Takoyaki and Tuna

Saturday 31st October 2009

AM

Least: At 8:30am, as I packed my takoyaki costume into my back I was horrified to see that amound of hair it had extracted from my head. I'm no sure whether it is takoyaki-related heair loss or simple the accelerating onset of male-pattern baldness. One positive though, was that today would be the last time for a year that I would have to worry about a wretched costume. After five days, halloween was a crashing bore.

Most: At about 9:35am, I sat on my usual Saturday train in my usual Saturday carriage (number 7). Looking around, I saw all the usual suspects heading off to work in the sticks, but also a sixty-something salary man completely asleep in his seat. This is not unusual, however in the earlyish morning it was incredible to see how comfortable he had made himself. He had taken off his shoes and was laying tangled up on his seat with one of his be-socked perched on the window sill (see low res phone photo right). At least his slumber style guaranteed a seat to himself.

PM

Least: By 1:45pm, I was beginning to feel rage towards a temporary assistant that had been seen to my Wakayama school. She was comically officious and marched around like a woman on a mission. I think she'd forgotten that she was actually in a school full of kids trying to learning English in a fun way. The low point came when she entered my classroom to take the obligatory halloween photo and insisted on speaking in Japanese the whole time she graced our presence despite being a head trainer. This was especially galling after having to remind the kids so often that the room is English only. She was even ruder during my next class. A shocker.

Most: At about 9:00pm, Rosie and I entered a Sushi bar in a dirty street in Namba. The bar was bedecked with wrestling and sporting memorabilia with a suspicious number of celebrity autographs. The main feature of the bar was its selection of Tuna, a corpse of which was laying dismembered in a glass display cabinet. We ordered a platter of sashimi, sushi and tonkatsu of varous flavours. Upon hearing that Rosie liked tuna and tofu, the chef made a bizarre stack, which in its pinkness looked rather phallic. The food tasted incredible, epsecially the tuna sashimi of various grades and fattinesses and the beers kept appearing in front of us. When it came time to pay the bill, the chef said "ichiman, ichiman" to the cashier. The 10000yen bill was a shock and we reeled out the door unsure as to whether our extravagance was worth it. I suspect it wasn't - but the tuna was sensational.

The Trains of Wrath

 Saturday 26th September 2009
 

AM

Least: As I punched in at work at exactly 10:43am, I noticed that the same time had appeared no less that three times in the past month. It seems that my routine from my doorstep to work has become deeply entrenched. Even though I often browse in the Lawson convenience before I ride the lift to work on the  sixth floor the time somehow remains the same. Maybe next week, I should try the coffee at Mr Donut on the first floor.

Most: At 9:13am, I once again boarded the train at Tezukayama on my weekly pilrimage to Wakayama. Many of the same characters were sitting in the carriage and I decided to disappear using my Ipod and copy of Grapes of Wrath. Even though, I've crawled through the Steinbeck classic, today I just couldn'd put it down. As well as providing an extra layer of personal space protection, it is a cracking read. Even drifting down train lines in Japan, I still felt as if I was part of the book being pushed from place to place in search of work with wages ever lowering. I must've been on commuter autopilot because when I looked up I was stepping onto the platform at Wakayama.

PM

Least: At nearly 5:50pm the so-called Kishuji Rapid service speaker told everyone to leave the train at the impossibly remote Hineno station. I imagine that there had been some sort of trouble down the line towards Tennoji and that the delays meant a radical rethinking of train times and my trip home. I followed the hurrying crowd onto another platform, only to have to turn around a minute later to return to the platform from which the hundreds of people had just evacuated. To make the trip more boring, I underwent the indignity of catching a bluer than blue local train (above)  back to Mikunigaoka which meant stopping at every station. Despite the apparent efficency of the rail network, a blip can mean chaos.

Most: After 9:00pm, I sat down to watch the first episode of X-Files. It was amazing to see how dated the show was in terms of fashion and production. Even the SWAT team looked as if it had just left the set of the A-Team. Still, it was pretty enjoyable even after all this time even though it was weirdly streched on our huge screen. It will be a real journey to trawl back through every episode. Once again the internet saves the day.

The Hankai Tram Horror

Saturday 19 September

AM

Least: At about 10:45am, I arrived at my faraway school in Wakayama to discover that my first task was going to be photocopying sheets for my two kids' classes. To compound my groaning was the fact that my usually empty room was being occupied by another lesson. I had no hope of preparing early to give my self a short break later in the day. If only the upper echelons of the company would send down an extra staff member to help the days run more smoothly.

Most: By 10:15am, my train was hurtling down the hills in to Wakayama. Some of the rice crops had been recently harvested and bushels of rice were hanging on wooden frames waiting for collection. In some of the fields, the second crop had begun to sprout amongst the dot-matrix like stubble. Occasionally, wafts of smoke from burning grass came through the train giving a hint of Japanese farming. It will be interesting to see how the farms change as winter approaches.

PM

Least: Just after 7:00pm, I stood on the Hankai tram, a boring reality precipitated by missing my stop at Mikunigaoka. For several minutes, passengers felt it necessary to barge past, knocking me with their bags and sun umbrellas. I'm beginning to think that the ruthless quest for a skerrick of personal time and a few less seconds communting is at its worst on the tram. The trams hideous noise and the constant buzzing as people get aboard doesn't help either. A thoroughly enraging experience once again starring the Hankai tram.

Most: At 8:10pm, Rosie and I arrived at the Dakokucho chapter of Torikizoku for a birthday bash for Jack Carter. The meal was all-you-can-eat and drink for a couple of hours. The chicken and it's organs were delicious and plentiful. I drank beer and plum brandy. Sometime after ten, a large group of Japanese sat down in at the tables next to us. The raucous group turned out to be an amateur acting troup. Their latest stage production was a science fiction play. One patricularly muscle-ful fellow insisted on taking his shirt off until the waitress gave him an earful. By the end of the night the streets were nothing other than a blur of colourful light.

Bogies at Nine O'Clock

Saturday 12 September 2009

AM

Least: Just after 9:30am, I boarded the JR Rapid at Mikunigaoka and sat in a seat reserved for people with ailments. This particular seat is at the rear of the carriage and is located directly above the bogies that roll the train to Wakayama. I have a faint memory of my Grandfather saying that you should never sit atop the train wheels because the ride is too rough. My half-hour experience between Mikunigaoka and Hineno proved this theory correct. I felt every bend, join and undulation of the train track, which at a glance looks futuristically smooth. As the train lurched incessantly, I was reminded of my sore neck and by the end of the trip its weakness had turned me into some kind of bobblehead. Thankfully I didn't experience nausea, despite the wild ride and the faintish smell of the toilets.

Most: At close to 8:10am, I peered out my kitchen window to see a filthy and wet pidgeon attempting to preen itself. The wetness of the pigeon told me that it was or had been raining outside. August seemed to be particularly dry and I was hoping for rain to wash summer down the drain. This morning, a constant drizzle freshened the streets, trees and gardens. Nearly an hour later, walking toward the station, I could actually smell the pine-ish fragrance of the gardens that grace the yards of the stinking rich. I also thought that the rain wold keep some of the Wakayama day-trippers off my morning train and free up some seats (see above). Thankfully, the day-trippers stayed home and I got to sit down.

PM

Least: Sometime after 5:37pm as my train left Wakayama station, I witnessed the ruthless musical chairs of the Kishuji Rapid. Because people are so desparate to sit alone, whenever a seat becomes available there is an undignified scramble to fill it. As people left the train at both Musota and Kii stations, people jumped to their feet to escape the horror of sitting next to another human being. The disappointment on people's faces when they just missed their chance at happiness was all too apparent and some of them had to return to their seats - the horror, the horror. I suppose it is forgivable given that personal in Japan is as such a premium but I'm sure that it doesn't need to be so cut-throat.

Most: Pretty close to 8:30pm, I walked into T's kitchen to relieve the agony of my hunger. After inhaling some doteyaki, octopus and several small glasses of beer, I came to the conclusion that I needed something more. A few days ago a student told me about the autumn culinary delight sanma, which is a longish silver fish a lot like a sardine which is grilled whole. T's Kitchen had one waiting for me. I pointed to the dead fish through the window of the counter and watched it grill. The final result was a very simple dish with some grated daikon and a cumquat. It was delicious and was not encumbered by the smaller bones which were edible. After my mauling, all that was left was the a cartoonish plate with the head, some stomach contents and a spine remaining. My next challenge will be to recreate the fishy experience at home in our fishgrill. Thanks T.

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.

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.

___________________
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.

Tezukayama-Wakayama-Tezukayama-Juso-Shinsaibashi

AM

Least: Soon after 10:05am as I blurred toward Wakayama city, I concluded that the train trip was becoming the least interesting part of my morning. The scenery, the people protecting seats, the scent of the toilet, the nervous couples, the father drinking beer, the pivoting conductor, the onions hanging in the sheds, the rice paddies, the tunnels, the filthy rivers, the nationalist van, the company dormitories, the ageing express trains, the guy missing his stop and the sleeping office girls all make an appearance every Saturday and today began fading into the background static of a long commute to work.

Most: At 7:20am, I remembered that by some small miracle, it was casual day at work. The drones' clothes of suit-pants, a shirt, tie and black shoes could take a day off. At work, I felt and looked human, rather than like a lightly detailed character in a diagram of an office. I was amazed to feel such a strong change simply through a small change of routine in a country full of routines.

PM

Least: Arriving home at close to 6:30pm, it became obvious that I would have time to sit and relax for a minute. Rosie and I were scheduled to meet some acquaintances somewhere underground at 7:00pm. We found them and walked around for 40 minutes looking for a place to eat (see foodnote below).

Most: Some time around 9:40pm, we arrived at a housewarming party at a big white building, past the Mos Burger and Family Mart, past the overpass in Juso. Twenty-five or thirty people were crammed into the flat for a night of drunken revelry. My giant cans of The Premium Malts were just about empty when Rosie began waving at the bicycle police from the 9th Floor Balcony. Minutes later they were knocking on the door. I assume they told the hosts that the party was too noisy and un-Japanese. 10 minutes late were were out, crawling towards Shinsaibashi. I forgot my umbrella.

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Foodnote:


Lowlight: By pointing randomly to the menu I ordered a rice slurry, topped with a raw egg and slivers of nori. Incredibly punishing but at least it was hot.

Empathy vs Sympathy

AM

Least: I stepped onto the JR Rapid to Hineno to find that precisely every second seat was taken up by someone's bag. There were people standing with only half the seats filled. Whats wrong with people? Half of the people are too rude to want to sit next to another human being and the other half are too polite to take a seat!

Most: While hurtling down to Wakayama I thumbed the pages of Paul Auster's Oracle Night. I was gripped by the prospects the story offered. How would Bowen get out of his booky tomb? Who robbed Sid n Grace? What the hell was Mr. Chang up to? Some lustre in a lacklustre morning.

PM

Least: Sometime between 5.30 and 6.15 I finished Oracle Night after a 4 or 5 day stint. I was disappointed to find that very few of the questions I had at 10.00am were satifactorily resolved. A real let down - the review in the link is spot on - a bad bood by a good author.

Most: Between 12.15 and 12:55 I was with a student who wanted to know about the etymology of the words emapathy and sympathy. Why couldn't impathy be a word? As it turns out the work emapthy was created not long after the turn of last century after a translation of the German 'Einfuhlung'. The word Empathize was coined around 1924 to assist with a theory of art appreciation.