18 February 2008

Honestly -- how much wood WOULD a woodchuck chuck (if it could, one may assume for argument purposes, chuck wood)?

NOTE: This is not a rhetorical question -- now discuss amongst yourselves... 

2 April 2008

This is one of the coolest words I've learned in Japanese: 
            setsunai            /seh-tsu-NIGH/

English struggles to express this emotion, and I feel we're never quite able to fit all the power of setsunai into just one word. I suppose "melancholy" comes close, but it's normally translated as something like "heartrending, unbearable sorrow"... 

For guys like me (and Billy Corgan), that's a useful word. 

I bring it up NOW because the season of sakura (cherry blossoms) has already come and gone, almost before I knew it was happening. 

And I really hate that. 

For about 10 days, everywhere you looked, you could drink in this amazing view -- and I'm not talking "Oooh! Look at the flowers!!" pansy talk -- I'm saying, honestly, it's pretty darn amazing. 

Anyway, it's already over, and the awesome energy that filled the air just a few days ago has quickly fizzled into nothing -- and now the flowers are just dropping off the trees and into the gutter. 

People in Japan celebrate all this -- don't you know that?!? Yeah, they take their "cherry blossoms falling off the trees" time dead serious, yo. It's a season for all-out fun and enjoyment, frankly -- with late-night picnics and karaoke under the stars, the trees illuminated from below in warm, glowing light, and the sake (aka, "fire water") flowing freely.  

It's party time -- but I always feel they party a bit too hard. I mean, the idea is that they are celebrating the beauty, and having fun, and all -- but "me thinks they celebrateth a bit too much..." 

I just mean, behind the party atmosphere is a kind of sadness -- nothing tangible, nothing you feel consciously -- but just a kind of distant, hollow sensation. 

You live in Japan long enough, and you'll absolutely feel it. Trust me.

Like, you know how you feel when you finally have to take down the Christmas tree after the holidays? How there's something sad about packing the ornaments and lights back in their boxes, and putting everything back to "normal"? There's just something about that that breaks my heart -- not REALLY really, but sort of really.

Well, seeing all those flowers being trampled underfoot fills me with that same kind of genuine weepiness -- seeing the beauty I marveled at yesterday now getting stomped into the dirt. 

. . .

Last Saturday I had to say goodbye to Pastor Hiro Igaki -- it was my last chance to see him before he was off to greener pastures. He has left his position as pastor at Denen CP Church and moved with his family to Karuizawa, north of Tokyo, where he will spend the next two years on a kind of "sabbatical."

I know this move is good for Hiro, and maybe even better for his family -- so from that point of view, I'm glad they are moving. And I have tried, in my own impotent way, to support him through all the tense months leading up to this. I feel God is guiding them, and I feel confident their adventure will be more rich for having made this move. I'm all for it. 

But the SELFISH part of me hates so much to see them go...  

There was a moment on Saturday night, just before I left, when I cornered Hiro in his tiny office. There was a WORLD of emotion in my heart, and so much I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him how much it meant to me to have spent these last years working with him, to tell him how much his friendship had kept me afloat when I was in danger of quietly, secretly, sinking. 

And it's like, an image flashed across my mind, just briefly, of me expressing beautifully, and with great lucidity, the deep gratitude I felt at having known him... the profound loss at seeing him leave... and the almost unbearable (if illogical) fear that, somehow, we might never meet again in this life.

I wanted to say all that, and IMAGINED myself saying it -- but of course, in TRUTH all I could muster was a weak, "Thank you," in Japanese.

Stupid.  

Whatever. It did hurt to say goodbye. I just felt totally tiny and lonely and stupid and weepy and lonely (and YES, I said lonely twice, because that was maybe the main thing). 

But this is a great thing for these guys. I mean, for Hiro and his family (Tomoko, Dai-chi, Yuki and Yuuka), this is one of those moments that will shape everything to come. His great-grandchildren will literally end up in a different place because they've taken this bold move of faith. 

So... obviously I'm excited for Hiro, and for the adventures they will have as their lives take a sharp turn towards the unknown. 

But still... 

"Setsunai, neh... Setsunai..."

31 May 2008

So, yeah -- I went to the doctor this week. Again.

(sigh) 

Cultural differences are COOL -- they are. But the differences in style between good ole 'Merican doctorin' and the Japanese system of healthcare are pretty frustrating. 

Now, no one has actually TOLD me this, but I have surmised -- the hard way -- that there is a very definite axiom -- a MANDATE, if you will -- behind all medical care in Japan:

"Don't let them die."

I can hear you thinking, "Hey, that's a GOOD thing!" -- all medical professionals should have this as one of their goals, right? 

But you're not noticing what ISN'T included in that mandate. Like, for instance, "Help them get BETTER"... 

You see, in Japan, they don't really care if you get better or not -- as long as you don't die, or approach a state which is conducive to dying, or any condition wherein "dying" becomes a distinct possibility. 

Basically, stay clear of the "DEATH" boundary, and they don't really care how you are. 

Well, I shouldn't say they don't care -- they DO care, obviously, and I've met two doctors in Japan who seemed to genuinely be interested in helping. I will qualify that, however, by noting it's two doctors out of about 10. And also, by "helping" I merely mean that they genuinely didn't want me to die. 

But even those 2 guys -- for whom I am so thankful (that's not a joke) -- even THOSE guys didn't really seem all that interested in helping me get BETTER. They just didn't want me to get much worse. And that's good, but... I don't know -- somehow it's just not quite good ENOUGH, if you see my meaning. 

So my latest experience has been with having a bad cold. It started on May 5th, that was four weeks ago. We had a BBQ at the church, and that morning it was quite warm, and I was really burning up, even turned on the A/C for the first time this year -- but by about 12pm, a cold front had rolled in, the temperature dropped like 15 degrees, and it was really pretty cold (a typhoon was sweeping by Japan). Instead of going home to get a jacket or whatever, I just sat there and froze, like an idiot, and by that evening I was sick as a dog. Feverish, sore throat -- sick.

Knowing what I do about the efficacy of professional Japanese medical help, such as it is, I had no intention of wasting a couple of hours just to be told, "You're sick! You should rest!"... So I self-medicated with various vitamins and such, doing my best to beat back the beast of a cold that was knocking me out. 

I couldn't do it. 

By Friday (May 9th), I was almost down for the count, and finally went to the "ear, nose and throat" clinic near Sagamino Station (the one back behind the bicycle parking lot) -- (and yes, they have bike parking lots in Japan, didn't you know that? DUH!). 

For you non-Americans, let me explain the system we use in the USA:
1) I become sick
2) I go to see doctor
3) Doctor prescribes medicine required to heal myself
4) I pay doctor $150
5) I take the medicine, get better, and live my life

And now, for you Americans, here's the Japanese system:
1) I become sick
2) I go to see doctor
3) Doctor makes some joke to his assistants about foreigners (optional)
4) Doctor loudly confirms, "WOW! You really ARE sick!!" 
5) Doctor shakes his/her head in sympathy/amazement
6) Doctor prescribes a tiny dose of medicine which will have no effect at all
7) Doctor says, "Come back in 5 days"
8) I pay doctor $7
9) I take the medicine, continue to be sick, or perhaps even get MORE sick
10) Wait 5 days
11) return to #2 and repeat

One will surely notice the massive price difference between the two styles -- it would seem to suggest, "Advantage: Japan!" 

But honestly, without question I tend to choose the option which delivers the "get better, live my life" results, despite the greater cost. Not to mention the fact that only paying $7 to see the doctor does NOT in ANY way even out the criminal outrage I feel for having to pay over a dollar for a single stinking banana, to give one example. Foreigners and tourists of all ilk often wonder aloud, "Why does everything cost so MUCH in Japan?!?" -- you now have one of the answers.   

Anyway, as of today, May 31st, I have been to the clinic 4 times in three weeks, have TWICE gotten WORSE between visits -- and the doctor told me to go back again this week (visit #5). Which I will do it, since, though I'm not getting better at all, at least I'm not dying...  

. . .

One new experience at this clinic that I have really appreciated during my repeated visits is the Cranial Cavity Sucking Machine™. 

Have you not had your cranial cavity sucked out?!?!? 

DUDE. 

If you have a cold or allergies or ANY kind of sinus situation going on at all, this machine will rawk your world. The way it works is, the doctor holds his Nostril Enlarging Forceps™ in one hand, and opens your nose hole. Then he inserts the Brain Penetrating Probiscus™ up in there, and squirts a little anesthesia on your air-blocking nasal passage flaps, thereby opening your inhalation tubes, as it were. After that, it's a simple matter of putting the Cranial Fluid Suck-Hose™ into your sinus cavity, whereby every drop of mucous -- foul or otherwise -- is removed from your head with the force of 10 galloping horses. Takes about 5 seconds -- wham, bam, thank you, ma'am. 

It's jarring... It's painful in a way that only a machine sucking fluid out of your cranial cavities can be... And it's also got to be MUCH more dangerous than the doctor's casual demeanor suggests (inserting tubes which suck things out of your head can't POSSIBLY be so safe as he pretends it is). 

So it's not a "fun" thing to experience. No, it's not. 

But the aftermath -- dude. 

I mean, you have gone for, like, one whole WEEK with your head sloshing back and forth, with unmentionable fluids of various colors and consistency dripping and oozing from your orifices, filling boxes of tissues -- (I'm not trying to be gross here, I'm just putting the picture in your mind) -- but you've dealt with that crap for a week, and suddenly... dude, SUDDENLY, you can BREATHE! Your head is clear, and the whole world takes on a rosy hue... 

Of course, the Love only lasts for about 6 hours before the crap is back -- but wow. THAT is a great machine!!!

1 June 2008

If the fashion sense of Japanese girls were represented by castaways on a deserted island ("no phone! no lights! no motorcar!"), then it could be said that they generally seem to think they are dressing like Ginger -- but the actual result is nothing but Lovey. 

I'm axin youz -- where are the Mary-Ann's of Japan?!?

2 June 2008

Look, I absolutely know you get tired of hearing about how expensive Japan is. But the delight of giving you concrete, real-life examples never seems to fade. 

For example, I just got back from the laundromat, where washing one load of towels and washcloths cost me $15. 

That's right. ONE load. 

Fif... Teen... Dollars... !!!

I know, I know. You are assuming this must be a special kind of laundry place. You think I got my towels all hand washed by Japanese maidens, right? Yeah -- like, they placed the towels on centuries-old stones of volcanic rock, heated from below by natural hot springs -- you can see it, right? The steam, hissing in the warm glow of candle light, as these beautiful young ladies gently massage the dirt and funk from my bath towels, in tubs overflowing with a soapy and deeply-cleansing solution, finally rinsing them in a cool and refreshing waterfall of crystal-clear spring water, gurgling down from a quiet mountain stream... 

But nah -- it was just a laundromat. A really typical laundromat for Japan, in fact. By which I mean, it's a laundromat that charges $15 to wash one stupid load of towels.  

My prediction:  I shan't return THERE any time soon...

. . .

Have I told you about Minori? She's 15 years old now, studying in a special "Super English" high school in Yokohama. 

Two weeks ago Minori announced that she had joined the so-called "cheerleading" squad at her school. 

Now, "cheerleading" in Japan apparently means NOTHING similar to what we associate with being a cheerleader in the States. It sounds like it's basically a girls' dance team that goes to competitions a couple of times a year. In fact after 20 minutes of talking I still couldn't get a single hint from her or her mother that cheerleading in Japan actually includes any leading of cheers. 

"No," she kept saying impatiently. "We just DANCE!"

Anyway, the first big dance routine they've been working on is to the music of "ABC" by the Jackson 5.

Minori -- innocent, 15-year-old, Japanese school-girl, Minori -- was wide-eyed and utterly earnest as she explained her total shock at seeing the artwork that accompanied the CD of the song: 

"I had NO IDEA that Michael Jackson used to be black!!" 

(And I have no more comment on that)...  

. . .

Speaking of musical flashbacks, I had TWO in the same day recently: 

1) Two weeks ago, on Saturday morning, Michiko and Orlando took me to the local hardware store to help me buy some boxes and tape so I can ship some books and things back home soon. This is a fairly typical "home goods" store, maybe similar to Lowe's or Home Depot in the States. But I mean, it's in Japan, right? 

So here I am, shuffling through the doorknob aisle, when it suddenly dawns on me why I'm pumped up on adrenaline and playing air guitar -- the store sound system was blasting U2's original recording of "Sunday Bloody Sunday" at full volume. 

True, one often gets weird "muzak moments" in Japan -- like hearing orchestral versions of Linkin Park tunes during breakfast at Denny's, or the original Broadway cast recording of "West Side Story" at 7-11 in the middle of the night. But hearing classic U2 at full volume in a hardware store -- that was a new one on me.  

2) Later that same night, waiting for the bus in front of Kami-Tsuruma High School, there were 7 or 8 students listening to a boom box recording of "Hey Mickey!"

I'm 100% sure it was NOT the Tony Basil version. 

But still -- I was already reeling from hearing one of the most rocking U2 songs of my high school life in a Japanese hardware store that morning -- so to THEN hear those kids humming along and then whispering to each other, right on cue, "Hey Mickey!" -- it was just plain strange. 

. . .

Well, I'm done for today. 

I'm gonna go have myself a good ole peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. 

And if that doesn't tell you everything you need to know about how exciting my life is in Japan, then you'll NEVER know...  

6 June 2008

The group of 32 people from Bethel College arrived last night to Japan; all is well, except for the two that were stopped in Chicago because of a lost passport (a girl, and her friend who also stayed behind to help her). We're hoping they can sort it out and arrive today. 

. . .

Speaking of musicians, here are the best of a few jokes someone just sent me:

Q:  How many bass players does it take to change a light bulb?
A:  1...5...1...(1...4...5...5...1)

Q: A trombone player is 'highway driving' and passes a frog driving a car next to him. What's the difference between the two?
A: The frog is on his way to a 'gig'

Q: How many Deadheads does it take to change a light bulb?
A: 12,001... One to change it, 2,000 to record the event and take pictures of it, and 10,000 to follow it around until it burns out.

Q: Know how to make a million dollars playing music?
A: Start with two million...

. . .

From now I will be in and out of touch for a week, due to our GA events. Don't be upset if I don't answer your forwarded emails about angels talking to dogs and stuff... You know who you are... 

22 July 2008

Yes, friends -- 'tis true. 

On July 23rd, 2008, I shall board the plane to the good ole U. S. of A. states, for several months of work -- all in preparation for returning to the Yuen Long / Tin Shui Wai district of HK. 

It's terribly difficult to leave Japan, I do like it here so much -- and I will miss all my friends and students very much. 

But I'll be glad to have an extended time with my family (for the first time since 2003), and I'm so excited about the possibilities opening up for this new work in HK. 

So for now, "farewell" -- but it won't be for long! I'll be back online with a new website and more Honking good times as soon as possible... 

. . .

I'll leave you with this one, simple question:

"Dog paws, anyone...?"

Download our missionary newsletters:
Jan/Feb 2008	March/April 2008	May 14 2008
May 31 2008	Special -- GA 2008	FINAL -- July 2008