Broken Bones, Broken Homes

From Broken Bones, to Broken Homes

Its not that bad, I should be OK to fight.

I think the title makes it sound like some sort of abuse. I guess in some ways it was.
As I mentioned in previous posts I had a teacher at my school that weighed over 150kgs, which is over 300 pounds. He was a big boy!
He told me to come to his club in Omihachiman, so I did. He was like the marshmallow man only scarier. And I couldn't eat him (technically).

The Evil Marshmallow man. I think if I saw him I'd just eat his legs.

When I was a kid in high school my Judo teacher used to say “Unless you fight the best you can’t become the best”. Good analogy I thought, except when it almost kills you.
You would think that if someone is so much better than you, they have a lot of control and so can prevent someone else from getting hurt.
The large Judo guy I mentioned above was a bit of racist. He liked to mumble “Damn Gaijin!” a lot. He seemed to not enjoy foreigners that much. He enjoyed throwing me on the mats and telling me I was a wimp (which is true). If he thought that would make me go harder, he thought wrong. It didn't turn me into an angry frenzy to fight back. It made me become tired and less aggressive because I knew it was true. Alas, with my 125 lbs frame and zero muscle I was The WEAKEST LINK. I'd vote myself out of the tribe if I was on Survivor.
There was one massive guy at the club who was bigger than this guy, so I guesstimate his weight to be about 340 lbs. They say that in Judo, regardless of size anyone can win, if you are good enough. My issue. That’s simple. I wasn't good enough.
He asked to go with me, and I thought of the motto go against the best so I said OK. He was so big I couldn't move him. He tried to throw me and I blocked. Then he used his weight to force me into the ground but since he was using his weight he landed on me since I was resisting. Crap!
I couldn't breathe at all. Felt like someone, in this case a two ton marshmallow man, had just crushed my lungs. My diaphragm failed to inflate again. My Judo teacher who was the only big guy started yelling at me “Get up wimp! Damn gaijin! All weak”. I tried to get up but something didn't feel right. He grabbed me by the scruff of my judogi (Judo outfit) and pulled me to the side of the mat like I was a rag-doll. I rolled to my side but couldn't get up, I figured I must have torn a muscle. Slowly I got up, the big monster Judo guy, said one more round. Again he threw me the same way and landed on me. I thought he must hate me, since normally in practice you don’t land on people, especially since there was over 160 lbs weight difference. He must have known he was hurting me. Ah, the joy of racism and beatdowns.
I continued the rest of practice being thrown by various people. Everytime I got thrown I felt like my wind was getting knocked out of me (and perhaps my brain cells as well). When I got home, I decided to ice the area to heal the torn muscle. Didn't seem to help. Every time I laughed, moved or lifted, I felt sharp pain.
Three weeks of pain went by and I continued going to Judo. I figured a torn muscle should have healed by now (if I had stopped Judo maybe it would I also thought), being thrown repeatedly wasn't good for it. I thought I saw a protrusion from my skin a few times, and it felt hard. After many people suggested I go get it checked out, I finally did.
I went to the nearest hospital. I told them I had hurt my side, maybe muscle in Judo. She asked when. I said three weeks ago. And she asked “It hurts still?”. Hell yes it does.
After waiting two hours I was put in a room with two young male doctors. I wondered if they were interns. “I wish Tanaka sensei was here. He speaks English”, they kept repeating to each other.
Ummm, hello I speak Japanese, not perfect, but enough to communicate.
“Umm, Hi Doc, my rib hurts, maybe muscle”, I said. “I wish Doctor Tanaka was here, he speaks English”, they answered. Ummm is he going to repeat this forever I thought.
He felt my rib and said we need to take an X-ray. “It seem your ribs are broken and maybe your brain too”. No, that second part isn't true (at least not he couldn't tell by the X-ray about my brain). He shows me the X-ray, and tells me my rib broke in the middle. Uhh, that didn't sound good. He told me that it was split like a wishbone in half and poking out. He even drew me a picture. If only Dr.Tanaka was here could explain it to me better he said. Haha, repeating jokes, I like. I'm very simple.
“Well not much we can do. Broken ribs tend to heal themselves. You must have been in a lot of pain for three weeks. I can wrap them but it won’t really do anything after three weeks”.
I half ass thanked him and headed home (I should have told him Dr.Tanaka would have fixed it if he was there).
I decided against doing Judo where I might get thrown for a month. I did however continue to do groundwork where my friends would use their knees into my stomach and broken rib. It never seemed to heal. I guess that’s why.
After six years it still hurts. My mom told me its phantom pain, that I'm just making it up. I'm not sure for what purpose I’d make up pain. I'd rather not have it. I tried yoga-ing it out to no results.
I haven’t been doing Judo recently due to my six year old broken ribs and broken neck.
Broken neck story to come later.
I tried to go to a less contact sport like soccer but I hear a cracking sound when I run and if I try to head the ball, I feel like someone hit me on the head with a baseball bat. 
I can't win.

He must have something broken for that pain. Maybe neck and rib like me? Maybe I'll become a blogger, its safer.

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.

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

Underwear and Departure Time

This is kind of what the airport looked like. Only underwear was flying everywhere.

After three years in Japan, I realized I had acquired a lot of treasure (aka junk). I have a problem with throwing stuff out. I wouldn’t do it (and still won't). I put the bags together of all the things I wouldn't be carrying back to Canada in my suitcases, yes plural. Rubber chicken. Why do I have it and why do I need it in the future? Ten never used ice packs, why do I have so many? Ten rubber balls, what the heck? Am I five years old? Where did they even come from? A pair of women’s panties that say dollar store on them. Was that a gift to me? (from myself to myself?). Maybe I have split personalities.
I contemplating carrying some VHS tapes back, I had acquired about one hundred VHS tapes across the three years (and no not the Xrated versions). Of course, I no longer had a VHS player, but I imagined sometime in the future I could get one. Too bad VHS sucks and they are big and cumbersome. No room in my bags for it.
I gave the three large plastic bags of treasures (junk) to my Mexican-American friend, let’s call him Fernando. I knew he would stay for at least another year in Japan. Like me, he had acquired many things throughout his years and he didn't throw anything out. I knew the rubber chicken would not be going to the trash bin, instead it would continue its life cycle of uselessness.

I thought about keeping it. I'm sure I could use it somehow in the future. Or not!

As I packed my bags for home, I decided I should bring my desktop computer. The only problem was it was massive. I dismembered it (and by that I mean disassembled), and packed it in pieces.
Now for clothes. I don’t know why exactly but I had a lot of tighty whities and boxers. I guess because compared to Canada they were one of the only things that were relatively cheap. I could buy a pair at the dollar store (Daiso in Japan). I bought so many pairs I thought they would last years to come or more likely based on their quality, rip in half very soon.
I sent eight boxes full of stuff back to Canada by boat (the cheapest way possible). I still had over packed, and then even though I had read the weight restriction was 30 pounds, my wife had seen a note saying an additional $20 for $20 more pounds. Seemed so cheap so I made all my luggage weigh 50 pounds. Maybe I could put a small child in my bags too to pay for my ticket!
When we got to the airport to check in, there was a large line. To top it off, we didn't arrive early enough and I was super stressed. When we got to the front of the line the Japanese-American service clerk weighed my bag. “This bag is 50 pounds! The max is 25 pounds”. I was like WTF. I informed him the website said an additional $20 for 20 pounds. “Are you kidding me?”, he answered. I wasn't sure that was polite to a seven star General (I just made that up!). He said there was no way it was possible and he couldn't even calculate how much it would cost to go over the 25 pound limit in his head in costs. I was like oh shi$. He told us we better repack our bags. I started throwing my stuff everywhere. Since underwear weighed the least I decided to remove some of the heavier computer parts (motherboard, hard drive). I started throwing my underwear everywhere, all over the desk, on the floor, on peoples feet behind me. I could hear the older Japanese ladies laughing in line.
I was laughing too, I couldn't remember if I had washed any of those underwear! The joke was on them.
After fifteen minutes our Mission Impossible became Mission Possible. Maybe I'll get a new eight star General ranking? We ran like hell to the postal outlet at the airport. We were lucky they even had one there. I threw computer parts, my LCD monitor, my Playstation 2 etc into the box. I actually had to buy the boxes there, so I bought the cheapest ones (surprise). I hoped everything would be OK when it arrived in Canada delayed a few weeks after I would arrive.
When I rebuilt the computer at home, sparks shot out of the motherboard. Seems some fuses blew and parts of the motherboard has cracked in transit.
The only good news is it still seemed to function, although it smelled like an electrical fire for a few months. My nose lost some smell after being near it for long enough.
Oh and as for the underwear, I decided to play it safe and wash all of them for once.

I took the high road and washed all of them. They were fine I'm sure. Kind of like this one. Looks clean right? Just turn it inside out my friend Ken always tells me.

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.

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

Food Poisoning by Special Students

Food Poisoning by Special Students 

Anko and Unko
Similar words very different meanings.

I used to love my special needs students. At first, the main English teacher would go to class himself. Then, he introduced us and said we could team teach with him. That seemed good. At that time there were three special need students. They seemed to lack emotion sometimes but on the opposite end of the scale were very extreme other days. Very angry or upset. And I wasn't sure what their level of communication was in general, let alone their English when I first went to the classes.
Instead of team teaching it became alone teaching, as in just me. It would have been OK if there was someone there to discipline them, but I'm a little soft and I didn't want to upset them (in their fragile state).
One girl liked to scratch her nails on the board. I asked her to stop in English. Other-times while teaching them something, she would repeat “Moshi moshi” five thousand times. It means “Hello” on the telephone, but can also be used to get someone's attention. She was relentless with it, so I started to go insane (the joke was on them, I already had!).
Another mistake I made with her was to give her my telephone number. She said she wanted to text me. I was under the impression she meant once in a while,  not every ten minutes. When I didn't respond she would send hate texts about how I was ignoring her and being rude. I informed her I was asleep as it was night-time and she shouldn't be using her phone so late.
Eventually I gave up and told her teacher I needed her to delete my number and inform her not to scratch her nails on the board as I was living in a horror film being around her (I think the RING). 
That was true, it was a horror film life.
One boy, I wasn't too sure what his situation was. He hung out with the bad kids and swore a lot in Japanese. I think he liked me but it was hard to tell (he didn't hit me or scratch his nails, so bonus there). One time during my farewell party with all of them, the special needs teacher mentioned they had made lunch for me. Lucky me I thought!
I was excited, until I saw the bad kid pick his nose, then scratch his bum and put his hands back into the rice. I was a bit horrified. I contemplated how I could come up with an excuse to get out, since I was already there.
He kept repeating he had put “unko” into the rice balls. If you didn’t know unko means excrement or crap in English. I hoped that it was just a special needs joke, or he was mispronouncing.
It sounds a lot like “anko” which is sweet bean and fairly common in rice balls.

Well it might look like "unko" aka crap, but this one is "anko" red bean.
The taste shouldn't be similar, at least in theory.

I really hoped he had not put “unko” into the rice balls. As I went to put my first bite into the balls he had an evil grin on his face, “Enjoy the “unko”!”, he said. It seemed he had added a lot salt and seaweed as well, which is weird if its sweet bean. I'm no cook like Jamie Oliver, but those don't go together. If it was indeed crap then he had covered up the flavour quite well with the salt and seaweed. No matter what it was inside I had a feeling I was about to get a sore stomach and severe diarrhea. What else is new!
I thanked them for the lunch (and was thinking where can I throw up?). They asked if I wanted to take any home. I said I was full and that I would be out at farewell parties so would have no chance to eat it.
As I left, I thought I overheard the bad boy say “Oh I gave him the wrong one, who ate the unko one?”. I hoped it was himself that ate it!

I'll try cleaning it after I die. My corporation will deal with my death.

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.

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