Hair cut

Well kids, it finally had to happen: I went and got my ears lowered today. And, as always, it was a dramatic change. For those of you who have not had the opportunity, nay honor (cough cough), of meeting me on the outernet, I get my hair cut about three or four times a year; I swing from really short hair to really long emo hair (see my profile pic). It saves a lot of money, and I get to be two different kinds of sexy.

The challenge/fear this time was I had never had my hair cut in Japan. And my continued lack of knowledge of the Japanese language made this more of a potentially hazardous adventure.

I started out by going to barber not far from my apartment: I walked in and coughed to get the shop owner's attention, he spun around, shocked (probably at my lack of Asian-ness) and yelled that they were closed. At three o'clock in the afternoon. I decided that I need to learn how to say "What are you? A HAIR nazi?" in Japanese, and then went home and called my friend Francis to see if he wanted to go see if we could find another, less enthno-centric, barber. He'd found one at a shopping center a few days ago, so we headed out in the mid-90 degree afternoon heat and walked to the center about 25 minutes away.

Now, due to a lack of space in their country, the Japanese have found a way to streamline just about everything; there really isn't a whole lot of wasted room. The barbershop/salon/folicular specialist we went to was about twenty feet wide and fifty feet long, had four "stations" with computerized vacuums, a tray for styling accoutrements with a UV sterilizer, and TV monitors with constantly updated news. Not only that, our shop has this particular sales tactic: you walk in, pay ¥1000 ($10), and get a ticket for one, ten-minute haircut. Yes, a ten-minute haircut. You pay $1 per minute. This is possibly the coolest/craziest thing I've ever heard of. So somehow, despite the fact I don't speak much Japanese, despite the fact I haven't been shorn in three and a half months, despite the fact they have ten minutes to make me look years younger, somehow I get a really decent-looking haircut! I have a newfound respect for Japanese hairstylists!

Except racist ones, they can go get earthquaked.

Hopefully I'll have a new pic up in a couple of days...

Expo 2005

Okay, so this post has been a long time in coming - I should have posted it about two and a half weeks ago! Well, on the 24th of August I went to the World Exposition 2005 here in Aichi. Francis (right), a co-would-be-Fuji-climber and good friend, and I decided to take this time to catch the Expo before it ends at the end of September. This year's theme is "Nature's Wisdom" and the national pavilions (buildings/stands/shops) are supposed to take this theme and expand upon it in their displays.

Here's the thing about the Expo: while it's set over several acres of beautifully landscaped walkways and structures in the open air, it's summertime in Aichi - you need to walk everywhere. Temps were in the mid-30s C, or approximately 90-100F. I was carrying a backpack containing my camera, some notebooks, room for souvenirs, and plenty of space after my 2-liter bottle of water was confiscated (you can't blame a brother for trying); and about ten minutes into our excursion my shirt was plastered to my back by sweat. Also about ten minutes into our excursion, we decided that the Canadian pavilion was probably a good bet for air conditioning, so we aimed ourselves at the giant red maple leaf for first stop.

Here's something else about the Expo: many pavilions, both national and corporate, have huge queues - lines that stretch for thousands of miles, out of Japan, across the ocean on specially designed floating bridges, through China, and back again. The most heavily packed queues are usually "The World of Tomorrow"-esque corporate pavilions like Toyota, Hitachi, and Mitsubishi, and cultural giants like the U.S., England, and Australia. Pavilions serving beer are also very popular ("You want to wait how long to see Belgium?").

Canada's pavilion, however, did not have a time-devouring monstrous queue; making it a perfect candidate for "first pavilion of the day". And not only did they have a wonderful little presentation on the natural and cultural diversity in Canada AND air conditioning for the full twenty minutess, they also spoke English. Sweet!

After Canada, we decided to hit up the Asian end of the park, including China, Bhutan (left), Sri Lanka, The Stans and Mongolia, followed by the Middle East (most notably Iran, for Andy), and India, before heading off for lunch. The "temporary" building that we found restaurants in was three stories tall, contained a wine-tasting center and a fully-air conditioned bank with ATMs. Francis got some dangerously good looking curry, while I had a pretty decent kebab.

We did NOT taste any wine. I blame Francis.

Next stop: Europe. Remember those horrible, multinational. multilane queues I was telling you about? Well Europe has them. So after walking through the area, stopping to see the U.K. (for Francis, who got a little misty-eyed :P), Ukraine (for me), and Belgium (for beer), we decided that Europe really wasn't that big of a priority at that point, and decided to go check out the African pavilions nearby. On the way we stopped at the Scandinavian pavilion, which was pretty neat, but looked strangely like an Ikea ad with extra culture added. After that, we decided that we really needed to eat more, so I got some green tea-flavored soft serve and Francis picked up grilled lamb. Wow, nothing says "international gathering" like green tea ice cream and meat on a stick.

Anyway, we went to the African pavilions - three large buildings with many nations represented inside. Francis decided he STILL wasn't full, so he stopped to grab another bite, and I wandered through the buildings, checked out the Gabon pavilion (for Joy), and stopped to see "Lucy" - purportedly the oldest humanoid skeleton in existence. She looked very dead.

Another pavilion I wanted to see, but didn't/couldn't wait in line for was Egypt. Egypt somehow managed to get it's own building, which was decorated to look like a restored ancient temple, complete with hieroglyphics mythological dieties, and pretty colors. I did get some pictures though; this one's for Mel.

After that, we decided that we really did, indeed want to see some of the western European contries, if at all possible. Italy, Spain, France and Germany all met at one point, and were all surrounded by 30-60 minute lines. We decided to take a bet with France, which appeared to have the shortest/fastest-moving line; which it did for all we could tell. The French pavilion contained many really cool innovations which I would tell you about in great detail if I had any idea what they were. I remember walking across an open area and noticing a red light following my movements on the wall. Apparently I was being tracked by some state-of-the-art French light tracking system. Not that I'm paranoid. (YOU HEAR THAT INTERWEB? I'M NOT PARANOID!!!) There was also a prototypical insulation for homes that bore a strong resemblance to plastic tubes; but I'm no French innovator, so I can't tell you for certain. France did have a fabulous presentation of the deteriorating state of the environment - both natural and cultural - that was projected onto all four walls and ceiling of a special room.

Unfortunately, we didn't have enough time to see the other three pavilions. Instead, we pressed on to see Oceania and Southeast Asia. While there were a few really great pavilions, like Thailand (right), many were kind of disappointing...though that could have been because we'd been on our feet for seven hours in the hot sun.

So after these last few pavilions, we stumbled through another ten-minute line to get to the linimo - a linear motion transportation device - which bore a striking resemblance to every other subway in Nagoya, except that it was made of space-age polymers. A half-hour later we were home and stumbled inside and fell asleep, content with our non-Fuji-in-the-rain adventure.

The End.

September!

Well, I'm back again. Sorry about the lack of updates; I'm half too-busy, half too-boring-to-talk-about!

Anyway, I guess you could say I've been saving up things to post...well, here goes:

Yesterday was full of firsts:
I worked at a different branch for the first time since training ended; it was in Kurokawa, another eastern suburb of Nagoya, about 20 minutes by subway away. Nice place, nice staff, small school.
I taught my first group Kids class - and survived! Five kids x 6-9 years old x 40 minutes = miraculous survival. But the kids were really good, and the only troublemaker was kept in check by his older sister. I might just be able to handle this.
I found out that September 1st is Japanese National Disaster Prevention Day. I don't know what that means, or what to do, or when, but it's nice to know that we had one. I feel safer already.
Researching (or trying to) NDPD, I came across a website by a woman named Sara Ursin who was in Japan about two years ago. Here's her entry about earthquakes:

Monday, August 25, 2003
The Earthquake. Every 150 years there is a major earthquake in Shizuoka Prefecture. Right now we're in year 147 since the last major one. People in Shizuoka don't talk about what will happen 'if' there's an earthquake, they talk about 'when' then earthquake happens. 'When' the earthquake strikes in Shizuoka there will be a huge tsunami that will wipe out the entire coast and the Izu Penninsula. 'When' the earthquake strikes Mt. Fuji will probably errupt. 'When' the earthquake strikes the nuclear powerplant 25 miles down the road will probably blow up. 'When' the earthquake strikes my house will fall down. Etc. It freaks the foreigners out but the Japanese seem to be fine with their major earthquake destiny. We're having earthquake safety day on September 1st. This past weekend when we made 2 trips to the beach in one day we kept commenting on how we were testing the earthquake Gods.

My students keep telling me the same thing about Nagoya - it's not IF we'll get an earthquake, it's WHEN. But, as I've repeatedly told my mother, Japan is on the forefront of earthquake response and technology: they design their buildings with them in mind, they have drills, they even make their children wear brightly colored hats to school so they are readily visible in case on an earthquake. So c'mon, a nation that makes its children wear fire-retardant hoods must know something about geological seismic activity, right?

Oh yeah, and I found out this week that NOVA has an almost one hundred percent brand recognition in Japan. Translation: literally EVERYONE knows NOVA, we are everywhere. I think that also makes me the new Coke. Rock on.



In other news, I'm sick. Yeah, I've somehow managed to make it through three months in Japan without any major illness/injury, and now I'm feeling like Death's nuked leftovers. I spent all day trying not to cough too hard at my students, who all expressed sympathy and concern for me - probably for their own health as well. There have been a few instructors who've been sick recently, so maybe it's just the flu du jour. The late-night going-away party for a co-worker held in a smoky basement bar combined with walking in the rain the next day probably didn't help either. Either way, I'm probably calling in sick tomorrow; no need to share this with the kids.

So it's probably good I didn't try to tackle Fuji-san (Mt. Fuji): my friends spent Tuesday night and Wednesday in pouring rain and cold wind climbing the cultural landmark. According to my friend Francis, it was one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences - he'll never do it again. There's a famous Japanese proverb that says, "A wise man climbs Fuji once in his life. A fool climbs it twice." Francis has stories of his group sneaking into shelters on the mountain, and trying to wring out their clothes before they could be discovered and charged to use the shelter; trying to sleep in the only cave on the mountain; sharing said cave with Swedish tourists; and paying 1500yen ($15) for a walking stick which, according to him, was actually the thing that got him to the top. I'm still up for it eventually, but maybe when the weather is a little better!

I had to say goodbye to a friend and coworker earlier this week; Kasey, one of the first people that I got to know at work, transferred to Tokyo on Tuesday. It's strange to have been here for almost three months and already be watching friends go. While Nova is a good program, it's constantly turning over staff, and chances are the friends you make now are going to be gone in six months. It makes it kind of tough to make close friends; but it does give you time to form what Anne Lamott calls "those strange families we make from those who are around." Kasey was the crazy sister in the family, and now she's in Tokyo. Sad.

Okay kids, that's it for now; check back soon for stories and pictures from the World Expo and other random musings from an insomniac expatriate. Good times.