On Vacation... See you again in mid-January

Hey, I need a vacation.

Yeah, so I'm taking one.

So see ya in a month or so, k?

And while your at it leave comments for me. Jokes. Meanings of life. Descriptions of where we go when we die.

The appearances of my home

Alas I have fitted you with the unsatisfactory pictures of an less-than-healthy looking home. As you can see time has not been all too kind to my house as the mold eats away at the outer walls.

But what I can say in its defense is that these are only the appearances of the place. Its heart, its innards, are nice enough to the eye (although exceedingly difficult to represent in photos; you'll have to take my word).

That said, there is a peculiarity of the culture of aestheticism here in Japan. That while beauty is such a highly regarded element, the towns are often sores to the eye. Thus the ideals of beauty that pervade the handwriting, the multitude of arts, the Shinto shrines, the gardens, have been lost somewhere to the bigger picture of the modernized civilization.

Do not get me wrong--the beauty still exists out there and within the peoples' practices. It is just not applied to the modern, social-centered things like towns as a whole.

Which tempts me to say that the ideal of aesthetics here may only be a surface-level of aesthetics. It is not the kind of ideal of beauty that pervades the more general parts of society. The local government does not, for example, seem to control development or architecture in order that it may be as pleasant looking as it could be. On the contrary: the land is stripped to its elements; trees are planted in rows, pulled out like weeds; dams intervene, roads cut through everything. The trucks spew out black smoke; electronics factories are notorious polluters of the most harmful chemicals and metals. Everything that cannot be easily recycled is burned. South American rainforests are mauled down in order that disposable chopsticks can be supplied for any small eating. Horses are turned into sashimi.

Thus the ideals of aesthetics do not necessarily penetrate the ethical integrity, the social projects, the local and national governments' planning, the economy as a whole. This should not be too surprising; there may be no civilization on earth that truly accomplishes those lofty feats. But maybe in local situations.

I've always believed that the highest forms of beauty in a human being do not exist on a visual level. Then again, the ugliest parts of the human would also exist in the mind, heart, and soul. Human eyes are pretty beautiful. But I guess I am trying to say is that I value kindness, ethical integrity, sincerity, empathy, goodwill. Those civil aspects of humanity, humanitarianism. In other words I think that it is a mistake to judge a book by its cover. Not only is my house nicer than it looks from the outside, but many beautiful things are less so when they are more closely examined (if you have that patience).


This isn't news to anyone. For some reason my tired mind, on this Sunday morning, wants to extrapolate, express, etc.. But at least I finally gave you the pictures that I promised.

In conclusion, however, I must say that the spectre of delusion goes in both directions. The one that finds beauty underneath a surface of ugliness and one that finds ugliness underneath a surface of beauty. Which is worse? They both have their vices and spices. It's just a good example of the many ways in which humans may only see just a couple sides of an exceedingly multi-faceted world.

The middle school next to my house:
And the construction situated next to it:
Our schools's special elephant statue (symbolzing the exchange program our town has with Satit Kaset School in Bangkok):

a word for my ancestors

photo by Wendy Grudin

In the past tens of thousands of years our forbears have done a lot that we have no idea about and probably never will. Long, long ago we were all pretty much cousins and we may as well still be. Saying that and feeling that are two very different things. Religious beliefs are enough to make two different people at odds. Language barriers, even small ones, are enough to create huge misunderstandings.

I think of my ancestral past from time to time. Sometimes they help me understand how I got so crazy. Other times they help me understand how my parents got so crazy too. Then, other times yet, by being aware of their own struggles and values, I remember to maintain my own.

Two of my ancestors come to my mind a lot these days. They are my mother's grandfathers, both of which she never got to meet. Hans and Kurt. One was a general of the German army from 1930-1934 who is remembered for his desire to take out the fuehrer, being "extremely hostile to the Nazi Party," so much so that he was relieved from duty.


Hans, my other maternal great-grandpa, was assasinated in 1920 by right-wing Germans because he fought for what he believed in during a time of extreme political repression. He was a conservationist, an internationalist, an anti-racist. Rosa Luxemborg was apparently a fan of Hans (see the link below).

Then my paternal grandparents and their parents who are less documented. My last grandparent, Abraham, is pictured above. He is a wonderful grandpa (in his nineties!) and lives with Wendy and Pat in Colorado (hey guys!). Someday I will write about that side of the family too, for there is a lot to be written, but now I must rest.

Link about Kurt

Link about Hans

German and Russian-Jewish blooded American in Japan

German-Russian American with (technically but not practically) Jewish father and Japan-born mother goes to small village in Japan to promote internationalization in 2005.

I hadn't thought of that headline for my job until today when I realized that with all of my different backgrounds I may as well be the symbol of some of the greatest massacres of the 20th century. It's not easy sometimes. Quite ironically, my maternal grandparents fled Nazi Germany (where they would have most probably perished, based on their ideology and blood, with the more than 6 million who died after they escaped) around about 1933 and came to Japan, Germany's soon-to-be ally in the war. They ended up staying for around 14 years until they found away to move to another country involved in the war (on the other side), America. It is simplistic to assume that a country's national government represents the whole country. I, for one, had nothing to do with the war in Iraq. I never had a choice in the matter.

To finish the circle my mother ended up marrying a nice guy named Robert while they were grad students at Berkeley. Robert happened to be from a Russian, Jewish family (who left Russia before WWI). Not everyone knows this but over ~27 million Russians died during WWII. That made Russia the country with the greatest percentage lost during the war (14%) according to http://www.cdi.org/russia/johnson/7232-1.cfm.

So I guess I have to live with the fact that many of my "peoples" have killed millions of each other in the past hundred years. I guess that makes my genes/ancestral past either masochistic or just really confused. I am certainly confused. Perhaps many foreigners here in Japan are. We are attempting the tightrope-walk of moving beyond our pasts without entirely forgetting them.

and everyone please give a very warm welcome to...

Apocalypse!

Yes, my old friend. Scruffy-looking ball of love.

When I decide that society's ills have finally caved-in the goodness of life I remember that they are nothing compared to my old, good friend. All it takes is an article like this

http://www.guardian.co.uk/space/article/0,14493,1660485,00.html#article_continue

to remind me that we are way 'overdue' (in geological time) for an asteroid as big as the one that wiped out the dinosaurs. Some people have noted that this simple fact is strangely relieving. It is also relieving that human time is on a completely different scale than geological time and 'overdue' may mean that it still takes 10,000 years to happen. Phew. That's enough time for a new religion to bud (Christianity only took a little over 2,000 years if you don't count its pre-cursors) and for bunches of civilizations to rise and fall.

Alienation, shapes and colours

Yes I may use the British spelling. Thank you. Sorry is my favorite word spoken in the British accent. Daijobu is one of my favorite Japanese words. And Kokoro. They mean alright and heart.

I had this idea to write about alienation a few days ago. But then I was in a car. And then I had another idea.

But I think I will at some point.

Alienation; from your work, from your society, from your body, from your emotions. What does happen when you can no longer relate to your own emotions? Sometimes alienation is a good thing. And what about repression of emotions, individuality, sociality? Alienation from the outdoors?

I may have had something to say before but now I don't. I ate a lot of spaghetti tonight. I need it for the long night of keeping warm in my -6 degree (C) house (well not quite, but may as well be as that's the temp outside).

Oh yeah, my car is back and is safe at home. I guess I won't be able to drive it much in the next four months, but at least my office can lend me theirs for the time being.

So be well and merry.

Oranges and Apples

Dear Reader,

I am quite sorry for not being a frequent writer as of late. You see, I was on my way back from Fukuoka City and rain into the year's first snow storm in the mountains near my village. So after making some delightfully acrobatic maneuvers (like an ice-skater on four wheels), I decided to halt my automobile and walk as the last light of sun peeked its way through the clouds overhead, which were still showering down the grateful hills. Then two cool guys helped get me back home in their trucks. It would have been a valiant walk though.

Furthermore I had a mid-year JET Programme meeting in Kumamoto City for the past two days. That is where I finally learned an important lesson (and with some help from a special person and some friends): that two extremely different cultures can hold such completely different customs and moral standards means that comparisons often fail us. Thus they are like apples and oranges. I cannot project my moral standards on the society and people here; it is not fair and does not see everything at work in the situation.

In many ways, my reasons for coming here were to find a safe-haven for building my dreams in a place that would challenge my ideas about the world. All of that has been accomplished so I am very grateful. I think many English speakers move here for the same reason. It is a wonderful way for budding artists to be able to afford their passions and explore the world at the same time. It certainly does not hurt that our jobs can often be inspiring and wonderful themselves even if they can also refuse to behave as one might so desire.

Here I should be teaching history.

Two examples alone are enough to merit these words.

In the very class where I read the story, from the English textbook New Horizon, of the tree who remembers people dying under her branches due to the bombing of Hiroshima (consisting of fourteen and fifteen year olds), I found a very alarming graphic on a student's pencil case. It was a swastika next to a skull wearing an army helmet with the words "destroy your pretty face" or something of that nature. I don't know what is more disturbing, the fact that this kid didn't know not to buy/use/have this pencil case or the fact that it is sold in stores here (or the fact that teachers haven't prevented him from using it even after I made it known in the office).

The other example comes secondhand, from my mom when she was here. My mother and I were at an enkai (drinking party) and my mother was talking to one of my favorite people from my office (who also speaks English). I was speaking to some Japanese men who were trying to tell me that they liked to suck women's nipples, but that's another story. I could almost hear the conversation of the other side of the room that my mom later recounted. They were discussing World War II and the Japanese popular reaction to the war. My mother had just told my co-worker that her family in Japan was, like many Japanese families, against the war from the get-go. This shocked my co-worker, who replied: "you mean there were Japanese who were against the war?" My co-worker, who had to have been a very good student and quite well-read, was not to fault for this, of course. For one, it is hard to say how many people were really firmly against the war. But it does suggest that Japanese history textbooks do not provide a very comprehensive account of the war to which their country was central. That, coupled with the swastika pencil case, is enough for me to want to be a history teacher here (and an English teacher as well, to help the Japanese converse with other cultures).

Something happened in the unhappy news that, despite its unhappiness or rather because of it, I wanted to bring it up here. Van Tuong Nguyen was hung yesterday for trafficking 396 grams of heroin through Singapore. Officials in Singapore decided, depite pleas for otherwise, not to let the condemned man hug his mother before his death, he only was allowed to hold hands. This all happened despite pleas from Australia's prime minister John Howard.

On a similar note, the U.S. just hit its 1,000th person executed since 1976. That is not good. Although many of these people were charged with crimes much greater than Nguyen's (in my humble opinion) many of these people may not have truly done the crimes of which they were pronounced guilty. Even if they had been guilty, killing is not right. For those who are not insane, something like shame and prison would be a much better approach. For those who are insane, then there are insanse asylums.

The causes of, and fixes for, the predominance of insanity in America is another problem that needs to be addressed, but I'll save that for another time.

The Land of Endless Self-Projections

You've probably noticed by now something funny about these articles here if you have been so patient as to read the words writ in them... That funny thing that may have been more obvious or less obvious than I imagine is that in my various musings, which range from human nature to the state of Japan, I have been guilty of projecting my own sentiments and emotions here on to them. In fact the ideas represented may be more a product of my internal states than of the states external to me.

Although it is exceedinly self-analytical, and perhaps self-indulgent, I wanted to be open about this fact. Sometimes, like right now for instance, I feel as though these entries are my confessions.

Perhaps this is why I am always so apologetic and this is why I named it all TedsTrips. I want to be honest about just how subjective this all really is. Just as the photos were taken from my point of view, from my exact points in space and time at the time of capture (or at least the camera in my hand's points in space and time), the words I write are similarly created.

To continue in this potentially uncalled-for, or even futile, honesty I will write that tonight I went to bed at eleven and could not sleep. Perhaps it was that my body was not tired (I had napped earlier sitting at my heater-under-the-table-with-blanket contraption that is popular in Japan (kotatsu?)), but I also has a strange notion/emotion come over me. The immense silence of being alone at night in my house, in this town can often create these strange emotions. The only breaks in the silence are of passing cars on the road just above my house, but they provide little in terms of company. This notion/feeling was one of a certain kind of fear, or at least it involved fear. The idea that I was only half alive had come over me. That in this silence and solitude I had felt the absence of friends and that made me feel as though I was floating and as though all my life here would float away just as my time in England, only about 15 months ago, has already seemed to have floated away.

So I called my dear friend Sam who is currently living and studying in New Haven. He has three really long essays to turn in by the 19th but he spared me the time as a rare friend does. Talking through the internet we chatted for a good half an hour (midnight here is morning on the East Coast so it's convenient). Now I feel at least not alone with this notion/feeling, although it still looms within me. Although I cherish this time of reflection, learning, and relative freedom, I yearn to not let me life slip away like this. I feel as though I should be older now, but something tells me that I'll be even less likely to want to be this isolated when I am older. So I wait, patiently, and I try to be grateful of what I have here while I still have it.

Soon I will post some photos of where I live, work, walk, etc. in order that you all can finally get a more realistic picture of what life is like here (not just for me, but on a more objective level). Then, in not so long, I will make another one of my life's small escapes - this time for vacation on my home island deep in the Pacific. I will be there for a month and that month will, most of it, be a break from this log of contemplation and self-expression. Soon after I get back after break I will be asked to hand in recontracting paperwork if I wish to stay another year. I surely welcome any advice from any parties who wish to give advice although I must say that things always seem different from afar. I am sure that when I do leave this town, for I will certainly leave eventually, it could be more than slightly heartbreaking. Not that there won't be things I am happy to move on from, but that there are things that I will never find again. Like the purity of heart in the kids here and the kindness of so many people and my first experience learning Japanese from scratch, much of it directly from the mouths of people here who are kind enough to help me along my way. Then there is the family that invites me to eat with them, to explore distant temples and shrines. These are things that cannot ever be replaced.

Will Japan be OK (OK)?

Above: (top) a girl rides down from a shrine that rests up a semi-steep hill. Instead of walking the path (which actually wasn't strenuous), many people took the lift up. Under that is a picture from Suizenji Park where the beautiful landscape architecture rests with a less than appealing backdrop of modern architecture in Kumamoto city.

Below: a Honda is blessed at Fujisakigu Shrine in Kumamoto City. And below a father takes a photo at the same shrine.






At times I personify a country; maybe everyone does it. Japan, in the scheme of my personifications, has become an intimate friend since I have come here (Japan has always been at least a distant friend thanks to her wonderful nori, maki sushi, and pickled daikon that I ate growing up thanks to my mother's wonderful cooking and her intimate relationship with the Japan she remembered for those first seven years of her life). Just like many people I know, the countries I am friends with have troubles sometimes (especially my home country) and I try to be mindful of them.

Below: a small shrine in Ubuyama.


Japan, like any friends, has her quirks, her things that can get to you. But she is so charming, so beautiful (with such an acute sense of aesthetics), and for all her seriousness she has an excellent sense of humor. Not to mention her natural water hot spas and her deliciously pure water (where I am) and her shochu (Japan's mild, healthy vodka usually made from rice, sweet potatoes, or wheat). Her people are surely what make her what she is. But it's not just the people that are alive today, it's also the generations long past. Those people of old made her who she is and some might say that many of the people alive today are forgetting that legacy or replacing it with something else. It is a notion that has gained widespread acknowledgment both within and outside of Japan. You don't have to see The Last Samurai to know that the traditions of Japan have seen drastic makeovers and, in some cases, like in the case of the samurai, they have, practically speaking, been put to rest completely.


Although there is not much I can do I am a little concerned about Japan(and Ubuyama)'s future. Like in Italy, and many other aged civilizations, the birthrate has steadily dropped here. The population is getting increasingly older and schools are shutting down (the two elementary schools in my town are being combined as one is nearly empty (but oh so nice and I will miss it)). There are two large, empty hotels in my small town (that I know of). I am scared that this could turn into a ghost town. While there are people (and realistically there always will be because, for example, enough city people want to move somewhere quiet and beautiful and Ubuyama is as good as any) the town is alive (couldn't realyl call it vibrant), and only a little depressed-ish at times. But I know that it has seen much more vivacious days... (there are going through a recession here, but it has become, I think, an unusually long-lasted one).


I am neither an economist nor a historian of Japan, but she is my friend and she means increasingly more to me as I get to know her better.

The kids here are the most promising aspect of the place. If they could only keep their brilliance into adulthood and lively up themselves as adults in this town. But many of them may be destined to move to a city, or at least out of Ubuyama.

However, just as there is hope that we will remember to keep the sap of youth filtering through our bodies, there is hope that towns like Ubuyama that make up the heart of the countryside will keep the sap of youth in their bodies.


Above: some of my coolest, oldest students (third years at junior high, equivalent of American 9th grade) in Ubuyama (of course).

So I'll try to be a good person here to this town and time will tell how she fares. I do happen to think that the JET program is going to have a dramatically positive impact on this country as it probably already has. Bringing so many young people from all around the world to live here and befriend the people will leave a very positive legacy especially in the smaller cities and towns in Japan. In some way I think that we JETs (and other foreigners living in Japan) are the revolution despite being almost completely unawares. I guess that makes me a government mandated revolutionary.


I hope you guys are well wherever you are.

Minds, Limits

It was about two years ago beneath a tree on the island of Maui, near the deserted guava trees and the trail that goes through thick bamboo forests and up to the ever pouring water fall that lies above Infinity Pool with it's 300 foot drop below, that I first realized in a very profound way the limits of my skull, the limits of my mind, the limits of my head and the specificities of the sensory organs on my head. It was not as though I had not looked in the mirror. It was not as though I had not noticed my two nostrils, my two ears on either side, my two eyes which brought the light in, and my good old mouth which welcomed the food and drink that I was always so lucky to have. No no.

To be good and honest I was not feeling so well that day. I had come by a sickness that had made me feel weak and I was laying under a tree for shade and rest. The rest of my friends had run off to enjoy the view at Infinity pool. I just wanted some time to rest and that I did. Luckily I was not alone; there was a horned cow roaming around the field next to me (the kind that roam around those parts eating the rotten mangoes that carpeted the ground under the mango trees and by the old banyon trees that spread their wiring limbs this way and that).

The cow, although I was invading its territory, let me rest there in peace. I thanked it by promising I would not eat any more cows for the rest of my life (it had big, scary horns and I was in no mood to run, thus I was thankful at its niceness and wanted to return the favor). Unfortunately I forgot about my promise one day when I was really hungry and there was beef to be eaten. I guess that I ate it with more respect than I had had before. But I have always loved cows (especially since milking them and being shat on by them in a barn in Vermont).

Anyhow I somehow learned that day that my head was pretty small in terms of the world around it, that it had a strange concentration of sensory organs on it, and that some weird things were somehow going on inside of it (my processing of all of those organs). Let's just say that my head felt very round and large and at the same time very confined.

Since then I have seen other limits that relate to one's head. One can only keep so much stuff in one's head, one can only bear so many burdens, one can only think so much, one can only stay up so late, etc. I have been seeing that one can only do so much in a day and that those days add together to make up a life. (It's simple enough, but even simple things are worth noting from time to time.) I certainly knew that there were already things that have passed me by and things that would pass me by in the future. I had not been the football star, the rock and roll star, the famous actor, the what-not, etc. However I complimented those realizations with the rationalizations that I did not and would not want to be even if given the chance. And I still agree with many of those rationalizations.

Tonight I had my adult conversation class. It was rewarding, delightful, easy, friendly. It is not really a job or even a task, but a sort of accomodation for friendship and good feelings. Everyone is there not to necessarily learn English, but to be together, to have a cause together. English is the excuse. There was a moment in the class where half the room was silent, relaxed, and the other half was simply laughing. It was the kind of laughing done when one feels the absurdity, the lightness, and the gravity of life all at the same time. Or something like that.

I had known for some time that most of the people in the class would not learn that much more English than they already know. Many of them had already lived the parts of their lives that would involve traveling and communicating in English. Also, they had done other things besides English. They had lived their lives and surely had done things that were important for them, good for them, and maybe sometimes bad for them. But English was not number one, nor should it have been.

And this is all to say... that I love the freedom of not having to make a clear point but to be able to always get straight to the point despite its confusion. And I apologize for bringing you along for the ride thus far on this screen, this black screen with light letters.

And these dolls, these crazy Bunraku, two-faced dolls.



And Yuusuke's parents.


And Yuusuke with his parents.
And my mother with the best of Ubuyama hospitality on her last day.


And my frehly shaved head, some sensory organs included.

And that sad old hand-carved head above.

The roudness of the heads, the limits to them.

A true attempt at reconcilitation and understanding must fail in order for it to be an honest attempt. Desu ne? Take care out there.

Surveillance and The Loud American

As foreigners in Japan we are asked to assimilate ourselves in the culture. We are also asked to promote internationalization and show people about our culture. It is an interesting mixture of do-as-the-Romans do and something entirely different.

So one is both a guest in a foreign culture and a representative of one's own culture. It would be just as useless to reject conforming to some of the customs here as it would be to reject all of your own customs.

In the past four months I have adapted to the customs here a great deal. I have been a good internationalist, mindful of humbly bowing to even the strangers of my town. It matters to me that people here know that I respect them and that I wish to have a positive presence in the town. There are, of course, things that I simply cannot do (like be fluent in the native language here) or that doing would require me to give up who I am. In other words I cannot work like the Japanese teachers work here. I cannot get up at six and work in the office until six everyday. For one I am not supposed to, for another, I am not given the level of responsibility that these teachers are so it would make no sense for me. I am always the exception, always the awkwardly tall light-skinned man with facial hair. Many people in my position feel the same way.

But there have been some interesting developments and realizations. It did not take long to notice that to most people here I am nothing but a foreigner, an English speaker. I am not a particular individual, but a general English-speaking, white foreigner. That means that for the most part I have lost any form of social identity that goes past that most simple characterization. That is partly because of my lack of the language, but the same goes for many of my friends who are fluent because, unless they know someone well the Japanese will assume the same about them. (They are always astonished at our use of Japanese, our ease with chopsticks (a common compliment), and our taste for Nato and pickled plum, "Really?! You like Natto!" (it did take some time to get used to)).

But these details about the people here suggest something else as well. It suggests that not only are foreigners bunched together in the dominant Japanese worldview, but so are the Japanese themselves. There is a certain, relatively high, degree of expectation that Japanese people will adhere to certain universal standards of the culture. It is similar in other cultures (even America) but more pronounced here because the culture is so much more specific. There are not ten or twenty different phrases (including complete ignorance of the customer) for welcoming a customer in your shop (like in NYC), there are one or two. Similarly, there are very specific guidelines for behavior at school and in the office as well as complicated forms of speech that are used depending on the rank and class of those who you are speaking to.

This is all only news to you out there who have not lived in Japan and are not very familiar with Japanese culture. I think that otherwise this will all sound pretty normal to you.

Which brings me to one last point. Koizumi and his "Liberal" "Democratic" Party (LDP) are thinking of requiring a new form of identification for foreigners that would involve fingerprinting and a computer chip implanted in the card. The ID would be required to be on person at all times. It has been deemed the "IC You card." For more information see: http://www.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/getarticle.pl5?fl20051122zg.htm

The fact that the LDP has no real competitor and that people seem to do whatever they tell them to do makes me feel uneasy. Soon I may be little more than another subject of the state, complete with implanted computer chip. This is not just a worry for Japan, however, it is also a worry for places like France and America who have considered or, in some cases implemented, similar programs (Patriot Act, etc.).

Being one who enjoys the high level of freedom I am lucky to have been granted in my life I am careful about ways in which that freedom could be lost. For example, I am careful not to take a job that would drain me of all free time to be creative on my own (even if my job were also creative). So there are certainly times when an outside force that is beyond my grip of influence can actually come down on me and threaten to diminish certain kinds of freedom (like anonymity). And that's why I insist to hold on to my individuality despite the social realities here that cannot contain it, analyze it, understand it, or even see it (unless it is visually on me like my facial hair or clothes). (I must admit that I too am guilty of being blind to parts of people here because of my language gap.) If we do not paint ourselves so as to fit in then just maybe the government will realize that the non-Japanese in Japan are not happy when they feel ever watched, ever documented, ever foreign, and ever de-individualized.

Order.

Who needs it?

Now some order is a good thing. I don’t like guns. They should be taken away. But I do not wish to quarrel with the systems of law, although there is much quarreling to be done. Canada seems to be pretty good about laws, especially in British Columbia.

And now I must attack that which I came here to attack. Order. Orderliness. Cleanliness. Emptiness. Controlledness. You could watch THX 1138, read The Glass Bead Game, or simply go look outside at the weather and the animals and the chaos of life to contemplate the importance of order in the world. But what kinds of order?

I have been struck by the orderliness of Japan. Some say it’s nice. I mean, hell, I didn’t have to wait in any lines in the airport when I flew. It was as easy as pie. And despite the amazing amount of paperwork in the government here, things are fast and civil. Anyone who has been to an L.A. D.M.V. knows that life is different in my fatherland.

But what sacrifices are made for order? A certain, large amount of uniformity and crazed amount of individual self-restraint that only alcohol can cure for most people I know, if they drink. There is also something to say about how orderly (self and societal) control can nix the ability to feel life, to feel free, to take chances, and to be a wild human animal.

Now of course there will be and would be (if given the chance) many who disagree with me, but my good literary friends Walt Whitman, Edward Abbey, Hermann Hesse, and Franz Kafka certainly wouldn’t. Of course each would offer very different points of view, but I think each would be against the kind of order I speak of here.

Now there are people in this world that do as they are told, as they are supposed to do. Then there are some people, namely the authors above, that can’t quite fit into the clothes they’ve been handed. They rebel in their own way, sometimes failing, but sometimes developing a strong stance that fights against that which laid down its control on them.

I think the most heroic of all people are those that fight against the grain. For the grain is usually something to fight against, not with. The grain defines that which humans seem to naturally fall into, a kind of order that does not by itself attack the bad qualities within itself. The dominance of huge corporations around the world is a good example. The governments and people don’t naturally fight against them; quite the contrary, they naturally go with them and accept the kind of minor brainwashing that goes with it.

Which brings us to education, dear friends. For education can, at its best, make people question things like giant corporations and their power in society. But education, at its worst, can do no such thing and can actively educate people to conform.

There was a recent op-ed piece in the New York Times about education, Japan, and America. It was number one on the most-emailed list when I saw it. The writer Brent Staples claimed that in America “Faced with lagging test scores and pressure from the federal government, some school officials have embraced the dangerous but all-too-common view that millions of children are incapable of high-level learning. This would be seen as heresy in Japan.” (Here’s the link: http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/21/opinion/21mon4.html) This statement is absurdly false. Not only is that not seen a heretical thing in Japan, it’s actually built into the education system here where students are separated (by test scores) for high school. The slower kids here get placed in high schools that prepare them for non-intellectual, low-powered lives. It is a rigid hierarchy for these students here much like the caste systems of long ago.

But it is true that Japan puts a higher premium on their educational system than America does, but this certainly doesn’t mean that the system is entirely superior. Also, contrary to Staples’s opinion, the fact that Japan is a very different culture than the U.S. does mean that different policies will work here that would not work in America. I do very much agree with Staples that the No Child Left Behind Act was a serious mistake and another depressing blunder on the part of Bush and his ever-so-orderly, and ever-so-effective administration. Don’t blame me, I voted for the other guy.

To conclude this and to spell out the last few words about my frustration with all-too-orderly and controlling social systems, I must say a few things about what I mean on a human level. I like to live free and I demand a high level of personal freedom. I don’t like to be told I cannot wear certain things or that I must conform with everyone else even if they are not being nice to the world. That’s why I support Diva Cups and solar power. But on an even more personal level, I don’t think that I can be truly happy if my life becomes too orderly. I must always be breaking through the norms of the act of living. At times that is hard being so isolated. It’s best when there are people to go and be crazy with, otherwise I would just be a monk. And after I shaved my head to the skin I have been telling all the people of my town that I am a monk when they ask me if there was a tragedy in my life that made me shave my head. Life is not always easy when you refuse to conform to the standards of your society, but I think it beats the alternative.


"Sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul." –Edward Abbey

Happy Thanksgiving With Love From Japan

These are photos from where I spent my Japanese version of Thanksgiving holiday here on Kyushu. Sometimes I forget to show/tell people about some of my unusual travels. I went to this amazing shrine that was built into the rock of a hill. There were many statues there, almost all handmade (if not all). Then we went to another place with five hundred more statues. It was beautiful. Anyhow, I hope you are having nice, cozy holidays with your loved ones/families.

P.S. I hope you enjoy the monolith in the photo above and that it reminds you of 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Earthquakes and Crises

I've been feeling my social limits as a human being in the past few weeks. I've realized that my pride cannot really stand a job that is sometimes practically substanceless. I've learned that to have friends near that understand you is indispensible.

Yes, my friends; Ted, Teddy, Ned, Tedward, Tedley, Nedley, the odor (my brother Nick's personal favorite), Theo, Theodore, or Teto (as they call me here) - whatever you call this animal that is currently pushing buttons on some small, inert, white thing - is experiencing crises. But worry not as these sorts of self-indulgences are completely natural. Also, crises come and go. Everyone goes through them. Sometimes they completely transform themselves into something very positive.

Recently I have had more contact with my friends than ever before. I have acquired internet in my home and have been talking for very cheap through Skype to friends around the world. Perhaps this is why I have now found this crisis. Perhaps the internet has given me crutches that I didn't need and that now create new needs. The internet is a tricky thing, isn't it? It's like a computer game that pretends to be a tangible aspect of your real life. But it can never be that just like a machine could never beat Federer or Nadal at a match of tennis. That's why people exist in real life. Because we cannot ever be fully replaced. Life can never be fully replaced. Something will always be missing. And that goes for friends too, wise guy.

Sometimes I feel like I am living in a tunnel park (photo above) trapped inside of cave with strange electrically lit decorations and a highly uninhabitable environment. But then I remember that outside my office are mountains and rivers and trees and sky. Sometimes I cannot hear/see/feel past the bustling of this busy junior high school office where I am supposed to spend most of my working hours.

Last night I felt my first earthquake. The bugger woke me up. It was unsettling, as earthquakes tend to be. The vice-principal at my school told me it was a 3.0 but I just looked it up and it was a 6.2 on the richter scale. Not bad eh?

I think that sometimes people just get tangled in the combination of wires and branches. The confusion overbears and thrusts forth its nasty convolutedness, tangling mess.

Bunraku, Lasting Youth, and Tiredness

Today I was lucky enough to see my first Bunraku performance in the village of Seiwa. These dolls are held by people dressed entirely in black, including a black hood that covers each puppetmaster's entire head. I found it an interesting metaphor for society in that the characters of the play are not only completely designed by people but they are also almost completely operated by them. I say almost because they seem to be able to take a life of their own after they have been created. Also, with so many people affecting their incarnation on stage, they may as well be alive.

Above: one of the puppeteers showing off her Bunraku doll after the dramatic performance.

I had a surreal day travelling around the Aso countryside and beyond into Yamato-cho. I even went into a "Tunnel Park," a defunct train tunnel in the middle of a beautiful mountain village (Takamori-machi) that was converted into a kind of amusement park. Right now the tunnel is decorated with countless Christmas trees that hang from the cylindrical tunnel's roof above the flowing spring water where the train tracks would have been.

All the while I was with my supervisor, Yuusuke Nakamura, a delightful human being. We even saw these incredible statues crafted with cedar bark and barley/rice stocks, among other things. Then I went to a sake factory and got to have some free samples...



I wanted to write something today about aging in Japanese culture. Everyone seems to age more slowly here. But I don't necessarily mean that on the level of appearance. I mean that they their outlook and their state of mind seem to age more slowly than anywhere I have ever lived. I cannot fully describe here my evidence for this. It seems that parents let their kids have a long, unrushed childhood in order that they will later provide for them and maybe even live in the house with them as they age. Parents seem to be less over-bearing as they perhaps recognize that treating their children with respect will be most important in helping their children fulfill their duties to them in the future. Filial piety is certainly a very important part of Japanese culture. I would try to say more about my observations of the families here but I am afraid that the simple fact of conditions changing due to them being observed (by a foreigner, no less) probably discount many of my obervations. Everyone knows that families behave a little better when a guest is in the house.


I, myself, am very tired. I could try to elaborate on other topics of interest. Perhaps on technology or the paradoxes of human relationships, but I am afraid that my efforts would be fruitless or, at least, absurd at best. A tired mind does not function very well. That's why we must sleep.

But since I am not asleep yet... I will take this opportunity to say that I made a new friend, a golden retriever outside of this amazing chicken barbecue restaurant (the most divine smell that I a chicken-lover could find). I am always impressed with the heart of these dogs. How do they do it? How are they so friendly and so kind? Certainly humans fall short. Then again, I am not talking about all breeds of dogs (and cats for that matter, those wonderful beasts). But is there something hidden in their affection to us? Is it the recognition that if we were to come between them and their well-being that they would no longer tolerate us, that we would become strangers, or worse? Does this not bear true in most mammalian relationships? The interesting concept of altruism must also contain completely self-interested acts. For obviously, if the self does not take care (of itself) then all selves, the whole, could perish all too soon.

Ancient Self

For how many decades have animals been changing through time? You can put a number on the time but what does it all mean?

It may have been 30,000-60,000 years ago that humans experienced what some scientists call the big bang of the brain which was a creativity/intelligence explosion that happened well after our braincases had increased to their now (mean) present size.

What does it mean to those who realize that in many ways our brains still work the same way that many of our primate friends' brains work? That, for example, anger and happiness have set ways of being expressed that are very similar to those reactions that most primates have as well. I could note the studies, but I don't think that it takes a study to see. You can walk around and look for yourself. Go to an international city where people from every continent walk around or go to every continent and look around. I am almost sure that you will find many differences in the specific cultures of the people, how they communicate, what they eat, and how they think of the world around them. But the way they walk, the way they eat, the way they reproduce, the way their face moves, the way they act on a social level will all look very familiar to you. Because it is familiar. It not only runs through the blood of every human but it also runs through much of the blood of many of our mammal comrades.

There is certainly something that stuns most people about the idea that our bodies are not completely in our control, that we are in some ways out of our own hands. Some people will disagree with much of what I say on an intellectual level. All of what I have written can be proved wrong, even by my own argumentation, but so can many things that are practically correct and why argue with something that is so apparent. If you accept the concept of evolution then these concepts are certainly reasonable. If you do not accept the concept of evolution then there is some strange evidence in front of your eyes that you cannot account for with any other worldview. Unless you simply believe that the powers that created us thought it would be funny to make other species of animals amazingly similar to us.

So I am elaborating on what probably should be common sense by now. I am asking how this common sense affects those who contemplate it. Whether it is comforting to know that human life is not somehow on a completely different level than all other life, that it is perhaps on an equal level. Or does it make you shudder that you are not necessarily better than the other animals that crawl and leap from tree to tree in those developing countries as you may deem them. And our poor relatives are quickly being eliminated from their natural habitats. Some people, namely Jane Goodall, feel the deepest sadness and injustice at the demise of our animal relatives. They may be animals and somewhat stupid, but so are we. I am also very sad that we are losing are friends so fast.



. . . . . . .

Update on life here other: it is getting very cold at night here. I dread the day when the water in my kitchen faucet (and in my toilet bowl) freezes over, but I am sure it will be humorous at the same time. I went to the city this weekend and drank some dark beer. It had been a while. I also had lunch at an Italian restaurant and had some amazing Udon noodles mixed with egg that the heat of the noodles solidified in this cool, steamy little joint. They only cost around $3.50. Life is cheap here; cheaper than much of America. It must be Tokyo and its prices that convince people how expensive Japan can be. The sun is shining outside the office window right now and there is a kerosene heater behind me, in the middle of the office, that is heating up the whole room pretty nicely. It is providing a good reason to crawl out of bed and go to the office where all my warm-hearted co-workers also come to everyday.