Yoga on The Sun, Sorta

As we arrived in Japan the weather hit me like a session of hot yoga. The heat at 40 C (I don’t know that in Fahrenheit for our American friends but its about as hot as the sun). Like yoga you are sweating in the heat and your body is in weird positions. In Japan, you fit yourself into packed trains, buses, and shove your bags into any crevices available. And sweat like butter melting in a frying pan.

After the initial arrival at the airport, we all crammed into a bus like sardines in a can (does anyone enjoy my numerous similes? Cause I do). That's a big word look it up.

"Nothing to see here, we can put a few more on. Find a spot folks."

If their intention was to wow and woo us with their incredible hotel & amazing views, they did a stellar job. I was bedazzled (like Brendan Frazier in the movie Bedazzled). The only thing that would have been nicer would be air conditioning between the bus and the hotel so I didn't keep sweating.

Who knew the devil looked this good. Hot! Like yoga ;-)

I knew there were many personalities in the types of gaijin (foreigner) about to embark to the land of the rising sun (that’s supposed to be poetic and it means Japan if you didn't know). I just didn't know what kind of personalities I would run into.

When I came from Canada I had been lucky enough that I had some friends from my University going to Japan on the same program. I guess I hit oil cause I was double lucky. My initials matched one of my friends. The seats were picked according to alphabetical order. So I got to sit with him.

There is a reason I'm telling you this, don’t worry, just keep rolling with it.

Once at the hotel, it happened the rooms were also chosen by country and alphabetical order, so again my friend was in my room. I thought it was going to be awesome until I realized there were 2 beds and a roll-away bed (cot), but only two of us. “Hells no!” I'm not taking the roll-away. It will damage my spine and hip alignment (although in all fairness I had not yet cracked my ribs and spine so I may have been OK. Refer to other blogposts to understand). 
I jumped in one bed and threw all my stuff on it with my shoes on (ha!), I'm a jerk as you know. They didn't have dog poo on them (this time mwahahahaa evil laugh).

One minute later a gigantic dude walked into the room, sweating worse than me. By gigantic I mean, like an Ogre from Lord of the Rings. The body odour was the worst I've ever experienced (rather like an Ogre’s actually). I considered throwing up into my hands then smelling it, in hopes it might smell better. Purify his putrid stench (more poetry terms).

We received a large package of training events. It said something along the lines of mandatory attendance please join eight out of ten events.

I didn't think it should be trouble for me as I had lived in Japan before. As for the other people, they were like a fish out of a pond (I seriously love these similes, I may write a book about them).

My friend in my room informed me he would probably sleep due to jet-lag and lots of drinking on the plane so he was skipping the events (he said ideally for the whole three days).

After one day of easy “you will have the worst culture shock ever course” I went to the free lunch. I love free everything as you know. Its the bane of my existence. I headed to lunch, but none of my friends were around (sleeping or drinking perhaps) and I didn't have anyone to sit with. I was the uncool kid wanting to sit with the cool kids. I saw one table with people full of smiles (Canadians maybe!?). I headed to the table. I couldn't guess where they were from by looking, but as soon as the Southern drawl (accent) from Texas came out, I knew where two of them were from.

Our main course came out which happened to be Japanese curry and rice. If you don’t know what it is, it’s basically Indian curry, but not strong and no spicy flavour to it.

“I don’t wanna be eating this mud. I thought those Japanese eat sushi”, she said. Oh lord, she is in for a surprise I snickered. 
‘I expected the Samurai’s to greet us and all ya’ll”, she said. She said that with a straight face I might add.

I almost spat my curry out, is this girl for real? It was delicious and I didn't want to waste it. Who says that? I was grabbing at the curry sauce splashing out my of cheeks and pushing it back into my mouth.
She sounded a bit riceist to me (that's a lame joke, sorry. Curry and rice so go with it).

On top of that I had never heard anyone used both all and ya’ll in combination. Sounded abnormal. I know I was about to be an English teacher and my English sucks, but look at her.

I shut my mouth and ate my curry while enjoying the show. Everyone introduced themselves and one of the “all ya’ll” Texas girls stated she had never been out of Texas and this was her first visit internationally. Someone piped up even Canada? (A Canadian probably) and she stated no not even there.

I didn't see her again although I heard through the grapevine later (through another Texan) that she made it for two months then went back to Texas. Ouch!

I should have known, if she expects Samurai and only sushi 24/7 she came to the wrong place.

As for my friend, he didn't attend any courses and he asked me to write down his name on some of the attendance sheets so it appeared he was there. Smart guy.

He started to go out drinking at nights and he ended up getting stuck with the roll-away. I pitied his hips and spine alignment.

I thought it was funny, so the last night when he came back from drinking I took what I thought were empty beer bottles and surround him with them while he was sleeping. It was hilarious and I took pictures.

But it turns out a few of them had beer in them though, so he got covered in beer and so did his bed.

He probably thought he peed himself and I didn't tell him the truth.

Ha! I enjoyed thoroughly.

As a bonus his beer pee smell counter attacked the sweaty ogre's smell.

If you see this dude in your room, hold your breath. Or get someone to pee on their bed to mask the flavour and scent.



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

Avoid getting molested

Avoid Getting Molested.

It ain't that fun (Well...usually).

Oh groundskeeper Willy how can you not love him?

After two years at my school I had the teachers personalities pinned. I knew who the party animal was, who the hardcore nerd was and everything inbetween. When drinking in Japan people really change and they let their ambitions fly (or maybe I should say drop. They dropped them like a hot potato). Most people don’t seem to regret anything they did the next day. I usually regretted everything I did, which was always drinking too much and saying stupid things (saying stupid things is everyday of my life though). And by drink too much I meant two beers or girly fizzy drinks.

I went home to Canada for a short trip after two years in the summer. When I came back I was at the school one day by myself with the vice principal. It was a little weird, since he didn’t seem to like foreigners and usually avoided me like I was infected with the black plague (although I might be. I always forget to have it checked).

I showed up to work at 8:30AM sharp as always. As you know in summer the kids don’t come to school and that day apparently neither did anyone else. Just me and the groundskeeper. I’d like to call him Willy. Groundskeeper Willy, but he was Japanese so let’s call him Tanaka. Groundskeeper Tanaka and I were keeping it real in the office, sitting around drinking tea (because that’s what people do in Japan). The vice principal who must have been at work but somewhere else in the building came into the office. He walked up to me “He betrayed us didn’t he?”. I had no clue what he was talking about. Although he never made sense even to the other teachers I was told. I had heard repeat stories about his mumbling and nonsensical statements. I wondered if this was one of them.

The guy never talks to me after two years and then says that and doesn’t explain himself. So I ran after him, "Sorry I don’t understand the topic". He kept mumbling about how he did it, he betrayed us.

I’m like great another student issue, those mother truckers.
 

Mother Truckers, I've had enough of those kids and their issues.

Then he looked at me with a stunned look. "Didn’t you read the newspaper?". Read the newspaper? Mother trucker I live in a foreign country and you write your newspapers in a combo of three alphabets, (Chinese characters) Kanji, Hiragana (for Japanese words) and Katakana (for foreign words). I responded politely with a smile, “No sir, I do not read the humble newspaper”. I threw the word humble in to make it more polite, although I'd never heard a Japanese say it that way, so perhaps it was also nonsensical. Moreover, the actual reason was because even if I could read I wouldn’t pay the cost for one (don't you know how cheap I am after two years with me?).

He grabbed a newspaper from beside the tea pot like with a determination like it was the end of the world. I was more interested in the tea and hoped he’d pour me some while he was up there. I guess I was a foreigner though, so probably below him to serve me. Fine I thought once he turns his back I’m pouring my own. And maybe refill his while I'm at it, where is his damn (humble) cup!

He handed me the paper and pointed out an article about molestation (yes, sadly I know the word in Japanese "Chikan"). Not a topic I knew anything about besides the word (no jokes about that, not going there).

"A vice principal hereby not being named which was formally at middle school in Nagahama city in Shiga prefecture, molested a girl and was placed under probation promising he will return to face charges. At the scene of the fire he saw a women run out from a fire, since she was suffering from smoke inhalation he took advantage of her and molested her chest using his elbows."
Oh, score I guess I can read the newspapers, I didn't know that.

But why am I reading this story? Its not one with a happy ending.

I didn’t understand the elbow part either, and asked him what it meant. What the heck is molesting with an elbow? I looked at groundskeeper Willy (I mean Tanaka) for support. He drank his tea in silence (I think pretending not to see me staring at him).

The vice principal explained a former teacher from our school was the culprit. I said oh. Who was it I asked. He told me the name. I freaked out a little (but no I didn't pee my pants if that's what you heard. THIS TIME!).

I had been with him quite a few times without others around. Especially dark areas with little or no light. He also asked me out for tea once (cause that's what people do in Japan) in a total bromance kind of way (we are both straight. I THINK). 
I wondered if he was trying to seduce me (he was doing a good job starting with tea).

I looked at the vice principal with a serious look. He didn’t molest me, if that’s why your telling me this, I informed him. He gave me a strange look of puzzlement. He explained that many parents also deduced (solved) who it was. They were worried about their kids having been molested. I said oh, OK. I thought you were worried about me.

He answered not so much and walked away. That's a joke, he just walked away, but I'm sure he didn't care, if he did he would have poured me some tea.

Groundskeeper WIlly (Tanaka) and him left the office, the office phone rang. 

No one to pick it up. Crap!

I wasn’t sure what to do. I yelled down the hallways, “Uhhhh the phone is ringing! Hello? Anyone alive....?”. No answer.

Molester must have got them.

I decided to answer the phone. “Hello this is blah blah middle school and you are speaking to a foreigner how can I help you today?”. The person must have misheard who it was because they started blabbing to me in intelligible local dialect. My listening skills have never been as good as my speaking (the same as my English. Its called "selective listening", I don’t care what anyone has to say. I just want to talk only my wife says).

So I answered with the following....

"I’m sorry to inform you that the honorific chair of Mr.Molester’s name (unsure if that's who she is even asking for) is unoccupied at the moment. His whereabouts unknown (Perhaps hiding from the police).

Therefore please call back when there are Japanese people in the office (or anyone that cares what you have to say cause I don't)."

The vice principal came back shortly after.

“Oh um there was a phone call”, I said.

“Who was it?”, he asked.

I thought about this and tried to think of something funny to say.
Instead something stupid came out.

“The molester”, I answered.

“He betrayed us”, he said sternly.

“Ya thanks, I got that the first time”, I answered. 

Like a broken record this guy.

I decided not to tell him it wasn't the molester, I did laugh though.

I repeat DO NOT MOLEST THE ALLIGATORS!

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