We all knew this blog would come. It is now time to discuss, Cheburashka, or as they say in Japan “Cheburaashika”. For the sake of my typing, we’ll just call him Chebu.Let me just start by saying that the Japanese abso-possi-lutely LOVE Chebu like he was one of their very own. And why not? He is small, fuzzy, has large, innocent eyes, and a cute voice: all these things make for a winning combination in Japan. Some people even know the Chebu theme song or that he is actually a Russian character. But everyone knows that he is adorable. My friend’s host-family were thrilled when she and I started talking about him on skype one day. In the background, I could hear them all start cooing, “Cheburashka is so cute! How does she know him? What an adorable little bear!” My Japanese professor back at Witt had a Chebu key chain. When I asked her about it, she didn’t have a clue as to who he was, but told me that this little character showed up everywhere in Japan. I didn’t really believe her at first, but since I have come here, I’ve bumped into Chebu a couple times; an advertisement flyer for Jujutsu club, a shrine of Chebu merchandise at a store in Kichijoji, and recently he was in a prominent fashion magazine!
That’s right, folks, you heard it here first, Chebu appeared in these two page spread in Japan’s Nanno Magazine, a very popular fashion magazine for teens and young women. He was right between the Nordic sweaters and leg warmers, if memory serves. The advertisement was for a history show of sorts that will start mid-December and is all about little Chebu. The web address is
I was just so shocked to see him pop up again, but I really shouldn’t be. Wouldn’t you know, he’s been in Japan longer than I have, so he’s like my sempai.
p.s. I’m writing this entry in the Yearbook clubroom and Anna walked in. Apparently, she’s a die-hard Chebu fan and her friends gave her Chebu stickers for her planner. Also, she says that there is a Chebu anime!!! I told her about the road show and she got super excited! She says that it is probably a movie about Chebu, but I can find out more later.
My favorite Ramen shop (not the one that makes me sick, but the one right next to that one) is kind of expensive, and I was thinking that I should go out to different places every now and again. Not that I don’t love my Ramen shop (they give people free curry and rice, and girls get free dessert, yum!) but other places have different items on the menu. Gutara Ramenya, it isn't you, it's me. No, on second thought, it is you. Sorry.
So coming back from church, Saturday night, I stopped off in a side street, and squeezed myself into one of the many tiny, tiny ramen shops. There was only one old man working, but you could tell that he had everything down pat. I got some soba noodles, concentrated miso soup and a few gyoza to top things off. Just to make sure I knew how to eat it, the man was nice enough to explain the noodle/soup combo to me. I still don’t think I was doing it right, but I tried my best. It was surprisingly spicy, but that was fine by me. I used the gyoza to absorb the last of the sauce and soup. Very tasty!! I’ll have to try a different store next time. Haha, but probably not the one where the salary men sing traditional Japanese enka.
I have been soooooo Orthodox deprived, it is not even funny! But I had a free weekend for once and a set of directions, so I made my way to the closest Orthodox Church for a strong dose of Vigil (vespers and matins one after the other). Yet, by “close” what I really mean was…..not….close. The not-so-close-church was the Russian-Japanese Cathedral of Tokyo (score!!) and is an hour and a half away from my dorm. If I ride my bike to the train station, it would only cost me $4.50 to ride the train from Musashi-sakai to Ochanomizu. I was pretty worried about finding my way there, though. I knew how to get to the city, but the Japanese aren’t too big on street names so once I arrived, I would have to just go by arrows and city maps. Also, the Japanese Christian population is only around 1 or 3 percent, so if I stopped for directions, would anyone even know what I was talking about? And the church was 200 meters away from the station; that sounded so far off! Would I make it in time for the service?!
Luckily for me, I don’t know a thing about the metric system! All my worries were unfounded. It turns out, 200 meters is about 1 city block. As for directions, someone stuck this helpful sign up in the train station’s main exit and the street was covered in arrows pointing me towards the church. And, even in Tokyo, a cathedral is still a cathedral, so once I got close, the onion dome and iconography gave it away. Yahoo, Orthodoxy!!
(Side note: I got in a bicycle accident on my way to the station. But it wasn’t my fault! Anyway, I’m fine, just a few scratches on my right arm, but my basket is this really funny shape now. At first I was a little miffed, but it actually holds stuff better now, so all is well.)
The church was actually in a complex, but the main building wasn’t hard to spot. The Japanese man who went in before I did was obviously a little lost and seemed to be exploring for the first time. One of the stewards noticed, though, and was able to help him out. Now, I’m pretty foreign looking, so most people would guess that I’m Ortho, but I decided to not take any chances, put my veil on outside, and walk in like I was a regular.
This. Church. Was. Stunning! In true Russian style, everything was intricately carved or molded, decorated in gold and silver, there were hardly any chairs, and there were candles everywhere. The icons were big and all in the older, Russian style (a lot different from the Greek, Jerusalem, and Antiochian ones I’m used to). The dome itself was plain white, but in the center of the dome hung a huge chandelier right above a raised platform where the bishop would stand. Besides having the main iconostasis, there were two smaller ones on either side, each with a set of royal and deacon’s doors. In front of one of these smaller iconostasis is where two of the priests held confessions between the vespers and matins parts. The choir stood on the other side and contained mostly sopranos and tenors, I feel. The songs were all the Russian ones I knew, but were done in Japanese, sung high-pitched, in an echoing room, so I couldn’t really catch the words. The main alter-man (I’m guessing 25 at the youngest) was also the designated reader and, let me tell you, he knew his stuff! He just read those psalms like it was his job, which it was, but went so fast that, once again, I couldn’t catch the words. The main priest’s Japanese sounded so much like Chinese to me that I couldn’t understand what he said either.
“Um, Alexandra, if you didn’t understand what was being said, what was the point?”
Good question, I can see why you’d ask that. All orthodox services are the same in any language. The priest does the exact same thing at the exact same time in an English service as every other priest does in a Greek, Arabic, Russian, Japanese, Ethiopian, Spanish, etc. service. The actions, equipment, songs, and prayers are all the same, but the style and language is the only difference. So even though I didn’t know exactly what they were saying, I knew, “At this point we are doing a litany and praying for there to be peace and prosperity.” Also, I knew what I was supposed to do because protocol for the laity is the same everywhere as well. So, I knew what they were doing and what would come up next, it was just that they were doing it all in code. Not only was it Japanese, but it was honorific keigo Japanese! Go back a few posts for a short rant about keigo, or just wait for a few more posts after this; I will complain about it again.
Anyway, there were a few things I’d like to point out about. 1) There are a lot of foreigners there! Besides my wonderfully exotic, America self, there were several other foreigners and one of the three priest that night was Caucasian, too. So, if I need a priest who speaks English (which I’m pretty sure he does), I’ve got one in Ochanomizu. 2) There is a strict no camera rule inside Orthodox Churches in Japan. When I was first researching about them, I couldn’t find any YouTube videos or internet photos of a typical Japanese-Ortho service or the interior of a Japanese Church. It turns out that for some reason or another, the Japanese-Ortho are really protective about taking photos/videos inside the church. Outside is fine, but not inside, so I won’t be able to show you what the inside looks like, I’m afraid. 3) They were training a new altar boy! He wasn’t young, but he was clueless – probably his first Vigil, I think. He kept getting in trouble for not placing the candle where he was supposed to, how he was supposed to, or when he was supposed to. Also, he kept forgetting to kiss the priest’s hand. Every time he messed up, he’d just do a lot of little bows and the older altar guys would give him this understanding look. It was very cute and I’m sure he’ll get it right the next time. Do your best, Alter Lad!
For more information about this particular church, you can visit this website. Or this website. It is your choice, really.
So, the freshmen from Wadaiko club organized a hiking trip to Mount Takao, but I was not able to go, and stayed in bed for most of the day. “That’s alright,” I consoled myself, “they will be going out to dinner later on and you can just meet up with them later.” Some of the OYRangers were nice enough to text me about dinner, but got the times wrong. Long story short, I showed up an hour late to the station, waited 40 minutes for no one to come, then went out for sushi when I heard that they were pretty much already done. My friends felt really bad about the mix-up, but it all turned out well; I haven’t had sushi for a month and a half, so it was a nice little treat. Too bad I had to wait on a stone bench for that long, though. :S
Hiking trip: Fail
Dinner with friends: Fail
Waiting in the cold: Fail
Getting wicked-cheap-sushi and a cup of everything-will-turn-up-soon-tea: Yatta!!
Okay, you may remember me talking about All-You-Can-Eat/Drink places here in Japan, right? You know, those restaurants where you pay, like, $10-$35 and get a buffet and a time limit? Bonus info: the longer the time limit, the more you pay. Well, they are really popular for parties and group outings. Well, my friend took some of us out for a newly opened All-You-Can-Eat-Dessert-Buffet! I know, it’s great!!!
The place was called Sweets Paradise and was all done up in a old-fashioned train car feel with an extensive display of cakes, pastries, a chocolate fountain, a fair-ground style popcorn machine, and fruits. For drinks, you could have hot chocolate, soda, teas, coffees, or shaved ice. There was also a pot of curry, rice, a bowl of salad, and several pastas to balance out the meal. It was all so lovely, but not as sweet as you might imagine. Japanese desserts look deceptively sugary. But they mostly taste like fluff or aren’t very sweet. Natural sugars, like those found in fruits and honey, are more appreciated. The Japanese, it seems, have an aversion to anything that’s flavor is too strong, so spicy foods aren’t that spicy and sweet foods aren’t that sweet. Give them a Reese’s for example, and most of them will say, “Too sweet!” or “Too buttery!” Many of the Japanese students at Witt would complain that the cafeteria slacker desserts were amasugiru (too sweet).
Because of this neutral flavor, I didn’t eat more than three platefuls of sweets, but went straight to the curry, which overflowed from my plate and burned my hand! I did what anyone would have done, ate that curry to the last drop and showed it who was boss!!
Would I go back to sweet’s paradise? Definitely, it is surprisingly close (Kichijoji) and I’d be able to get a full meal besides the desserts bar. Maybe sometime in January as a pick-me-up when school starts getting hard, the weather is depressing, and I just feel like eating my weight in strawberry jelly rolls!
Oh, boy. Here we go.
I’ve been talking with my new Japanese friends and one of the things they keep telling me to do is watch more TV. As a kid, I was never told that. In order to be more fit in high school, I was also not told that. But in college in Japan, people suddenly want me to watch as much TV as I can in my spare time. I can see why: it would expose me to overhear real Japanese conversation without being creepy, it is available all the time, even when everyone else has gone to bed or is busy, there are pictures and video recordings to help me understand what is going on, and many Japanese shows now throw colorful and large subtitles at the bottoms of the screen for added emphasis on something funny or interesting. But I hardly watched TV in America and, besides, Japanese TV has some very strange topics that I don’t know the vocab for and it all goes so fast! But I have been giving it a try recently and here is some of that I’ve found.
Of course you have the news, but Japanese news is more colorful, trendy, and young than American news. The only problem? Japanese news reports are given in keigo, an honorific language in Japanese that gives us such humorous translations as “I meekly suggest that you honorably shut up before I humbly punch you in your great and wonderful face.” Don’t get me wrong, I love a good bout of keigo as much as the next foreign student, and it is much easier to hear than to use, but it is rather tiring, so I can only do it for a little while before I need to change the channel. Next are dramas! Every country has them, but Japanese dramas can be as typical as Days of Our Lives, as far-out and unbelievable as Star Treck, or as historically inaccurate as Memoirs of a Geisha (which is an entirely different rant). I like to watch dramas on my computer (with subtitles to help catch words I don’t know yet), but watching a drama on TV? I’m just not ready for that. Then, I thought that I’d be safe with a children’s program. They are cute and easy to understand, and one that I was watching tried to teach kids the difference between the trashcan and the toy box. It is a very important difference! However, my television is in the common room, and I’d get a lot of looks if that were all I watched.
I was finally saved when I realized that versatility of variety shows. Let me just say, they are varied! You can find anything on variety shows: art/history education, world travel, famous actors/singers/comedians, pranks, quizzes, stories, music, live performances, games, and fun acts. Also, no matter which variety show you pick, at least one other person on the floor will like it, too, and want to watch it with you. I usually stick with variety show with famous people I recognize or like (Johnny’s Entertainment members like Nikishido Ryo and Tegoshi Yuya, for instance). If none of those are on, I’ll pick one whose rules I can understand within the first 3 minutes. Usually, they all end in a batsu (punishment) for the loser or a prize for the person who gets the most points. All in all, very fun, but be careful because they get more strange and less understandable as you near the early morning hours. Then, somewhere in the TV broadcasting waves, something trips and everything turns back to news. Peculiar…
I feel so helpful! I was lounging in the lounge when my House Mom came up to me with a question about English! We rehearsed a script about the next day’s fire drill that she had to give over the loud speakers. She was so worried that she’d pronounce something wrong, so for half an hour we tried to get her comfortable with proper accents and timing for all the new words (like “evacuate” v. “evacuation”). I thought it was a one-time thing, but apparently now I’m her go-to-girl for all these things. We even have a time set up for her to practice the English readings of other dorm-wide announcements. It is great to see her taking her responsibilities so seriously. She has very good English, but she wants to make sure that she’s clearly understood so that all the students know what to do and everyone will be happy and protected. Awww, thanks, Mrs. Kaji.
Guys!!! Okay, this is kind of rather late, but I’m still super excited about it: the local Japanese high school has (get this) an ENGLISH CLUB!! Now, I don’t really know what that means, but I DO know that after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, anyone who is interested in learning more about English and English-speaking countries meets up to talk about all things English. No, really, that’s what they do.
I found out about this club through an organization called Chi-Q-Jin (a play off of the Japanese words for Earthling/person: chikyuujin). This organization partners foreign exchange students with local elementary and middle schools to play games, talk about what other countries are like, and get young kids excited about the world. They also support this English Club, but were having a hard time recruiting ICU students and most of the other Chi-Q-Jin members are Chinese, Korean, or Hispanic.
I was more than willing to help out the high schoolers, especially because most of their class time is dedicated to route translation or situation role play, not very flexible for developing real conversation skills. So I decided to drop in on the next club meeting. But we kept it a secret from the students so that it wouldn’t negatively affect attendance. Before meeting with the students, the teachers explained that they had only started learning English last April, so they would be a little shy and hesitant. Also, I was asked to pretend to know NO Japanese whatsoever. The teachers would also only speak to me in English to keep up the charade.
Well, right now (or two weeks ago) all the upperclassmen were busy studying for their college entrance exams, so only the first-years were left in the club. Make that 4 first-year boys, one who was pretty good with English so he dominated much of the Q&A time, one who was fidgety and giggly and silly, one who was exhausted from watching too much television the night before, and one who was from the Western part of Japan and who obviously was not being invited to be “in the in group” by the other three, but was trying his best to say what he was thinking in English. They talked more to each other and the teachers than they did to me, but that was because they were trying to figure out what to say or how to say something. It was rather funny, because each question directed my way involved about 5 minutes of preparation and practicing before one of the boys felt confident enough to try it out and see if I could understand them. Since I knew what they were talking about in Japanese, it helped me know what they were trying to say, but I only answered based on what they actually said in Enlgish. It will be better for them that way.
The topics were pretty basic. Since it was our first time meeting, they asked for my name, where I was from, where I go to school, if I like sports, etc. My name (Alexandra) was a bit too difficult for them and sent one of the little guys into a stammering fit just trying to pronounce it; in Japanese, to say “Alexandra” you need to add a whole bunch of vowels, making it extra long – Arekusandora. I made them guess my age and that took about 15 minutes! As hard it is for Westerners to guess an Asian person’s age, they have the same difficulty for us. The only thing is, they always guess too old, instead of too young. I did tell them that I was in college and that I was older than them but younger than their teacher. But they were so flustered (not wanting to be wrong, embarrass themselves, embarrass the teacher, insult me) the just said, “ehh…ehhh…EHHHH? 27 years?” Hahahahahaha, no.
That’s when I decided to take over and just let them listen, which they enjoyed. I told them about the magical and mysterious world of America, where special trucks drive around town selling ice cream in the summer, sushi is expensive, kids can make tunnels and houses in the snow, squirrels run on top of telephone wires, deer are bigger than people, and you can see rabbits every day. I shared with them these wonders and each time they stared back in disbelief. They would even ask their teacher if what I said was true. “Why do trucks take ice cream around if people can just buy ice cream at the convenience store?” “Because most people don’t buy daily groceries from the convenience store in America and these trucks can attract all the kids in the neighborhoods who don’t go shopping with their parents.” “Isn’t it dangerous to have all those wild animals around?” “Americans are very used to seeing birds, raccoons, and other animals around.” And on and on it went.
At the very end I gave the boys and the teachers some Dove’s Chocolate melts-things because on the inside of the wrapper are English phrases that they could read. The main teacher thought this was a fantastic idea, but the boys just liked the candy and tried to trick the teacher into giving them more. I’m going to try to go back there most Thursdays, but we’ll see how well I do in the coming weeks.
No lie, these things are everywhere. I used to think, “Oh, the praying mantis. That is such a tough motif to use. They must be a super nature-y summer bug that the Japanese and Chinese like to use.” Wrong. There is a practical praying mantis plague at my campus, ‘yall! We’ve been seeing them since the school year started, and now that it is getting cold, they are still lurking. The kids here love the praying mantis and play with them all the time. One girl was trying to get hers to fly and instead incised it into a slashing frenzy before it finally flew/glided away to safety. The other day, I was walking around, and happened to looking down at my mp3 player, when I saw a brown one poised to strike my blue shoes!* Um, excuse me smallish-but-menicing-bug-who-inspired-Kung-Fu-artists-for-centuries, but in case you haven’t noticed, you’re TINY!! Don’t get all “fighting stance” with me or my shoes; I almost squished you! There is a time for defending one’s honor and a time for running, young mantis. What is more, on my way back down the same road, I had forgotten that Little Fearless was still there and I almost stepped on her again! If it wasn’t for my quick thinking, panther-like reflexes, and for the fact that when it moved I was so scared that I jumped back, my mantis would have been sentenced to the 2-demensional world of Flatedness. This is an advisory message to all rough-and-tough praying mantises at ICU: protect yourselves and your families from the big people! They will not always be looking down and there will come a day when you find yourselves in a losing battle against a sneaker.
You have been warned.
Ah-ha!! I found it! You thought you could hide behind your deceptively friendly, tattooed hippopotamus, simple maps, and street names that don’t exist, but I found you none the less!
Actually, a Japanese girl gave me directions (which I forgot), so I was going to look back at that map (but I didn’t feel like walking to the bus stop), so I started wandering around the outside perimeter of the school. Luckily for me, the Japanese really like organizing things, so a whole bunch of institutions were all lined up neatly behind my school. There was another college, a theology seminary, a chemical research lab, and the Middle Eastern Culture Center!! This place right outside of ICU’s western gate, so no extensive searching was called for, nor did I need the bus. However, and this is the BIG however, the Center is closed for maintenance and renovation for the foreseeable future. I think that it is through the end of the month. :S I was hoping that sometime during the break, I’d be able to go and see the exhibits, but now I have to wait until everything is opened again. I couldn’t even find out how much the entrance fee was or learn about what it is they actually show. It was a total zannen.
Guess what, guys? I had an earthquake! Or a tush-massage, I’m not quite sure which.
Here’s the story: A boy in my Japanese class announced one day that he and his friend would be giving a free piano concert in the cafeteria the next night. Being a fellow performer and wishing to support the arts (especially when the event is free), I made a memo in my planner and told myself that the recital would be a good break from essay writing. The concert itself was very nice: simple, respectful, and surprisingly high quality. The boy whom I had come to see played many, many Final Fantasy pieces from memory (and, while kind of shaky on some parts, did very well overall), and his friend ( a Japanese student, I’m guessing a junior?) played a piece by Shubert and 2 songs by List. The Japanese boy was fantastic! So expressive and his playing was just so….clean and….clear and…unnaturally accurate, but still very sincere. I don’t know how he did it! We were all mesmerized by this kid’s playing when, during a nocturne, I felt my chair start to vibrate. Was my phone ringing? No, it was on the table. Was my leg bouncing from me sitting too long? No, that wasn’t it. But I swear my bottom was swaying underneath me. I was puzzled and confused, but at least I wasn’t the only one; the other students at my table had the exact same expressions as me. But it was only the foreign students that seemed to be feeling this. All the Japanese kids were sitting as cool as stones. This shaking had gone on for some time when one of the second years guessed, “Is this an earthquake?’ Yes, that had to be it! How else were we all feeling this exact same sensation? That also made sense because the Japanese kids would have been all but numb to this regular sensation. Even the pianist continued to play as if nothing were happening. Another 5 minutes more and everything was still again. Super weird…
The next day some of us were talking and the news confirmed what we had felt. There had been an earthquake in our area during the time of the recital. It was too small for most people to notice, but we knew what it was. It was rather pleasant, nothing broke, and everyone was safe; it is a pity not all earthquakes are like that. For a girl who has lived on a stable tectonic plate all her life, it was quite a sensation. Probably boring for you all to read about, but it sure shook up my night!
Oh, no! I was walking along one day, when I realized that something was missing. Had I lost my wallet? Did I forget to do my homework? Nope. Someone was missing: Grandma Nashi!!
Next to one of the little farms/gardens near my school, a little, old woman would sit selling Asian pears (nashi, hence her nickname) which I would buy about once a week. But lately, I was so busy with the festival that I hadn’t gone to see her. But on that day, I realized that I haven’t seen her out by the fruit stand in a while. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen the fruit stand, either. So, not only have I not had an Asian pear in weeks, but I haven’t gotten to see my little obaasan. :S
What sad times are these when foreign college students cannot purchase Asian pears from Japanese grandmothers in autumn. Maybe she is not growing pears anymore or has moved her location, but I was hoping that come fall, she would have more fruit. *sigh* I guess not.
It came as a shock to some of the exchange students here, but Japan has different holidays than the US. Japan has some strange holidays like Respect the Elderly Day, Culture Day, Sports Day, and Autumnal Equinox Day. But it doesn’t have things like Daylight Savings Day, Halloween, or Thanksgiving. Those are pretty Western/American concepts (because of the European historical and cultural heritage of the United States that never happened in Japan). “But, Alexandra, didn’t you just say in a previous blog that you dressed up for a Halloween party?” Yes, I did. Let me explain.
While Halloween, for example, is not a nationally recognized holiday here in Japan, many people think that it is a really fun idea, and groups of people celebrate it on their own. Halloween parties, neighborhood organized Trick-or-Treating, and Halloween decorations/goods can be found, but these are just based on whether or not anyone does it on their own. Dressing up in costumes, stories about ghost/daemons, colorful decorations, free sweets, and a reason to let loose all appeal to the Japanese (especially young people). Plus, except for local festivals, this time of fall has a void of national holidays, which people are eager to fill.
But something that hasn’t quite caught on here is Thanksgiving. Buttery mashed potatoes, thick gravey, a huge turkey, and corn on the cob hasn’t nabbed the Japanese appetite, nor has the idea that you spend one day being thankful for all that you have. Why not? Well, as far as the Japanese are concerned, they’ve always lived in Japan and didn’t have to make their way in any New World, but have inherited everything from the generations before them or the gods. If you want to express thanks, you simply honor your ancestors or visit a shrine. Simple as that. There are also other times for people to show they are grateful. They have their own, so why adopt a foreign concept? That is why instead of little pilgrim and Indian decorations, the Christmas lights and wreaths have already gone up, and a nation where less than 1% of the population is Christian is waiting the festivities of their adopted holiday.
The final day of the festival had the Wadaiko kids a little on hedge. At 7 am, the President had declared it sunny enough for us to perform outside, but it was still a touch on the gray side by the time we started setting up. The other groups seemed to be in better spirits, though, so we moved all the instruments, equipment, and curtains, then went about the yard calling to potential guests and making a huge ruckus. It was great! But by the time we got back to home base, it had started to drizzle!! Everyone rushed to the drums, which would be ruined by the rain. We threw blankets, coats, and jackets on all the taiko and wooden stands. “Oh, great,” everyone was saying, “what if this doesn’t stop in time for the performance?” But the weather did clear and, trust me on this one, no one was more excited than the President, who started jumping up and down on the hill.
The concert was a great success and we had people stretched far and wide, past the back of the stage just to listen to us. We had the largest audience out of any group at the festival! And it was no surprise why the upperclassmen had been so particular about our practices. When I was talking to other students later that day, they were telling me how huge the Wadaiko reputation was, so I could see why we couldn’t allow any major mistakes. I was focusing too much on my responsibility during the concert, that I didn’t notice who was in the audience. Apparently, everyone I knew was there at one point or another (even my house parents, Kaji-san!). During the next few days, I got so many compliments and more respect now that everyone knew that I was a taiko member.
After we cleaned up and stored all of the equipment, I had to dash over and prepare for Soul Run’s final performance which would be that night on the main stage. We met up, changed clothes, practices the dances and kata a few times, and even dressed our male president in a traditional fisherman’s wrap to add to the coolness of his costume. Haha, I have to admit though, it looked a lot like a body cast, and he said it was very hard to breathe in at first.
The festival organizers moved us out onto the side stage pretty early, and it was confusing to know when to go one because we were in the very middle of the finale. Before I went on, some of the Yearbookers even came up to me and told me they'd be around during the show to sell hot chocolate. It was a good idea because the night was starting to get chilly. Once we finally took the stage (I mean, grass) it looked really cool, because we were under the spotlights and right up in front of the audience! Many of the other Soul Run kids were gathered and cheered us on from dead center, so when I looked up, I saw a mess of red, purple, and shining light (from cameras and spot lights). My knee was kind of hurting by this point, because I had dislocated it again (great job, Alexandra) the weekend before, but my mother had sent and Ace-bandage which saved the day! It was such a rush to be with them and dance Souran Bushi together. I got to be in the very middle, right behind the two club presidents when we performed. Between having the other 11 up there dancing with all they had and our fellow members sitting right in front of us, shouting along with the song, I was in some sort of dream world. Everything was buzzing with life, even when we moved onto the different parts of the show. Dancing Para Para even felt intense! It is so sad that I'll never get to have this feeling again, but maybe I can somehow share it once I get back home. My school has an East Asian Festival once a year, and maybe I can make a Soul Run group to perform then, too.
Later, Derek and I made our way back to Dialogue House where the Wadaiko freshman were making presents for the upperclassmen. We helped them out for a while, then ducked upstairs to change into our Halloween outfits for Wadaiko's nomihodai that night (see previous post).
In the Wadaiko club, there is a small group of us gaijin (mostly OYRs – One Year Regular students) who have bonded rather well this term. We had to learn everything and experienced “firsts” together: buying our own drumsticks (the Harry Potter adventure), wearing pacchi pants, performing, and eating different treats. We even had a captain named Koji, so we felt like quite the little team of amigos.
To celebrate our great spirit of wa, we decided to have a group costume for Halloween, since we’d be going out with the Wadaiko kids that night anyway and they would really appreciate it. Our shopping venture brought us to Don Quixote, the Japanese version of Marcs; a cheap store where you can find anything and everything, you just need to look in the right place. There were not a lot of choices for costumes, unless we all wanted to be pumpkins or Japanese Pop stars. Which, are both totally fine, but let’s be serious. Luckily, we were able to find something cheap and befitting of our team: Color Ranger masks!! How is this not perfect?!
The Rangers are a totally Japanese idea, represent the power of teamwork, while recognizing personal contribution and differences, and would allow us the chance to do obnoxious poses in the middle of the train station! And that, as we all know, is the true meaning of Halloween. The Color Ranger masks came in 5 colors and were one-size fits all. Sure, one of us would have to double up on color, but that was fine. We ended up deciding to buy track suits in the same color as the masks, and as for special weapons (which couldn’t really be weapons because of Japanese law, fear of deportation, and the scare factor on public transportation) we all grabbed household items to accessorize our outfits.
Getting into our outfits was a bit of a hassle, we needed to maneuver around the freshmen, who were working on presents for the upperclassmen in the main floor of the building we were changing in, then we needed to get to Kichijoji and make sure out costumes were hidden until we made our grand debut as a group. While I rode my bike to the train station, the others took the bus and ended up almost an hour late! But when we all came out in mask and all, we got roars of applause from the other members and there was much picture taking.
Now, allow me to introduce the Rangers.
Derek from California: Yellow Ranger with the golden shoe scoop
Alice from France: Red Ranger with fearsome batsu fan
Jorren from the Netherlands: Pink Ranger with fluffy feather-duster of justice
Liane from California: (also) Pink Ranger with fluffy feather-duster of truth
Sara from North Carolina: Green Ranger with emerald shoe scoop
Alexandra from Ohio: Blue Ranger with dual laundry pins of furry
“OYRangers, ikou~~!” (OYRangers, let’s go~~!)
Just a “by the way” sort of thing:
After Wadaiko, but before the Soul Run nomihoudai, Kai, I, and another former OYR went out to eat in Kichijoji. They had both gone to ICU and had spent a lot of time in Kichi, and there was one place in particular that they wanted to go to: Samrat. It was an Indian restaurant tucked in underground with a hard to find entrance that we only caught on the second time. As we started down the stairs I could already smell the kitchen that reminded me so much of Rashmi and Sophie’s houses I got a rush of high school memories! But as soon as we stepped inside I was pulled back to reality as a tall, bearded Indian man greeted us with a loud Japanese “Irasshaimase!” I’m in Japan, not Ohio. I’m in Japan, not Ohio. Got it.
The great thing about this place, I found out, was that there was an unlimited bread rule, which we three probably abused. While my friends got some of the more mild flavors, I asked for some daal terka and spicy veggie curry. It was so good, but the portions were tiny and I was done with mine in almost an instant. I ended up eating the rest of someone else’s, too. But it isn’t my fault!! Japan’s serving sizes (even in Ethnic restaurants, it seems) are super small not super sized. I wanted to stay and talk with everyone a little more, but Soul Run was meeting at the station soon and I didn’t want to be left behind.
I would give this place a 7 out of 10, a good place to stop back again, but just a touch expensive.
Good morning!! Rise and shine, because it is time for Taiko!
My entire day was spent with the Taiko group, preparing for the concert, setting up the gym, grabbing some lunch, walking around (in the rain) calling out to the festival goers (in Japanese and English) to come and see us perform, and tear down. Luckily, we were over at around 3 pm, so I still had some time to catch another glimpse of the festival that day. It was drizzling the whole time, which had my spirits down at first, but everyone was trying to be as energetic as possible and that really affected my mood too. As you walked down the sidewalks, everyone was yelling out to passers-by, waving signs, dressed up, and fighting for your attention. How can you ignore that kind of life and energy? What’s more, Kai was there!! He came up from Kyoto for the weekend to see his ICU friends and to cheer on Wadaiko! We were able to perform in our usual gym, which made our sound reverb off the walls and give us this awesome presence while keeping the drums dray. There was a modest crowd, but I was kind of nervous anyways. I only did two half songs, but I had to carry and rearrange drums, so I was a part of the concert the whole time. It was really fun, but I messed up in two parts. It didn’t show, but I know that I made those mistakes and that is what matters. Miki’s mom was there, too! She had come all the way from Kamakura just to see Miki perform, but she stayed a little while after the show to talk to me, too. I was so revved up from the show that my Japanese was getting confused, but she said that she was very proud of both of us and was such a mom about it all. Kids from my dorm and classes were also there, too. They were all super surprised that I did Taiko and said that it was a shock to see me so energetic and active in the last song. I know I’m a bit on the quiet side sometimes, but I guess people don’t expect me to do something big or loud. I don’t usually do that sort of thing, but for that song, I just couldn’t help it!
Outside in the rain, you could to see all the different club booths and group that I got a little carried away. I bought a chocolate and sprinkle covered banana, freshly made yakisoba and fried mochi on a stick, a kabob that was pronounces kay-ba-bu, delicious lamb, grilled beef (from the Lacrosse boys, good friends of mine), hot chocolate, and a muffin (from the Yearbook kids). It was all so scrumptious, but I had to pull back before I spent too much on just food.
During the same time as Wadaiko that day, Soul Run’s main group performed on the stage. Since it was raining, they had to go inside the auditorium, but there was a slight problem with this; the indoor stage was too small to fit everyone, so only the freshman and exchange students were able to perform. Anyone older (including the seniors!!) weren’t able to dance. Later, I watch a video that one of the presidents had recorded of the group, and it looked good, but I know that it was slightly disappointed for the upper classman not to dance. To celebrate their hard work, Soul Run organized a nomihoudai (literally, “All You Can Drink Party”) in Kichijoji that night. Myself and another Wadaiko/Soul Run kids, Derek, tagged along too even though we wouldn’t be performing until the next night. Besides a lot of drinks (I had cola, thank you) the food was great and seemed to just keep coming! Some of the members were a little too enthusiastic about the beverages, but no one got too rowdy; unless you count a group-late-night-cream-puff fight rowdy. Haha, I guess that part is just a yearly Soul Run tradition. All of the members gave the upperclassmen and the co-presidents presents, we told stories about practicing together, took a lot of pictures, and had a grand old time. It was good to celebrate with everyone, but I’ll miss our lunchtime dance sessions.
I don’t know how late everyone stayed out, but I went back to my dorm in time for curfew and to try to get some rest. There was still one more day of the festival and I knew it was going to be a long day.
WAH! I’m so behind on my blogs, this is embarrassing. If I can catch up with them this weekend, though, I’ll be solid.
Let’s take a trip back a few weeks to the ICU festival. If you’ve ever read manga or seen anime, you know that most high schools and colleges in Japan have these cultural festivals once a year for clubs to show their stuff, make some money, and for the school to attract attention and prove that their students are well-rounded and do more than just study and go to cram school. Sure, right, whatever you have to tell yourself. But these festivals (try to think more like school fair) are really fun and people pour hours upon hours of effort into them. By the time students reach college they are experts at preparing for festivals, which really helped me because I’ve only had the Wittenberg festivals to pull experience from.
I’m in a few clubs here, which means that I had to be a pro at time management and I also had to make some decisions on priority; who was I going to perform with? Which group was I going to help on the day of the festival? Which group would be more forgiving if I didn’t chose them? That sort of thing. My final decision: dedicate myself mostly to Wadaiko, playing with them on both days and attending all of the preliminary events as a Wadaiko member, helping the Yearbook Club leading up to (but not during) the festival, dancing with Soul Run at the closing ceremony only, and supporting my friends whenever I had some free time. It was surprising to see how much importance all the groups were putting on this. Since the first day I joined, the Wadaiko kids were talking about preparations for the festival (which was two-ish months away at that point), and Soul Run was formed ONLY to perform at the festival. Everyone was throwing a lot of pressure on how well we’d be and exactly how every movement would look. There isn’t enough time in my blog to talk about all the preparations, but just know that we practiced a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. I thought it a bit obsessive, but I can’t argue that the results were fantastic.
On the Friday right before the festival, I had morning class, but all afternoon classes were canceled to let kids do final practices and set up for the next morning. I had already promised my time to Taiko, so I ran home, changed into my purple pacchi (a style of traditional Japanese pants) and dashed to a 4 hour practice session. We had to rehearse, of course, but since we would be playing outside on Sunday, people needed to practice bringing and setting up our equipment and instruments for the day of the show. Every movement and responsibility was charted out and directed. Once again, it all seemed super controlled and over the top, but it left no room for error and responsibility was made obvious, so if you didn’t do your part, everyone would know. The OYRs and the freshman were slightly paranoid at this idea, and that is probably why we did so well.
After Wadaiko, I ran over to the Soul Run practice for the finale, and boy, was I in for a shock. There were a few girls there already when I arrived, but I was waiting for the rest of the crew to show up. Soul Run had 53 members this year, and I knew that at the finale only a few of us would be performing. I thought that a few meant 30. It really meant 12. I was one of the 12. WHEN WAS THIS DECIDED?! I mean, it was such an honor to be chosen out of that many people and perform with the top dancers, but I’m not that good! I was so, so embarrassed when the presidents of the club explained that we were the only ones dancing; it finally hit me why everyone else had made a big deal about me being picked. Besides doing the Souran Bushi dance, we also had to do a Shorinji Kempo kata and a Para Para dance. Shorinji Kempo is an energetic and a very disciplined Japanese martial art, that is much more popular at my school than at others, I think, because the leader of the club is a national champion, or some such thing. By the way, one of the Japanese princesses goes to ICU. I just found that out, but that’s beside the point. Para Para started as a joke of a dance, in a way, but is now no laughing matter (even though I laughed at it at every practice). There is an idea that the Japanese can’t dance, but are really good and hand dancing while swaying. So there is a very easy form of hand dancing that caught on in clubs and is used all the time by Japanese pop artists. Think of the Macarena to Japanese music. That is Para Para. I really liked the dance because no matter how outrageously silly, expressive, or dorky you were, you would only be acting more true to the dance style.
Later that night, I went to check up on the Yearbook Club who had turned one of the classrooms into a café for the next day. It was very cute, decorated with Halloween themed origami, and we all ate cheesecake together! But I had to dash and do one more practice with Soul Run on the stage before the mega-huge pizza party!! May I just say that while tasty, Japanese pizza is disappointingly small and uber expensive? They try, but still. Luckily, though, we all paid for the pizza that night, and when I joined up with the Yearbook guys later and they asked me where I could find a lot of change, I was able to hook them up with Soul Run. Yahoo! Chalk one up for the international student!
With all of this running around, I was really hyped up, but had to go to sleep since I’d be up bright and early the next day. I had such a fun day, but there was only one problem: the weather channel that night was calling for rain on the weekend….
