June 27, 2008
One of my favorite things about my Japanese co-workers is their almost childlike innocence. I suppose it stems from their lack of vocabulary, but I like to imagine that this is how they actually talk with other adults.
Take, for example, the conversation I had with Spiky-sensei yesterday. I had cnn.com open to an article with an unflattering picture of Boy George (aren't they all these days? Put down the Twinkie, George!) about his inability to get a US visa, and Spiky-sensei stopped in his tracks.
Spiky: He is...dead?
Lauren: No. He just can't get a visa to the US.
Spiky: Oh...but he is gay.
Lauren: Yes, he is. But still no visa.
Spiky: Who is dead?
Lauren: Um, George Carlin? Do you know him? (I open a picture.)
Spiky: Eeeeh, no. I don't know. Is he gay?
Lauren: I don't think so.
Spiky: Do you know Queen? Freddy Mercury?
Lauren: Yes, he is dead.
Spiky: Also, he is gay.
So there's the highlight of my lunch hour. Maybe I should present him later with a Venn Diagram of Dead People Vs. Gay People, and we can chat about it more at a later date.
My students, however, are not that innocent (♫ Oh, baby, baby).
I'm in charge of a group of kids who clean the bike rack area every day after school. They rotate classes, and every so often I get a lovable bunch of hooligans who suddenly can speak all the English they "forget" in the classroom.
I asked them their names a few months back, because I couldn't read the kanji, and the 4 boys introduced themselves as Lucy, Catherine, Bob, and Robot Gonzales.
Hooligans I tells ya.
So yesterday I was getting them to clean the top floor of the bike area, and they were complaining as best they could.
Robot: Finished!
Lauren: You're not finished. Today, we clean the second floor.
Lucy: But tomorrow is holiday.
Lauren: Tomorrow's not a holiday.
Lucy: Yes. Cleaning holiday.
Lauren: Let's go. If you are fast, we will finish soon.
Robot: But Lauren-sensei, you are so cute.
Lauren: No, I'm not. Cleaning!
Lucy: Very cute.
Lauren: Thank you, but we're still cleaning.
Robot: There is nothing.
Lauren: What? I see trash right there!
Robot: Oh, good eye! Good eye!
Lucy: No, beautiful eye.
Robot: Beautiful eye. We are finished now.
And with no more trash in sight of my one beautiful eye, I reluctantly let them finish. Then they always mistake the "Good job" I tell them in English at the end of cleaning for the Japanese counterpart "Otsukaresamadeshita," which I think means half goodbye, half thanks for working hard today. And in Japanese, everyone just says it to each other, no matter who actually did the work. So when I dismiss everyone, I bow and tell them "Good job!" for their cleaning, and they all respond with a hearty "Good job!" I guess for ordering them around so well. I love this country.
June 16, 2008
I wanted to round off my stay in Japan by remembering some things I'll miss about my time here, and some things I will be ever so happy to be without when I leave.
Today's topic: Restaurants!
I'll miss so much about restaurants. No tipping, for one thing, which is just a godsend. Being a former waitress, I do feel strange not giving someone a monetary appreciation for a job well done, but when you're dining out with a huge group, it really makes things go smoother. No one is shafted. The normal human beings don't overcompensate in tips because the cheap people didn't account for gratuity. Also, tax is incorporated into the menu price (Can you imagine?), so when you've got a huge group splitting a bill, you just open the fucking menu and get out a calculator. And no one pays over, no one rounds up. If your bill is 3,999 yen, and you leave 4,000 this waitress will follow you to the damn train station to give you your one yen piece back. It's glorious.
What I will NOT miss is tiny, tiny glasses. I didn't think they made glasses this small. And no one in Japan seems to care. There are also no refills on soda or anything, unless you pay double to get "Drink Bar," which is basically an overhyped Soda Fountain you would find in any KFC for no additional charge in the states.
I will not miss not getting napkins. Forget about cloth napkins, which I will wrap around my head with glee like a babushka once I finally see them again. The paper napkins literally feel like a piece of paper. A tiny piece of paper. They are about as absorbent as the receipt, and I'll be they could just save money by just shoving old receipts in the napkin holder.
But if these few things would change, dining in Japan would be a flawless experience. Well, besides the food, of course. But that's another entry.
June 15, 2008
Holy crap. When I put it like that, it's damn near uncanny.
...
June 11, 2008
After many, MANY people's attempts to teach me poker, something finally sunk in a few weeks ago. My dad "taught" me when I was little, and I could get the rules just fine, but I didn't understand why people bluffed or to what end.
I played once on the ski bus in high school and lost all my Sour Patch Kids to a chick who had four queens, beating my three aces, which I had calculated to be a statistical impossibility. Male friends the world across have sat down to try and indoctrinate me into this one realm of guyhood I'd never yet been able to understand, and could not truly call myself a tomboy if I didn't master.
Then last week, something clicked, and now I'm hooked, along with my friend Bex. Charlotte and Gabe tag along for the LOLs, and Dave and Kevin bring their poker faces and empty wallets in which to soon collect all our yennies.
Unfortunately, I am the worst liar in the world. Unfortunately, certain friends of mine know me very well, and like to exclaim to the table "Lauren's got 2 kings; I fold" because apparently it's a "tell" if you start twitching and giggling uncontrollably when the "flop" is displayed.
Here are some other very important things I've learned in the two weeks I've been playing.
- When you have a certain good hand, do not start humming the "Full House" theme song.
- If you have a straight, don't count the numbers with your fingers, even if you have OCD and you can't be sure you've had such good luck if you don't count the numbers out 5 times. You have a straight, it's true. Now work it.
- Asking for the paper with the winning hand combinations written on it is also considered a "tell."
- People don't actually say "too rich for my blood" when they fold, and if they do, their friend Kevin makes fun of them for it.
- Wearing a green visor IS actually a prerequisite, and if you lend it to Bex, she will win all your money.
- Lauren never bluffs. Kevin always bluffs. Unless you decide to call him. Then he has a royal flush.
- Holy shit, I just got why people say "call your bluff." Wow. I feel alive for the first time in my life.
- After you finish playing and head for the last train, do not talk to the drunken man who owns the winery next door. He will point at you and call you "Bill Gates." Even if you insist you are a woman and take off your glasses, he will still insist, "Yes, beautiful, but Bill Gates."
I look forward to many more weekends of losing my money to Bex, Kevin, and Dave.
--Beautiful Bill Gates
June 10, 2008
I'd like to watch a game show where the contestants close their eyes and try to tell the difference between Conor Oberst's singing and a bleating goat.
It should be called either "More Like Conor GOATBerst, Am I Right, Guys?" or "Bah-right Eyes"; I haven't decided. I'll let you know when I've had more sleep.