Tuesday, August 25, 2009

So Time

Wild times rocked wind shores of coastline. Right before my eyes taste sleep the winter of the noon sets in and mother closes her eyes I tell you these things. I returned from My Aizu Homestay and learned that while I was away another passed on. Aizu is known for its soba and so I figured he probably wanted to get to Japan and taste soba with me some way. My family was great. They are a kind welcoming family with a desire to eventually move to NewZealand. The father knows the English language quite well and owns his own taxi company. Their children were cute as all are and Kiko the wife was the yoga loving ski instructor that I hope to go skiing with this winter. They made homemade Umeshu (Plum Wine) which was dangerous the first night after wonderful Sushi. After my family became aware of my love for all food they were keen to test me I think. The second night I was offered namono......... which hops when it's alive and is really good for the diet of a pregnant woman. I ate it. Along with Basashi which originally gallops and some other dishes. The barbeque was very good and much food was cooked over the host fathers Webber Grill, which he told me he paid a fortune for and was really proud of. I roasted marshmallows as well. Time crosses the moments of eternity like a dove spreading her wings. That's what living by the sea is like. I had my first day of class today. They are so formal here in everything they do. It is very respectable. Lunch with the kids was great. Everything was so communal. No one eats until everyone is seated and everything is saved and recycled perfectly. All the kids clean there school as well. Every morning I have to bow about 30 times to say good morning to all the kids. I probably look like a big peacock. It really does make me dizzy sometimes. Here's some pictures. I now go to bed. Last night I went to a neighboring city to find dental floss. That is an item in Japan that requires a specialized store. "ohh dental floss well you have to go to big city for that" I waited for the train and watched spiders spin their webs. It was very entertaining. There are millions of them in Japan. You are not allowed to be afraid of spiders in Japan. they are not dangerous, but look it and I'm not sticking my business in their web to find out. They're huge. They know exactly the head length to put their webs. I watch all the Japanese people get off the trains and somehow the spiders keep their webs intact. I however, must duck. And that is how I came to watching spiders spin their webs. I also had a long time to wait for my next train.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

      It was upon this very hour upon this very time that the story came back to him and his hands moved of their own accord like the automatic piano in western movies that plays an automatic melody in perfect lines. And so it occurred and the desk showed him where his hands should be. I tell you these many things he said because there is purpose of why I write. I want to get my story out, but I don’t have the voice to let me shout. The words ran along at a great pace this time and overflows filled the now. The time was here the here was now and that was the end of town. A shadow sat on my desk, a beautiful shadow changing with the time of day. At four it was on the left of my desk and slowly it was moving the other way. The direction you may ask was right as the clock does go.

The remains caught in the complexity of interesting favorites where photosynthetic polymers cause changes in Earths atmosphere was were these events were to occur. It was why green stays with perfect design that I write so eloquently. What if we could write for endless time with endless meaning, never taking a break. Our hands would be quite strong don’t you think. How many taps on a keyboard can a computer take.  Is it as many as what are required by the manufacturer? Maybe we should measure the taps on the keyboard by how many books can be typed on them. “Well that there contains the whole story of All Quiet On The Western Front, yesm a book of quite a large magnitude only made larger by the many revisions to make it so. A hot potato is exactly that, baked for a certain amount of minutes at a certain number of degrees and then put to rest for consumption. Why has the game been devised then? Who had the crazy idea to do so and especially with such temperature and such a strange object?

What if I get tired of writing asked the man and the desk so calmly replied. Well then do what you must and do what you do for that means that I also need time. For a story is such where truths are made and made they have to be. In order to make we must first learn how to live so we can represent and replicate clearly. So the man who’s hands were tired so gave up on the adventure for today and the table that caused the mans hands to write sympathized and called it a day. Come back tomorrow he said in a voice like the air that is understandable only by some. And the man agreed and they left the need to go on at another time

A Story To Start

What led him to choose the path he choose to lead. What force was beneath him that allowed the snap of the fingers within his hands. The air con blew around him, the whimpering of air streaming through an endless void. What was he doing,? where was he going? What was this perpetual journey he had set out on? What was his past telling him? Why were his thoughts coming in fast like the wind on an endless journey? He knew why and he knew when, but somehow he knew neither of them. Was chocolate his motivator to keep the key board typing and his fingers thinking, was that why he was driven to write? Or was it something deeper, something altogether different? It was a crazy force that spun his mind and didn’t tell him what direction he was going. It was the camera lens behind the camera that sneaks views into picture. It was his simple joy to weave words together like the waves of the ocean overlapping one another on their way to a distant shore. He liked the way that thought could be put together with superfluous flow and how the mind could conjure this creation. It was an animalistic desire to do this. It quenched some deep longing in his soul. He loved language for the same reason. The thoughts could be generated by flips of the tongue that rhymed to a beat unimaginable to the thoughts surrounding them. Yet the words were soft like the wind on the sea or the trees on a mountain, ancient in their discourse, warm in their tone. Would he know no end to his existence? Was time a mere representation of space crammed with purpose? That is what is mind thought up everyday of every hour, and yet there was joy in those hours of purpose. He liked freezing images sending them to the world letting others observe. The mere sunset was something of a snowflake where each time was a different dance to a different beat. There was temptation and oblivion to escape from. He sat on a couch for many hours in silence except for the humming of ticks on clock that strung character into the room. There was a characteristic about the way his eyes blinked that hinted at a normality in his thinking. The key of his thinking was not the think. For thinking too much constantly drove him into a series of complex workings of the human mind, which were hard to decipher at best. It was by doing these simple ramblings that he was able to free his mind and let the supreme work on their own. It was at these times that life lingered on linguistics and languished the lamentable lines of disintegration. How had he come upon these words? What was his fascination with the serenity or everyday speech? What mind would dock such things in discernable grace and leave the cupboard open for more paintings.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

So coming back to Japan was really more the result of a pull rather then that of a push. I remember being young and having to do a report on Japan. I spent many nights working on the project. I believe that we where given a country to choose and being half Japanese I wanted to research the place where my ancestors came from. I remember seeing the the flag and seeing the red sun in the middle of it. I later came to learn that Japan was "Land Of The Rising Sun" from then on I was intrigued. I've been drawn to Japan since my eyes first knew of some mystery in my existence.... some force, which made me feel different, made me "stand out... not fit in"... That was the quote that so eloquently described our high school graduating class of 2004. I guess the draw to Japan started out as a simple desire. It's funny because now that I'm here I realize that desire was really part of an identity crisis. Don't feel bad. I know who I am. I am very happy! I smile many times everyday. My friends back home though would see me do little things.... like the way that a flashlight goes with me everywhere, or my tendency to always bring I giant backpack to go on a small trip into the mountains. I end up having food and clothes for everyone. They often remark "You're so Japanese!" I imagine what movies can tell me and what I've seen upon first embarking to Japan when I was just out of middle school when they say these things. I must've been about 17 when I stepped off the plane and first saw Japan. Kyoto and then Katsuyama with it's beautiful rice fields and ancient temples. The movie in my head had gotten it correctly and by simply striking a gong I could see my great grandfather working in rice field with the red sun and the dreams that were in his head. "Ohh what crazy dreams you had great grandfather" There was a twinkle in his eye when he worked those fields on those days. Maybe Japan seemed too small for him.
      So now here I am with Bob and Japan keeping me company as I write and write. At this point I am very keen to buy a surfboard. I have just recently signed up to the local pool. 2 days ago I called my Supervisor to see when we were doing something that I knew had to do with town culture. "ohh Johnnn eeeeeto. ano 3 moutiru ok.. anooo guitar shimasu" "hi" and "hi" I was being picked up at 3. We arrived at the festival and there were kind men smoking and adjusting lights. There was also a tower built on the spot right by the procession of smoking, smiling, men. Later we all cooked Wild Boar on a hot grill and stood around with our chopsticks flipping the meat until it was ready to eat, fingers dodging flames... it was cultural Japanese hot potato. It was a lovely way to eat dinner. They asked me to drink lots of beer too. I soon left my glass full and escaped. My supervisor apparently plays the Japanese Flute and his son plays the Taiko drum. They are very important to the city for this reason. It is a very important skill to know how to properly play the Taiko drum. After the festival all member leaders attended a 2 hour meeting to discuss how my supervisors son played the Taiko drum. He had good technique apparently, but needed to be more forceful. Ahhhhh I said and continued to eat fish and rice. I teach English every Friday to my supervisor's family. It is a pleasure.
    So I have just finished a giant beach party. This previous weekend all teachers got together at at a wonderful beach just south of me and shared stories. We are all going through similar experiences. It is amazing how similar our lives are in some respects. We have a commonality. Everybody has a good heart. The waves were beautiful. I arrived at the beach at 10 am maybe. The sun comes up at 4 so who knows. I went around the beach asking how much it was to buy a surfboard and where I could buy a surfboard in Japanese. Some passers by let me borrow their surfboards and go out on the waves. They were very nice. They hadn't even surfed yet all I was asking was where to buy a surfboard. The waves were fun. It was enjoyable to be on a surfboard once again. Japanese people are very nice. That night I met some other teachers who were in my situation... drawn to Japan... searching for something. We all love speaking the Japanese Language. It is a wonderful commonality. It was one of the most amazing things I encountered. I saw a person I had not met yet. I went up and said how are you. She had a blank look on her face and replied "Konichi wa" I replied back "Konichi wa" and we spoke in Japanese together for a while. She was Russian and knew Japanese not English! she didn't know any English. We both knew Japanese... our lives we shared.
     So now I close this piece. The beach party lasted into the next day. I saw a beautiful sunrise over an ocean. That is a fantastic sunrise to see every time. Waves could be heard lapping as dreaming travelers welcomed another morning, a white sandy beach with sea shells stretched into the sea.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

So I'm sitting in my house the rain tiptoes down slowly outside. There was a small Earthquake again tonight. I say again because there was one couple of nights ago. There is nothing to worry about, but it sure lets me know, puts my human into perspective. There was a traditional festival I attended over the weekend. I linked up with some fellow Alts and together we danced down the streets with the rest of Japan for the Iwaki Celebration. It was a workout. We all dressed up in Hapi's (traditional ware) and tried to learn the dance. It is interesting living alone. Today after returning to my house I decided to go see if I could find the beach. It was a beautiful Sunday and the rice fields danced to the old men and women working in them. Yes I was in Japan. I did find the beach and gosh darn it there is surfing, but I didn't bring money to rent a surfboard... oh well next time. I biked around for the afternoon taking in the sights and ended up finding another beach where I might be able to surf. I think I'm not sure, but from what I can discern is that the surfing season is only 1 month a year. Hopefully I'm wrong, but we will see. As I was saying living alone is interesting... I mean really alone. I'm alone in the house, but now the whole town says foreign words as well. Actually I have some plants next to me and there keeping me company. I will name them right now. Bob and Japan. It's nice to have something green to keep you company. Having the sea close by gives a sense of freedom as well.  My Japanese is improving by the day. Although its still quite difficult to do simple things like operate the laundry machine with Japanese labels, or figure where the train goes. It's back and forth. Sometimes I think to myself ohhhh I just want this to be in English. And then sometimes I love the Japanese experience, the maze the puzzle, the invention. I've actually spoken quite a bit of English lately. I'm definitely in a different world here. Whewwy! The kids I'm excited to teach. The little ones are all really awwwwww. That's what I say a lot during the day. In fact that is what Japan is. It's a cute town. The cars, the buses, the little old people everything. At the same time there is a gong sounding in the distance which gives a whole different interpretation.. a deep calling for respect. Tomorrow it's an early morning gotta be up to go to Fukushima City. Will get pictures soon. I've been taking them just having compatibility issues.

Friday, August 7, 2009

file:///Users/johnhatanaka/Pictures/iPhoto%20Library/Originals/1980/Jan%201,%201980_3/IMG_1541.JPG

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

In Japan?

I have now been in Japan for 8 days. I`m getting settled here in the town of Naraha. I`m right by the sea and yet, not far from skiing. Upon arriving in Tokyo little did I know that I would soon be encountering 800 teachers like myself from around the world going through this same journey. Tokyo seemed to be a fantasy. There we were 31 floors up in the nicest hotel I`ve ever stayed in overlooking Tokyo lights. It was a teachers Ideas Festival. Everyday we would get up and go to different clinics they had set up for us. There was breakfast and lunch provided for us and at night we partied. I don`t think I remember being so tired in my life, yet there was a smile on my face as I closed my eyes every night to go to sleep. Naraha Machi is a 180 degree turn form the high energy of Tokyo City, yet still everyday just as new. On just this past Wednesday a bus pulled up to Koriyama City and 25 or so disheveled foreigners greeted the afternoon sun. I was one of them and I remember there was tension in the air. ``What were we stepping into?`` ``What were we Doing?`` ``This is Fun!`` I knew we were ``not in Kansas anymore`` when my supervisor and I met for the first time and after I said my introduction I Said ``do you know English`` and he said ``eeeeeettoooo``. On the car ride to my final destination we both tried conversation. I quickly relearned the Japanese that I had forgotten and he caught onto some English quickly so by the time we reached the small, cute town of Naraha I knew where I was staying for the night....right and left quite confidently in Japanese. He knew that I had good skiing in my town back home...... That I loved Japanese food.........and that I was excited to teach. Actually we exchanged quite a bit, but I still remember it being quite hard and that my tired brain hurt form thinking. I remember falling asleep in a Japanese style hotel that night feeling that I was in some surreal life and then I feel asleep. So now as I write this to you I have been here for aweek. The reason I am still staying in this hotel is because my room is not yet ready. I`m still figuring out my role in the the small town of Naraha. The Sea rolls out clear to my left and I sense it`s great space of freedom and possiblity. The air is fresh and I think my half Japanese Half German person is leaning back towards a rolling red sun. As abnormal as I feel my feet sense familiar soil and the feet are quite good at sensing such things.

Blank White Paper

Though You Always See What Can be Right
Though The Soul Is One Within Your Time
I`ll Rock To You Baby Because I Always Want To See The Way You Fly
I Was Walking On The Shore To Show
All The Places I Would Choose To Go
It`s The Laps Of The Waves And The Simmering Of The Sea That Lets You Know
When You`re In My Arms And I Can Tell
When I Write On Your Back And I Spell
It`s The Pictures Of The Sun The Places I Never Want To Kill

You See It Though You Never Have To Say
Here I Am Staring Up At The Day
We Are Living Today
Every Scene Is Just Another Flip Of The Page

Now The Song Is Slowing Towards The Beat
The Melody Of The Words Will Come And Meet
It`ll Never Match The Rhythm You Have Inside Your Feet

You See It Though You Never Have To Say
Here I Am Staring Up At The Day
We Are Living Today
Every Scene Is Just Another Flip Of The Page