror and behold your enemy
I'd like to think I don't have many enemies in life, but I'm pretty sure most of the worst ones are the ones I carry around inside. Probably the worst is my friend/nemesis, Mr. Cynicism. I'm not sure where it comes from in my life, but it's there. In the Nouwen book I'm reading now, Nouwen writes a brief chapter about how his personality exists in two parts - child Nouwen and the adult Nouwen. Of course the analogy probably doesn't apply perfectly to me, but the paradoxical nature of personality sorta allows the idea to fit. Child Gar likes toys (especially robots), candy, playing video games, and drawing cool pictures with pencils and pens. Child Gar likes meeting new people, making new friends, and helping others. Child Gar is compassion, creative, vulnerable, a dreamer, a believer, and hopeful person. Old Gar likes books, movies, music, whiskey, bourbon, and scotch. Old Gar likes to be alone, is suspicious of other people, wants to travel alone, and nurtures a several vendettas of varying intensity against people, places, and cosmic powers. Old Gar is cynicism, always cautious, extremely stubborn, stoic, a doubter, and pessimistic person. The tale of two Gars is difficult for me to trace, but I attribute it to the fact that Child Gar got his ass kicked so many times by the world, circumstances, and people he trusted that Old Gar is now almost always the dominant personality. Sometimes Child Gar gets to sneak out and play, but Old Gar constantly monitors the world around him, and when the threat threshold rises too high, Child Gar is instantly withdrawn to Old Gar. Nouwen writes that it is God's intention that people live as holistic beings and that we need to be at peace with ourselves in order for us to combine the two selves into the person that God wants us to be - not just our strengths, but our weaknesses as well. The interesting note that Nouwen makes is that God empowers people through their weaknesses, and its at our most sensitive vulnerability that we become most powerful. Humanity has to embrace its vulnerability, its neediness to find God. Therein lies the problem for much of my life. I hate being weak. I hate being powerless. I hate being vulnerable. I hate being wounded. I hate feeling betrayed by the things I invest in. I hate feeling betrayed by those I care about. All feelings of hurt, pain, and betrayal follow the line back to my father's death. The event crashed into my life with all the grace of thermonuclear MIRV raining down over a country village. The utter feeling of powerlessness made me loathe to experience the same thing again. Losing several uncles and both grandmothers in subsequent years haven't added to my understanding of the experience. Post-university life wasn't a shining star either. The calling now is that I must accept things. But to grasp circumstances with a happy smile and warm hug while repeating "Things as they are is how they were meant to be..." I can't do that yet... I'm not sure if I'll ever be strong to do it. And Child Gar still gets his ass kicked on the regular. The kid needs to get some protection. .:. Old Gar: "I'm telling you, kid... do you like being pounded like a piece of new meat in prison? What, this is like the 48745 time you got beat down?!?" Child Gar: *whimper* but... but... Old Gar: "Stop your whining. Sheesh, I shoulda given this to you years ago." (Old Gar hands Child Gar something) Child Gar: "What's this?" Old Gar: "Just read the side. And point it that way, at WORLD." Child Gar: "Desert Eagle point five-oh?" (Old Gar slaps in clip, cocks the pistol and gives it back to Child Gar) Old Gar: "That cold-hearted biznitch is gonna get it now... heh." | (0) comments
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
tigerrrrrr
When I see things like this: 
I'm reminded that life does have it's moments of fun, especially here in Japan. .:. This past weekend was actually a little bit of a downer, but I'm going to post this picture before I resume my regularly scheduled reflections about upcoming Father's Day. I can't do my usual ritual of driving alone to my father's grave to visit him in Seattle, so I'm trying to figure out what I want to do. But yeah... | (0) comments
|
in?scrip?tion (n-skrip-shun)n.
the facts.
|
