A Tale of Two Slices

AM

Least: 8:05am, I was assaulted by the acrid smell of burning toast. What I still cannot explain is why one slice was incinerated, while the other survived to be eaten. My only thought is that because the two slices were from different factories, they had different compositions. One probably had twice the level of sugar than the other, making it dangeously flammable. The boring experiements will continue.

Most: Between 11:25 and about midday, I recieved a near-presentation about the history of post-war politics of Japan. My student did admirably well in explaining the surge to the left after Japan's defeat then back to the right, and now slightly back to the left. It is clear though, that the current situation just after the election is unlikely to last too much longer than four years. According to my lesson, the DPJ has made too many compromises to get to power and shifted too far to the right for its rightwing candidates to escape the clutches of the LDP.

PM

Least: At about 9:20pm, I arrived at Wakayama station to discover that my train was not leaving for another 18 minutes. The journey back to Tezukayama seemed to take forever and was punctated by a series of maddening delays. I missed my local train by seconds at Mikunigaoka, only for my hopes to rise then be dashed by a second train flashing past (actual photo right). Even after I boarded my local train, it seemed to crawl to Tezukayama. The last blow came after I left the train and had to wait for trains at the crossing. Frustrating and boring.

Most: At about 7:00pm I unwrapped a huge tub of KFC and offered it to the small crowd at a staff and student party in Wakayama. The surreal surroundings, a pinkish office on the 6th floor of an office block and the guests including schoolgirls in sailor suits made a potentially tedious event mildly interesting. A series of bizarre pizzas were unveiled and a tableful of assorted and cheap Japanese fare tempted guests. Between one of the awkward silences, were were required to introduce ourselves and give an interesting fact or two - one rather important guest chose her recent purchase of exercise equipment from tv as her nugget. Conversation did not move on too far from there. Near the end of the night, no less than twelve photos were taken, the peace signs were irrepressible and I missed my train.

The Newspaper on the Tram

AM


Least: At 10:05am, I began the incredibly boring process of munching through 'Pasco 5' bread. It is far to thick to lend itself to an admirable meal - the toast affected layer is far too thin compared with the doughy, sugary and bland interior of massive GI. Despite rapidly depleting Vegemite supplies, I managed to mask some of the horrors of Japanese bread, but it wasn't quite enough. And to think Pasco is the best of a very bad bunch.

Most: Around 8:15am, I crept down the stairs to go on a long overdue stroll 'round the pond. In the many weeks since my last laps, the leaves had begun turning yellow, grass was crazily high, and some of the trees had been dealt some brutal pruning. As usual, there were tens of old men ambling around the path and a few people walking their over pampered dogs. For some reason, two police on bicycles were roaming the area, evidently looking for something or someone - they looked like tough characters despite the bikes. On my way home I noticed that the large white cube of a house (right) was progressing nicely, though the lift and the tiny third floor seem excessive. The owners will probably feel modest and cramped given the enormous size of the houses that stand next door.

PM

Least: By 4:50am, I was once again trapped in an impossibly small office listening to yet another sleazy teacher who seemed to think every woman or girl was at his feet. He met the usual profile of a balding nerd who, probably a geek in his home country and found himself an adonis in Japan. The appalling thing was that he thought enough of himself to bore anyone close bye. He reported with a straight face that no woman in Thailand was as hot as his Japanese girlfriend. Even more boring than the tissues I was packing.

Most: Not long after 9:35pm. I walked through Tennoji, passed several homeless guys sleeping in cardboard boxes and alighted the tram to Himematsu. Sitting on either side of me was a young woman who looked like she'd forgotton to wear pants and a man reading a sports-based newspaper. Peeking at the newspaper, I noticed that the man on my left was perusing the pornographic pages of the paper - numerous sets of breasts covered the page. Perhaps self conscious (but probably not), he flipped to a section that gave him tips about improving his golf swing then quickly fell asleep. Many of the local tabloid papers double as porno mags and men often reading them on public transport without shame. The girl sitting on my right texted on a phone with a toy hanging from it twice its' size.

This Week's Boring Surprise

AM

Least: At 10:37am, I once again found myself groaning at the thought of calling headquarters to learn of my shift for today. Although most Mondays usually ends in extreme boredem, there is always the chance of a horror shift with too many kids classes or an epic rail journey. Uncertainty is stressful, but it becomes boring very quickly despite the surprises.This week's boring surprise: Komyoike 3:45pm to 9:35pm.


Most:  Just after 5:24am, I unexpectedly got out of bed and took a whiff of the air outside to sample the weather. From our balcony I got a great view of the rising sun, which I thought appropriate given my current location. The sun dominated the urban sprawl and gave the usually boring concrete a pleasing orange glow. Next time I'll take a photo. Looking at todays astronomical forcasts I found that high noon with actually be at midday today and tomorrow's daylight will be two minutes shorter.

PM

Least: By 9:36pm, I was at the good end of a six hour stint underground. My tomb was also surrounded by a second-string shopping mall with muzak of muzak playing. It was like spending the afternoon in a cinema watching a movie about out-of-date wall postings. When I emerged from my burrow, the decaying concourse was dark and filled with dodgy looking loiterers.

Most: Sometime around 5:35pm, I began listening to the lamentations of a women in a loveless marriage. She had four teenage kids, a house deep in the country, a lazy spiteful husband and not many other options. Her marriage had been arranged and although she had serious doubts about her suitor, he and his mother, came to the woman's family home to ensure a yes vote. She enjoyed reading whilst lying on the floor, but lept to sit ladylike in a chair upon hearing her husband's footfalls. She said "I think he loves me". Interesting and very sad, and apparently not too uncommon.

Rice Paddies and Grindcore

Saturday 22 August 2009

AM

Least: By 9:13am, I was once again stepping onto the Nankai local heading towards Mikunigaoka then Wakayama. At Mikunigaoka - the station without romanji - I was mildly rocked by the fact that I could recognise the people on the platform, the station masters and the women crowing from behind the counter of their sweets shop. This increasingly well worn path has seemingly also seared a neural pathway into my brain to ensure that there's no interesting surprises.

Most: Just after 10:00am, my train was clack clack clacking through rice paddies and market gardens. The rice had changed from a few weeks ago and was now nodding with the weight of seeds. It is somehow comforting to see the incredible uniformity of the rice crop and its perfect green -civilisation. I also noticed that a few leaves were beginning to turn yellow and orange as I got closer to Wakayama. I think that in  month or so, the scenery will be be interesting enough to take a photo of. Despite seeing the same people, smelling the same smells and hearing the same sounds on this trip every week, the landscape is different every time.

PM

Least: At about 12:35pm, I ran into the crushingly boring problem of forcing conversation out of an adult student for the next twenty minutes. We both knew that we had exhausted all available small talk and had covered the usuals - holidays (he had none), movies (he didn't watch movies), food (he was too busy to eat out). I went into autopilot and thought about my onigiri in the fridge.

Most: Some time around 11:00pm, Rosie and I blurred into Hokage in Shinsaibashi so that we could be pummelled by some Japanese grindcore. We spoke to some people in bands and a few guys who we knew from their tours to Australia. The bandroom was deep underground and the bar was even deeper. As we watched Corvus, it was interesting to see and hear a female vocalist destroy the crowd in such a male dominated scene. I took some red-soaked phone photos and caught the next band, only to be driven out by a techno-ish outfit and sheer drunkeness. It didn't help that we'd already been to Jokerman and Tee's Kitchen beforehand and that Toshi from Palm gave us extra drink cards on entry. A wild night.

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Food Note: At T's Kitchen, we stood at the bar and ordered several snackish meals including, freshly topped pizza, battered octopus, edemame, tuna sushimi and doteyaki. The last item was outstanding. The beef from the toughest and maybe unsaleable part of the beast had been cooked for hours and steeped in a sweet sweet sauce. I ordered two.

The Monster in the Pond vs Gatchaman

AM

Least: At around 9:25am I began thanking Japan for sparing me from political advertising on TV. Although the election is big news, it it restricted to the news-ish programs. The downside however, is the rash of shouting vans that smite us from all angles. Most often, the occupants are white-gloved and waving to nobody in particular in a cartoony manner. Another sign is the clutches of men strolling the streets chanting chants and carrying yellow banners. Despite these attempts though, there seems no danger of election fever. I'm yet to speak to someone who thinks that either of the big parties will make any difference.

Most: At 10:50am, Rosie and I pedalled north towards the flea market at the Shitennoji Temple. On the way we made a very brief detour to look at the Matsumushi Zuka that apparently is still shaded by an 800 year old tree. As it turns out we were travelling up part of the Kumano Road which people have been treading for over 1000 years. Amazing, but not quite as amazing as the 5th Century burial mound near our local station or the monster that used to lurk in Mandai Ike (above) until it was banished in the 6th Century. Wow.

PM

Least: At 3:58pm, an ongoing problem with our washing machine sucked the little interest that was left out of the third hour after twelve. It's been boringly misfiring since the morning when a man in billowing pants and a do-rag appeared in our window and insisted that we move the infernal machine indoors. Three days later we shifted it back to the freshly painted balcony. The washing machine was evidently unimpressed and has been slightly less than automatic ever since. One day the incessant beeping will send it over the edge and onto the tram tracks.



Most: By about 12:10pm, my neck was being seared as we strolled around the flea market at Shitennoji. The number of stalls was vast as was the range of items for sale. Some of the more notable pieces of clutter were, ivory carvings, prehistoric stone tools, dismembered samurai armour, ancient ceramics, pipes, a flintlock gun, endless tools, buttons, cooked entrails, tiny fish and unwearable clothes. I settled on a piece of rank nostalgia - a board game depicting what we called G-Force but was called 'Kagaku ninja tai Gatchaman' in Japan. It is still in its packet complete with dice. How the game is meant to be played I'll never know.