Raining on my martyrdom

I had a class cancelled yesterday which was added to today's schedule according to the sheet given out yesterday afternoon. That would have made my total number of classes today a round five, giving me only one free period. However, for whatever reason (seriously, though, wtf) the schedule was changed again by this morning, so that the class from yesterday was moved into a period I already had a class, and since I don't have a time turner, I couldn't be in both places at once. I was all ready to cry about how tough it was to be me today, but since I was back to the regular Tuesday's four classes, added to that the fact they were only 40 minutes, not 50 as usual, left me little to bemoan. Still, I had first to fourth periods, which meant I had no free time until lunch time, which was mentally exhausting, as in each class we did almost exactly the same thing.

Not looking forward to tomorrow...

My 206 class was moved to tomorrow, which means I have 5 out of 6 classes tomorrow - 1st-4th, then 5th free, then 6th. I don't remember ever having that many classes in one day before. Fortunately, tomorrow's schedule is special (big surprise) so the classes are only 40 minutes. Small mercies.

Also, after school I have what could be my last tattoo appointment (haven't decided yet). I might want to make the colour a bit darker, but if I don't I still need to fill in a few gaps that crop up as part of the process.

Silty toilet paper

OC Frustration

I mentioned before that I teach Oral Communication (OC) at Tokusho using the textbook. Now, I don't believe any high school textbook I have thus far encountered has been stellar (case in point - hamburgers and Mimes in Lingua-Land) but the textbook Tokusho uses for OC (appropriately titled "Voice") frustrates me in so many ways that I decided to write a bit about it.

There are a few things wrong with the content of the textbook itself. It uses weird or outdated expressions, some of which I had never heard before. Instead of "sci-fi", it refers to "SF movies" (that's pronounced ess-eff movies). In the "word mine" at the back of the book it uses the word "druggist" before putting "pharmacist" after it in brackets, as if pharmacist is the word used less frequently. I'd never heard the word "druggist" before, but it sounds like it should mean something between a person who advocates drug use and a drug addict . Instead of using the word "fisherman" it has simply, "fisher". My dictionary describes this use as "archaic", and indeed the only place I've heard this word used before is in the "fishers of men" bit in the Bible.

However, my main gripe with textbook is not the thing itself, but the audio that comes with it on a set of CDs. There are four voice actors - two male and two female, and they are all American. Fair enough so far - American English is the standard form taught here. Now, to make the textbook relevant and interesting for high school students (as if they ever put that much effort into that) the actors are most often playing high school students themselves, though with some exceptions. The girl who does Maki (one of the most frequently recurring characters, and is Japanese) sounds like a muppet. Kind of like a female Kermit - she has the same weird way of separating each word in the sentence. The girl who does Kate (exchange student from San Francisco) has the most irritating, simpering spoilt-sounding voice imaginable. The guy who does Takuya (at first) actually has quite a pleasant voice. The most annoying voice is that of the guy who originally appears as John Wang, the Chinese-Australian English-language teacher. Aside from the voice itself (which sounds like a reserved TV continuity announcer) the characters he's used for come off as horribly inappopriate. As John Wang, (Australian, but with an American accent for some reason) he can't even pronounce "Brisbane" - the town his parents supposedly live in - correctly (he pronounces it "Bris-bain"). But then for some reason in lesson 7, for no apparent reason this guy starts doing the voice of Takuya, when Takuya goes to America for a homestay. The old voice of Takuya becomes Takuya's host-brother. Now, Takuya is supposed to be a high school student, and the John Wang guy sounds about 40. Perfect for John Wang, slightly creepy for Takuya. And he doesn't sound remotely like a Japanese boy learning English, which the other guy pulls off quite well. I can only assume John Wang knocked the real Takuya out after class one day and stole his identity so he could go on holiday to America. I say this, because towards the end of the textbook the voices switch back again to their original actors.

Hopefully the real Takuya will get his revenge in the sequel.

Something wicked this way comes

The Seedy (but soft) Underbelly

Last night, we went to Ingrid's.

Ingrid's is a karaoke bar, and the place that most of the foreigner community in Tokushima visits at one time or another. There was a time when I would come here almost every weekend, sometimes two nights in a row, though I don't go out as much as I used to. Ingrid's is run by a lady called Ingrid (surprise!) and has no cover charge or fee for using the karaoke machine. Hooray!

Em and I went for something safe to sing:

 You can never go wrong with Gaga.

Ingrid's is located in Sakae-machi, which is one of the most atmospheric and alive places in Tokushima city. It's a series of narrow alleys off Akita-machi, and along with that street houses the majority of the drinking establishments in town. When the sun sets, these streets begin to come to life. They fill with students and other young people going for drinks with their friends, with salary-men and other professionals having after work drinks and "nijikais" ("second parties" after official work functions), with hosts and hostesses soliciting on street corners, yakuza types going about their secret business, and the occasional drunk vomiting or urinating up against a building. Tis truly a magical place.

What sets this kind of district in Japan apart from similar places elsewhere is a strange illusion of sincerity that exists between the proprietors of these establishments and their customers. In Japan, customer service is number one, and when most of the bars in town are very small and therefore rather similar in layout, this is very important. When a so-called 'Snack Bar' charges 2000-3000 yen just for seating, they have to be offering more than just a place to sit. Whether it's the kindly ear of the barman, the companionship of a beautiful young lady or the missing half of your karaoke duet, it's up to the staff to make you feel comfortable and at home - so that you'll stay and keep drinking, and, more importantly, so that you'll come back next time. These bar people are not your friends, and if you ask them out on a date they will probably be busy, but while you're under their care they will treat you like family. As long as you have the cash.

Walking down Sakae-machi late at night you see this dance playing out all the time. You see snack bar girls come outside as a customer is leaving, lamenting his early departure and ensuring his return in the not-too-distant future. The customer, who may have a wife at home, says goodbye, fawning over the lady and not caring about the 10,000 yen un-itemised bill he just paid that has taken advantage of his inability to remember how much he actually drank. Some say this kind of thing is the result of a lack of communication between spouses and friends, and fills that particular void in the Japanese lifestyle. I find it fascinating, but also a little frightening.

While we're on the subject of the seedy, there's this:

This is Marie De Medicis, the Love Hotel down the road from my apartment. Love Hotels are a novel invention that provide couples with a discreet place for a hook-up. I say discreet, despite the glaring neon signs and often ridiculous exterior design that are the hallmark of the Love Hotel, because it's often unnecessary to see members of staff face-to-face to get a room. In the case of this particular Love Hotel, they have an underground parking area so no one has to be seen entering or leaving the premises. I find the whole concept ingenious.

Health scares and mystery pants

This schedule was disrupted at Tokusho today (normal schedules are probably actually rarer than disrupted ones) , which I think was to allow time for the Japanese equivalent of a pep rally, as a number of interschool sports tournaments are about to start. The only thing of note to happen today was that the school cafeteria was closed due to them finding some kind of bacteria there after a routine weekly test. There were several announcements made over the school PA system about the matter. During my second and final class of the day, just before lunch, which was the class with Mr Pizza (mentioned in an earlier post), the JTE left to go get the students' tests from the staff room to give back. While he was away there was an announcement telling specific students to go down to the nurse's room. Immediately, Mr Pizza and some of his rowdy friends jumped on this opportunity to leave the class. Now, I didn't believe for one second that he was among the students asked for, but I had no way of proving it, so I let him go, along with the two female students who actually were supposed to leave. It didn't matter in the end, because they were soon after frog-marched back into the classroom by the JTE who must have been on his way back up the stairs. A later announcement told students who had already bought onigiri (riceballs) that morning not to eat them, and return them at lunchtime. At lunchtime the students who relied on the cafeteria were allowed to leave the school grounds (usually a no-no) to get food nearby. Their names were checked off by a posse of teachers at the main gate. Some went to McDonald's, and others were surprised to see me in supermarket Kyoei, where I went to pick up some stuff to take home.

Being in Mr Pizza's class reminded me of the existence of pizza and the fact that I hadn't had it in a while. Not that he dwelt on the pizza thing this time. He only asked me once to say it ten times. Mr Elbow was absent today, so maybe that's why. Anyway, I decided to get pizza at the next available opportunity.

When I went home today, a mysterious sight presented itself. What looked like a small hanger for drying clothes was suspended from a pole outside the building, complete with assorted pants. My first thought was that it had fallen down from above. However, there are no balconies on this side of the building, which is the side that everyone's front doors are on. Here are the pants in close-up and in context:

There are no other nearby buildings the pants could have fallen from. It's all a bit of a mystery, really. Added to that, the pants and hanger were gone when I passed by later.

Anyways, it's pizza time. I got Emily on board. She'll say yes to anything that doesn't involve olives. Hooray!