The Deafening Roars

Wednesday 28th October 2009

AM

Least: At 10:12am, I arrived at Gakken-Nara-Tomigaoka station earlier than expected. My long trusted Hyperdia had let me down. Although it predicted my arrival at 10:26am, I was left killing time for an extra fifteen minutes in a convenience store. I suspect that Hyperdia's new look has got something to do with the problem. It no longer looks as if it was designed in 1996, but it seems a little busier in terms of what is on the screen. Maybe I didn't check a box, or maybe the site just wanted to annoy me. Next time, I'll try its competitor who's name escapes me.

Most: Just after 11:10am, I was in a classroom discussing the vagueries of world food prices with three Japanese women. The discussion soon turned to rice and about Japan's crazy agricultural policies that stifle domestic production. One woman claimed that Hokkaido rice tasted the best was was hard to come by and very expensive. She also described a rice shortage when Japan had to import rice from the Phillipines. She said that the Filipino rice tasted disgusting - I really wonder if the taste horror was true or if it was simply psychological. An interesting discussion about a bland grain.

PM

Least: At close to 5:00pm, I was hurtling through a tunnel towards Osaka. The noise inside the carriage was deafening and the air pressure swung about wildly. I wonder what went wrong in the design process, for it must really irk passengers who have to suffer the noise daily. To make matters worse, the announcements on the train were louder than the tunnel noise. The shrill voice robotically announced each station in Japanese and then in a strangly accented English. At least I'll only have to suffer this on Wednesdays.

Most: Approaching 3:00pm, I was astonished to see a mother begin breasfeeding during the class. I was even more amazed to see a second mother giving her baby a feed. It is the first time that I have seen breastfeeding in Japan, and I didn't expect to see it in class. Despite having two four year olds, two mothers and two infants in the class, the lesson went smoothly. The babies appeared to be drunk on milk and barely stirred despite the racket being made by the other kids. The Japanese reserve starts young.

The Great Onigiri Mystery

AM

Least: At about 9:00am, the pneumatic wheelnut tools were chattering at full volume. With a steady stream of luxury cars keeping te mechanics busy at Ujita Auto Salon, there is always some disturbance coming through our window. Later in the day, after the cars have been tuned, the revving starts and occasionally, the receptionist calls the boys downstairs using an over-amplified intercom. It is amazing to see the number of cars rolling through that business, but the noise it makes is a crashing bore.

Most: Close to 11:59am, I found myself taking photos from Rosie's new Etsy site. Although I dare to suggest that some of the items are visually abhorrent, it doesn't seem to prevent people from buying them online. The most interesting outfit to date has been a mustardy suit that looks as if it was created for a science fiction show from the 1970s or 1980s (Buck Rogerss?). It will be interesting to see how quickly it sells and even more interesting to find out who buys it.



PM

Least: At 3:11pm, I sat in my usual Tuesday train carriage, an was greeted by some filthy looks from the man and woman sitting next to me. The man looked me up and down a few times and muttered something in Japanese, but it was clearly impolite. I noticed that despite his effeminate umbrella, he had home needled tattoos on his knuckles and hands. He was either a former gangster, or simply an arsehole - most likely the latter.

Most: Sometime after 1:00pm, I munched into one of the two onigiri that I had bought for lunch. Buying onigiri can be an adventure, especially when they do not that the picture of the delicious triangle's internal delights. Today, I was lucky. As I destroyed the snack, it became clear that I had bought an onigiri with perfectly rare white fish with a delicate soy-based dressing surrounding it. This was in stark contrast to its companion, which was what we in Australia would call, a rotten plum. Despite this set back, it was a vaguely interesting meal.

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Footnote: One of the delights of today, was relating the story of a 20 year old student who told me yesterday that the last present she bought was a Stitch costume for her cat. She said that although the outfit was a little small, her cat (named Stitch) looked great in it. 

The Long Way Home

Wednesday 23rd September 2009
AM

Least: At about 8:10am, the spectre of a long wait for the bus haunted us once more. The bus that was to take us down through the valley to Okutama was a good forty minutes away. As we sat on the side of the road, it became clear how dangerous the road actually was. Tens of motorbikes raced down the side of the mountain with little regard for the occasional oncoming traffic. While sitting on the side of the road, I spotted evidence that Japanese glamour had reached this backwater - a single false eyelash sat in the dirt, probably lost by a bogan schoolgirl on camp. After the bus finally arrived, the road back into town was almost unbearable. The road authorities had decided that the best way to slow traffic was to place too-high rumble strips on the road for most of the way down. Rosie barely made it to the bottom, with nausea lurking at every corner. One day that part of the trip may seem better in hindsight.

Most: By 10:00am, I was looking out the window of the local train between Okutama and Ome. The scenery was pretty incredible, including the carfully controlled cliffs on every mountain side. They had been covered in concrete to prevent rockfalls and made a small attempt to look real. It seems that almost every part of nature is under careful control in Japan - except earthquakes of course. The towns were interesting too. Some of the houses still retained their thatched roofs, and on others, the thatch could be seen under sheet iron. In the mountains it was a good relief from the intense industrial development that greys so much of Japan's landscape. I'm going to try to head for the hills more often.

PM

Least: Sometime after 1:30pm, I got sick of looking out the window of the Shinkansen to Osaka. Apart from the headache from the rushing landscape, there wasn't much to see. Despite the occasional glimpse of the Pacific, the trip was mostly characterised by tunnels and smoke spewing factories (see my photo right). By the time, I began snoring, the train had almost reached Nagoya.

Most: At about 3:30pm, the grimy nature of Osaka really hit me. Being amongst the mountains for only a short time had clearly had an interesting effect. The night beside the river gave me a new reference point with which to gauge the living conditions in such a massive and hardworking city. The pollution and humidity were instantly apparent, and people were obviously tired as they looked down the barrel of returning to work after three days off. To assist my rehabilitation into Osakan life, I cooked okonomiyaki and to my satisfaction it was fantastic.

The Relief of Birds

AM

Least: I woke this morning at about 7:30am to discover my ears ringing. The extreme lack of noise outside meant that the faint squeal from the inner reaches of my ears became the loudest sound in the room. The noise of big cities seems to hide and cause all kinds of ringing . The noise of industrial society need industrially loud music to drown it out. Five days a week I shut out the sound of the rails and endless announcements by listening to various variations of rock n roll. Maybe we could measure how close a town is to death by the ringing in ones ears?

Most: By 8:00ish am, some noise had crept into the backyard and relieved the ringing. The birds were browsing the grass for seeds or hapless insects in their daily struggle. Through the window, I could hear and see magpies, fairy wrens, crows, currawongs, satin bower birds (above) and the usual flying mice. As usual the magpies were busy bullying the other aviators out of anything of value. I've always been suspicious of magpies since they pecked blood out of my head when I was three. The crows here don't speak Japanese.

PM

Least: By almost 3:00pm, I had been the victim of several attacks of regional advertising. Universally terrible sound, lighting, acting and scripts set Gippsland television advertising apart from all others. A particularly appalling example repeatedly offended my senses today. During the ad for Bairnsdale Motel, we are given a demonstration to show that the rooms have enough room to literally 'swing a cat'. You are welcome to stay there for business or pleasure. It is not actually in Bairnsdale.

Most: Just after 12:00pm, I walked through the bush to to the old gold mining areas that boosted Omeo to former grandeur. I trundled past numerous examples of the environmental destruction of the past 140 odd years. Deeply eroded gullies, piles of river stones, weeds, decrepit fruit trees, a burnt-out pine plantation, ancient rubbish, dangerous shafts and tunnels make this well trodden track interesting. As kids we used to explore the old mines for hours with string and candles. It is amazing that the local environment is still reeling from the gold rush - but at least it made growing up in this town interesting.

The Shouting Van

AM

Least: Not long before 9:00am, I was dragged from my slumber by a the racket of a bespeakered van on the road below. While I cannot be sure of the shouting topic, I imagine that it was begging for unwanted electrical goods. Another shouting van asks for newspapers - I recognise this one because the volume is far lower and less cutting. Election time is going to be a shocker! The noisiest country in the world?

Most: Between about 10:20am and 10:45am, I had a hilarious time sifting through the readers' comments from the Courier Mail for my other blog. The level of hysteria, bitterness, conservatism, fear, paranoia, misinformation, barrow pedalling and thinly veiled racism is incredible. The poor spelling is another story altogether. The best comments always hang beneath stories on taxation, multicululturalism, law n order, global warming and the State government. Any comments that are thoughtful or show common sense are howled down. Comedy gold!

PM

Least: By about 3:00pm I was once again slightly lost on my way to the Hankyu-32 building in Umeda. I have never been able to get there by the same route twice. I repeated my circuitous route upon my return home.

Most: Just after 9:30pm, I reached the ground floor of the before-mentioned Hankyu-32 building in Umeda. After some tooing and froing I finally rediscovered the Midsuji subway station. The platform was filled with sweating, red-faced Tigers fans. The crushing train ride briefly quelled the flow of sweat down my chins. By the time I traipsed up to the Nankai platform in Namba, the salty flow had returned. On the train, a big 'n tall man drenched in sweat yawned into his fan. During the walk home, I saw that people had been watering the road again, and that the poodle stylist was still cutting and grooming. I arrived home to a cooked meal at approximately 10:18pm.