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The Anatomy of a Human Double-Stuf Oreo

The title of this post was going to be “A Heart and Soul Torn in Two” – but holy wow does that sound way too dramatic. Of course, a reasonable person is probably now wondering what on earth I’m going to write about that overlaps between those two titles…

I mostly write about Japan in this blog, and there’s probably still going to be a healthy helping of such talk this time. After all, I’m writing this post somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, somewhere between Seattle and Tokyo. (In a first-class seat, no less – one of my earlier posts can probably sum up that experience pretty well).

But the U.S. has also got a large role to play here – I am, after all, returning from a three-week trip to my home country, visiting for the first time in over four years. I don’t think leaving has ever been so difficult, not in the least because my friends and family pandered to my every whim pretty much the whole time I was there. But another reason it was difficult was because I came to the simultaneously uncomfortable but also enlightening realization that I’m never going to feel quite complete as a person unless both my original home and my new home have some part in my life.

JETs, ALTs, and other expats who’ve in Japan will understand completely, I think. But I also think this feeling would be understood by anybody who has ever found themselves referring to two or more different places when they speak or write sentences that has the word “home” in it.

Some of you know that since my last post, almost two years ago, I now live and work in a different part of Japan, Shizuoka. (Picture where you’d need to be standing to take a majestic picture of Mt. Fuji. I’m there.) I’m not going to comment on the wisdom of hiring me to teach an English class – my school made that choice and now they’re stuck with me – but one of the things we talk about in my class in the subtlety of connotation. Most words are not neutral entities – the best ones evoke feeling, sights, smells, memories… Consider the difference between referring to your “house” and your “home” and you’ll have a good idea what I mean (and without having to listen to me talk about for 30 minutes, unlike my poor students).

But to get back to my point – I have found myself using the word “home” when referencing Winchester, Lexington, Satsumasendai, and now Numazu. There is a part of myself in the people, places, and memories of all of those cities, just waiting to be rediscovered and rekindled at any time. That also means that I often find myself thinking of those places when times are tough, or I feel unsure or confused. Despite my best efforts, I’ve become something of a “we do this way in America…” guy when I’m in Japan and a “we do it this way in Japan” guy when I’m in the U.S. (It’s not the worst guy or gal to be, you just gotta make sure your audience is a receptive one when you’re making the comparisons.)

But back to my very first point – with spiritual investment in so many places, it was easy for me to go to the analogy of being torn, split, or divided. And that analogy isn’t really wrong but it’s not the whole truth either. I’m really the same person no matter where I am, but with two different cultures of experiences within me, regardless of where I physically am, I’m a better, sweeter, and (not coincidentally) bigger cookie. Because living abroad and immersing yourself in another culture not only enables you learn about that culture, but also fosters an appreciation for your own culture that, quite frankly, is impossible if you’ve never existed outside it for a while.

After writing this post more than a month ago, it’s been hanging out in my drafts without seeing the light of day… so rather than letting it continue to languish, I’ll just abruptly cut it off and post it! Enjoy.

Word Crimes

“When in doubt, quote Weird Al Yankovic.” – probably no one. Though I’ll admit the idea that there’s a Weird Al song relevant to any situation held some sway in my middle school years. Though I resent it when someone implies that Weird Al is something that one “grows out of”, I don’t listen to him much these days. Though with all of the long trips to far-flung, inaka (rural) schools here, I wouldn’t mind a bit of company for the drive. Ron White, Jim Gaffigan, and the Piano Guys have been shouldering the load so far, so if you have any suggestions, let me know.

While contrite is not a color that I prefer to wear often, there will be shades of it in what I’m about to say. The first two courses of my ESL endorsement went smoothly: lots of educational pedagogy (done it) and cultural responsiveness (done it) had me thinking that I’d glide through the endorsement coursework with the ease and grace of a penguin in water. The next class for me was introductory linguistics, which I’m struggling through with the ease and grace of a penguin on land. That is to say, bumpy, awkward, and amusing for anyone who is watching. What is this stuff?!? It’s trying to quantify words. It’s like word math! Ugh. Anyway, I begrudgingly offer some professional respect to my former ELA colleagues – I imagine you hacked through even more of this metaphorical vine-choked jungle than I did. Sidenote: professional respect from me has no cash value.

I’ve never been shy about flying my nerd flag, so let me detour for a second to highly recommend Netflix’s The Queen’s Gambit. Yoshino and I watched it over the past couple of weeks, and it was one of the best dramas I’ve watched in years. Yes, it helps that Anya Taylor-Joy is quite nice to look at, but it’s also a really good story and has just enough chess talk to tap into the interest of those who have ever enjoyed it, while not scaring anyone else away. I’m not sure how long it’ll last, but I’ve actually started playing around with some computer chess and learning more about the current chess scene (Magnus Carlsen is a badass), and I imagine the drama has done a lot to popularize chess. It’s also really cool to pick up on some of the location references (Beth, the main character, grows up in Lexington) – seeing fictional versions of Henry Clay High School, downtown Lexington and hearing references to New Circle Road and the Herald-Leader. I’ve heard that it’s a novel was well, so I’m hoping to read it soon. I love video games and movies, sure, but it’s also nice to be inspired to return to such “analog” pastimes as chess, writing, and reading for pleasure.

I’ve been eating really well lately! Not only have I found a few more good burg places (seriously, I think I could make a Kagoshima Burger Week at this point), but the bakery in the local train station has some legit Western-style cinnamon rolls. These are big ‘uns, with lots of cinnamon, icing, and nuts. Seriously, I looked in my phone, realized I didn’t have a picture of one, and got quite upset – until I realized that meant I needed to buy another one to show here. Win-win! I have been a little disappointed not to see the crazy flavored Cokes this year – usually this is the time for apple, which is pretty OK. Someone told me COVID-19 affected the flavored Cokes, but I don’t see too much connection there.

So, this post was written a week ago, but I actually waited for a photo of the cinnamon buns before posting it. Worth it! 😊

Cinnamon buns of glory.
The egg vending machine Yoshi and I found in the middle of nowhere. After 300 yen and cacophony of gear turning and screeching…
… I kid you not. Some of the best eggs I’ve ever eaten.
Newest burger place. Frozen fries, but… really good beef.
Yeah, I’m enjoying it.
Same burger, cuter consumer.

As this is likely to be my last post before the holidays, I want to wish everyone a cozy, pleasant, and relaxing holiday season. No matter which holiday you celebrate, my advice is – take a moment to block out the negative and focus instead on the big and small things for which we are blessed. Some things are already perfect just the way they are. As for the everything else, well, we have a better chance of effecting important, meaningful change starting from that point of view, anyway.

Polar Bear Hibernation

Well, I was all set to compare myself to a polar bear, emerging from hibernation after a 6-month absence from my blog. Problem is, I did a quick Google search and learned that polar bears don’t actually hibernate. So, I guess the comparison is only apt in terms of my size, whiteness, preference for the cold, and my likeness being used in soft drink commercials. (One of those things is less true than the others).

If the smile looked forced, it’s because I was really hungry…
…but the wait was worth it! (Even though you have to catch your noodles before eating them).
Fountain in a koi pond.
At the Beetles cafe. Randomly found in the Japanese countryside…?!?
Slightly sweet cooked pork on rice. Yes, please.
Burg in Kamou!
I’m ready to leave, if it’s not obvious…
“Did you take a picture?” “Delete that”.
Tofu ice cream. Weird,
Pre-food.
At my new school in Izumi.
Yoda at Noda!

A lot of those pictures are going to look out of season… because they are. Kagoshima is a sweat-blasted hellscape during the summer months, and it’s only in November does the climate finally begin to favor polar bears such as myself.

There’s been plenty going on in these few months, though as usual I feel no obligation to try to recall all of it. I guess the biggest work change is that I’ve started working at new school – due to the COVID-19 travel restrictions, new ALTs aren’t coming in, but current ones are still leaving. So now I drive to Izumi, about an hour away, to Noda Girls High School once per week. I honestly expected it to be more different than it is… but the reality is that it isn’t so different from other schools. Except that I can actually access the Internet there… so yeah, good place.

Though I’ve failed to mention it here, I started working on my ESL endorsement a few months ago. I’m halfway through it now, so next year I’ll be certified to teach ESL. It’s been an interesting experience, and it’s good to think that I’ll have some lasting effect of my time here. I will admit that one reason I’ve updated this less is because I spent lots of time writing for those classes, which makes it tougher to enjoy writing for pleasure. The term ends soon, so it’ll be nice to have a bit of a break before getting back to it.

It’s the baseball offseason, and after the shortened, spectator-less season, it promises to be a really slow few months for the sport. It was very cool to see the first woman hired as a Major League general manager, Kim Ng, last week. I’d always seen her name come up in GM interviews in past years, but didn’t know very much about her. Check her out if you’ve got some free time.

I think that’s all for now. Yoshi and I have had really good luck finding good new restaurants lately, so maybe I’ll talk a bit about them next time. Enjoy the photos.

Kentuckishima

Ever lay down for a nice 20-minute power nap, and then wake up 4 ½ hours later with an unshakeable grogginess monster on your back? Well, blogs don’t nap or get groggy, but whatever the literary equivalent of that is… Anyway, I felt like writing, so I’m writing. Simple enough.

I guess it’s obligatory that I give a paragraph to the corona situation, just for the sake of continuity. The reality is that the effect here has not really been all that pronounced. Kagoshima had fewer than 20 cases, even at peak infection rate. Schools, some restaurants and public places closed for a few weeks in April and May. Everyone wears masks (now, everyone’s spoken Japanese is unintelligible, not just mine). Hand sanitizer is at every entrance, everywhere. But that’s really it. The biggest effect has been that Japan is not allowing entry for anyone who has been to the States in the past month, I can’t go home now. Or technically, I can go home but I wouldn’t be able to come back. The fact that I can live through a global pandemic suffering only minor inconveniences gives you an idea of how the lifestyle and culture of Japan can resist outside influences. Kyushu is a separate island of an island nation and, when the people have resolved to do so, it’s quite easy to wall it off from the larger world.

I often write posts about how different life is here compared to the U.S., but as you can probably tell from my title, lately I’ve actually been thinking about how similar Kentucky and Kagoshima are to one another. They are modestly populated, but medium-sized places with only two medium-sized cities. People chuckle when these cities are called “big cities”, because nobody else in the country would consider them to be so. And while the rivalry here is not as fierce as Lexington and Louisville, both populations are convinced of the superiority of their city over the other. People from Kentucky and Kagoshima tend to be wary of outsiders, unusually friendly or, bizarrely, both. Both are rural places where the food is fresh, delicious, and source of great pride. And both people have the own way of speaking that is, seemingly defiantly, different than the “standard language”. But I reckon people ‘round these parts don’t pay no mind to other folks thinkin’ they talk funny. チェスト！(P.S. Yoshi has begun experimenting with a Kentucky accent now. I know that I’m not the most subjective person you could ask, but it’s probably the cutest thing in the universe).

Seeing as I haven’t written since the beginning of the school year in April, I should make note of a few changes in my work environments. Sadly, it was time for my friend Kazu at Satsumachuo (“the farm school”) to transfer, so he no longer works there. So, the steady stream of sweets and snacks provided by him, not to mention a lot of enjoyable conversation, has dried up. Though the English teachers there are still nice to me, I am now fairly consistently left alone almost completely at that school. Which is nice on some days and a bit lonely on others. Cool bit of trivia, though – the new English teacher at Chuo has actually met Munenori Kawasaki! He came to her old school to talk to students and teach them baseball. She even has pictures to prove it, so I’m obviously insanely jealous of that.

Some good news, though, is that Horinouchi-sensei, a teacher I worked with in my first year here, has returned to Sendai High School! They were in need of a part-time teacher there, and the department pretty quickly rallied to bring her out of retirement. It’s great to have my coffee-friend back in the office. Sarcasm is often lost in translation here, but having Horinouchi-sensei back means that English snark has returned to my work life in at least one of my schools. Also, she gives me candy sometimes. So, there’s that.

Some photos for those TL; DR folks. Pay particular attention to the big-ass Kirby plush I won, the big-ass beef katsu that I ate, and the big-ass waterfall that we visited. Because ‘Murica.

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Lemon Pizza and Type A Onsen Prep

Last time I posted, I had recently ordered a seasonal menu item at a local restaurant: lemon pizza. You could be forgiven for missing the picture, as the “slideshow” style that I choose for my photos often buries some of them behind three or four mouse clicks.

Lemon pizza. Yeah, pieces of lemon on a pizza. And people think pineapple is crazy…

Anyway, without really meaning to, I’ve referenced that lemon pizza experience in several conversations since. To be clear, while the ingredients where undoubtably high quality, it’s just not a very suitable flavor combination for pizza. But after seeing it on the menu, I knew that if I didn’t order it, I would be left wondering.

On my birthday, Yoshino and I were looking for a restaurant we could try within walking distance. We had walked only a block before we found a tiny French restaurant that, despite having lived within sight of for almost three years, I had no idea existed. We peeked inside, and the place was completely deserted. We couldn’t even find any staff. We briefly retreated – if nobody was there, it couldn’t be good, right? But again, that thought… would I be OK wondering what is was like, now that I had discovered this hidden place? So back we marched, eventually finding the owner watching YouTube videos, who seemed a bit surprised to have customers. Essentially, he’d studied in France, liked cooking, and didn’t really like the idea of a 9-5 job. So, he opened his own French restaurant in the middle a little rural town and, after telling us all this, made us a hell of a beef roast.

The same idea applied last week, at my weekly Japanese conversation group. Our group facilitator (a smokin’ hot genius who I also happen to be dating) often takes us to different places for our lesson. Saturday, we were at a café attached to a former gold mine that is now a storehouse used for aging 焼酎 (shochu, a Japanese liquor made primarily from sweet potatoes). The facility offered a train tour of the mine/storehouse area. How was the experience? Well, it was damp, smelly, and cold. But it was also interesting and, thanks to some good company, ended up being quite fun. Check out our group in the photos – me, Yoshino, her brother Hayato, and my fellow not-quite-intermediate-but-not-quite-beginner Japanese learners, Pádraic and Alexis.

I know that “always try the lemon pizza” does not sound like much of a proverb by which to live one’s life. For now, though, it works for me. When possible, it’s best not to be left wondering.

One habit I’ve developed that would likely come as a bit of a surprise to many is my fondness for Japanese 温泉 (onsen, natural hot spring bath). Soaking in water naked with a bunch of strangers in an environment where I’m the only one who isn’t sure of the highly codified procedures for doing so… the idea triggered so many disparate anxieties within me, you could have held a triathlon to see which apprehension debilitated me first.

After being prodded into it, though, I realized that it feels… well, incredible. Especially in the winter time. So, I did my best to learn the rules. Some are specific to certain places (take a locker token, trade it for key, return them after the bath). Most are universal, though – shower before using the bath, bring a small towel inside so you can get mostly dry before re-entering the dressing room). Some onsen provide amenities, some provide none – so I built on onsen kit that can adapt to what is on offer at each place. Also of importance – the desire to go can hit you at any time, and onsen are everywhere, so keep your onsen stuff in the car.

Now, I’m not going to say that every part of the experience is relaxing. The rude still stare at my junk while I shower and move away if I enter the same bath. The overly eager still take my presence as a chance for a free, impromptu English lesson. But to relax in steaming hot water with a beautiful mountain- or river-view landscape in front of you, as your muscles relax and the minerals make your skin shiny…

As we age, we tend to let our preconceived notions about what we like and dislike dictate our experiences. Most of the time, our dismissal of new experiences is passive, not active, so it may be tough to notice that we’re missing out on something at all. I’m not saying that these notions should be challenged every day, in every conceivable situation – that’s exhausting. Nor am I saying that one should allow themselves to be pressured into doing things they don’t want – that’s irritating.

But I do think it’s important for our growth and happiness to let try something new, even if we think we know how it’ll go. And even if we have to develop our own coping mechanisms for the stress and anxiety that new experience can cause. The sense of accomplishment that you get, not to mention the occasional surprisingly pleasant outcome, is definitely worth it.

And even if it turns out being not so great, at least you’ll have an idea for a new blog post.

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Architectural Rejection

Aren’t words wonderful? I sure think so. Creating a playful spectrum of subtly different tones and meanings by slightly changing your word choice, order, or stress is so amusing to me. The title of this post, for instance. It’s really just a way to express that, this morning, I was thinking about how often I hit my head on various objects in Japan.

Really, though, the Japanese assault on my noggin is insidious. Everywhere I go, ceilings, doorframes, low-hanging lanterns, and other interior bric-a-brac just lie in wait. At least I seem capable of learning from experience… I always stand up from tables very slowly and look around very carefully when I’m in a new place.

Christmas in Kagoshima never means snow… and people here consider it a minor novelty holiday at best, so things run pretty much the same as usual. The biggest difference for me is that most of the other foreign English teachers travel. It does afford me some precious alone time in a situation where such time is at a premium.

Japan is a culture that largely disapproves of idleness… to the point where inefficient work or even just appearing to be busy are more desirable than doing nothing. From an outsider’s perspective, to me it often seems that people will manufacture tasks (of questionable importance) rather than appear idle. This certainly isn’t a trait unique to Japanese people, but to see it pervade every aspect of culture is still a bit jarring. It’s also easy to get caught up in, especially for someone with a tendency to throw themselves into their work. But as someone who is often happiest when doing nothing, I have to be intentional about reserving time for myself.

Whereas Christmas is of little importance here, the New Year’s holiday is a much bigger deal. It’s a longish holiday by Japanese standards (maybe three or four days off work), and really the only true winter vacation here. People are still doing plenty, though: shrine visits to pray for good fortune in the coming year and many obligatory New Year’s greetings. One of these greeting traditions is sending New Year’s postcards to friends and acquaintances. While there is still a commercial aspect to it (I don’t need a card from my auto shop…), it seems sensible and fun to me, so I gave it a shot this year. I only sent out 5 cards, but trying it for the first time still has some significance to me. Of course, for me, writing each recipient’s address in kanji takes about 10 minutes…

My contract renewal paperwork was given to me yesterday… it seems unreal that I am being asked if I want to stay here for a fourth year. I won’t go into my mental deliberations about my decision… but it is safe to say that there are many things I like about Japan and many things I miss about the U.S. The idea of reverse culture shock seems silly at first glance, but even before deciding about next year, it’s something I can tell would be true. My way of speaking has changed, my expectations of public/business services are wildly different (both positively and negatively), and I even bow to other drivers in traffic. Ultimately, I know that my experiences will make me better able to appreciate and respect diverse viewpoints and cultures. Which is awesome. But there will definitely be an adjustment period. Luckily, I know that mac and cheese, bacon, and sweet tea will all be there to help ease the transition.

Even though I’m leaning towards staying another year, I definitely want to go home relatively soon. Homesickness isn’t as much an acute affliction as a slowly-building, persistent itch. No matter how excited you are to experience the challenges of living in a new culture, and no matter how skilled you are at doing so, you eventually want the comforts of the familiar. I don’t know how long it takes for one’s “familiar” to be defined or redefined… but I do know that even that even the most delicious donburi (丼, rice bowl with toppings) or okonomiyaki (お好み焼き, a kind of pancake stuffed with meat, cabbage, and noodles) is no threat to my Mom’s biscuits and gravy or Spalding’s donuts.

Though, they are welcome to continue to try. 😊 Washoku (和食, traditional Japanese food) is awesome, even if it won’t ever replace my American favorites.

A few pictures, though never really enough to accurately represent my experience here. Merry Christmas (or Happy Festivus!) to everyone. I hope your holiday season is warm, relaxing, and full of love and happiness.

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Samurai Birdos

When I first arrived here – and there’s proof of this in my first few blog posts – I was awestruck by so many different and wonderful experiences. The people, the food, the way of life… everything was interesting. Except the summer heat. Sweet lord, the summer here sucks. It is hot and humid, and the air conditioners either don’t work well, aren’t turned on, etc. There’s a lot of proof of that in my first few blog posts, too.

At first, I was led to believe that this was a cultural thing – that Japanese people valued living in harmony with nature, so as the weather goes, so do they. It seemed understandable, and wholesome, and even a touch poetic.

Yeah, well, that was BULLSH*T.

hotdog

The reality is that most Kagoshima people “go with the flow” in the summer but seem to find any number of ways to keep places hot as soon as fall starts creeping in. And a lot of them are just a big a baby about it as I am about heat. Seriously, the thermostat is set to 75°… and you’re shivering? Puh-leeeze.

Oh well. At least I can enjoy my cool, crisp mornings. Even though most people look at me like I’m crazy for wearing short sleeves and shorts when the temperature is in the mid-60s. Actually, though, people stare at me a lot at all times of the year, so maybe it’s not the shorts. Maybe it’s because I tend to whistle as I walk to and from my car. Nobody else ever seems to whistle here. Or maybe they just think I’m one damn fine-looking piece of white chocolate. Most days, I tend to think that.

I’ve been enjoying (and thanks to Yadi and crew, will continue to enjoy) Cardinals postseason baseball for the first time in a few years, which is great. Due to the time difference, though, I have to wake up around 5:00 AM to watch them. It’s well worth it, though. A Redbirds radio broadcast and McDonald’s breakfast is a fine way to start my day.

As it’s been a few months since my last post, there’s been plenty going on. I made another restaurant tour with Kazu, this time in neighboring Miyazaki prefecture. I’ll let the photos do the talking on that experience. Though, it should come as no great surprise that most of the photos are of food. They tend to be the only type of photos I take, really. Yoshi looking cute eating food. Or me looking like a half-starved polar bear eating food. Or just food. Seriously, if the picture doesn’t have food in it, there’s a good chance someone else took it, and I asked them to send it to me so I can post at least a few pictures of people, nature, or some cool-looking buildings.

Well, I’m not helping my case to avoid looking food-obsessed, but I’ve actually scored some major victories finding some non-Japanese comforts lately in Kagoshima. I found my favorite German beer at the local Oktoberfest (though Kagoshima holds it in late August…), an awesome, almost-American-level-good burger place in Kagoshima City, and even found a Mexican/Peruvian place that has empanadas on the menu! Of course, I remembered to take plenty of photos of these things…

I’m not wanting to end on a sour note, but I do think it’s important to talk about some of the not-so-great things that I’m experiencing here, too. The reality is that for every post that makes it to the blog, I’ve written and eventually scrapped two or three other posts. A lot of this writing is really just to help me understand and process the stressors that I experience here – both everyday irritants, as well as cultural annoyances that are unique to living in a foreign culture. While I’ve found healthy ways to cope with most of the culture shock, something I can’t seem to figure out is the isolation I experience in my workplace. My logical brain understands that my colleagues are busy professionals, and that engaging me isn’t part of their job descriptions. But the reality is that being verbally acknowledged only two or three times a day is discouraging. I sorely miss the ability to meander into one of my teammate’s classrooms, or Robin’s office, or the guidance office, or wherever for a chat. When I left Beaumont, I was in a bit of rut and probably not my best self. But I’ve never been more appreciative of my colleagues there than I am right now. I enjoy hearing about them retiring, or moving on to a new challenge, or leading the charge amongst a faculty of many faces that would be unfamiliar to me. I’m wishing y’all the best from the other side of the world!

I guess that’s enough for now. Enjoy some photos, and I’ll try to update again before 2020.

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In Appreciation of Short, Awkward Conversations

Let me start by saying that the English teachers I work with are, almost without exception, awesome. These are the folks that I teach with, drink with, and talk to when I need help. Without them (and I mean these specific people, not English teachers in general), there is no way I’m still at this job now. I could continue to gush about them, but that isn’t what I want to focus on this time.

The (often unacknowledged) reality is that Japan and the English language have somewhat of a strained relationship. (“Strained” seemed a nicer word to use than “tortured”). Any Japanese person that went to high school has been exposed to it, and the narrative that is often pushed is “Japan is becoming more globalized, so you need to know some English to be a part of that future.” Just like the U.S., though, the reality is that most people don’t really leave the country and so unless they choose a job that needs English, they don’t really use it. And so for many people, English becomes irritating trivia that they had to study so they could pass innumerable examinations.

Into this situation: enter me. People who have been happily living their lives 日本語で (in Japanese) are confronted with a personification of that “globalization” they were supposed to prepare for. But they haven’t used English since high school/university and even then, quite frankly, it was boring as hell. To compare, imagine that somebody suddenly appeared on the periphery of your life, and you could only communicate with them if you remembered high school algebra.

Amazingly, this post is not going to be a festering hotbed of negativity. The opposite, in fact! I just wanted to describe how easy it would be to politely nod at said “algebra-person” and then shuffle away as quickly as possible.

This post is in appreciation of those people who bravely and boldly try to communicate with me, despite the challenge of and lack of tangible reward for doing so. There are several teachers at Sendai High School that immediately come to mind: a science teacher, two of the geography teachers, and the very kind calligraphy teacher. The principal at that school also chats with me when we see each other. There are also several students who speak to me for a bit when we run into each other and are not too busy.

Several of these folks are not even colleagues, though. I spoke about Takada-san, a gas station attendant, in a previous post. A convenience store clerk, the dry-cleaning lady, the owner of my favorite Indian curry restaurant… I even think of the giant of a man at my favorite bakery, who only says “Thank you very much!” in English after I buy an amount of bread that he probably assumes is for a family of four. (It’s not.)

While most of my life in Japan is wonderful, the inescapable fact of expat life is that it is sometimes lonely. To me, this becomes particularly true at work. To be surrounded by bustling activity but have no role or responsibility in it just feels… empty, like the echo of a shout bouncing around a cave. The contrast is particularly stark when considering the respect and rapport I enjoyed at my previous job.

Having a short, oftentimes halting, conversation with someone for 30 seconds or so may seem like such a small kindness. But in my current context, I am so indescribably appreciative of it. It’s often the highlight of my day! And you can damn well bet that I always remember anyone who engages me in such a way… which is why I was able to list them so easily off the top of my head, even when I don’t know their names.

It makes me happy to focus on such considerate and uplifting people for a minute, even though it’s just a blog post read by a handful of people. That by itself would be enough. But I want to mention one more thing today.

I am well-adjusted, financially stable adult with a loving family, girlfriend, and an extensive support system living in one of the safest countries in the world. I am also the happiest and most mentally healthy that I’ve ever been in my entire life. And I still feel this way when I’m engaged for even 60 seconds of my day. (That’s about 0.0007% of your day, my fellow not-algebra-people). If you have a pulse, you see someone every day who needs this bit of interaction far more than I do. So, take the time to give it to them. Even if you can’t communicate a single substantive idea, the impact will be more far-reaching than you can know.

Are you used to my irritating habit of my blog’s photos being in no way related to the post’s content? I hope so, because that’s not going away anytime soon…

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Burger Week Blues

Several years ago, while I was still living in the U.S., I would often talk to anyone who would listen about my favorite week of the year: Lexington Burger Week. I received a very wide range of responses when I’d bring up this topic: fellow enthusiasts with whom I could swap stories of Burgers Weeks past; compulsive “type A”s who didn’t quite get the idea but loved my usage of lists and maps to plan my experience; friends who couldn’t care less but indulged me, because they cared about me and knew that I would reciprocate by listening to them talk about something I didn’t particularly like… these are just a few.

I don’t really get the same range of reactions here in Japan. That’s understandable, since most people haven’t been within a thousand miles of Lexington and hamburgers are not a very popular indulgence food here. I do still fondly recall meeting Nicole Ehlers for the first time and her already knowing me as “the burger guy”. I don’t know that she meant it in a positive way, but that’s how I chose to remember it.

I always have trouble explaining the personal significance of the week to others, even those who “get it”. Burger Week is, of course, about deliciously beefy, cheesy, and (at times) sweaty overindulgence (beef be with you). It’s also about an inordinate amount of time spend compiling lists, maps, and timetables that are probably not strictly necessary (but are always fun to do).

But is has meaning for me beyond that.

This is the time of year that, no matter how busy adulthood has made us, my little brother and I can spend time together – getting beef sweats, drinking beers, laughing, and talking about the least (and most) important things in the world. This is the time of year that, after almost a decade of hearing about one another from me, my mom can meet Carol Graham and David Overbey, two of my closest colleagues. This is the time of year that Robin Kirby and I can meet and excitedly talk about the imminent new chapters of our lives; realizing a long-held professional goal or moving across the world.

This is the time of year where I not only spent time with the people I cared most about, but also strengthened bonds with acquaintances and colleagues who I didn’t get to see often outside of work. Weeks beforehand, I’d create a timetable in my phone, that would show when, where, and with whom I would be sharing burgers – usually around 14-15 for the week. The burgers mattered, sure, but what was really important was the people. Because of the minor notoriety I gained for my love of the week, it seemed as if everybody made a little bit of extra effort to fit me into their schedules. The result was a week-long celebration of the people in my life, and the relationships I had with them, set against the backdrop of cheap, delicious food being served in a manner which could be easily catalogued, arranged, and codified. Those, my friends, are the ingredients for a very happy Spence.

It’s also the reason that now is when I most miss being in Kentucky, even more so than Thanksgiving and Christmas. Nowadays, when I say home, I’m usually referring to my Sendai apartment. Which, thanks mostly to Yoshi’s influence, looks more and more like a place where an actual adult lives.

This is the time of year, though, where home always means Lexington. Family and friends. Fries and sauces. Beers, laughter, burgers, and stories.

As I sit here, with both eyes and mouth watering, a request. If you happen to enjoy a burger, beer, and some fine company this week, post a few pictures onto Facebook or Instagram. I guarantee that the resultant “like” that I give it has much more meaning for me than it usually does.

Much like Burger Week just isn’t about burgers, my photos for this post aren’t just burgers, either. Instead, enjoy some nostalgic photos featuring people worth celebrating. 😊 (But also a few burgers.)

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Another Boar-ing Post

Around twice a week, I drive out to Satsumachuo High School. My parents know this as “the farm school”, since many students are enrolled in agricultural and technical-based courses. This school often has fresh vegetables, bread, jams, and other goodies on sale. The students are friendly, and considering the (lack of) utility English has for most of their futures, surprisingly enthusiastic about English. Mostly.

One of the ongoing subplots of my 45-minute drives to Satsumachuo has been “the boar”. Two or three times last year, when driving back from this school, I saw what seemed to be a boar in a field by the side of the road. Since then, several people have been subjected to my obsession with the boar. “Is it really a boar? Have you seen it? Why is it there? Is it a pet?” I spend quite a bit of time talking about it with Yoshino, Homan-sensei, and several other folks familiar with the area. I’ve even sent messages to my family after I saw it. For the past three or four months, though, nary a sight. I told myself that I ever saw the boar again, I would stop to get pictures and talk to the owner, if I saw him or her nearby.

Well, guess what? 2019 is the year of the boar! (No, really, it is.)

Just to make sure, I asked the old man nearby if this was an イノシシ (inoshishi, boar), which he confirmed. My developing Japanese isn’t quite conversational yet, but I was able to figure out that he keeps him as a kind of pet and that he doesn’t really like strangers. Well, I actually didn’t need much Japanese for that second part, because most of the time I took pictures, the boar was chasing me around.

The beginning of spring in Japan signals, like most countries, lots of local festivals and outside activities. For me, it also signals uncomfortable heat and seasonal allergies. But let’s focus on the positive!

お花見 (ohanami, cherry-blossom viewing) is famous in Japan. It may sound sophisticated, but really it’s just eating and drinking in the park while looking at the blooming cherry trees. But every part of that sounds great, doesn’t it?

Yoshi and I also spent an afternoon on Akune Oshima, a little island that’s crowded in the summer but other times of the year just has a few fishermen, some very friendly deer, and beautiful bayside views. (Video posted to Facebook, because no I would not like to upgrade to premium WordPress, kthxbye.)

I was also able to enjoy Kushikino’s Tuna Festival this past week. You may THINK you’ve got an idea of how many different ways to prepare tuna, but you’d be wrong. Imagine Bubba from Forrest Gump talking about tuna instead of shrimp, and you’d have an idea of what you could buy at this festival. The rain put a bit of damper on the experience, though Yoshi, Yanagi-sensei, and I were still able to enjoy まぐろ饅 (maguroman, tuna-filled steamed bun) and some tuna sushi before leaving.

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