Anybody wanna be a host family?

This is Miho, one of my students at Namase JHS.  She's in 8th grade right now, and she's already learned a lot of English so I can have conversations with her about stuff.  She really wants to do a homestay experience in America when she's in High School, so if anybody wants to be a host family, let me know.  She's pretty great.

 

God Bless,

Josh

The Golden Compass

I recently finished the book "The Golden Compass" which was, to me, a delightful children's book about a little girl on a hairy adventure who makes several allies and enemies on the way.  As I read it, it was overtly obvious that the book was not Christian, because the main institutions are arms of the church that act only in a secular and political manner while using spiritual trappings to maintain the appearance of a religious organization.  Not a very complimentary commentary on the church.

As with Harry Potter and many other paganly-penned works (and I do NOT mean that expression to be derogatory in any way), the book is not proposing a Christ-centered life, and therefore should be read with a scrutinizing eye and heart by those who consider a Christ-centered life to be an act of worship to God. The author is an Atheist and has publicly stated (according to articles that I have read) that the purpose of his books is specifically attack (his word was kill) the legitimacy of the notion of God in the minds of children.

Having said that, I really enjoyed the book, was glad I read it, and think that any Christian who has even a halfway sound relationship with the Lord would be just fine reading it. Not a threat to them. The story has many redeeming qualities. It portrays the value of courage, bravery, friendship, loyalty, integrity, compassion, gentleness, and family, and shows the damaging effects of the discontinuation of those virtues. The good characters are actually rather good (though Lyra has the common modern hero complex of being above the rules, and we're supposed to support her rebelliousness <cough.. harrypotter.. cough>), and the bad characters are certainly bad. Their main vices are the use and abuse of others for the sake of their own schemes. I think that that's a very important lesson for children to learn: that others suffer when we act selfishly for the love of power (or shellfishly for the love of seafood for that matter.)

It is, however, a book that mocks the Catholic Church and it does not promote the notion that faith in a higher power will save or redeem or bring courage. Its a very "you are your only hope.. you have the wisdom.. you have the power to change the world" kind of book. It does not teach faith in God, but rather in worthy allies and your own courage. In fact religion is a dry and dusty thing that is redeemed only by the fact that it is a facade for science, so any truth or value that religion has in this world comes from the fact that science is saving the day in spite of the religious foolishness that insists on calling scientific things by philosophical/spiritual names.

Like I said, its dangerous for pagan children to read because the cynicism and venom of an adult are being poured into the minds of children, but I do not consider it at all dangerous for Christian children with a scrap of discernment... at least book 1. On a counter-note, I have read somewhere, BUT HAVE NOT YET PERSONALLY SEEN that present in books 2 and/or 3 are the subjects of male castration and female circumcision.  I myself have only read book 1 so I can neither confirm or deny this. I'm trying to get my hands on books 2 and 3 ASAP so as to make an informed opinion and share it with those whom it might help.

Well, there you go.  In case any of you had heard about Disney's vast conspiracy to undermine the church, that's my two cents on the matter.  I have heard people accuse Disney of dumming down the story so that unsuspecting parents will let their children read the books and thereby spread pro-Atheist materials like the plague through our homes, but I think that may be a bit extremist.  My suspicion is that Disney has learned their lesson: Christians boycott things that are highly offensive.  They are trying to make the story more universally palatable because their bottom line is sales, not proselytizing.  I'm sure the author would be pleased if the aforementioned scenario did occur, but its easily avoidable.  Parents who know about this should read the book with their children and talk to them about the ways in which the characters benefit from the virtues they do posses and the grace that they are missing out on my not loving and having faith in God.  Seems pretty simple to me.  Anti-venom is the easiest thing in the world to make, and it protects them from future venoms of a similar ilk.

Skepsou!  That's what Big John's plaque says.  I keep it on my wall.. even here in Japan.  It means something to the effect of: Be skeptical, question everything, use a critical mind.

May the God of all peace guard your hearts and your minds in Christ,
Joshua

Editor's Comment: Beefy vs. Humany

It was brought to our attention that should the stew referred to in the previous post consist of human, it could not accurately be described as "beefy".  The writer would like to clarify that said stew was intended to be based on a beef stock with human ingredients added after bringing said beef and flavoring vegetable agents to a boil so as to infuse said human flesh with extra flavor.

Thank you to the scrutinous reader for bringing this request for clarification to my attention.

Editor in Chief of "Josh's Time in Japan"--
Joshua P. Suich

A Diatribe Upon that Infamous Man, Harry Russo

Harry, harry, harry.
What ever will we do with you?

Dice you, steam you,
Fricase you,
Or simmer all your tender flesh
In frothy beefy stew?

Harry Harry O Russo,
How shall I now defeat you?
With sticks
With stones
To break your bones,
Or a 45 another owns
And wipe the prints straightforth?

Oh Harry, would I banish you
If your name was Larry?
Would strife still stand betwixt our hands
If your mother named you Garry?
I think not so, my mortal foe,
Our challenge lies beyond our names.
Your very visage carries woe
And all good things defames.

When babies sense your horrid stench
They wail quite inconsolably
And even demons quail and wrench
And shudder uncontrollably.

Your very gaze could freeze in flint
Medusa and her hair
Why sabo rounds would fail against
Your life consuming stare

You make me sick
You make me mad
I hope you stick your head in sand
Wile scorpions go up your nose
And give you an anaphilactic dose
Of poison much like that you've used
To make the guileless heart to burst
You vicious bloody butcher

(If you made movies they'd be worse
Than those with Ashton Kutcher)

You're fat
You smell
Your cat would tell you
"Shove off, man
I know your plan!"
Though you did trace
Before her face
Ten tuna cans
With sardine glands
Held out by double-timing hands.

A beast could see
Your malady
Doth spread just like a blight
As your footsteps fall
You scatter gall
While stalking in the night.

You bloated corpse of undead lust.
Your heart is stuffed with furnace dust;
The ashes of 10 men's remains.
You only sing a dirge refrain
Delighting in the wake of dead
And dying as you plow ahead;
A reaper of the innocent
A sower of injustice.
To all that's good you're insolent
More haughty than Augustus.

A Caesar of Unceasing sins
A Czar of bloody origins.
You surely never will compare
With he in whose great name you share
That man of wit and sagicity
Whose words brought such felicity
... wait a minute,
Your last name is Russo.

Sorry, I was thinking of ANOTHER Harry.
Harry Winkler.  Yeah, that's the guy.

Oops, well never mind, just forget all that stuff.

--
Josh <{><

My weekend

This weekend I went up to Fukushima (the prefecture to the north of Ibaraki) to have an overnight dinner party with my friends Jeff, April, and our other 12 closest aquaintences.  Steve and I made tacos (whose properties of deliciousness and ability to induce opiate levels of euphoria rise in proportion to the length of time since one last consumed them compounded by the degree of alienness of one's environment during said period of separation).  People liked them because they missed American food.  (See, Dwight, I CAN talk like a normal person.  I just have to try twice.)

 

Someone brought Austrian rum.. which was interesting.  I didn't know Austrians made rum.

 

And speaking of potent potables, I found a 70 year old man on the side of the road the next morning as I was walking to get OJ who was most likely suffering their ill effects.  I took a diferent way back from the conbenie (convenience store), and on the return route I looked up to see a man sprawled out on his fanny waving his hands out to me, gesturing and mumbling in Japanese for me to help him up.  Needless to say, I ran over, dropped the OJ and helped him up.  After doing so, I realized that he was capable of standing on his own, but that was the upper limit of his acrobatic potential.  I also realized that I was physically supporting an ex-Yakuza dude.  He was missing two of the three bones of his right index finger and all or most of his left pinkie.  Usually they only take pinkies, so he must have really done something seriously だめ　(da-me, wrong) to get the index finger hacked on.

 

After helping him up and steadying him, he started waving in the direction of 'up the mountain' and I caught the word for 'home' in there.  Since his max speed was some fraction of 1 mph, and I didn't want him to have to walk, I sat him down on the nearest ad hoc bench and told him to 'hang on a minute because I was going to get my car' in Japanese.  Thank goodness I knew that much.  At the house, I grabbed Hideko, one of the young ladies whom I tutor in English, and asked her to help me figure out how to get this guy home.  He was coherent enough to point in the appropriate directions and have a basic conversation with Hideko.  I had to ask him 4 times in Japanese if he was ok, before he understood me, and I have that phrase down packed.  I thought he was still drunk from the night before, since he had clearly been stumbling around in the bushes judging by the bits of plant covering his jacket and pants, but Hideko figured it was just natural mental deterioration.  As it turns out, he lived just two doors down from my friends Jeff and April, and we were able to get him home safe and at least sound enough to walk in the front door under his own power.

 

By about midday we had all roused ourselves to a sufficient level of wakefulness to hit Cafe Bond, which is kind of a tradition after Jeff and April parties.  I had my standard BLET sando (bacon, lettuice, egg, and tomato sandwich), this time with two cups of coffee, and enjoyed the last couple of hours of company by discussing the antics of the previous night.  (I was the twister champion.)

 

I drove Steve, Blake, and Joanna home and Blake and Joanna and I had ice cream in Mito (Joanna's stop) before Blake and I headed to his place and watched the latest episode of Heroes and finshed season 3 of Battlestar Galactica.

 

And that was my weekend.  Wish you guys could have been here.

 --
Josh <{><

What have I accomplished...

In the process of discovering and choosing (a very fluid reality right now) what I will do after Japan, I have decided to apply for positions within the United Nations that would allow me to do international humanitarian work.  One of the things you have to do is set up a Personal History Profile, which is essentially an on-site resume.  One of the things they asked me to fill out under the Employment section was a list of my 'achievements' at my current job.  I was raised (and genetically predetermined) to be modest about my own successes and praising of others, so I felt almost uncomfortable at first of speaking of my own successes or enumerating my achievements.  When I did punch through that akwardness, though, this is what came out.  I think its honest and true, and if you are reading this blog, then chances are you will care enough to read it.

 

"During my first six months in Daigo-machi, I have established healthy and friendly relationships with my coworkers and superiors.  One of my primary duties, according to the publications of the national committee which sets policy for the Japanese public educational system, is to provide as rich an international experience as possible for the students who will, statistically speaking, not have a chance to experience life outside their country (or even city in my case).
  I strive every day to make contact even with the students whose English skills are exceptionally undeveloped, and use my own broken Japanese, when appropriate, to show them that it is good to attempt to speak another language before they have achieved perfection.  Through demonstrating my own respect for Japanese customs and values and sharing the traditions and methods of my own country, I believe I have been able to broaden the horizons of my students, coworkers, and community.  That is, in fact, one of the self-beneficial reasons why I took this position: to discover and be changed by a fundamentally different way of approaching life and industry.  I believe I have achieved that to a great degree for myself, and have helped many of my students begin to do the same."

 

I hope you all get to travel.  'Your' world is exactly as big as your own horizons which are composed of your memories and the power of your imagination which is fueled and limited by those very memories.  There are other people out there, though; more than you can comprehend.  They laugh for different reasons, and suffer for far more severe ones if you come from a world as commonly blessed as mine.  They pray to different gods and celebrate different holidays.  Their methodologies and ideologies are founded on sometimes otherly and even diametrically opposed values.  And yet..

 

For all that, they laugh the same way (almost), they cry and console for the same reasons, they all want to find security and hope beyond this life, and they rejoice for the same reasons, even if the object is different.  I feel very blessed to be able to say these things from a personal experience and not just an academic understanding.

 

Again, I pray you get to travel.

 

May the road rise to meet you,

Joshua

Josh's Log:LSAT's and Perseverence

Right now I'm trying to get myself back on track with regards to my LSAT studies.  I ran out of steam, so to speak, for a while there because I lost sight of why I had chosen law in the first place.  Its kind of hard to keep my sights settled on it since I've gone through so many options and now it feels like I've made the decision so suddenly.  That's not actually the case, but it feels that way.  Right now, I just need to stay commited and stay the course (something I'm learning to do rather late in the game).  Its frustrating because its not easy.  I haven't been very good at dealing with that in the past, so I'm developing a new kind of coping mechanism to confront the frustration and meet it with a will to overcome rather than frustration.  Its hard.

 

This is a tight month financially, so I'm also trying to stay frugal with my finances.  All in all, its a stretching period.  Not exactly comfortable, but very very good if I will be obedient.  Thank goodness He is so patient.

 

I was rattled out of my 'groove' of equanimity recently, but I'm back into it now, which is nice.  One less distraction.

 

I bought that book called 'The Golden Compass' that's coming out in theatres soon (maybe it did in the USA already, I don't know.. it hasn't come out here yet).  Its the one with the little girl and the huge polar bear with golden armor in the previews.  It looked interesting, and I find that stories help get me through.  They give you something big and grand from which to draw a little hope and pleasure.. and most importantly, they remind you of what a big and good thing God is doing in the world.  I'm trying to worship God through allegories, since right now its hard to do it in my old familiar way.  There's no church here.. no one speaking in terms of Christ or grace or worship.  Its up to me to keep the vocabulary of my mind and the focus of my heart on Him and His goodness and glory.  For me, religion grows cold when there's no one with whom to share it.  I guess I hope that when I hear these stories, they will keep my heart aware of the greater Story I live in.  I must admit, I've lost my taste for it recently.  Life here in Japan has felt remarkably lacking in any kind of overt success or spiritual affirmation.  I don't see any obvious ways in which I have made a difference or succeeded in changing my community for the better.  Plenty of people like me, but that's not really meaningful in the way that I would like.. in the way that affirms my true value and not just my ego.  I guess its good to be without success for a season, if you wait upon the Lord to show you your value.  Of course, I haven't really been doing that, and I'm thinking about it far more now, when I'm telling you, than in the vast quantities of down-time I float through.

 

All in all, I'm alive, and that feels like a responsibility and a burden sometimes, because I feel like the major obligation in my life, right now, is to discover/choose/mystically attain some grand and glorious power and purpose for my life.  Why I feel so obligated to do so, I don't know.  Somehow I feel guilty and frustrated for not having a clear plan of success for my mortal life.  I think most young men my age feel the same way.  We all want to work our way back into Eden.. somehow we all feel the burden of shame and that drives us to toil our way back into God's good graces.  Its somewhat different for women, but deep down I'm sure it has the same root.  I'm also just really restless and analytical by nature, so that makes me wrestle with these things in my heart even more.

 

I came to Japan because I hoped it would reveal these things in my heart, and it has.  I wouldn't be any healthier just because I could ignore them.

 

Now for the slow boat to China called, "answers".

Round 2: Engrish ain't pretty

This is one of those toys you can buy at the check out area of the grocery store for a few coins. its a puking action figure. i rest my case.

on the subway

so for all you folks who think that engrish is innocent, this dude's hat says ゛suck you very much"

Catch-up #2 Training week in Tokyo

I just got back from Tokyo, where I spent a week doing some training with the new recruits for my company, Interac. That's pretty cool for me on several levels. I got 1) paid. 2) free/soon to be reimbursed subway fare on the order of $30 around Tokyo 3) great experience that will look really solid on my curricula vitae, and 4) a substantial ego boost seeing as how I've only been doing this for 5 months and they're already using me to train this stuff. All the other trainers were surprised to hear how quickly I had gotten this gig, but EVERY single one of them also took the time to pull me aside and tell me personally that they thought I was doing great and was headed for corporate promotion if I wanted it. Being recognized by one's superiors at work is a very gratifying thing. It was my first experience of that kind, and I liked it. I can see how a man might spend the rest of his life playing by those rules, grasping for more of that particular currency of validation. Its not an economy I wish to live under, though. I'm not sure which one I do want to live under, though, so for now I'm at least considering staying with the company for another year, but only if I can get promoted to a different position by the start of the next contract. I'll stay if it means growing as a person and in my skill base, but I've effectively drained the act of just teaching English as an ALT for its life-enriching powers. I like my job, but it is not challenging in the way or to the degree I would like it to be.

I know Daniel, Chad, David, and my mom have their votes cast for me coming home. Don't worry guys, that holds a lot of weight in my decision making process. I miss you guys too.

Catch-up #1 Fuji-san: the ascent, the adventure, the awe

On the morning of Saturday, August 11th, Blake and I began our 9 hour drive to the 5th station of Mt. Fuji.  The drive up the side of the mountain alone was a bit harrowing, but after 2000 meters of driving up and up and up and up and up... and then up some more... we finally came to the end of route 150 which doubled as access road and parking lot.  Fortunately, I learned how to park from the pro's.  A normal man might take the first decent looking spot he can get, for fear that if he passes it up that very spot will be nabbed while his greed keeps him driving in circles.  Not I.  We passed up every decent, good, and even great spot until we made it to the very very top.  Of course at this point we had overshot the range of available parking (people were just paralleling their cars on the side), but as we came back down, just 7 cars lengths down the mountain (we had passed about 150 cars at this point) we see a family of 4 getting INTO their cars!  Blake jumped out and stood in the spot in the 7 intervening seconds between their pulling out and my pulling in.  Needless to say, we were pretty excited about shaving off an unnecessary kilometer or two being taken a 35 degree angle on foot.  It was so steep going up at a few places that I began to get a mild panic attack and I had to start rambling to Blake about extreme and bizarre topics because I was remembering/reliving some of my worst nightmares that involve driving up a mountainside that is getting steeper and steeper until the car falls off backwards.  In these dreams I can always feel everything VERY vividly.  I have really vivid kinesthetic dreams.

SO, we got to the top... without falling off backwards... and bought our hiking sticks.  For 1,000 yen you can get the cheapster's stick with no bells or ribbons... literally bells and ribbons.  Someone pointed out in an online article that the bells will drive you bonkers going up for about 1.1 vertical miles of ascent across about 10 miles of trail length, so I pulled a Paul Suich cheapster classic and instead bought an extra tall stick... cause I'm an extra tall guy.

So we walk away from the dude selling staffs and head in a generally "up the mountain" direction.  Our selected vector takes us past a parking lot cop so I ask him if this is the Subashiri trail head in English and Japanese.  This dude gives me not just a blank look, but one of mild, "What the crap are you bothering me for.  Do I look like trail director Bob?"  I assume that this is because the road we are walking up is the only one in plain view, so we scramble on up.  3 minutes later we find ourselves standing at the dead end of a parking lot with no map, no ambient light because it's currently 10:00 at night, and no great amount of thanks to the meter maid who blew us off.  Fortunately some guys with telescopes were willing to be accosted by me for directions.  They didn't give much in the way of "direction" but we pretty much established that we were in fact dead-ended in a parking lot.

After going back to the guy who sold us the staffs, we realized that the trail head was just past him, but since it was nighttime and the area had no illumination, we didn't notice it.  Nice start, huh?  It was ok, though, since we were ahead of schedule... or at least we thought we were.

The first leg of the trip took us up a very rocky trail surrounded by woods.  It was a nice hike since Blake and I both brought our headlamps.  They did the trick.  Plus, I found a huge bag of salted peanuts, a really cool T-shirt that was even my size (and blue, my favorite color to boot), a pink hand towel, a half-pack of cigarettes (which I gave to Blake), and a... well, iTs something veRy cool which I will be glAd to show you If you ask, but I fear to pubLiSh It lest the Fuji-san authorities Get the Notion to prosecute.  Mwa ha ha ha.

(What, it was 'broken'.  I was practically a janitor cleaning up the trash.  Don't look at me like that.)

Anyway, the climb was nice for the first three hours because it kept changing angle and scenery and pace.  Though it did just keep going up and up and up... at a much steeper gradient than I'm used to.  This, of course, did not stop the Japanese natives from having a smoke at every possible break point.  I saw no less than 20 people puffing away at 3,000 meters plus.  But I digress.  Back to Fuji. 

We saw a few very pretty local flowers, but the most incredible thing was the valley beneath Fuji.  There are three towns crammed together that spread out before the east face of the mountain, which the Subashiri ascends, so we had an amazing view of the orange city lights and the pool of blackness in the middle which was the lake.  If Blake and I hadn't known the scale of our view from the map it would have been very misleading.  Its hard to comprehend sizes or distances from Fuji.  Its just in another category of size from anything you've ever climbed.  The weather was perfect and the air was clear as crystal... for the first 4 hours.  After station 6 or 7 some clouds started to roll in, which was interesting because they were almost exactly on eye level with us.  When I noticed the first one it was perhaps 25-50 feet below my level.  Creepy and cool.

Then the weather took a turn.  Not just our valley, but our section of Japan became swamped in a sea of storm clouds.  It's cool being on Fuji because you know your regional weather status by looking in that direction.  Unfortunately, we lost visibility because the pressure of the front and the winds against the mountain drove the storm clouds up on top of us.  We weren't getting rained on so much as getting in the way of the rain swirling around us.  Nothing was safe... or dry.  My visibility dropped to about 3 and a half feet and at this point I had to take off my glasses because the moisture impaired my vision more than my 20/50 status without lenses.  At one point I was even rained up.  The backs of my calves were drenched.  That was a unique experience.

Finally, the rain thinned, after about 2-3 hours, and we reached the 8th station where we were a few hundred meters above the newly risen sea of white fluffy clouds that were content to brood above the face of the earth after blowing off some initial steam as the rolled over southeastern Japan.  Just as Blake and I were limping and struggling to reach what we thought was the peak, we came in view of the 8th station during the same moments of the first strong ambient light of the sunrise.  The sun had not yet peeked, but we knew it was only minutes away.  With a final 100 meters left we shouted each other on through the miserable pain of numb fingers from the blisteringly cold rain and all around low temperature of our altitude in the dead of night.  That was one of the longest 100 meters of my life.  We had originally planned to observe the sunrise from the summit, but that was still hours away (to our soul-wrenching chagrin) but it ended up working out for the best.  We NEEDED a break at that point, and because it was the first station above the newly risen cloud-level, it was actually the best spot on all of Fuji to see the sunrise because it left the cloud layer spread out at the perfect angle.  If we had been higher, we would have lost some of the detail of the cloud tops and had more mountain in the scenery.  It was perfect.  The sun blazed forth (blindingly blazed forth) and everyone cheered and oohed and ahhed.  It think a thousand pictures were taken in those few minutes... 572 of them by Blake.  What's more, the sun kind of rose twice!  It came up from behind a tall cloud, but then the cloud moved over and blocked the sun again.  Like an encore, the sun burst forth a second time brighter and more boldly.  That alone would have made the climb worth while.

I can describe the next three hours from the 8th station to the top in a few simple words:

pain

fatigue

humiliation

Pain, because my joints where the top of my femur meets my hip socket felt like someone had stabbed me inside them.  Fatigue because not only had we been doing RIGOROUS activity continuously for the last 7 hours (it has been clinically proven that it is 13 times harder to take a step up than forward) but ALSO because oxygen comes in noticably shorter supply at 3,500 meters.  Humiliation, because there were old women and families with children of the elementary level who were passing us... regularly... quickly... and consistently.

Now, having said that, pain can be forgotten.  I will NEVER, however, forget standing at an altitude of 12,395 feet and being able to see, in a 340 degree panoramic sweep (the far lip of the crater just barely obscures the horizon) , the entirety of the atmosphere, the sea of clouds, the gaping expanse of hoary mountains, the endless fields of misty mounds yawning out into the inscrutable and truly frightening reaches of blindingly bright Horizon that represents a distance you can't measure.  I had seen a thing so big that it scared me.  It had no will of its own, other than to glorify its maker.  It had no impulse to come against me with its force.  It was neither cognizant of me nor did its natural force present any immediate bodily threat.  For the fist time in my life I saw something that scared me not because its relationship to me had the potential to harm me, but simply because the notion of me being in relationship to it was incalculable.  The horizon is a big thing.  It surrounds you all the time, but when you're on the ground it does it like the color blue on a wall or a cotton blanket in a bed.  Its soothing and familiar and unobtrusive.  To see the horizon of the world with the naked eye at the elevation of Fuji is a spiritual experience.  You are utterly exposed, and you peer into the reaches of the atmosphere in a way that you never have before... in a way that makes you question if you even should.  I climbed triumphantly up the rocks that I had piled against the post driven into the peak so that I could stand higher than any before me... I looked out and around... and I climbed down in fear and humility.  That was the biggest sky I have ever seen in my life.

There is an ancient Japanese saying.  "He who climbs Fuji is wise.  He who never climbs is a fool.  He who climbs twice is twice the fool."

I understand why Donald Kemp was so frustrated when his son took his Fuji staff that had been branded in commemorative triumph at the various stations.  Climbing Fuji really does merit a trophy, and it certainly calls for a memento.

Joshua P. Suich

Mito street festival

A few weeks ago I went to Mito for a festival and saw this on a truck.

First time surfing

Well, I finally hit Oarai's Sun Beach [latitude: 36.29077703961915
longitude: 140.5613136291504] and tried my best to learn to surf.  I really would have benefited from a teacher, but I read up on the internet and gave it the old college try.  I actually kind of stood up a couple of times, but the waves were super mushy and not really powerful enough for me to learn on easily.  There were a couple of super-pro veterans out there who could ride even the tiniest and mushiest wave all the way in, but most were in the boat with me... suffering from low-power blues.

I certainly had a good time, though.  Blake, Jesus, and I spend the whole day on the beach (we left at 6:30 from their place in Omiya) and I forgot to reapply the sunscreen on my head, so I got a wee bit toasted on the noggin.

We're having a big beach party this Monday, which i am super stoked about.  Wish you could all be there!
--
Josh <{><

Earthquake Update

Ok, so everyone who really loves me seems to be worried that my body is currently decomposing under a smoldering pile of rubble in the wake of the big quake (hey that rhymed), but as evidence to the contrary I present the existence of this blog.  I am, in fact, alive.

 

On my birthday,I climbed Mount Nantai (a couple of thousand meters) with Steve, Blake, and Yvonne.  Pictures should be on the way.

 

One more class between me and SUMMER BREAK... well, one more class and a dumb company meeting in Hitachi, but I like my boss and co-workers, so I'm just lying to myself and saying that its a voluntary social call.

Props go to Eddie Carley for sending me a painted coconut from Hawaii, even though it cost him $37 to get it to me.  Eddie, you, my main man, are a thoughtful friend.

 

Double props go to Grams and Dad&Mom for getting me blog-specific presents in the form of T-shirts regarding the dangers of nocturnal-ursine-mid-arborial maulings.  (being attacked by a bear while camping)

 

I'm 24 now, so if anybody wants to know what that's like, just be 23 and then change the number you write in boxes on forms for your age.

 

Now 25 on the other hand... low insurance rates and renting of sports cars for the weekend here I come.

Christ Keep You All

Oh no, not another one of THOSE blogs...

I'm following footprints through the woods
Made by someone of my size,
With just my gate, my weight, my mood,
Who travels in a circling path.
I follow a fool who walks in circles.
I wonder if he knows his way,
If he's aware he's got a tail,
Or if I follow one who's lost
And thinks that he's alone.

I searched to find
Only to find
That when I search
I find the things
I've changed and made
Along the way.

My friend was right.
The narrow and untraveled path is better.

purpose

That's arguably the most important question with regards to human existence. You can't deduce it through method or logic because its premisies are beyond the system, and you can't create it with imaginiation, because if its real then its bigger than you. But we all want to know what it is. That leaves two other methods of learning of which I know...discovery or revelation.

Purpose isn't really a thing, so to speak. Its not like a rock that you can stub your toe on... or maybe it is. When you hit a rock you are filled with a sudden, and very noticeable, knowledge. Pain fills your consciousness and your brain does its work of survival very well, so it latches onto this new awareness to preserve you as best it can. But then, there are other ways of discovering. When you have been working in a carpentry shop for hours on a Saturday afternoon you generate about a metric ton of sawdust-- if you like using the lathe as much as I do. When you make the first shave into the leg of pine, your while face is filled with the smell and the taste of connifer sap. Its pungent and sweet and touched with bitter, but it washes over you and is gone. You have absorbed the smell and grown accustomed to it. So you work for several more hours making a table or a baseball bat or a walking stick or a wedding cross. When you step out of the shop, you are hit with a new smell for the first time in hours. Maybe its the garbage pile next to the woodshop, or a field of wildflowers, or fresh asphalt being laid by city workers. Either way, your smell is reset, and the next time you lean your head down or brush your face with your sleeve, you realize that your shirt is SOAKED with the pungent scent of sawdust. But it happened gradually, so you didn't even notice it.

I think that's how I've discovered purpose, for the most part. All of a sudden, even though its already been there for years... just soaking into my tastebuds and clothes so slowly I didn't even notice, but so deeply I'll never be able to get it out. All it took was a wash of some OTHER scent to reset me and let me taste the old anew.

So, sometimes revelation is like a new smell that puts years of previous revelation into perspective.

But, as my mom says, insight doesn't lead to change. My dad sent me a magnet that says something like, "Life isn't about discovering yourself, its about creating yourself." Which is very nearly true. My only alteration would be that Christ is recreating me day by day.

Japan'll be the end o' me

This year, for the first time EVER in my short but patriotic American life, I did not celebrate the fourth of July.

I went to a barbeque where a bunch of Latino's living in Japan get together and eat and dance and jaw. So, it was like celebrating the fourth in Miami or South Texas, in that I got my "gratuitous gorging on grilled meats and casseroles" on, but it just wasn't the same. I attribute this mostly to the fact that I was a late-comer, and so I entirely missed the watermelon stash. Its not the same without my favorite sugar water diahretic.

I did, however, spend a couple of hours babysitting Toshiro, who is 2 years old, and doesn't know if he's Japanese or Latino. He's Japino... or was it Latinese? I don't know. Anyway, I taught him 5 English words in an hour or so. I know this because I heard him use all of them multiple times. Sharp guy.

Summer break is coming up! I'm really stoked about learning to surf at Chiba and Yokohama. Apparently, there are several very respectable spots for surfing. Who knew!

Oh yeah, back to the "Japan will be the end of me" thing. Yesterday I was teaching at one of my elementary schools. Now, when they build things in Japan, they don't build for a height range of 5' something to almost 7', they build for a much more midgetish society. Like, under 4' to 6'. 6' being significantly on the tall side. HA. But, this is hard to get used to. I'm accustomed to being able to walk through hallways without hitting the ceilings and door jams. (At least, I think that's how you use the word door jam.) So, I'm looking down in my bag for the schedule and suddenly I feel this crippling force flood through my body, I realize I'm going down, and then realize that I had no time or ability to do anything about it because I'm already on my butt with my legs sprawled out in front of me. After a few seconds, when the world is no longer black, I realize that as my head was turned down, DOWN, mind you, a few inches lower than if I had been standing fully upright, I slammed the top of my head into a kind of purposeless door way in the middle of the hall. There is no door attatched to it. Oh, no. Just a random booby trap for tall unsuspecting gaijin (foreigners). I have a very large knott.

So, if I survive Japan, I'll be a much stronger person... who may or may not have a short-term memory capacity by the end of it.

Celebrity

I will now be wearing a T-shirt that says, "It's ok to stare.  I'm kind of a big deal in Japan."

As if my natural charisma and jua de vive weren't enough, I will now have to work double time to fend of the babes and paparazzi because, that's right, my celebrity status is sealed--  I'm on film.

Of course, this film will probably sit in a box in an office storage room for about 22 years until an old janitor throws it out because a new company took over the suite, but until then, my fame is out there... somewhere.  Yes, yes, this was actually a performance review by my parent company, Interac.  Basically, they just want to film me and make sure that I don't absolutely wretchedly stink at my job.  (Don't worry, I didn't beat any of the kids too hard today, so I think it'll be fine.)

It went pretty well, except for the 30 seconds of crash and burn when the English teachers (yes, there were two Japanese nationals who are English teachers in the room) randomly sprung a new activity on me that was none too easy for the kids to follow.  So, they point at the earth, throw a parachute at me and shove me out of the plane.  At this point, I'm thinking it would be a good idea to put the parachute on and figure out how to keep this activity from splattering like a rotten tomatoe on Fozzie's face.  (Sorry, I'm mixing my metaphors with dead horses teeth that haven't hatched yet.)  Eventually, through a combination of the English teachers realizing the immanent crash-burn status of the class (which is being filmed in all its gorey detial) and walking down the isles practically doing the activity for the kids, and me grabbing the reigns from up front and pantomiming the whole thing so that everyone can understand without actually comprehending English) we managed to salvage the situation in under 30 seconds.  Let me just say, that's a long time when 35 students are looking at you with not just blank visage, but clearly fuddled and confused faces.

Confusion is an ugly beast.  As soon as it has a foot in the door, its in.  And then, it just barges through everywhere, destroying all processing centers and cutting off all memory banks... and then it spreads... to other students.  Once one kid gives any sign of being flustered, its like free licence for all nearby students to similarly wave the French Battle Flag.

You have to nip that in the bud and keep them looking at you.  Whatever you do, you can't let them settle into the fact that they don't get it.  You have to grab them by the soul through the eye sockets and keep 'em going. 

I think I was a field lieutenant in Nam in a former life.

So, that's the breaks in the teaching biz.  Its a fine line between dancing bear and puppet master.  Maybe the utter brilliance of it is that they think they're being entertained, but really, I'm twisting their minds into learning English beneath the radar of their wills.  Mwa ha ha ha.  Its so nefariously Machiavellian that it just might work.  They're aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive.  Aliiiiiiiiiive with Eeeeeeeeeeeenglish I tell you.  Eeeeeengliiiiiiish!  A ha ha ha.  Mwa ha ha ha ha.

I'm going insane here.  Somebody please mail me a ticket before I become one of them.  I feel it spreading.... the... yellow.... feavvvvvvvvvvv c

A rebuttal and a reflection

My favorite person to talk to about spiritual matters is Marshall Derks.  He has no qualms with laying into what he perceives as inerrancies, and always brings a hearty, sincere perspective to the inspection of matters of faith.  Recently he pointed out something in Paul's work that he felt was inconsistent, and this was my reply.

I really hope Marshall comes to know Christ as I know him.  I love him as a friend and would love, even more, to have him as a Brother.

He's getting married, by the way!  "Congradulations", if you ever read this, man!

So, this was my part of the discussion:

Well, that's an interesting highlight of an errancy in Paul's work... it does sound contradictory, on a certain level, that Jesus forgives people's sins before He has been ressurected, whereas Paul says very bluntly that without the ressurecion that there is no forgiveness... but I think that what Paul was saying is that no one can be forgiven at any point in history withouth Christ's act of atonement, but because He came in the middle of time, men at all times can receive forgiveness because God delayed judgement in the days before the Messiah through forebearance (that is from Isaiah).  Then after Christ, He can impart the righteousness that His Son earned by absorbing sin into Himself and destroying it in the grave.  Then, we, the lucky few who live after these wondrous things, are able to receive the Holy Spirit Himself.  Because Christ has finished the work of canceling sin, He can even come upon men and women and the human heart becomes the very tabernacle of God, and this very presence of the Holy Spirit is, in fact, the life of God returning into man.  What happens on the day that Christ returns-- when the dead are raised and both the living and the dead in Christ are clothed in new and glorious flesh, is merely the more complete work of what the Holy Spirit is already doing.

And, yes, I agree about the prosititute who bathes Christ's feet with spikenard.  She is forgiven because of her love.  And I think this is the answer to the question of faith vs. action.  Do you remember the passage in 2 Corinthians where Paul says that prophecy, knowledge, even faith will pass away?  I think that what he means there is that all things in this world are in a transitory state.  We are commanded to DO many things... but only for a time.  NOW, it is important to have faith, because it is the hour of darkness when man still lives under the cloudy veil of the flesh, though no longer under the veil of the old Law which condemned.   That was, quite literally, sundered by the Messiah at the hour of crufixion.  We are commanded to prophecy and to do acts of service unto widows and orphans, edifying one another and spreading the good news that God is Love and in Him is Light that can purge the darkness of the world and our own hearts... but again, even this will pass away, because God Himself will BE our light once every knee bows and every tongue confesses.  There will be no more need for Prophecy, because Christ will make all things clear.  We will no longer need to comfort the sorrowful, because Christ will wipe away every tear.  No one will be sick, none will hunger, there will be a tree whose leaves will be the therapy of the very nations... and yes I do believe that.  If not absolutely literally then I do at least believe that something that litereally executes this metaphorical role will be in the new Zion when God comes down to earth and reforges it as His dwelling place among men.

So, the answer to the debate between faith and action is this.  Neither.  Its love.  Love believes all, AND bears all.  You must love Him, or you will have faith in an idea.  You don't need an idea to save you.  You need a real Messiah... more real than you, because your sin has effaced your very personhood.  Its hard to swallow, but without forgiveness and purification, you are not even worthy of being treated as a person according to Paul.  You are an object of wrath.

So, which is more important, to perform or to believe.  Both, if they are healthy, are the doings of love.  They are like breathing and circulation.  It does you no good to do one without the other.  In a way they are the same thing- the cycling of oxygen and carbon dioxide through your body.  Carbon Dioxide is by no means a bad thing.  You woud die without it.  Its just that you need to take one of these in consistently, and you need to send one out consistently.  You need to believe within the bounds of your own heart... in the world of your will... at the seat of your desires, but you also need to transcend your consciousness and puncture the very walls of your heart... be pierced at heart with love... so that the faith that was poured into by God can be poured back out before His throne and upon His children.  Its a beautiful cycle.  More beautiful than Krebbs or Photosynthesis or meiosis or mitosis or the water cycle or even ocean waves.  It is THE cycle.  Worship.  It is what the world does when it does as it should.  It worships.  Even the rocks cry out.

What do you think?

&= Super-fat babies <"&=" being "somehow equals">

Mr. Knoll has expressed a bit of doubt at the prospect of any progeny of mine being at all fat, should it be born of an Asian mother.  To you, Mr. Knoll, I say:

 

Yes, yes, I see your point.  Fat... Asian.. HA!

 

I should have clarified that I meant super-fat only with respect to the fattitude which the said Japanese grandparents WOULD have expected the child to express.  Because of my contribution to his or her frame, however, the babe would possess far more rotundity than any purely Asian baby would be capable of.  I myself, though one might not think it to look at me now, or at any time past the age of 1 for that matter, was in fact a mega-fat baby.  I had more chins than China-town, my shadow weighed more than most premies, and my baby name of Junior Samples was well-earned, for no morsel nor victual was safe within the ravenous radius of my flabulescent arm which generated a sucking vortex of consumption into which all food-stuffs met their mastication.  Or so they tell me.  I was too busy growing to remember.  Puttin` on the pounds is hard work.

 

So, Mr. Knoll, thank you for the challenge.  I hope the clarification is sufficient... which is to say, torturesome to your soul in its loquacity and affectation.

For the Cause,
--
Joshua <{><

An excerpt from "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland", gratis Jonathan Coppadge

'Come, there's no use in crying like that!' said Alice to herself, rather sharply; 'I advise you to leave off this minute!' She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. 'But it's no use now,' thought poor Alice, 'to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make ONE respectable person!'"

-Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Lewis Carroll

Dancing Bear`s Log - Day three of Elementary School Teaching

Today I taught at Elementary school for the third time.  Four classes  back to back.  What a ringer.  They went really well, though.  The kids had a lot of fun, and that`s about 85% of what I`m there for.

 

Speaking of segues...

 

Someone asked me if I had found myself a Japanese girl yet.  And I answer:

 

I don`t think I would even want a Christian Japanese girlfriend/wife.  For the rest of our relationship she`d constantly be pulled from home... cause I sure as heck ain`t tying myself down to the island of Japan for the rest of my life just so her grandparents get to pinch the super-fat babies.  I may, don`t get me wrong, but she`d have to be pretty darn special.  I`m keeping my options open.  If I marry an American girl, we both have our families in America, and can launch out to anywhere else.  I`ve thought about this.

 

My friend also mentioned that when she was in Japan, she felt like she was living a long vacation or someone else`s life.  I concur.  Its neat and all, but I just have to ask myself... Do I want a cush job for the rest of my life?  The pay is ok, and compared to the `strain` pshaw, please, I could do this with my eyes closed and both hands and a foot tied behind my back while walking a tightrope wire and chewing gum laced with plastic explosives as I play Johnny Mathis on a harmonica using my nostrils in progressively different keys cause its a slide harmonica and I`m changing keys with my ears.  Really.  Its that easy. 

 

And I`ve never even heard Johnny Mathis.

 

But, I need to do something a bit more challenging with my brain and my heart, and I long to be in a place where Christ can use me to feed people.  Maybe child and adolescent psychology/ministry.  I love kids, but I prefer the smaller group interactions and one on one time the most.  Teaching can be fun, but I prefer searching things out with people, rather than trying to help them learn one particular thing.  We shall see.

 

Well everybody,

Until we meet again

On this blessed shore or the next,

Christ Keep You

I need soul glue

At this point, I`m not really feelin the year two thing, to be honest.  I find that the job is cush and that I don`t feel called or compelled to live here permanently, so learning Japanese has slid to the low priority pool, which, by the way, is CHOKED with the flotsam of well-intentioned pursuits.

 

Plus, I want to get my act together and get a degree and a wife or at least a job that pays well enough to save and then go to New Zealand or Fiji or whatever.  Two rather divergent desires.  An accurate dipstick of my inner status.

 

I`ve been doing a lot of crazy talkin` lately.

 

I feel like my internal monologe is a coin flipping and coming down time after time.  Heads says: Having no rudder and only the execution of the here and now has been grinding on me, and I just can`t seem to get it out of my system or get myself out of this rutt.  I have the feeling that I could do something great or more worthwhile or accesing of my talents, but I just don`t know what.  I`m not making much of a difference in these kids lives, I make crud for pay, I`m immersed in a language I won`t use for long, there`s no Christians anywhere nearby so I blow a ton of my budget just going to church. 

 

Tails says: Japan is cool.  I`m having fun.  I`m learning to discipline my life and my habits so that I live heathily and intentionally in body and spirit.  God is surfacing and forcing me to address the issues of my heart.  All in all, I`m glad I`m here and look forward to every day left in my time, and look forward to coming home.

 

Chad, this is where you get to say "I told you so," and where I point out that "I saw it coming and did it anyway" and you get to call me "crazy for doing it anyway" and I plead the fifth and say, "Yeah, but I just wouldn`t be me if I didn`t, would I?"

 

I need to get some soul-glue

And make one self from two.

 

Hangin tight with Jesus,

Josh

Worst Teaching Day Yet

so, I just watched a kid throw a wad of paper at a teacher`s face... and the kid just got away with it

the two of them got up out of their chairs and started talking at each other less than a foot apart, and the other teacher just walked up behind the kid, and tried to get him to come back with her.

and the little crap head just got away with it.

this has been, by far, the worst teaching day of my time in Japan.

i wanted to send that kid through the wall, so I just turned away and put my hand over my mouth and pretended I was somewhere else.  That was second period.  My only consolation is that it can only get better.

the Puppet Master

I think I have discovered my lost calling in the form of elementary school teacher.  I am just too goofy... I think I was born to do this.  The kids I taught today were amazing, too, though, so I`m sure they had a lot to do with it.

It seems like the big difference between elementary and junior high students is that the JH kids either have attitude, lazy-butt syndrome, think they`re too cool to listen to you, or are too shy to even look at you.  In elementary school these kids are still crazy headed little nut-jobs, but at least you can control them like puppets.  Get excited, and they catch it like a virus.  Calm down and use your commanding voice, and its like they`ve been hypnotized.

Of course, the only drawback is that it takes a lot of energy to play the puppet-master, and I am wiped out now.  I had a great time, though.

 

That was only one class.  On Tuesday I teach 4... back to back <shudder>.

-PMJ

They call me... Shika

So, a couple of weeks ago I was getting gas, and the attendant who was taking care of me busted out some English.  It was good.  I was impressed.  I tried using what little Japanese I knew in exchange, and he gave me the pitty compliment "Oh, your Japanese is very good." (Which UNIVERSALLY means, "you suck, but I`m polite" in Japan). 

 

I just ran into him again, about 5 minutes ago, at the community center where I am using the computer.  I looked over at him and said, "Oh, hello!"  About two or three seconds later he got the Gestalt look and said, Oh hello, back.  He asked me how I was or something like that, I told him I had just taught at Fukuroda Elementary School, which by the way went really really well, and we had some nice polite chit chat.  When he went to go, I extended my hand and my name.  This really surprised him... me offering to introduce myself and form an aquaintence with him.  In Japan, the line between the customer and the employee is ironclad and vast.  From what I understand, the principle extends to your fellow employees and whatnot.  Your work friends are your friends at work and NOT outside.

 

So, me bridging the gap and connecting with him meant more than it would in America, I think.  He told me his name, and when I repeated it to him to make sure I got it right, he said, "Please, call me Shika."  I could tell he thought it was cool, and so did I.  He works at the gas station where I go all the time, so I`m sure to see him again.  Maybe I can hang out with him again some time, we`ll see.

This has been a random Japan moment with Josh.  Tune in next time for... "Prices of various fried goods after mark-down hour at the Ecos" 

Christ Keep You All <{><

A picture is worth... not spoiling with words.

Steven, Hideko, Rie, and I went for a little weekend outing recently, and we had some fun with the side walk poles. Me and Steve have future jobs as stunt doubles for Quinten Tarantino and Jessie the Body Ventura.

Rainy Season in Savannah

I actually wrote this a couple of years ago, but its the same prayer I find myself praying these days. The issue of thirst seems to be of paramount importance to my spiritual life. "This is my blood. Drink in remembrance of me." I have not taken communion in months now, and I miss it. It is good to be thirsty, though. I don`t think we`re supposed to find oursleves feeling truly "full" or "slaked" until that Final day.

I wish this poem had more eloquence and refinement... the raw imagery feels a bit juvenile to me when I re-read it. But, its one of the most honest, and therefore best, poems I think I`ve written.

“Rainy Season in Savannah”

When the air is dry it hurts my eyes.
Thirsty, I pluck pebbles from the creek bed
To hurl them at the empty, open skies,
Imagining a deep-gray thunderhead.
I brace myself to split the stormy cloud,
Anticipating saturated nights,
When I may plunge, as draught has not allowed,
From muddy banks down fresh torrential flights
Of earthy blood that spills down thirsty land.
The open veins contain, though don’t restrain.
The dirt’s descending heart pumps into sand
The power to revive this parched terrain;
Unlike my body, circulating blood,
Your Life is boundless current, graceful flood.
Joshua P. Suich 2/18/05 – 3pm

Caught my first snake in Japan!

Today, I have been dripping blood from my sinus and reeling from fatigue and headpain after being sick for a week solid, but all was made right in the world when that moment of bliss descended up on my weary soul. My heart could scarcely contain the joy when my students ran to me saying "Sweechi, Sweechi, come, hebi, hebi!"

It was beautiful. I had seen one before when I had just finished climbing a mountain, a beautiful leafy green and pale flaxen ratsnake. I really should have looked at its head first, to check if it was poisonous, but I guess my instinct was good enough... which was a good thing because when I picked it up by the tail it managed to succeed where at least a half-dozen other snakes had failed, and reached back up to my hand and bit me. It actually didn`t hurt at all, because his teeth were so razor sharp that they slipped into my skin without any feeling. Once he was hanging by (wait... let me count) 9 teeth from he top of his mouth, I felt the wierd tugging sensation of little things under my skin, but even then it was barely recognizable as pain. Those things are SHARP! Whew.

I then placed (dropped) him on the ground and used a broom handle to pin his neck to the ground. Once I got a hold of him below the head, he curled up around my arm and placed his body over his head. He chilled out, and I took him for a tour of Minami Junior High School asking, "Sumimasen, kono hebi wa anatano des ka?" "Excuse me, is this your snake?" I finally found the owner (one brave soul who rose to the occasion and answered my joke with real English, "Oh, its mine!") When I tried to return said hebi to his rightful owner, the young man graciously bequeathed it to me and said, "Oh, no, you must have. You must... have." Of course, I most ardently acquired ownership and maintained the manhandling of the beast, but havning no propper domicile for a reptile, and having been recently forbidden from the ownership of animals in my apartment, I most dolorously divided ways from my new-found, ill-met, but prematurely parted scaly friend.

So anyway, this is a picture from the Web of one of his cousins. Nobody had a camera handy, and he had been a good sport and not pooped ALL over me (just a tad), so I let him off on good behavior. I couldn`t blame him for the bite.

Now if I can just get my hands on some decongestants and get away with my second snake bit not going septic, I`ll be healthy as a horse.

What a great scam

So I taught at an Elementary School for the first time this week! It was great. I loved it. I learned a few very important things, too.

1) Children are creatures of absolutely manipulatable impulse and appetite.
Corrilary: Get them excited and they will love it... this has NOTHING to do with how cool the activity actually is, or how difficult. Make them want to play, and they will work their brains into a smoking blaze.

2) They WILL grab the picture of Spiderman if it is within reach.
Corrilary: If you can`t find magnets to hold the pictures of Spiderman and Venom on the blackboard, DO NOT put them on the floor or you WILL spend the next 4 minutes trying... and I mean trying... to retreive them from the bottom of a dogpile of hot and sweaty 60 lb. Japanese bodies.
Corrilary: If you didn`t conceal it, it was meant to be taken on sight.

3) No amount of immune boosters will save you. Schools are germ-ridden hives of infectious snot-wads.
(I taught on Tuesday, and I`m STILL getting over it.)

4) No, that`s it. I only learned three things. I had a lot of fun, though, and only hope I don`t get ragingly, miserably sick again next time.

And now for the scam. I have discovered that Japanese school children will do almost anything for a sticker. They are all future gamblers, and so small shiny or colored objects that represent raw 'special points' will drive them into a frenzied lust for any token. So, Suich Sensei has established the economy of 1 1cm yellow smiley face sticker for a vigorous 30 second shoulder rub. Too weak or too short results in no sticker. The kids form a que to do this.

I have been making model paper castles in my free time at school. My free time vastly outweighs my actual work time. When I come back to America, I will be ruined.

I love my job.

Speaking of which, I am going to church in Fukushima (about 30 minutes north) tommorow. I am very excited. I`m meeting the Costanzo`s who live to the north. Apparently they have a circle of about a dozen Christian English teachers in the area. I may have struck pure gold here. I`ll report back ASAP.

Christ Keep You All,
Joshua P. Suich, aka スイっチ Sensei

My first church experience

so this saturday afternoon i hopped in the car and drove down to Chiba (im currently texting this blog entry while driving back, capitalizing on the traffic jam). i went to Oyumina/Honda church pastored by Dan Iverson. it was so refreshing and encouraging on so many levels.

My apologies to all, especially Grams who reminded me of the fact that I have not updated my blog in a while. I would plead bussiness, or lack of access to technology, but neither is the case.

Things are going very well in Japan. I was very sorry to hear about the shootings in Virginia and elsewhere. There is a psychologist from Mito, the big city an hour and a half to the south, who comes to my Junior High school once every week or so. We discussed how frequently things like this occurred in our countries. I could tell he wanted to put the best face on Japan, as I did for America, but we both had to admit that even decent countries have some very damaged individuals. Dad, you will enjoy this, we discussed the comparative virtues of Freudian and Yeungian methodologies. Yes, his English was excellent, and yes, it was a very basic converstaion, ha ha.

I am more than half-way through my first month at my second school, and I find that I have become very attatched to the ni-ninsei class, or second-year (8th grade equivalent) at both schools. I know already that I will be sorry to leave them, or for them to leave me, however that comes to be.

I say things like, sumimasen (excuse me) and arigatou gozaimasu (thank you) without thinking, and I am beginning to at least recognize most of the elements of the kanji. Even if I don`t know it, I have at least seen and identified the parts of most of the daily ones.

Learning conversational Japanese is hard without a tutor. Speaking of which, I am now tutoring a young woman by the name of Hideko. We meet once a week and I get a free meal and a nice hourly fee to have fun chatting in English. What a gig. Her family is very kind, and they are always very happy to see me. The mother feeds me from the moment I walk in the door, and the father will get me drunk under the table unless I decline his pouring. I wasn`t able to stop him the first time... and I don`t remember much of the next morning, but after that, we found a nice balance.

I have spiders the size of small American housepets living outside my apartment... check that... hanging, nay, lurking above the walkway to enter my apartment, and on the back porch. I played spider ball with my broom last night, but one of them, which I thought I hit particularly hard, was 2/3 of her way through reconstructing her web in the same spot from which I smacked her 20 feet away. These things aren`t natural, I tell you. They`re not quite the size of tarantulas, but those at least have the decency to not hang over your head by the dozens, RIGHT outside your door. Argh.

Steven and I have developed a good friendship. We watch each others backs, have a few laughs, watch Japanese TV shows like Proposition Daisakusen (Operation Love, and do dinner together most nights. Hmmm... when I put it that way it sounds like a girlfriend. Well, I can at least say he`s not crazy, so maybe this is preferrable.

I have been making games for my students, and they have really loved them.

Souji time! (Cleaning Time) Ggrabs a broom and make it shine. Goly gee its Souji time!

...and I quote...

My friend and next door neighbor Steven Wagner, aka Shirokuma, ie White Bear, fellow English teacher, fellow Georgian in exile, and a man of fine character and whit, has many a time lifted my spirits with his humor. On one such occasion as we were discussing the many affable quirks of Nippon while walking back with groceries, two dudes on very effeminate and rinky looking motorcycles drove by. I commented that they were not very "cool" as bikes went, and Steven offered this as a rebuttal.

"No, dude, they`re cool, you see. You just don`t understand cause you`re not from here. Somehow, the notion of being macho in Japan has managed to incorporate freshly tweezed eyebrows."

Point and Match. Well played Mr. Wagner. Well played.

Made it

So, I made it. Though, twice I thought I might not, I have in fact lived to tell the tale. Please forgive the wretched grammar of my previous post. It was done from a cell phone in the dead of night with animals running around my "tent", so I plead paranoid fear as the cause of my poor word choice. One time during the night a breeze picked up and lifted my tent such that it scraped against a branch making, and I am not exadurating here, a noise that was JUST like a growl. All the other scrub was so flimsy it just made a scraping noise, but this... whew, my heart rate jumped to somewhere around 288 and I just laid there saying, "That was NOT a bear, it was a twig. That was NOT a bear, it was a twig. That was NOT a bear, it was a twig." It was, of course not a bear, but my primative brain, charged with keeping me alive, would hear none of it for at least a half-hour. It was a blessed releif when I heard raccoons cooing and muttering a few feet from my tent because then, at least, I knew there weren`t any bears immediately near by. Its funny what being alone in the dark on top of a mountain with nothing but a sleeping bag and a tarp will do to your sense of welfare.

The climb itself proved to be intensely grueling and occasionally perilous. I only really fell once, and fortunately it was onto a ledge of moss and cushy leaves. Had I done that in one of dozens of other places, I wouldn`t be here now. There was one point, during my descent, where I had lowered myself down into a scenario where I had to choose which path was less likely to get me killed. I really did not like that. I had to either skim across a rock slide that went straight down for 30 meters and then dropped off for 15 meters, or climb straight up above me along a face of loose rock and lyriope. I chose the lyriope over the rock slide. Lets just say I`m never solo climbing an unknown face again.

Lessons learned:
1. Check out your gear before you go camping with it. Make sure you bought a tent and not a tarp.
2. Addendum to #1 - Do the same with your sleeping bag. Make sure it isn`t total crap like mine was.
3. Never judge by chance what can be decided by wisdom, especially when your life is on the line.
4. Don`t go sleeping in the woods with marauding bears if you don`tw want to die... or bring an air horn so as to scare them away or to at least go out with a bang.
5. Most woodland creatures are more scared of you than you are of them... unless its the dead of night and you`re freaking out. They`re right at home. Mwa ha ha ha.
6. If you are going to lug a pack up a mountain, take out the 20 pounds worth of "tent" poles that you`re not even going to use BEFORE you make a vertical ascent.
7. Granola is a good enough trail food. `Pocari Sweat` tastes like grapefruit and vomit flavored water when you are desperately thirsty.
8. Addendum to #7- Japanese sport drinks, as a rule, are NOT cool.
9. When faced with a scenario in which your inability to hold on to a root, or said roots inability to support you weight, has the consequence of your death and/or dismemberment, you should definitely pray and make sure that you are right with your Maker.
10. In the words of Winston Chuchill and the Spirit of our Lord, "Never give up. Never give up. Never give up."

on a mountain

well i am alone, stuck on a mountain. somehow i planned this, although now it feels like my famous impulsivity at work. i think thats mostly because i now feel exactly what i knew i was asking for- solitude. i havent really had it for a long time... ironically, im emailing from my cell phone in the midst of said quest, though that has as much to do with the fact that the bears in japan, unlike their wussy eastern american cousins, eat or maul their run-ins rather than run. (i skipped my dinner of granola and instead double bagged the unopened bags, and threw them away from my "tent" instead. i dubify the noun with quotes, for it is merely a tarp suspended betwixt strings. and right now as i can hear the night critters stirring, i really wish i had a zipper btw me and them.

Doing Dishes

So this may sound rather obscure, but I must say, doing my dishes this morning was quite an event at my place. I had been collecting a hearty 'pile' of them, or rather, several respectable piles, and this morning, when I woke up at the crack of 10 after sleeping for 13 hours, I opened the doors at both ends of my apartment and spent the next hour and a half cleaning all of them. Aaaah. What a day. I now have days worth of clean flatware, bowls, and pans. Come at me world, I'm ready for you.

Yosakoi

I did Yosakoi today! Yosakoi is a modern form of traditional Japanese Dance. Yes, yes, I know that's a oxymoron. Some college students decided to ressurect some old traditional dance styles from the south of Japan and jazz them up, just a bit. It was way fun. I danced for an hour... well, I tried to dance for an hour. I have not learned the dances, so I tried to dance with them. It was hard, and very fast, and very fun. The dances are based, in part, off of the folk dances of Okinawa, where fishing was/is a major fascet of life. Consequently, most of the moves are derrived from the motions of hauling nets. It is very beautiful to watch and invigorating to do. There are lots of sweeping gestures, and pantomimes of pulling on ropes and whatnot. Tre' cool.

When I got too tired to keep up, I played with the little children. One boy, Naruto, played with me for a long time. I threw him up in the air and fought Karate with him. He loves to pretend to fight with me. He smiles all the time, and laughs at me. Some of the girls taught me Japanese, and I taught them English. I liked that a lot.

I'm going back on Friday to learn more. Wednseday night is overview time. Friday is intensive learning. A lot of one on one apparently. We'll see. Maybe I've found one of my niches in Japan.

Oyasumi nasai!

Fukuroda no Taki... the adventure, the ascent, the asthma

Yesterday I went to Fukuroda no Taki with the other English teachers in Hitachi-Omiya, a bigger city about a half-hour away. The Falls have 3 or 4 major levels of spill areas where the waters collect and then overflow again. Its quite impressive. There is a stairway path that leads up the side of the mountain next to the falls. One of the beauties of Fukuroda no Taki is that, as huge as it is, its nesteled between two mountains. To go up from the base of the falls to the top of them takes about 1000 steps. Your legs are burning and shaking by the time you're just a third of the way up, and you're heaving for breath at two-thirds. For the last third, you're doubled over, with one hand pushing off your leg, and the other pulling yourself up the guard 'rail', which is a real rail for a very small portion, a thin steel pipe for most (where there IS one) and chain at other places. Then, when you're taking in the breathtaking beauty of the falls, you look and see that the path keeps going... up to the TOP of the mountain that towers to the right of the falls as you face them. You say to yourself, "Self, we've come this far, it'd be a SHAME not to go all the way." I think that may have been an 80's power-ballad. So you do it. And all the pain pays off, cause when you get to the top, you're as high as you can possibly get (give or take 100 feet) for hundreds of kilometers. And yes, you can see that far if the moisture is low.

When I got to the top the first time (long story) I looked out across the valley that Fukuroda no Taki is nestled into the corner of, and saw a beautiful bare rock face that covers the top portion of the opposite mountain. It is a few hundred feet tall and about as wide, and it has smears of red and grey from the minerals in the rock. As I was admiring it, I saw a raptor of some kind dive off the top of the mountain and plummet for a couple of hundred feet and then in an instant throw his wings open, catch the air, and sharply swoop from a straight dive to a soar straight out across the valley. It was fantastic. If you're ever in Ibaraki, go to Fukuroda no Taki. It was worth every drop of lactic acid in my muscles, and lead in my veins... or at least it felt like my blood turned to lead at around 1,500 feet. I have no clue how high up we were, but it was as high as the highest stuff in North Georgia. All their mountains are WAY steeper than ours, so its weird seeing mountains that are almost like home, but creepily different in that subltle and eerie way.

I climbed it with Blake and Annie. Richard, who is chronically afraid of heights pushed up a third of the way. I was very proud of him. He kicked his fear's butt.

So cheers. May you find an opportunity to beat your fears too. Just find something that pushes your envelope and then keep pushing back!

My first Kancho...

The school I'm at is great. The teachers are great, the kids love me, and I can already see them making process and getting excited about learning English. They eat up every shred of goofyness, and love the fact that I'm so strange and white and tall. Now the bad. The youngest kids love trying to grab me in the crotch and give me the 'kancho'. We, at Interac, like to call it 'el Kancho.' El Kancho is when you put your hands together and make a very James Bond looking gun with your hands, and then, when your victim presents his/her target, you get your kancho up their bunghole. Its a sick game, and I don't know how it got started, but its as Japanese as rice and green tea, apparently. These people are depraved. I love them, but yikes.

Japanese school lunches more than make up for being violated, though. I had some slammin curry today, and it has never been anything less than extremely good.

In short, yes, I was taken advantage of, but at least I got lunch.

First Day of School, and First Enkai! (Company Par-TAY)

My first day of school was great. A slew of kids came up to me of their own accord and asked me questions. (Mostly, "How big are you?") I tried to tell them how big I was in feet, but they only know the metric system, so I took my shoe off at told them my shoe size in centimeters. They freaked out. Apparently 30 cm is quite unheard of over here.

Some of them are very good at English, and some of them are just very brave. I'll take both. One girl, who spoke less English than any other kid who came up to me, managed to convince me that she was going to be the next Japan Idol. I think she's got a shot. Plenty of spunk.

At the end of the day, I had my first ENKAI!!! It was pretty cool. After school, we all went to a really super-nice restaurant where the food was incredible and my glass was never allowed to go dry. Its kind of a neat way to do it. You are never allowed to fill your own glass, because that would be like saying that your host isn't looking out for you. Consequently, I had about a dozen people assiduously top me off over the course of the night. I tried to take small sips so that I wouldn't get too shnookered. The Principal, on the other hand, really enjoyed himself. He rolled up his pants, took off his socks, and tied his tie around his head. The other teachers picked up his socks and pointed and laughed at them. They're a pretty fun crowd.

So then, just when the party seemed like it was about to die... Karaoke. At the end of the enkai, we all went to the local karaoke club in Daigo to take the party to the next level. It was quite a blast. These Japanese LOVE their karaoke. The senior English teacher got up their first and sang some Japanese pop song about being south-paw (yes, a song about being left handed). It even has its own little motion that you do whenever you sing 'south paw'. You do something funny with your fingers like pinch them together, and then sweep your left arm down and away. They all got a huge kick out of this. I guess we do funny things like that too, but it was just bizzare, because I had NO context for the humor of it.

I sang a few duets with the pricipal, who had his tie around his head, and was definitely enjoying himself as much as anyone else there. (During the dinner party he invited me over to his house for sushi, unagi, and to meet his 23 year old daughter who, he pointed out very dramatically, is ALSO 23!) I may or may not go. Though the prospect of more unagi (freshwater eel) is enough to draw me into even immanent danger, so I may have to.

They loved the fact that I sang at the karaoke club. I did eagles, beatles, stevie wonder (They picked that one. I didn't even know it. ha ha) I even tried to sight read some Japanese with them for the Japanese pop songs. I managed to pick up a few words and keep of for a few verses (or at least snippets of verses.) This downright shocked them. I was quite pleased with my bad self.

So yes, Karaoke is fun, and its very different in Japan. And where else does a 23 year old guy get to sing "Stand By Your Man" by Tammy Wynnet in front of all his co-workers and actually get a modicum of respect for it? (By the way, it was painfully akward. By no means do I endorse the solo performance of that song by a solo male artist. Ouch)

I get my car today!!! YAAAAAY! Suzuki Wagon R. Its an oversized shoe box with 10" wheels. Well, maybe 12". Either way, it is my ticket to ride, and therefore escape the mind-numbing boredom of my apartment which is filled with strewn clothes, a 99 cent hand towel which I use after showers, and two bricks of Ramen. (I think you understand how much I'm looking forward to my first paycheck now.)

In spite of the poverty, crazy schedules, and distance from friends and family, Japan is a wonderful experience. If you can hang tight during the waves of self-doubt and physical exhaustion, then the challenge of absorbing something very foreign and very beautiful can be a real joy. My Japanese is coming along quite well. Now that I'm seeing Kanji (Japanese/Chinese picture words) in their native environment, I'm picking them up more quickly. I can even write a few of them faster than I can think of them. I guess that means that they're memorized somewhere between my brain and my hand. Full body memorization, ha ha.

Well, I'm off to pick up my car. All I need is my licence and my personal stamp (hanko... its like a signet ring, only its a stick instead of a ring. You use it to give your legal/official signature) Now where did I leave that thing...

Day three... complications with the natives...

So, Josh, Josh, and Steven get into their car full of optimism and gusto and toodle along to the Wonder Goo (yes that is the name of the store... pretty much Nihhon-jin Best Buy) to get keitai`s (cell phones). They do so with the clear impression that all you need is a passport (to validate your identity) and a credit card (to pay) because this is what several other people have done in the very recent past. You can imagine their chagrin when Josh #2 and Steven were rejected, because they did not have their full alien registration cards. You might think that this was absurd, but you would be wrong. This is just a day in the life of Japan. Abrupt, unnecessary, and rigid policy change is just ONE of the many quirky little things that make this Island run like only Japan can run. Gotta stamp EVERYTHING with red ink, and gotta follow 'policy.' Accept these two things, and you have embraced two of the seven pillars of Japanese bureaucracy. I hope to discover the other 5 and record my findings.

Well, I`m off to the Daiso to stock up. Cheers everyone!

Done with training... off to DAIGO!!!

In a couple of hours, I will shove off from Tokyo's Asakusa Central Hotel, and spend the night in Mito. In the morning, I will frantically run around trying to convince the town of Daigo-machi that I am a real person, and that I am really here. Then I will get an apartment, and a car, and a keitai (cell phone). Then I will crash.

Steven Wagner, from the Atlanta area, will live in apartment 102. I will live in 101. 6,500 miles from home, and I live next door to another Georgia boy from 2 hours away. Small world.

I will be split between two junior highs, and 3 elementary schools. This is gonna be IN-TENSE.

The jet lag is crazy. I'm doing my best to be genki (fine, happy, swell, upbeat) and keep everyone else the same. I'm really looking forward to being in Daigo and seeing my 'home' and getting a feel for the town, wandering around in the woods, and just breathing deeply.

I must say, there are some rather overwhelming undercurrents of emotion, already, but I'm so happy to be here, and can't wait for the adventure ahead.

Now where did I put my train ticket....

日本語で Nihongo de 'in Japanese'

This, ladies and gents, would be Daigo-machi. The name of Daigo is smack in the middle of the picture. It's three characters that look like an upside-down 'V' with a horizontal bar, a funky 7 with a horizontal bar, and another one with a box on the left with a cross in it, crammed up against a small 't'. Good luck, he he.

Well, I'm off to re-pack... for the third time... and probably not the last.

Remote Publish

What's green and has wheels?

Grass! I lied about the wheels.

Crisis Averted... Nothing to see here folks.

Do you know what makes me really happy? Not losing my passport.

I realized a few days ago that it wasn't where it should have been, and I figured it had gotten placed in a pile of stuff or fell under the bed. I poked around, didn't find it, and put off actually finding it for tommorow. Well, last night rolled around, and I REALLY looked, and couldn't find it anywhere... and I mean ANYWHERE.

I was up until 2 hunting and praying. This morning I was supposed to drive to Miami to pick up my work visa, but I realized that w/o the passport, it wouldn't do me any good. They would have to re-issue a new work visa for a new passport, and even the expedited passport would take 2-3 weeks. So I came home again and took my room and the stuff that I had packed apart, bit by bit. Let me tell you, few things are as demoralizing as unpacking your stuff for a huge trip before you even get there. Its like admitting defeat, psychologically.

So my mom sudgests, "Maybe you left it at the consulate." I say, "Mom! No. (With a very sure, almost demeaning tone.) I'm sure I didn't do that. I mean, I'll call, but I am positive that I did not do that. I remember looking in my backpack and seeing it in there, while I was on the beach, after I left the consulate." (Keep in mind, I regularly manufacture my own memories on a regular basis.)

And now, let us read from the book of Second Humiliations 3:19

"And Lo! Joshua was in most grave error, and did make an utter fool of himself!"

Me and my brilliant forethought, which have learned to save me from myself, had left my passport with the official at the embassy ON PURPOSE so that I wouldn't lose the passport while I was waiting for the visa to get processed. Brilliant, huh? I know, I know, a very clever move. Actually remembering that I had done that and saving myself a real crisis of patience and faith would have been equally nice. Though, I must say, it is good to have all the benefits of a crisis of faith without any of the actual dangers that would would make the crisis at all dangerous.

So, all is well. I'm driving back down to Miami tommorow to pick it up, and all is well.

Crisis averted. 6 days to take off, and all I gotta do is repack. Whug.

My side of Japan...

This is a map of Daigo-machi and the surrounding area. I will be somewhere in Daigo for the coming year, teaching English in the public school system. Its a pretty neat area, from what I've been able to gather.

There are hot springs all around... Japan being a not-so-dormant volcanic island, after all. It gets so cold in the winter, though, that nearby Fukuroda no-taki, which is Fukuroda Falls, the third most beautiful waterfall in Japan, freezes solid. People even ice climb up it apparently!

Well, that's the breakdown on my little village. As always, if you're reading this, you've got a place to stay when you come to visit Nihhon! Sayonara <{><

The countdown begins... 9 days, 17 hours

This is the home stretch, the final ten days before take off. At 9:36 AM I will fly out of Tampa, FL, and will land at Narita Airport in Tokyo, Japan at 4:20 PM Tokyo time. All in all, that should take about 18 hours. I'll have to sleep on the plane, because otherwise I will be staying up for about 36 hours straight, and I don't think I've ever even broken 25 consecutive hours of consciousness.

People ask, "Are you nervous?" I should probably be more nervous than I am, but I've got Chad Hubbard and Cynthia Suich being nervous for me. That's more than enough. Plus, I'm more concerned about my Dad going to Kenya. All in God's hands, and all in good time. I've never found anxiety to be a worthy mate.

9 days and 17 hours to launch. Now where did I put those Japanese flashcards?