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 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.