Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
I Love Samosas
Siena, Kim, and I went out for Indian food tonight! At an interview with NHK for a possible narration job, I met the owner of an Indian restaurant. He gave me his card and told me to come visit. So, I did!
Epic samosas.
It was a really cute restaurant, and I insist that we go back soon.
Chai tea, a banana lassi, and an apple cocktail of sorts. Cheers!
Naan bigger than your head. We also got some free vegetable rolls.
Epic samosas.
It was a really cute restaurant, and I insist that we go back soon.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Happy Birthday
Yesterday I turned 21! A bunch of friends and I headed over to Torikizoku (everything is 280yen) to eat, drink, and be merry!
In all of Paul's purikura, he looks like a small child. I mention this because he's the guy on the left and that's his phone on the table.
A shamrock-encrusted pig sticker for the Irish lady~
Strawberries filled with frozen sweet cream? Om nom nom.
~*~HUZZAH~*~
It's weird - 21 didn't feel like such a big deal. I've been able to drink legally since I got here, so turning 21 ended up feeling a little anticlimactic. Heh.
Mamegoma swag!! (It's not really a hat...)
In all of Paul's purikura, he looks like a small child. I mention this because he's the guy on the left and that's his phone on the table.
A shamrock-encrusted pig sticker for the Irish lady~
Strawberries filled with frozen sweet cream? Om nom nom.
~*~HUZZAH~*~
It's weird - 21 didn't feel like such a big deal. I've been able to drink legally since I got here, so turning 21 ended up feeling a little anticlimactic. Heh.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
One Non-Depressing Thing About Hiroshima
I found Crispy M&Ms! I can't even find these things in New York!
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Hiroshima Trip
Today I tagged along with a class trip to the Hiroshima Peace Museum. I've been wanting to go since last semester.
I woke up really early to catch the Shinkansen with the rest of the class. After about a two hour trip, we arrived in Hiroshima.
The public transportation system is a little different than Osaka. In addition to subways and buses, there are trolleys everywhere! In fact, we took a trolley to get to the Peace Museum. I found this short trip to be a little chilling, to be honest. In my class Popular Culture and Media in Japan, we watched Barefoot Gen, an anime movie version of the bombing of Hiroshima. As we crossed over a few bridges, the view from the trolley looked just how they were represented in the anime pre-bombing.
We got out of the trolley at the Genbaku ("atom-bomb") Dome stop. The Genbaku Dome is the ruins of the former Hiroshima Prefecture Industrial Promotion Hall. The atom bomb detonated about 600 meters directly above the building. The structure has been preserved to this day to show the destruction of the bomb.
After passing by the Genbaku Dome, the class walked through the Peace Park to the museum. The Peace Museum is a modern-style building. On the pathway and grass in front of the museum, there are peace demonstrations and memorial services every year.
The museum is equal parts informative and depressing. The first section of the museum, in the building on the left, discusses the history of Hiroshima, the events leading up to the bomb, and the aftermath. There are photographs, overviews of the city, and video footage. Everything is dealt with in a very textbook-like manner.
The next part, on the second floor, is devoted to the science behind the atom bombs and the even more destructive H-bombs. This installation urges world peace, declaring the phrase "No More Hiroshimas."
All this was incredibly moving. But when the class entered the long hall (shown in the above photo), I learned why we were told to bring tissues.
This was where the museum got personal.
The entrance to the hall was lined with crumbling brick walls, the holes and bare windows allowing us to see through to murals displaying the black sky and flattened landscape right after the bomb was dropped. We turned the corner, where we saw a diorama of a mother and child, staggering through the rubble, burnt so severely that their skin was sloughing off.
Survivors of the bomb often describe it as Hell on Earth. I always took that in a literal sense, but now I can see how it can be applied figuratively. Japanese ghosts (yuurei) are often portrayed with their hands limply dangling from their wrists, their arms angled at their sides, and exaggerated fingers. They also usually have unkempt hair and battered and/or emaciated forms.
After this jarring diorama, the hall was filled with the shredded, burned, and bloodied uniforms of schoolchildren, donated by parents and grandparents. Graphic pictures of burn victims covered the walls, and there were even some preserved samples of the resulting keratoid scars. We saw stairs where a vaporized woman's shadow was burned into the stone. We were allowed to touch roof tiles and glass bottles that had been fused together because of the intense heat. We saw Sadako's 1,000 paper cranes.
Somehow, through all this, I managed not to cry. After the exhibit, the hall empties out into a room along the windowed wall of the museum, where people can recuperate. I wandered over to the museum guestbook, under a photograph of several hundred already-filled books, and thumbed through it. That's where I lost it.
In various different languages: no more Hiroshimas.
I woke up really early to catch the Shinkansen with the rest of the class. After about a two hour trip, we arrived in Hiroshima.
The public transportation system is a little different than Osaka. In addition to subways and buses, there are trolleys everywhere! In fact, we took a trolley to get to the Peace Museum. I found this short trip to be a little chilling, to be honest. In my class Popular Culture and Media in Japan, we watched Barefoot Gen, an anime movie version of the bombing of Hiroshima. As we crossed over a few bridges, the view from the trolley looked just how they were represented in the anime pre-bombing.
We got out of the trolley at the Genbaku ("atom-bomb") Dome stop. The Genbaku Dome is the ruins of the former Hiroshima Prefecture Industrial Promotion Hall. The atom bomb detonated about 600 meters directly above the building. The structure has been preserved to this day to show the destruction of the bomb.
After passing by the Genbaku Dome, the class walked through the Peace Park to the museum. The Peace Museum is a modern-style building. On the pathway and grass in front of the museum, there are peace demonstrations and memorial services every year.
The museum is equal parts informative and depressing. The first section of the museum, in the building on the left, discusses the history of Hiroshima, the events leading up to the bomb, and the aftermath. There are photographs, overviews of the city, and video footage. Everything is dealt with in a very textbook-like manner.The next part, on the second floor, is devoted to the science behind the atom bombs and the even more destructive H-bombs. This installation urges world peace, declaring the phrase "No More Hiroshimas."
All this was incredibly moving. But when the class entered the long hall (shown in the above photo), I learned why we were told to bring tissues.
This was where the museum got personal.
The entrance to the hall was lined with crumbling brick walls, the holes and bare windows allowing us to see through to murals displaying the black sky and flattened landscape right after the bomb was dropped. We turned the corner, where we saw a diorama of a mother and child, staggering through the rubble, burnt so severely that their skin was sloughing off.
Survivors of the bomb often describe it as Hell on Earth. I always took that in a literal sense, but now I can see how it can be applied figuratively. Japanese ghosts (yuurei) are often portrayed with their hands limply dangling from their wrists, their arms angled at their sides, and exaggerated fingers. They also usually have unkempt hair and battered and/or emaciated forms.See the similarities? I certainly do.
After this jarring diorama, the hall was filled with the shredded, burned, and bloodied uniforms of schoolchildren, donated by parents and grandparents. Graphic pictures of burn victims covered the walls, and there were even some preserved samples of the resulting keratoid scars. We saw stairs where a vaporized woman's shadow was burned into the stone. We were allowed to touch roof tiles and glass bottles that had been fused together because of the intense heat. We saw Sadako's 1,000 paper cranes.
Somehow, through all this, I managed not to cry. After the exhibit, the hall empties out into a room along the windowed wall of the museum, where people can recuperate. I wandered over to the museum guestbook, under a photograph of several hundred already-filled books, and thumbed through it. That's where I lost it.
In various different languages: no more Hiroshimas.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
But WHY?
I went over to Meirin Elementary between classes to help out at an English lesson. The kids were learning how to say different colors. After playing a game in which they had to touch a certain color (said in English) if they could find it in the classroom. I helped out with my technicolor hoodie. We then went over greetings in English.
"Hello!" こんにちは！
"How are you?" 元気ですか。
"I'm fine!" 元気です。
Chanted over and over again, then said back and forth to classmates.
After the class was over, several of the first year students came up to me and asked me if my eyes were blue. It was interesting how they phrased it, though - not so much confirming the color as wondering why they were blue. When I didn't know how to respond, the teacher stepped in and laughingly told the children it was because I was a gaijin 外人, a (recently watered-down) derogatory and ethnocentric term for "foreigner" (literally "outside person"). Hmm. I understand all the foreign students using it in a deprecating fashion to refer to ourselves. But...I dunno. A teacher reinforcing the term to children at a highly-impressionable age? Maybe I'm being oversensitive.
During recess, I bumped into a group of children I had spoken to last semester. We jumped around a little and said "ひさしぶり" ("long time, no see") and got to chatting like old times. I told them that I'd been back to New York, and they let me know what classes they were taking and how their favorite sports teams were doing.
One of the girls even remebered that we share a birthday.
A couple boys asked me my favorite foods. When I paused to think for a moment, he said, "ハンバーガーとかハンバーガーとか..." which esentially translated into "Like hamburgers...or hamburgers, for example." Did I get this response because I'm American? Ohhh yeah. Apparently we subsist on hamburgers alone. After I told them I loved Japanese food (as well as several other cuisines), they started miming cooking different foods.
The kids often mime activities or words when I don't understand them. Most Japnese people I've met will try to explain the word or sentence using basic grammar constructions and vocabulary, but the Meirin students always draw shapes in the air or mime actions.
In light of what I've learned in my course on The Body and Communication, it was really interesting.
Also, some Japanese kids genuinely believe the Statue of Liberty is holding an ice cream cone and a cookie.
Why France, we humbly accept your generous gift of a robed lady proudly holding confectionary delights. Thank you.
In retrospect, I guess this post comes off as being a bit negative. But it's interesting to see how non-Japanese are viewed by the next generation of Japanese citizens. And it was really fun to talk to the students.
I got to practice giving people withering looks, albeit sarcastically. I've endeared myself to a good group of kids, so hopefully I'm improving the 外人 image a little.
"Hello!" こんにちは！
"How are you?" 元気ですか。
"I'm fine!" 元気です。
Chanted over and over again, then said back and forth to classmates.
After the class was over, several of the first year students came up to me and asked me if my eyes were blue. It was interesting how they phrased it, though - not so much confirming the color as wondering why they were blue. When I didn't know how to respond, the teacher stepped in and laughingly told the children it was because I was a gaijin 外人, a (recently watered-down) derogatory and ethnocentric term for "foreigner" (literally "outside person"). Hmm. I understand all the foreign students using it in a deprecating fashion to refer to ourselves. But...I dunno. A teacher reinforcing the term to children at a highly-impressionable age? Maybe I'm being oversensitive.
During recess, I bumped into a group of children I had spoken to last semester. We jumped around a little and said "ひさしぶり" ("long time, no see") and got to chatting like old times. I told them that I'd been back to New York, and they let me know what classes they were taking and how their favorite sports teams were doing.
One of the girls even remebered that we share a birthday.
A couple boys asked me my favorite foods. When I paused to think for a moment, he said, "ハンバーガーとかハンバーガーとか..." which esentially translated into "Like hamburgers...or hamburgers, for example." Did I get this response because I'm American? Ohhh yeah. Apparently we subsist on hamburgers alone. After I told them I loved Japanese food (as well as several other cuisines), they started miming cooking different foods.
The kids often mime activities or words when I don't understand them. Most Japnese people I've met will try to explain the word or sentence using basic grammar constructions and vocabulary, but the Meirin students always draw shapes in the air or mime actions.
In light of what I've learned in my course on The Body and Communication, it was really interesting.
Also, some Japanese kids genuinely believe the Statue of Liberty is holding an ice cream cone and a cookie.
Why France, we humbly accept your generous gift of a robed lady proudly holding confectionary delights. Thank you.
In retrospect, I guess this post comes off as being a bit negative. But it's interesting to see how non-Japanese are viewed by the next generation of Japanese citizens. And it was really fun to talk to the students.
I got to practice giving people withering looks, albeit sarcastically. I've endeared myself to a good group of kids, so hopefully I'm improving the 外人 image a little.
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