Some special details...

So, it was the promise of the triple-meaning title of this blog to provide some risqué and/or psychadelic details of my trips… So I will now fill in on some of the happenings of my life in the Japanese inaka (countryside).

When I arrived I was shown my little house, which is simple yet spacious and almost quaint. Then the men who had picked me up from the regional airport and had brought me to my new home invited me to the house next door for what the Japanese call an enkai, drinking party. So I followed their directions, and even dressed in formal attire (which, by the way, was absolutely unnecessary). Then the party started. Plenty of shochu (sweat potato vodka, calorie free) and Asahi began flowing. The men, four out of five of which were over forty, and I sat at low-standing table, cross-legged. They began to cook fish, chicken, onions, and anything else that they happened to bring on a grill that rested on the middle of this table. They also passed around sashimi and sushi. It was delicious. They made me feel at home right away. Before all this consumption, however, is the important “kanpai,” or Japanese cheers that is absolutely necessary before drinking. This consists of saying “kanpai” and touching cups together.

But this is not risqué enough for my hungry readers…. Hondo Kocho-sensei, as he is formally called, or Principal Honda (of the Junior High school where I primarily work), invited me to go with him to a local onsen (hot springs) the next morning at 6:40. So I went and had my first onsen experience, completely naked, of course, with my boss and some other older Japanese men. It was a very relaxed atmosphere despite the presence of a large Caucasian man in the small room that was really more like a bathhouse with natural water. There are also outdoor onsen and I have yet to be in one of them. I did go to a facility that had one with my supervisor where I again got completely naked and bathed with my supervisor and his father…. I know what all of you guys are just itching for me to tell you! Yes there are onsens where both sexes bathe together. And I am looking forward to visiting one at some point. I like the more relaxed attitude about the body in Japan; it is refreshing compared to the up-tight attitude that you find in most of America.

(The comfort with the body also has some humorous by-products one of which being what my predecessor called the “butt poke” where the nursery school children attempt to insert their finger into the teacher’s butt-hole. It is really more humorous than offensive if you ask me. The fact that these little kids could conceive of doing such a thing to their superiors is very peculiar—I like their challenge to authority. I have already experienced one butt poke at a festival for the nursery school kids, after which I said “Da-me” (Damn May in a British accent) which means “don’t.”)

I have also attended a couple more enkais since the first one on the night of my arrival. My mother happened to telephone me the day after one enkai and witnessed my good old hangover mood. Luckily it was a very mild hangover (I think it is because the alcohol is low in impurities); however the long drive after the early wake up did worsen it.

The event that I am referring to is a “trip to the beach” that I attended with two (small) busloads of elementary school students and teachers in Oita-ken, the prefecture directly to the east of Kumamoto-ken. These were no normal “days at the beach” though: They were highly organized 6:30am-9pm days of rigorous swimming practice, sea-kayaking lessons, and marine biology education. Well, the events weren’t always that rigorous, but the schedule was. These dedicated elementary school teachers wake up at 6:30 to lead their children through morning stretching and exercises (which I happily slept through). I am continually amazed at how much care is given to raising these children. The service these teachers do for their students is tremendous.


As for my function on this trip, my lack of Japanese language leaves me in an interesting position of having the full respect of a teacher/administrator from the teachers and administrators, but also being able to play with the kids and act almost inanely at times (but never really inanely). When the administrators hang out, they bring me along as a sort of walking mantle-piece that provides them with a source of conversation and a receptacle for beer that they serve to it (me). This bothers me only a little. But it does also illuminate the bigger issue at hand: living in a community that I cannot properly communicate with. This problem is aggravated by the fact that I have no serious plans to learn Japanese: I feel that I simply don’t have the kind of commitment (or desire, I hate to admit) it takes. But that could change once I start the Japanese language course that the JET program offers to its participants.

The reader may wonder, at this junction, why the hell I came all the way over here if not to learn the language. Well, I will respond to this clever, inquisitive reader: I came here to experience a culture which I find fascinating, I came here to see and meet the country of my mother’s birth, I came here to eat the food, I came here not to be a broke college graduate with no plans for work, and I came here because the Japanese government made it so convenient for people like me to do this even if they do not speak a word of Japanese. And I do not regret my decision, nor will I leave without learning a good deal of conversational Japanese. Nor will I let the dear reader forget that only 60 years ago my country was sending a very different sort of material than English language teaching assistants. And for the Japanese government my presence in this small village is reason enough to pay to send me here. I serve as a cultural ambassador from across the Pacific, as well as an advocate of Japan for the rest of my life. Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi thinks that we JETs will help increase the tourism in Japan. He knows the dangers of a culture that becomes too isolated, too insular.

To finish this unruly post I will let you know that I took it upon myself to inform some co-workers that I am Buddhist despite the fact that I am only Buddhist in so far as it is my favorite religious tradition and I do read some of the its teachings from time to time. So telling them that I am is a bit odd. But perhaps a helpful gesture: 90% of the people of Ubuyama (so I am told) practice some form of Buddhism and to tell them that I understand their practice means that I can communicate some form of my understanding of their culture without actually speaking their language. When in Rome do as the Romans do, right? Well, it is amusing for me at least.