Don't Shit on the Chair

In an episode of hilarity, my Japanese Teacher of English decided to correct the students who were pronouncing the word "sit" as "shit". Not only did she correct them, she told them what "shit" meant in English, explained the various usages, and then provided example sentences such as "Don't shit on the chair", "Please shit next to me", and "You can shit over there".

Needless to say, this had the class of nine 13 year olds in fits.

What do they need me at school for?

Searching for Satori

Nearly two years I've been here, and I've not taken up a hobby or any extra-curricular activities.

I'd love to learn to snowboard, play taiko, and take up Japanese calligraphy, but I've gone one step further and am now learning to reach enlightenment.

Fukui Sensei, the Niimi City librarian who doubles as a Buddhist priest at a nearby a Rinzai Sect temple in Shimogumatani has been kind enough to take us on as zazen students. I think it'll be a long time before I get to a level of concentration anywhere near samadhi.

And yes, that is a big wooden stick he's holding. It's called a keisaku and is used to aid concentration.

Bums an' All

I wrote about it last year, so won't bore you with the details again. Men in fundoshi killing each other for lucky sticks. And this year, somebody actually died. Are they after the luck or the money that goes with them?

All I'll say is this year, it rained non-stop. I got soaked to the skin, and spent the entire night and most of the next day out and about in the city without getting my underwear dry by the time I got back to Niimi. I met so many Welsh people....

T'was a good night though. Who's arse is this?

I Rub You

Nothing but an email from Laos this year.

The Big O

What started out as a mission to Osaka to see a concert on a Thursday night ended up as a four night non-stop binge on all things bright lights big city, the likes of which we don't get in Niimi.

There were the bars, izakayas, clubs, Subways and Wendy's', a couple of sights, some shopping, and of course, Tool.

I've never seen a buzz-kill like the Japanese method of entering a concert. Queued in lines dictated by ticket numbers, crowds were quietly herded through a thorough security check and forced to pay 500 yen for a drink. Oh, I lied. An even bigger buzz-kill was the crowd itself which stood stock still and silent; salary men in suits, teen punks, and all. The only shouting came from the other foreigners in the audience, who were shushed by Japanese patrons. I had a good time though, as I could see more than just the light show, for a change.

I opted to go back to the 1,000 yen a night room in Imamiya, which makes everyone else legends in their own lunchtimes for staying up all night and making it to the Big Aquarium and Big Imax, next to the Big Ferris Wheel, while horrendously hungover.

Big Ferris Wheel.

Big Aquarium.Something strange afoot in the fish tank.The most forlorn-looking duck I've ever seen.Prehistoric-looking fish with a skin like carved steel.Namakemono - sloth!Big lizard.Friends.Neighbours.All hail the Crab King.

The weird manbo, mola mola, sunfish or whatever you want to call it.

And the star attractions, a huge manta ray and nurse shark.

While everyone else was napping, I walked all the way to DenDen Town, Osaka's version of electronic goods paradise. On the way there I passed through Fountain Gate, an empty shopping complex complete with roller coaster.

I also got my first look at Tsutengaku. The tower was first built in 1912. I was surprised to learn that there was a Luna Park here until 1923, having lived near Luna Park in Melbourne.

After trying but miserably failing to find a shop selling "Candy Girl" (which I'd recently read about and just wanted to see in real life), I walked all the way home to join in on the nomihodai, Namba, Dotombori madness.

The next morning was a slow one starting with watching the kids practice their various dance moves in the OCAT plaza followed by brunch and people watching at Subway. Finally we ended up in Amerika Mura for more people watching and shopping.

In Amerika Mura, they have robots to hold the street lights.

And they have far out fashions. These people are mistakenly labelled "fruits" although I think that was because they were on the cover of a fashion book of the same name. You're not supposed to talk about it, but leaving a day-glo sign on the open door is okay.There is actually a little bit of Americana in Amerika Mura.And some interesting bars.

After shopping we headed back down to Dotombori, joining the endless pedestrian sea, ending up in The Hubb for happy hour and drinks with Norwegians on stop-overs.

As our time was nearly up, we took our last day easy and went to the skygarden observatory.We were back to our new hostel early, and put on a movie to watch in our room. Not the best idea seeing as the walls were literally paper thin and a cough could be heard in the next room. The things that went bump in the night very loudly probably didn't help either.

In any case, the next morning, we were three minutes late for our bus back to Niimi, and it being a public holiday, I had to negotiate hard to get us all back home before work the following day.

I'm done now, you can go.

Do you play ski?

The distinct absence of snow this winter has meant putting my plans of snowboard domination on hold. My Japanese friends took me to Kenmin no Mori ski slope, in Hiroshima Prefecture, and unfortunately no snowboarders were allowed.
By the time we reached the slopes after a long walk up from the car park, we realised we'd bypassed the ski rental shop. As I was the only one who needed to rent skis (my boots having been borrowed), my friend Masa accompanied me back down the hill to the shop. In an absolutely classic piece of misunderstanding, the guy behind the counters' first words in response to Masa's statement "She needs some skis" were "what size shoe is your wife?". Masa immediately went red and responded "Iie, chigaimasu", "No, that's not the case". The guy behind the counter looked mortified and an uneasy silence ensued, broken by me cracking up laughing. I called Masa Dannasan, or husband, for the rest of the day, while he alternated between calling me Okusan, or wife, and marshmellow (thank you, crappy ski suit.)

There were four different slopes to choose from, so I spent the majority of my day learning "how to look look cool while coming to a short stop" on the alpine course. And by the end of the day I was speeding to a halt, snow spraying everywhere, without keeling over.

Still, it was disheartening to see three year olds speed past without even having poles for just in case.

Daaaaaaay tripppaaaaa!

Our fearless Momotaro enjoys a good view and so do I.
Of I went to climb Washuzan in Kojima, this time with some others, to get a good view. Vasco's looking in the right direction.
And there it is, the Seto-Ohashi.
For me, the highlight of the day wasn't the view, which I'd seen before, but the look on an woman's face when two strapping foreign lads lifted her car up to dislodge a concrete flag holder she'd run over. Classic.