Hellwalk and Arrival to Your TV Appearance

Hellwalk and Arrival to Your TV Appearance

Arrival in Otsu, Shiga. Time to go to go to the Ministry of Education!

Arrival at last. Oh by the way its as hot as hell. Enjoy!

After the hell walk (will be posted as a blog entry later) we arrived at the Shiga Ministry of Education Building. It was old and too far from the station. My sweat was dripping down my back as we entered the building. Air conditioning! Yes I thought, but no. To my dismay there was no air conditioning. Apparently it was being renovated. Unlucky! We started to cue for the elevator. One tiny elevator made for 3 Japanese to stand in at one time. That means barely 1 foreigner and even that 1 foreigner with 1 or 2 bags no way! It was too tight was taking forever so I elected to take the stairs. The only problem was it was the same temperature as outside and the lactic acid in my arms had eroded my muscles beyond use. I pulled my bags up as hard as I could up 5 flights of stairs. When we arrived at the top they told us everyone was late and we needed to put our suits on. “Wait!”, I said. “Can I have a shower or something, I’m covered in sweat and smell like man chowder”. They said "No, hurry up and change." Unlucky.
I ran into a room full of sweaty half naked foreigners body types aplenty. We had little tiny guys, big guys, super duper skinny guys and even a girl walked into our room by accident! We asked if they could possibly turn on the air conditioning in the room since we were dying and sweaty. They put a large fan at the entrance of the room. I started to rip my clothes off. I stood in front of the fan wafting my stinky man chowder into the air for all my fellow brethren to enjoy. Finally there seemed to be some sort of cool air coming into some vents at the back of the room. It seemed the air conditioning was working, slowly but surely. I ripped my socks off, tore my boxers off and threw them on the vent. Might as well dry those suckers while I can I thought. I wasn’t sure what to think of the other foreigners, but I heard 3 guys all from England talking in their high level English accents. “Emmm are you from New South Whales? Would you mind some tea and crumpets?”. Actually sorry I can’t remember what exactly they said to one another, but something along those lines, plus I was pretty much naked so I was more concerned with that. I finally took a gander at the Brit with blue eyes and dark hair “Hey what’s up you British bastard?”. He seemed to be taken aback. “Nice to meet you my friend”, he answered. It occurred to me he might now know I’m Canadian so maybe I better explain that. “I’m Canadian”. He said “Ok”. Maybe he didn’t know what that meant. I thought everyone knew, Canada is like India to Britain, the 2nd jewel in the crown. Or maybe not, based on his expression. I thought he’d know the history of my forefathers, how our people came from England to conquer a whole new world and became the best country on the planet. He, and no one else I met seemed to know that. How could they not?
I turned to my right where a really gangly British chap named Mayur. He was this tall guy super thin and a posh accent. He said his name a few times but I wasn’t quite able to pronounce it. I kept saying Mayor and he said no Mayuuuurl. I said "You mean Mayor?". and he’d say "No". Eventually after 5 minutes he said "OK you may call me Mayor", and that’s what I called him. Mayor copied my idea of putting his boxers and socks and shirt on the vents to dry them. My first thought was, this guy is gonna be a good friend. That turned out to be true.

I don't want to post Mayur's face so his shoe will have to do for now. Can you see its gangly?

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

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel (makes no sense just like my blog)
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The Mispronouciation of a Word = Funny

Anthony and his Peni$ Butter with Shobana


Some names have been altered to protect those that like peni$ butter.

There are two versions of this story. The way I remember it originally told and the more enhanced version directly from the source. Either way both have been retold numerous times and received a few laughs.

Myles' Version
Although I don't recall the details precisely, the original story was told to me by Anthony over a few drinks. I do remember bugging Mr.Shobana numerous times about it over the next 2 years. Even after Anthony had left Japan.
Anthony goes to see Shobana at the Shiyakusho (city hall). He wants to ask for a reference letter. Anthony had ordered a large number of natural peanut butter jars from one of those overseas ordering companies with Mr.C from Texas.
He was trying to sell it to me and other people because he had so many. I thought he was joking at first. It was like he was an snake oil salesmen the way he was harassing us trying to sell it. I wasn't about to give him $12 for a glass container full of some "organic" peanut butter. I thought he must be joking. I can buy peanut paste or something similar at the dollar store. I don't care if its the best PB on earth I'm not paying $12 a jar!
Good luck selling your snake oil to someone else.

Organic Peanut butter. Too much money for my blood.

So when he goes to see Mr.Shobana, and he tells Mr.Shobana that he had bought a large number of peanut butter jars and asked if Mr.Shobana wanted to buy one.
Mr. Shobana responded "Peni$ butter? What is peni$ butter?", Anthony laughs and tells him, "Peanut butter". Mr. Shobana continues, "What is this peni$ butter, tell me what it is". Anthony thinks he is playing with him so he said "You know very well that its peanut butter and not peni$ butter'. Mr.Shobana is trying to be straight faced and says "Where does peni$ butter come from? I'd like some of this peni$ butter". Anthony is pretty sure Shobana is messing with him and says "Don't say that, you know very well its peanut butter". Mr.Shobana, "I have an interest in this peni$ butter". Anthony, "Don't say that again". Shobana, "Peni$ butter".  Anthony "I want a reference letter please and I'll give you some peanut butter".

Anthony's Version
I bought about 12 large jars of peanut butter, I think they were 12oz, each jar was quite large. It cost $120 so it was a major cash outlay on some peanut butter, but I had to do it because I knew that I wanted the natural stuff. You can't get good peanut butter in Japan. The only "peanut butter" Heiwado or Seiyu (grocery stores) have is a little tub of whipped and fluffy peanut spread, really sweet. There are those pre-packaged pb sandwiches at the combini's (7-11) though - those are pretty great. But I wanted to get some natural pb so I ordered it through this company that imports American groceries.

It arrived and I was thinking I'd better get rid of some of this peanut butter. I had packed it on the bottom shelf of my kitchen cabinet (I was lucky to have that cabinet - I begged for that from Shobana when I saw I had no furniture). I'm not going to give away all this expensive imported pb like a chump so I offered to sell a jar to a few ALTs (English Teachers), and I think Brendon and maybe Adam took me up on the offer. But that left me with a lot of peanut butter to eat on my own.

I was considering what to do with all this creamy brown when Shobana had to come over for some reason. It was that my air conditioner was whistling like a Portuguese fisherman and he finally came over to take a look at it.

Whistling kettle, almost like that.

 He didn't actually do anything but I felt like he deserved a taste of some proper peanut butter so I gave him a jar. You know, cultural exchange and all. And he got all embarrassed and started saying "what is this?" pretending he didn't know what peanut butter was. So I told him "It's peanut butter" and he says "Ah, pennis butter" in that Japanese way of pluralizing, so I said "yeah, pennis butter". So he just takes that and runs with it, like he's thinking "this Canadian wants to correct my pronunciation? I work 12 hours a day and he calls me out to his lavish apartment to look at his f*in air conditioner. I don't even have time to go to my daughter's dance recital." But he's a good natured fellow so instead he just says "Peni$ butter?" and that's how it all started. From that day on, every time I saw Shobana he would say "Thank you for the peni$ butter".


Nothing like the creamy brown!

If you found anything above amusing or even slightly funny help me out and click one of those boxes above or give me a Google +1 or something. Might come in handy in the future. If only it could make me some money. That would be even nicer!

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

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


My Youtube Channel (makes no sense just like my blog)
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Camping in Floods, that sounds fun!

Camping in Tsuruga Japan
Paradise or hell?

Camping in Flooded area, That sounds fun.

I went on a camping trip with my friend Anthony (also Canadian), Chiaki (who is a girl that speaks many languages), my girlfriend, Anthony's girlfriend and Chiaki's friend (don't know her name but she was silent and allergic to the sun, yes to the SUN!). So I heard the beaches (maybe bitches too) were super hot in Tsuruga. That sounded nice since Chiaki and Anthony's girlfriend had a car. It was a relatively close drive. The idea was to go there, and then go to some awesome campsite not too far away from beach (and the bitches). Well, it sounded great in theory (especially the bitches).
The trip there was OK, I was in Anthony's girlfriend's car. As I recall nothing that great happened in the car, except that Anthony's girlfriend was loving my jokes (which are not too funny as you probably already know based on my writings on this blog). Anthony later told me his girlfriend kept saying she thought I was hot. I was like uh OK. He said she never shuts up about it, which I guess explains why she laughed at everything I said including directions. "Turn left soon". Her response "Hahaha you are so funny." I was WTF, its a direction not a joke.
Finally when we got to the beach, it was beautiful except for the wood chips and small sticks and other crap floating in the water (I didn't see any bodies but there could been, it was cloudy).

The water was covered in debris. At least it looked nice here

Apparently there had been a major flood and it dumped this crap into the ocean. The beaches were also covered with with wood-chips, sticks etc near the tide line. The beaches would have been paradise if not for the weird things on the beach. There was a large number of Brazilians there though, sleeping in tents on the beach. They seemed a little scary. When I thought about it they probably liked us more than the Japanese on the beach. My reasoning with this is that the Japanese probably thought the Brazilians were weirder than us. On the other hand, the Brazilians and us had a lot in common being foreigners. We were both outsiders, and didn't fit into the cultural norm. I believe that them sleeping on the beach was a cultural faux pas. 

Sorry no bikini babes. I save those for me ;P

 So after playing on the beach, burying Anthony as deep as we could like he was a sandcastle and such, we decided to go to the campsite.

When we got there, it was mass chaos. The whole campsite was wet and covered in logs and weird crap. It was like the beach only worse. I forget the exact price but I think it was like 100$ a night. I remember Anthony asking me to ask for a discount, which the guy laughed at and didn't do of course.

So we start to setup our tents. Anthony had bought a tent just for this trip, I think it was a two man tent. By two man that meant two small Japanese men, not one large foreigner and his girlfriend. Chiaki had a 5 person tent for Nancy, me, her and her friend.

At night after millions of mosquito bites we went to bed. Since I had been in the ocean and my skin was all salty I decided to shower. I guess that was the wrong choice because there was no hot water, which I didn't know until I was standing under the shower head and pulled. It felt like I was taking a shower on top of Mt.Everest. It was so cold I couldn't close my fingers or rub the soap properly. To complicate things there was no privacy really as the only area the shower covered was a 4 inch area crotch height. I have no idea how girls took a shower without exposing their bosoms. Based on how cold it was, they probably sucked it up and didn't shower. Ice showers are terrible. I kept thinking at least once I get into my cozy sleeping bag I'll warm up, its not like I want to get hypothermia.
As I got in my sleeping bag in the tent I tried to think of something warm. The only bad thing was that after about 30 minutes it started to rain. Earlier we had been saying, "Its such a nice day, why would we need a rain guard". I'll tell you, from now on I'm always putting a rain flap on.

I guess Anthony's tent wasn't made for the white devil gaijin (foreigner) cause he couldn't get comfortable. He told me later his feet were actually getting crushed by the frame of the tent. I did see his feet sticking physically outside of where the tent ended. He was bending the tent by having his legs straight. He claimed he didn't sleep a wink, but that probably wasn't because of that. More likely his girlfriend wanted some McLovin'.

So my sleeping bag sucked and was too short, so at first it was a hard sleep. Then, after some rustling, I was able to enter la la land. Then suddenly, I awoke to being drenched in water. As I slept, the rain came down and drenched me. In addition the ground was wet already and we had put our tent in a really bad spot where the water would all collect on my side. It felt like a river was washing over me. I tucked myself in the fetal position and tried to sleep. But there was no hope in that cold dark place, soaking wet. I started to hallucinate I was in a dungeon. The tent was leaking from the inside and there was a drip like Chinese water torture upon my brow. So my face was covered in freezing water and the puddle in the tent was getting bigger and it wasn't just me getting wet. I tried to sleep through it, but its like peeing on an electric fence, it won't work. Finally Chiaki says "I'm soaked, lets put rain cover on tent". I said OK, and as we fumbled in the dark for the tent zipper, but I couldn't find it. I guess Chiaki had put her head in the doorway and I didn't notice so when I yanked the zipper really hard her hair got stuck. I didn't realize I did it, but her head was sideways and she seemed to be moaning. Since she didn't say anything I kept yanking the zipper back and forth and it seemed to be stuck on something. After 2 minutes or so she told me her hair was stuck in the zipper and asked if I could stop moving the zipper up and down. It was tearing her hair out. I started laughing cause it was so ridiculous. At that point everyone else in the tent was woken up by my laughing. Then for the first time I noticed clumps of her hair in my wrinkly and wet hands. I tried to pull her hair from the zipper and the tent caved in! It was terrible! The whole roof fell down. Not only was her hair stuck in the zipper but I couldn't get it out. Finally I grabbed the roots of her hair and I said "Listen, I'm going to try to save a bit of your hair my holding it at the roots and ripping the hell out of the zipper. This may hurt a little." Thinking back I should have told her "Going to hurt a lot, like a real son of a bitch".

Finally her hair came loose, but I lost a bit more in the zipper, possible pieces of her scalp-line too. I didn't notice till the next day but there was a patch of hair missing where I had torn the roots from her skull. If you are reading this, I still feel sorry about that. 

We stepped out of the tent and it was raining hard and freezing cold. 

We re-erected the tent and went to bed soaked. One of the worst nights of my life.

I guess the only person's worse was Chiaki, aside from the pain, she didn't even have enough hair to keep her warm anymore. Damn!

That's what I wanted to do after the camping experience. No sleep = total suck

If you found anything above amusing or even slightly funny help me out and click one of those boxes above or give me a Google +1 or something. Might come in handy in the future. If only it could make me some money. That would be even nicer!

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

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


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

School Introduction. Wecome to the hood!

Welcome to your School


Oh and by the way you may be murdered.  
Wonderful I thought, I've come to the right place.
 

Next after meeting Onizuka sensei (read previous post to understand) was our school introduction. We all had different schools scattered throughout the city.
We were driven by Onizuka sensei to our school. It was located at the base of Shiga’s most famous mountain Mt.Fuji. Actually, it wasn’t Mt.Fuji, but it sure looked like it. It was called Mt.Ibuki. The school didn’t really look like much, a massive field for baseball, soccer and soft tennis. I noticed the field was made of sand. I was wondering where the grass was, I was thinking maybe its summer so its out of season or something. The school seemed kind of old and a typical looking school, white colour with lots of windows.

Not Mt.Fuji but looks like it. Kind of?

When we entered we used some crap jelly plastic sandals (which my foot didn’t even stick half way in) and walked into the staffroom. I guess I expected people to jump at us and be like "Hey welcome to your new home!", but there were barely any teachers in the staff room. We did some half ass-ed introductions then went to see the Principal. Based on the pictures I had received before arriving, I took it that the Principal and vice principal were very strict.Their pictures had shown two stiff faced, non smiling, suit clad men. Even though they say "Don't judge a book by its cover", I was judge, jury and executed based on the pictures.

Being sent to the Principal's Office! Uh oh!

We entered the Principal’s office and were greeted with a smile. My Japanese was rusty and I was really nervous. I knew that its important to make first impressions and I wasn’t sure where to start. The Principal made some small talk in Japanese about where we were from and about our lives. He then asked how we would teach English at the school. WOW! Hard question to start off, that I hadn’t thought about that at all. I figured it would come to me as I started.
The Principal then changed the topic to the history of the school. Although I didn’t understand every word, I did recognize one that stuck out “dowa mondai”. Being an Asian Studies Major (Its nothing to brag about. You end up teaching English in the hood!) I had studied it in University. It occurred to me it was kind of strange I was at this school, since I was sure 99% of the foreigner’s in Japan would have no idea what that meant.
Was it destiny I thought? I saw my new co worker did not understand what that meant and the Principal explained a bit about the word, that it was a people who were segregated in Japan, similar to outcasts (untouchables) in India. I wondered if this was why the school was so far from town and seemed to be the furthest except for one Elementary school. Hell it was at the base of Mt.Fuji (not Fuji, its a just a bad joke) so you know its cold.
I told the Principal that I had studied it. No comment from him. Maybe I was being cocky by telling him I already knew about it. He made what I thought was a joke. “I saw on your interview details that you do Judo”. Then he looked at my co worker, “And that you did Wrestling”. I smiled. I wasn’t sure how cocky I should be about it. I was never that great at Judo but yes I did consider it an important part of my life for a while. I answered that I had done it. He smiled, “You might need it”. I laughed. 
Little did I know it wasn't a joke. Crap!
Had I known what my next 3 years were going to be like, I should have asked for a baton, or possibly a taser. I was about to be introduced to extreme level 12 (or whatever level is bad) riot control. It was like I was in the WWF (not World Wrestling Federation) but World Wildlife Fund and people wanted to take me down. Or is that the World Bank? Whatever, same thing isn’t it?
Both result in pain and riots.
After our little chat in Japanese with the Principal we headed to the staff room. 

Shared desk in the middle of the room isolated.

My co worker an American, who looked like a Chinese guy and I, let’s call him “Lee”, cause that is a stereotypical name and I were shown  our desks. His name isn't "Lee" but to hide his identity from stalkers I'm going call him Lee. Its also Lee, cause Lee can be a Korean name. This rant is going to get longer. He was ethnically half Japanese half Chinese American, but most of his family grew up in Korea so to further complicate things he was also culturally part Korean.
So he looked Chinese, spoke some Japanese and Korean but was American. Confusing!
OK. Now back to the story. I had heard in a Japanese culture class the closer you are to the Vice Principal the more important you are. We were dead center of the room. Each grade 6,7,8 had 2 rows of desks facing each other for each years teachers.
Because my co worker and I had no definite year we were outsiders (which we already were). I looked around us. I stood out like a sore thumb x 2! We were placed at the end of the computer row. Maybe they were trying to separate those that were different and possibly diseased. That’s a good idea. Perhaps I should suggest masks as well. Or get a cage and keep the monkeys inside it. 
Haha, funny? A little, at least for me.
I’m not sure what they feed the kids in Japan now, because she was the size of an elephant only built like a tank, aka large and in charge. Her hair was kind of a orange yellow that looks like a wig after too many bad hair dye jobs. Her face had makeup (the first thing thought that occurred to me was, whoa at 14 years old!). Her muscles were bigger than mine. She walked into the staffroom yelling “Hey Teachers I’m bored, give me some money”. I was like, who is this monkey and who let her out of her cage? She started to yell something I couldn’t understand, must be some dialect words I thought. Then she saw me. She smiled and walked up to me. “Hi foreigner”. Umm hi to you too."You from America?". "No", I answered. She looked at me. "You are hairy". "Thanks." I answered. "Do you have any presents for me?." I was thinking first she insults me then she expects a present? What the deuce man? I went through my bag of stuff. I had brought lots of pennies from Canada. I thought they would be great gifts. 
1) They are shinny! Everyone likes shinny.
2) They are real money and best of all, DIRT CHEAP! 

She had no idea they were worth nothing mwahahah! The first question she asks me “How much is this worth in Japanese yen?”. Crap! I smiled, "Oh, ah, emm, I’m not sure how to convert it with the exchange rate and all”. I hoped she wasn’t smart enough to look it up online.

Since she never asked me about it again I can assume she was about as smart as she looked.

I should have just given her a banana. I doubt she would have even peeled it.

If you found anything above amusing or even slightly funny help me out and click one of those boxes above or give me a Google +1 or something. Might come in handy in the future. If only it could make me some money. That would be even nicer!

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

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


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

  

Arrival to Nagahama as part of Jet Programme!

Arrival to Nagahama, Shiga Prefecture Japan.
Yeah!

Nagahama dark green on the lake.

When we first arrived in our new city I was quite excited. Despite being a new environment and not knowing anyone well, I felt like it was a party. Well the party hit reality when I got to my new apartment. It was barren as the dessert and it smelled like paint. There was a tatami room(Japanese reed mats), a normal western style living room, a kitchen, and a tiny shower/bath. The shower/ bath seemed like a plastic box with a small sink beside it. The toilet was tiny in a room with a metal door with grates you could see through. Strangely it opened up to the kitchen. I thought it seemed like a weird place for a bathroom. Enjoy your food with some wonderful bathroom smells, mmm tasty!
There was also one large spare room as well with what looked like wooden floors. Lastly, there was a fridge in the kitchen with nothing inside. At least it was clean.
The smell of freshly painted walls was a little overwhelming at first. I imagine if you take a balloon of nail polish remover and stuck your head in it, that’s what it smelled like. On top of that the heat, oh the heat! If you could imagine the fires of hell that will partially explain to you what the heat of Japan is like. It penetrates your entire soul. Its so humid that when you come out of a shower and feel fresh as a daisy, you are immediately covered again in a sticky sweat. So imagine this heat and you think the only way to escape it is to hide in your apartment. The only problem is the smell of the paint mixed with the heat from hell is killing you. The heat makes the smell of the paint 10 times stronger. I was probably partially high during that first week now that I think of it.
Because I’m a social cat, I asked the other newbies from the building if they wanted to come over for a drink. I didn’t realize it at the time but none of us were drinkers. It seems funny now that I told everyone to drink. If I knew no one was a drinker I probably could have said let’s have a P and P party, pop and pizza. Although we’d have to replace pizza with something else, as Japanese pizzas usually consist of a 1mm crust covered with tomato sauce with corn on it.
We all sat down at my place in the living room inhaling paint fumes. That may have been what helped make it so much fun. Because I didn’t have any furniture most of us leaned on the walls(probably covering our clothes with paint), and a few in the center of the room. One guy let’s call him Mr.C was from Texas. His glasses were kind of coke bottle glasses. If you don’t know what they are Google it. They are basically thick glasses and look like they are made for comic effect. We found out Mr.C’s father was an optometrist. When one of the guys found that out he kept saying to me in private “If his father is an optometrist why would he make him wear those glasses? Has he ever heard of Lenscrafters?’.
After mentioning to everyone to be careful and not spill anything since this was my new apartment the worst happened. Mr.C split his drink all over my new floor. It may have been his glasses were too thick and he couldn’t see the floor, but that’s up to debate.
The floors themselves were quite odd. The looked like hard wood but when you walked on them they were not. In fact on top of whatever substance it was it seemed to be a layer of plastic film. Looking back on it now I think it kind of a linoleum that was coloured to look like hard wood. The weird thing though was the film on top of it. I’ve never seen that in any other country I’ve traveled to. When you walked on it, especially with sweaty feet, the plastic would tear itself off from the hardwood looking layer. I would often be pulling off chunks of plastic film from my feet. It was particularly hard to pull off when your feet were sweaty in summer and every step you take you feel like a plastic layer, or the skin on the bottom of your feet is about to peel off.
Mr.C’s spilling of alcohol and pop on the floor seemed to be like a corrosive acid to the plastic film and hardwood floor looking layer. I worried that the first day of this place and I’d already be dinged for damage deposit! Snap!

Our apartment "High Life". I'm not sure that was a good description.

Our apartments a collection of of 18 units was called “High Life Morii”. And yes, the side of our building actually had the words written in large letters “High Life Morii”. I can’t say there was anything high about it other than the smell of the paint in my unit. As for the Morii this referred to the older man Mr. Morii that spoke no English who owned it. Ironically for a person who owns 18 units he rented out 12 of them to foreigners. I often wondered if the city somehow tricked him into doing that. I often saw him dealing with problems that the foreigners were causing him. More on that later.
When we finally managed to dwell outside our foreigner kingdom castle (which had 2 sides covering it by rice fields) we ventured into the city to find a supermarket. We found a large supermarket and department store nearby called Heiwado which Chinese characters meant “The Peace Store”. Its symbol being 2 white doves. I wasn’t sure if I was about to walk into a place selling peace pipes or the Salvation army, but it turns out it was just an innocent name.
I had some stupid idea that when I moved to Japan I would start cooking amazing Japanese foods. Well first of all I don’t cook. Other than toast or cereal I don’t know how to cook a thing to save my life. As we entered Heiwado I looked at the fresh seafood section. For some reason my brain kept saying “Get something unique to Japan”. Well, not entirely unique to Japan but definitely cheap and something I wouldn’t ever cook at home, I saw octopus. How do you cook octopus? I had no idea, but I figured I’m in Japan I’ll have the motivation to find out. I picked up the biggest fattest tentacle I could find and threw it in my basket. Mission accomplished I thought.
I put that tentacle into my brand new fridge and left it there for over a month. I don’t know if there was an expiry date on it, but either way I didn’t care, I figured at some point I’d use it. After that month I realized there was a strong rotten fishy smell coming from the fridge. I wasn’t sure what to do so I didn’t investigate, instead I’d get in and out of the fridge as fast as possible. It was only when my girlfriend came from Canada that something changed. When she first entered the apartment she made a comment about a fishy smell. I was like “Oh hmm I don’t know what it is”. When she opened the fridge a few hours later she did a CSI investigation and realized that it was the month old tentacle. She threw it out, entirely scrubbed the fridge down and then put a special Japanese fridge deodorizer(similar to baking power) into the fridge. I would end up hearing complaints about the tentacle for another 3 years. She claims it still smelt after that time. I apologize to any future tenants of that apartment who may be using that fridge. 

If you found anything above amusing or even slightly funny help me out and click one of those boxes above or give me a Google +1 or something. Might come in handy in the future. If only it could make me some money. That would be even nicer!

My Youtube Channel, wearing red tights and jumping around as Deadpool (but I say Dadpool to avoid copyright. Smarter than I look!)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUXxArlapy0

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

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


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

  

English Teachers Introduction Mr.Awesome

Prior to arriving in Japan I thought I should watch something in Japanese to refresh my Japanese and learn a few things about Japan. This came in the form of G.T.O. Don’t get this confused with Grand Theft Auto (G.T.A). No, the Japanese TV show I am referring to is Great Teacher Onizuka. It is about a teacher who is a low level gang member who likes to look up girls skirts, smoke, swear and get in all sorts of trouble. Sounds like a good life that any guy would want. The first Chinese character in his name means devil or demon.

First character is demon or devil.

As we entered the room to be introduced formally to the teachers and apparently to the people of Shiga prefecture as this was being taped for TV, I was starting to laugh. Not out of fear of being watched by so many people or as I was being paraded like a money for people to throw peanuts at, but because I swore I was looking at Onizuka himself. All the Japanese teachers followed the same dress-code except one. The men wore their suits with ties all tied the same way, formal black shoes, and suit jackets. Their suite jackets all done up tightly despite the heat and the women wearing their skirts and typical black or grey dress-clothes not revealing any skin (damn!). Actually now that I think of it, it could have been a scene of THE MATRIX with Mr.Smith. There was one person though sitting in the middle of the crowd, who I thought looked like Onizuka. He was darker skinned, had sunglasses on (yes inside), wore a sleeveless shirt, gym shorts and had leather sandals beside his chair (which he wasn’t even wearing. He had bare feet!). The theme song started running in my head. I may have been humming it out loud whoops.
I was thinking it would be funny for whoever got Onizuka, after all he seemed to not want to fit in at all, he was like the opposite of the cultural norm. Japan has a saying “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down”. I was like, whoa this guy is a adamantium nail (the indestructible metal Wolverine's claws are made of out of in case you didn't know).
All of us monkeys sat down on our chairs as we faced our soon to be teachers, as well as city officials, education ministry officials and by way of filming, the people of Shiga. I had the feeling Onizuka was looking at me. I was thinking maybe I’m the best looking among the monkeys? (Unlikely I thought). A few of the monkeys looked like GQ models (damn them and their perfect faces!). Can’t they try to set the bar a bit lower for me!
We were told to introduce ourselves and then the teacher from our school would come forward, introduce themselves as well. After the introductions were over we would go to our schools. I looked beside me. The Chinese looking guy from the train sat beside me. I swear that I saw Onizuka stare at him. I whispered “Hey is he looking at us or just my imagination?”. The Chinese guy answered “No, its not your imagination. He is looking at us.” I was like oh, so I’m not hallucinating (with all that heat and man chowder smell I wasn't sure what was a mirage).
As the line moved closer to us I could feel the sweat dripping through my pits and back of my shirt. Then came our introduction. Onizaka put his sandals on and walked right up to us. “Hey guys you are really lucky, I’m the best English teacher in all of Shiga”. Everyone started laughing. He was like I’m serious, I’m cool.

The car he owned. When his hair was black again.

I thought that was good that he understood slang and wasn’t like the other Japanese English teachers who all seemed like robots, Domo Arigato Mr.Roboto!

Maybe I was lucky to have someone that fit outside the box I thought.

Little did I know the adventures were just about to begin.

Until next time!

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My Youtube Channel, wearing red tights and jumping around as Deadpool (but I say Dadpool to avoid copyright. Smarter than I look!)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUXxArlapy0

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

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


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

Sand and Sports Don't Mix, Grass please

Sand and Sports Don't Mix

Can we get a little grass here?

You know the green soft stuff.

As we all know, no one on this earth wants to work more than they have to, especially if they are not paid for it. Its my right to leave as soon as my shift ends. I’m getting the hell out of dodge. I’m not Japanese and sorry even if you think, oh this barbarian should be able to understand everyone else is staying till late that he should to, I have no interest in doing so. Therefore I won’t.I have a life outside of work, and even if I don’t want to engage in something social with other people, TV or surfing the net will be fine by me.

Looking back at school. I'm out of here!

As soon as the clock hit 3PM I was always like, “Peace yo, I’m out of here”, only I said it in Japanese. I knew one foreigner that would go to the bathroom a few minutes before 3PM, run to his car and start it up. He was literally off property at 3PM and no one knew (maybe).
In my case as soon as I was off. However, a few times the teachers would ask if I’d like to watch any sports after school. Not really I thought, “Um sure for a bit”, I answered. I hoped a little but actually meant "not really, I'm just trying to be nice so that when you aren't looking I'm out the door sucker!
I sometimes watched soccer but I found it more interesting to play than watch. I had two main issues with playing soccer though. Either 1, the weather was extremely hot, as in hot like hell or so cold I felt like I was living in Siberia. Yes, and this coming from a Canadian - who could believe it? Issue number two was due to the field. I felt like I was putting my skin through a cheese grater. I would end up grating skin of my knees, shins, hands, wrists, arms, and elbows. This was due to the field being made out of sand instead of grass.

Play and cheese grate my skin or watch? Hmm..

During winter it would freeze and feel like cement when you fell on it. During the summer it would get in your clothes and shoes, and keep rubbing skin off even after you were off the field. The best part was when it would burn in your cut. You try to rub it out and it is like sandpaper rubbing your skin raw.

My last problem with the field was the sand vision, or should I say lack of vision. It was cutting my eyes. The students and teachers assured me it was an evil sand, that was brought to them by the evil Chinese. I often asked them, “Ahem, what do you mean by  that?”.

They would often look at me like I was someone who couldn’t comprehend even the most basic things.

“The Chinese send it here all the time, their purpose is to be terrible to us”.

Interesting I would think. I can understand that students are kids and therefore, may come up with tales of fantastical worlds, where little hobbits run around with a ring to rule them all, and little boys with scars on their heads use magic but Chinese throwing sand at them? Seems a bit far fetched. After hearing it from 5 teachers, I decided either it was true, or someone was brainwashing them.
I still didn’t really understand what the rant meant, so I looked it up online and read that the sands from the Gobi desert were lifted by winds and hit Korea and Japan. The desert is also expanding at an incredible rate and literally covers Chinese cities with sand. The internet doesn’t say anything about China using spoons, or possibly chopsticks lifting up grains of sand in the air and flinging them toward Japan. I was under the impression they thought the Chinese were doing it on purpose to them. I think that part was a bit of a stretch, but then again who am I to say? I am no scientist.
Another reason I would sometimes stay later was that I thought by playing sports with the kids I would get to have fun with them too. The only thing is although I’m not overly competitive at the same time I don’t hold back even when playing with children. If I have to body-check a few 15-year-olds to make our team win I don’t have any moral dilemma with that. Is that so wrong?
After a few body checks I think the kids knew I meant business. They probably suspected I would take it easy on them. They were in for a real awakening then. I started to play another game on the sand that a lot of kids played called soft tennis. 

Soft tennis. A Japanese made sport. No backhand?

What the hell is that you ask? Supposedly it was a game created in Japan. It is very similar to normal tennis except that the ball is a soft rubber one (to bounce on sand) and also that there is no backhand swing allowed (although I did a few backhands anyways) which threw them off their game. What better way to trick them then to do something they wouldn’t expect and not follow the rules! Take that! I win at last!

P.S. One day before a sports festival I helped the kids clean up the field. When I asked what they were doing they said picking out grass and it ruins the field. I was thinking of coming back nightly to lay grass seeds to protect myself and them from the sand. 

If you found anything above amusing or even slightly funny help me out and click one of those boxes above or give me a Google +1 or something. Might come in handy in the future. If only it could make me some money. That would be even nicer!

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

My blog about everyday life (not Japan related)
http://eyethroughtheglass.blogspot.ca/


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

Helpful links below


Links What is Soft Tennis?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soft_Tennis 

Gobi Desert Info
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gobi_Desert

Toxic Sand from China
http://www.terradaily.com/reports/Chinese_yellow_sand_hits_Japan_SKorea_officials_999.html