The Refill issue 1

the refill Fukuoka JET newsletter

Issue #1

Onsen etiquette │ Autumn recipes │ Climbing Fuji │ Laos 1

the refill | October/November 2010

Editor’s note

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elcome to the first issue of The Refill, our bi-monthly newsletter! As you may be aware, Fukuoka is famous for a soup noodle dish called ramen (this might be an understatement). There are many ways to make a bowl of ramen your own: a dash of this, a splash of that, or a side of those.

But ramen stores in Fukuoka offer another option: a second helping of delicious noodles, called kaedama. This lets happy patrons refill their bowls with noodles, extending the life of the broth. This parallels the purpose of The Refill: Filling you in about the Fukuoka JET community and providing insight into life in Japan.

But we can’t do it alone! There are many chances for you to showcase your talents. Submissions are always welcome.

There is a lot to see and do before the next issue comes out in December so be sure to keep your pen and camera handy! The submission deadline for December is Nov. 26, but we will continue to accept submissions of any kind for future issues.

Contact us at the.refill.fukuoka@gmail.com. We look forward to hearing about your experiences as a Fukuoka JET!

Rebekah Randle Editor-in-chief

AJET: The Comic

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the refill #1 ǀ Oct/Nov 2010

Editor-in-chief Rebekah Randle

Content Editors Keliko Adams Lindsay Pyle

Layout and Design Hugh McCafferty

Copy Editor Eryk Salvaggio

Contributors Laura Cardwell John Crow Amelia Hagen Yannick McLeod Talia Nagatoshi Emily Rosenberg Wenson Tsai Tasia Yamamura

by Yannick McLeod

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Inside 4 Short shorts

Lesser-seen Fukuoka: Gallery Soap Top 5: Japanese monsters

5 Photo: Kim Ubert

8 Travel

Laos Mount Fuji

14 Living

Study tips: Dialects Onsen etiquette Autumn recipes

18 Opinion

Two months in Two years in BSG: Big Silly Gaijin

12 Photo: Hiro Kobashi

24 Entertainment Events Horoscopes

24 Reviews

Bakudan-ya AJET Hawks trip Cover photo: Wenson Tsai

Photo: Wenson Tsai

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Short shorts: Lesser-seen Fukuoka

Getting all soapy Hugh McCafferty visited Kitakyushu’s Gallery Soap in search of a culture fix

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t times, Kitakyushu can be a dreary old place.

Its steel-mill smokestacks, and the numerous other industrial relics that litter the skyline, do not make for the most inspiring of landscapes.

However, as the city has turned itself around economically, socially and environmentally over the last few decades, various initiatives have been put in place to foster a strong creative community there. The emergence of institutions such as Gallery Soap indicates that progress is being made.

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(Akita Masami) play. I was struck by the intimacy of the venue. Its minimal, concrete aesthetic and rather small capacity (100 or so) created the sense that we were watching something very secret and special. Unfazed by the ringing in our ears after weathering Akita’s sonic squall, we emerged a few hours later convinced that Kitakyushu could actually be an interesting place to live.

In addition to being a great live music venue, the space is well-suited to cozy film screenings, often hosting Cinema Caf-Cons evenings, which bring an eclectic range of contemporary and classic arthouse cinema to the city.

A recent highlight was the screening of shorts by Czech surrealist Jan Švankmajer, showcasing both his trademark stop-motion experiments and more conventional film-making efforts.

We emerged hours later convinced that Kitakyushu could be a very interesting place

Established in 1997, and located in the central district of Kokura, the performance and exhibition space is housed in what was once a small cake factory. Managed and run by artists, it is only a ten minute walk from Kokura train station and hosts a wide variety of events, including exhibitions, musical performances and film screenings.

Lectures and organised discussions also take place here and all interested parties, not just art specialists, are encouraged to participate. It exemplifies the galleries’ mission statement - that this space not become “the ghetto of the art people.”

I first visited the gallery a few months ago, when a friend invited me down to see renowned noise artist Merzbow

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In its down-time, Gallery Soap operates as a bar and café and is a nice (if somewhat poorly-lit) spot to drink coffee and flip through the various books and magazines left lying around the place.

Curry enthusiasts take note that a special seasonal menu is currently on offer, with seven types from around the globe available for your delectation.

In a city often overlooked in favor of its more cosmopolitan counterparts, Gallery Soap shows that you don’t have to go all the way to Fukuoka City for a culture fix. And if things get a little too high-brow, you can always hit the bar.

For a schedule of upcoming events, a map and directions, go to g-soap.jp.

(from left to right) Yamaji Kazuhide, Combopiano and GHOST9’N CARNIVAL have all recently played or have upcoming shows at Gallery Soap

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Photo: Vanessa Yvonne

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Short shorts: Top five

Japanese monsters Been hearing things go bump in the night? John Crow may be able to shed some light

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odzilla, savior and destroyer of Tokyo, is usually considered the quintessential Japanese monster. However, Japan has a rich tradition of supernatural creatures that stretches back far earlier. Though impossible to rank, here’s a small selection of some notable yokai (monsters) you may one day meet.

5. Tengu (天狗, heavenly dogs) Bearing large wings and a nose rivaled only by the Italian Pinocchio’s, these powerful beings appeared along with Chinese Buddhism during the Nara period in the 8th century. Their image has changed considerably since then, ranging from warlike beings to comical spirits. Usually dressed as yamabushi (mountain hermits), tengu are also strongly associated with Shugendo, an ascetic religion that encourages physical and spiritual training in isolation.

Contrary to this image, however, the tengu’s massive nose is sometimes considered a symbol of virility, which further illustrates that what precisely a tengu represents depends largely on who one asks.

4. Kijimuna (キジムナー, Kijimuna) Native to Okinawa, these elflike yokai are described as small, red haired children who live in banyan trees. Adept fishermen, they live off the sea and are oftentimes seen near strange, unnatural fires. Kijimuna have a friendly relationship with humans, occasionally playing pranks but rarely acting in anger. If pressed, a human can easily drive one away by presenting it with a mere octopus. As the most popular Okinawan yokai, statues and art depicting them is commonplace in Okinawa.

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3. Tanuki (タヌキ, raccoon dog) Occasionally sighted rummaging through garbage in rural areas, these raccoon dogs are said to sometimes possess powers of transformation, like many other animals.

Unlike more malevolent shape shifters, tanuki are almost universally described as easygoing and mischievous. Their enormous testicles are the subject of jokes, but are quite useful, as tanuki can use them as drums to scare enemies.

Tanuki statues are often found outside businesses — ironic considering that they trick humans by paying with leaves instead of money.

2. Tsukumogami (付喪神, artifact spirit) Limitless in form and ability, these yokai are man-made items that gain life and awareness after surviving for 100 years. Swords, mirrors, instruments, even sandals and umbrellas are known to have become tsukumogami.

When loved and preserved they become benevolent yokai but, if discarded or broken, they become vengeful entities that seek revenge on unkind owners. Unfortunately, tsukumogami cannot stand electricity, so their creation is extremely rare these days.

1. Kappa (河童, river child) The perfect mixture of charm and horror, kappa are the most polite yokai you’ll ever meet that wouldn’t hesitate to suck your soul out through your butt if given the chance.

These water-dwelling humanoids live in rivers and lakes across Japan, but venture out to harass humans living nearby. When confronted by a kappa, the best approach is to bow deeply, as they will instinctively follow suit. Kappas keep water in an indentation atop their head which, when spilled, weakens them. If refilled by a human, they will pledge eternal loyalty as repayment.

Enjoy your time in Japan, but stay informed and know your yokai, so that, if the time comes, you know when to smile and when to run.

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Travel

Chasing the Akha tribe in Laos Wenson Tsai overcame leeches and elderly nudity in search of adventure in Laos

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hree days it took me, by plane and bus, to get to Phongsali, and another nine hours of trekking into the mountains to get to the first village. There were no roads that a motorbike could handle.

There were often no paths to follow. There were, however, plenty of leeches and opportunities to go to the bathroom outside. And when nature called, it was a surprisingly liberating experience that almost convinced me of the communism that is pants.

After the first two hours of sliding and falling on rocks in the rain and screaming at the sight of leeches consistently trying to break into my shoe, I put away the two cameras dangling around my neck and realized that this was not the pleasant rolling-hill stroll I had taken in Myanmar.

You see, I wasn’t always such a hill-tribe junkie. I didn’t always get excited at the sight of a few people dressed in home-patched clothes, looking at me with the detachment

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of wild buffalo. I used to enjoy going to beaches and shopping for cheap knock-off brands in the day, clubbing at night and staying in fancy hotels with all-you-can-eat breakfasts. And I still do. It’s just not the same.

Four hours into day one of three and my leg was already twitching with cramps. Three days of an originally fourday trek that I had compressed to get more out of my time: How American of me. Oh, and I hate hiking! So, over lunch, I thought I’d ask the friendlier of the two Lao guides ignoring me, “Just in case we cannot complete the trail in time, is there another way down the mountain?”

“No,” he said. “No way down!” It was the hardest pork rind I ever had to swallow.

My mother doesn’t understand why I don’t sign up for bus tours or enjoy being waited on hand and foot on a cruise boat. “Why do you want to go to a dangerous place?” She October/November 2010 │

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would say. I am not sure I know the answer. What I do know is limited and perhaps naive, motivated by fantasy but powered by curiosity for the myriad forms that human culture can take. How are we convinced of things that we convince ourselves of? How do we remain aware that most actions we make meaning out of can be futile?

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and spirit.

Just as an example, if you are a girl who finds shirts oppressive, you should marry an Akha in Laos. After marriage, women let their bounty talk to the sun and clouds, even while chopping down trees. It’s amazing to see such regularly hidden treasures out and about casually saying, “Hello!

So, you’re from around here, too?” It says to me that anything is possible.

Anything is possible! Even the old grandmas were presenting their gracious welcomes to me!

I realized this was not the pleasant rolling-hill stroll I had taken in Myanmar

My time spent living with indigenous tribes in detached rural societies has been like washing the pinky toes of Jesus. It’s like I’m on the brink of enlightenment, but still on the outside looking in. Things don’t have to be the way they are. Most of what’s going on around us is constructed. To realize that society and our ideas on things like ‘success’ can change is the refreshing pina colada, umbrella and deserted white-sand beach for my heart, mind

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”

Unfortunately, unseeing some things in life is not possible.

However, you should go to Laos.

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All photos by Wenson Tsai

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Fujisan:

there and back

Keliko Adams trekked all the way to the top of Japan’s highest, most iconic mountain – and made it back to tell the tale

Photo: Keliko Adams

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ooking back, I saw the line of headlamps behind me. That’s all I could see through the haze of water droplets suspended in the frozen air. The stranger in front of me swayed back and forth, stumbling over rocks across the trail, and I reached out a hand to steady him, but also slowed my pace to keep a safe distance behind. Two people had died on the mountain the previous day, said the man working at the 5th station, and I didn’t want either of us to be like them.

I breathed a sigh of relief when his friends noticed that he was struggling, and helped him up the mountain.

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I was struggling as well.

About an hour from the top, I remember walking past a small Japanese woman dressed in tattered robes and scarves, her feet in geta hovering above the ground and thanking us for coming to Fuji-san. She was our cheerleader, asking us to be careful and urging us to fight, fight! But as I saw the man in front continue to stumble and shake his head as if in a daze, I realized my head was as foggy as the air around me, and that the kind Japanese woman welcoming us was just a hallucination.

other. The last hour to the top was silent, as my two friends and I focused on just making it there. No more stories or shared thoughts. We checked in on each other with hands touching each others’ backs, feet falling into each others’ tracks. Our breaks were short because the air was so cold and so wet, that stopping to drink water froze our muscles. So we hiked a slow, steady pace, eventually forming into a string of bobbing lights and clomping feet with the rest of the climbers, herding ourselves to the top, keeping each other in line and moving upward. Some people complain about the stream of people on Mt. Fuji in the climbing season, but I was grateful for it. I’m not sure I would have made it to the top without them.

Two people had died on the mountain the previous day and I didn’t want to be like them

The air at the top of Fuji is thin, and after hiking for 5 hours with few breaks in the night, my brain was struggling to do more than put one foot in front of the

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Real or imaginary, we helped each other trudge through the mud and rocks, pulled each other up ropes, ganbatte’d through the tough spots and otsukaresama’d after each small victory. When the sun comes up over Mt. Fuji, there are thousands of people littered across the summit.

Sitting under a sleeping bag at 4 a.m. with my friends next to me, near the man who was walking in front of me, the girls who waited in line for the toilet behind me, the group of Chinese backpackers from the bus around me – everyone who had poured their sweat into Fuji’s dirt and breathed Fuji’s crisp air – I appreciated the struggle we all endured to get there.

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Living

Fun with Fukuoka-ben 博多弁 筑後弁

福岡弁

Emily Rosenberg provides a few tips on how to really impress coworkers at an enkai

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erhaps you’re at an enkai practicing your latest Japanese when one of your coworkers turns to you and asks, “Do you know Hakata/Kitakyushu/ Chikugo/Chikuho-ben?” Your coworker is not, in fact, asking if you know a foreigner named Ben from any of those regions, but whether or not you’re familiar with the regional dialect, known as –ben in Japanese.

If you have studied Japanese in a formal setting or with a book, you have learned hyōjungo, the “standard” dialect that was designated for easy communication between Japanese speakers of all regions. A standard language in Japan is necessary because every region in the country has its own local dialect, which quickly becomes unintelligible to people from other areas.

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北九州弁 田川弁

read「今年やらないといかないよ！」(Kotoshi yaranai to ikanai yo!).

This is a good example of a few key elements in Hakataben. One of these elements is the tendency to shorten the negative form of a verb from ～ない (~nai) to ～ん (~n), as in やらん (yaran) and いかん (ikan). Hakata-ben speakers use this shortened negative form with most of their verbs, such as 知らん (shiran, “I don’t know”), 分からん (wakaran, “I don’t understand”), and 好かん (sukan, “I don’t like”).

The Hawks’ slogan also presents the sentence-ending particle ばい (bai) that in Hakata often replaces the standard よ (yo) for making an emphatic statement. Other common features in Hakata-ben include the use of や (ya) as the linking verb to replace だ (da, loosely meaning “to be”), and the use of けん (ken) instead of から (kara), which together form the phrase やけん (yaken), meaning “because” (in standard language, this would be said using だから, dakara).

You will also often hear native Fukuokans using よ か (yoka) to mean “good” or “ok” in place of the standard いい (ii).

Two of the most notable Japanese dialects are Kansai-ben, spoken in and around Osaka, and Fukuoka’s very own Hakata-ben

Beyond hyōjungo, two of the most notable Japanese dialects are Kansai-ben, spoken in and around Osaka and popularized in TV comedy routines, and Fukuoka’s very own Hakata-ben, which is representative of many characteristics of western Japanese dialects.

This year’s slogan for Pacific League baseball champions, the Fukuoka Softbank Hawks (GO HAWKS!), was 「今年や らんといかんばい！」(Kotoshi yaran to ikan bai!), which translates along the lines of “This year, we MUST do it!”

The Japanese in this phrase may sound strange to those unfamiliar with the Hakata-ben, which in hyōjungo would

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This might be a lot to take in, since Hakata-ben, like any Japanese dialect, can seem like a language unto itself. But if you find the difference between Hakata-ben and hyōjungo to be overwhelming, it might surprise you that there are further and more subtle differences between Hakata-ben and the dialects spoken in the other regions of Fukuoka Prefecture. These differences are far too many to delve into here, but at your next enkai, why not ask your coworkers to teach you some Tagawa-ben or Kitakyushu-ben, or perhaps some Chikugo-ben?

Throw a little local dialect into your conversation with the natives, and no doubt they will be duly impressed!

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Onsen etiquette Talia Nagatoshi on how to make your onsen experience as stress-free as possible

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or a foreigner, visiting an onsen can be intimidating.

You already might not speak the language, but here, you’re also completely nude with other people. So to help with some of the confusion and awkwardness, here’s how to take a bath “onsen” style.

First of all, onsen are usually divided by sex. Entrance fees usually range from 400 to 800 yen. There are often shoe lockers near the entrance and a vending machine into which you insert your money and get a paper ticket. You hand this with your locker key to the person at the front counter.

In exchange you’ll get another key for the dressing room locker. The vending machines have bathing products if you forget your own, however most establishments have 2-in1 shampoo/conditioner and body soap inside the shower area.

current pools to stimulate your metabolism, medicinal pools for good skin, or dry and steam saunas to sit in. The most common pools are hot and cold, and by cold, I mean ice cold. If you want to enter the cold pool be sure to bucket yourself down with the cold water to wash off sweat.

Onsen are a social place. Don’t be surprised if a stranger tries to strike up a conversation. Be polite by greeting others if greeted. If you can’t pass as a Japanese person, you might be approached by a curious person. If you are uncomfortable with your students seeing you nude, don’t go to an onsen in your area. Students often go to onsen with their family.

Most onsen do not allow tattoos. Tattoos are associated with yakuza, the Japanese mafia. If you do have one and want to experience an onsen, some establishments rent private onsen, which are intended for families or couples.

What you absolutely must have is a wash/modesty towel.

This towel is for scrubbing yourself down and covering parts that you would otherwise not expose to others while walking around.

The bathing area is divided into two sections. The first has mirrors, stools and buckets for showering. Head there, and wash everything - and I mean everything - including your hair. You should be clean before entering the baths. This also means no bathing suits. Bathing suits imply that you haven’t cleaned everywhere and others might think of your bathing suit as dirty. Spend adequate time scrubbing to convince everyone else that you’re clean.

After you’re clean, head to the onsen pools. If you have long hair, be sure to pin it up. You can use your modesty towel to wrap up your hair like a turban to prevent loose hairs from floating off into the bath (which is not OK) - or you can fold your towel and lay it on your head. Your modesty towel should never be soaked in the bath water. Use a bucket to scoop up some bath water and viscously rinse your towel there. Then you can cover yourself up and enter with the towel on. If you aren’t using your towel you can leave it on the side or hang it on a railing. By my third visit I pretty much gave up trying to hide everything as most Japanese people don’t, either.

Swimming and splashing others in the baths is not acceptable, but children doing so are tolerated.

There may be more than one pool to soak in, from electric-

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Photo: Talia Nagatoshi

While the range of pools are limited, renting a private pool with friends is always fun.

Experiencing onsen while you are in Japan is a definite must. As fall is creeping up, now is the perfect time to ask around and scout out places to go this winter.

Happy soaking!

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Delicious autumn eats Tasia Yamamura shares some seasonal recipes

Autumn Minestrone Soup (adapted from The Art of Simple Food)

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utumn is finally here: Soup season! This healthy, hearty soup recipe is more of a guideline than a list of specific directions – you can basically throw whatever vegetables you like in it. The herbs are the most important part. It takes a bit of time for everything to simmer into one pot of deliciousness, but it’s worth it.

This is also freezer-friendly, so make a large batch over the weekend, divide into smaller Tupperware containers and freeze. You will thank yourself during the week when - yes, when! - you’re too lazy to cook and don’t want to eat McDonald’s or a combini bento…. again.

Prep time: 10-15 minutes

Ingredients: • 1½ cups dried beans (the original recipe calls for cannellini beans, but anything you can find on the cheap at a supermarket will work). Soak the beans overnight.

• ¼ cup olive oil • 1 large onion, finely chopped • 2 carrots, peeled and finely chopped • 4 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped • About 1 tsp dried thyme (3/4 tsp if using ground thyme) • 1 tsp dried rosemary • 1 medium tomato, chopped • 2 bunches spinach, or any other dark green vegetable, chopped into bite-size pieces • 4 cups cubed kabocha (Japanese pumpkin- which some say tastes like a cross between a pumpkin and a sweet potato) or any other type of squash

Optional: 250g chicken breast, cut into bite-sized pieces Optional: Parmesan Cheese to sprinkle when serving (it’s freaking expensive here, so you can go without it).

Optional (but recommended): ½ cup dried barley (soak these overnight, too).

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Photo: Tasia Yamamura

Cooking time: About 1 hour

Directions: Step 1: Drain the beans you’ve soaked overnight and boil in water until soft. Salt towards the end of cooking and save the water you cooked them in. Set aside.

Step 2: Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat.

Add the onions and carrots and cook for 15 minutes or until tender. Salt to taste. Salting gradually throughout the cooking process, rather than all at once, helps the soup develop flavor as you go.

Step 3: Add garlic, thyme, rosemary, bay leaves, and 2 tsp salt. Cook for about 5 minutes.

Step 4: Add tomato and your choice of green vegetables.

You can also drain and add your barley or grain of choice to the pot now. Cook for 5 minutes.

Step 5: In a separate pan, sauté the chicken until the outside is cooked (about 5 minutes). Throw this into your soup pot. You can also add the barley at this point.

Step 6: Add 3 cups of water and boil for 15 minutes.

Then add your kabocha. Taste and salt if necessary.

Cook until the kabocha is nice and tender (about 10-15 minutes).

Step 7: Lastly, add the cooked beans and 1 cup of the liquid (or more, depending on how much is needed to cover all of the veggies in your pot).

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Lemon Bars

(recipe from allrecipes.com)

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kay. I know what you’re thinking: One whole cup of butter? But “everything in moderation,” right? It’s not every day that you get to eat these, so bake your lemon bars and eat them, too (or share!). You can take a bike ride, leisurely walk or run later.

If you haven’t experimented with your oven/microwave oven yet, it may take a little bit of practice to determine if you need to tweak recipes (in terms of pre-heating temperature). The first time I made these, the crust was all bubbly and weird after 20 minutes of baking so I had to leave it in for a bit longer. It ended up being delicious… just not very attractive!

Prep time: The time it takes for your oven to preheat Ingredients: • 1 cup butter, softened • ½ cup white sugar • 2 cups all-purpose flour • 4 eggs • 1½ cups white sugar • 4 tbsp all-purpose flour • 2 lemons, juiced

Directions: Step 1: Preheat your oven to 175 degrees Celsius.

Step 2: In a medium-sized bowl, blend the softened butter, 2 cups flour and ½ cup white sugar. Press this into the bottom of an ungreased 9x13 inch pan.

Step 3: Bake for 15-20 minutes in the preheated oven, or until firm and golden. In another bowl, whisk together the remaining 1½ cups sugar and 4 tbsp flour. Whisk in the eggs and lemon juice. Pour this over the baked crust.

Step 4: Bake for an additional 20 minutes. If it’s your first time baking these, you may be wondering “Are these supposed to be a big squishy blob?” But don’t worry; the bars will firm up as they cool.

Optional: Sprinkle powdered sugar and grate some lemon zest (the peel of the lemon) on the top for a more attractive presentation.

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Opinion

Two months in First year JET Lindsay Pyle’s early impressions of life in Japan

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he heat is stifling in this gymnasium. When the principle motions for me to approach the podium, it is so silent in that you can hear the sweat running down my neck, and the sound of my nylon stockings sliding across the floor. It is the only time today that these 271 junior high students have been quiet. I realize, with this flimsy piece of paper covered in Romaji quivering in my sweaty fingers, that 11 years after leaving junior high school, I am still afraid of being uncool.

“Are they gonna like me?” I wonder. And then I wonder, “Does that even matter?” And then I think, “It does.” And then two seconds later, I think, “It doesn’t.” And then I am reading what’s written on my piece of paper over the feedback from the microphone.

“Ohaiyo Gozaimasu mina-san, hajimemashite...” The sound of my shaky voice wrings out the silence that has been hanging like a wet rag in that empty space above the students’ heads. Blood is throbbing through my veins as I try to remember to silence the “u” at the end of words and lose the “w” in “wo.”

This is the live wire — a twitching vibration I have felt incessantly since I arrived. Here, I am never in stasis. This is where my thoughts reel and sleep is not restful. Here, I am always too hot, too loud, too tired, too different, too scattered. Call it “typical me,” call it “the adjustment phase,” call it “awkward,” call it whatever you want, but really... it just is what it is. It’s like a steam-engine that I can’t stop, so it doesn’t matter what you call it.

Here my existence has become a messy pile of papers, pens poking out of my bag, Tupperware containers leaking lunch juice. I’m running down the stairs one minute before the bus leaves, milk bread in mouth, with no time to brush my teeth, fumbling yen I can’t count, up onto the crowded bus and spit out in front of a class of teen-somethings. Then I am standing like a useless fixture before a bunch of students who don’t know, don’t care, can’t seem to make the perfect paper airplane and won’t be bothered because they are catching up on their sleep.

The only thing I want to yell in front of the class - aside

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from, “Today is TUESday! And it is SUNNY!” - is... “I GET it!”

My eyes burn because I also didn’t sleep enough last night. I don’t want to get called on because I don’t know the answer, either. The thought of opening that textbook makes me want to climb into the nearest hole, too.

I get it. You don’t need it. You don’t need me, or English, or anyone else telling you to perform another rote task.

I get it. We cannot wear our piercings at school, paint our nails or gel our stylish haircuts. Make-up, cologne and individuality are frowned upon. We are given no responsibility, so we take none. We don’t want to answer your question because we are afraid of failure. We want something from you, but we don’t know how to ask for it.

And then the locomotive stops moving.

And everything is still.

I take a deep breath in front of the classroom and close my eyes. In that moment, I am on Mt. Kuju. There is only the sound of the birds, the wind, the criss-cross pattern of a light rain on my windbreaker. The clock ticks slowly and the ground feels solid.

Here, there is always the exact amount of yen in my wallet. My rice cooker has my breakfast ready before I wake. The bus driver knows my stop. The smell of this place is familiar, even though I have never been here.

Although I cannot understand the words she uses, her voice is a soothing tune that my mother used to hum when I was a child. The sleep is sweet and strong. My dreams are vivid. I am 10 minutes early for the first time in my life. And I am dressed for the part.

Back in the gymnasium, I have gripped the piece of paper until the ink has begun to smear. I have only a vague idea of what I just said. But before I walk offstage, I give one last bow to let them know that I am honored to be here.

Because right now, that is the only thing I know for sure.

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Photo: Ajari

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Culture shock: Sometimes Japan feels like a very strange place indeed. Photo: Emran Kassin

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Two years in Laura Cardwell shares the highs and lows of her JET experience and looks ahead to her final, third year

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or most people, the first couple of months in Japan are absolute bliss, big bugs and heat rash be damned. Yet as the home air conditioning units switch off and we begin dusting off leather jackets and scarves, it’s not uncommon for many JETs – especially first-years – to start feeling the panicked downward spiral of the first Big Slump.

I recently hit the two-year mark on my life here in the coal mining territories of Tagawa and am gunning it for year three, a.k.a., “The Home Stretch.” Around this time into my first year in Japan, life got grim and I got mad. Curious locals who looked at me too long got yelled at. I published angry blog entries almost daily. Tickets to Amsterdam for a Christmas escape I would neither forget nor remember were booked. Anything and everything Japanese was demonized and grumbled about. Why can’t these fools update their banking system? Why is everyone at work so passive-aggressive? What the hell are you staring at?!

Despite the persistent rage, my social life flourished.

Perhaps most importantly, I developed a weekly routine that brought me great comfort. It’s difficult to form comforting routines in the chaos of shifting schedules during school and seasonal gigs in summer. But with a 9-5 weekday job, it’s much easier. The Slump beast, mollified by a low-stress system of Ladies’ Day every Wednesday, retreated into its cave well before Christmas. I was even a little reluctant to hop on my KLM flight to Amsterdam.

A jaunt abroad that winter was wonderfully rejuvenating and I recommend it. The decision to re-contract was obvious: I felt like I was only really getting started. My confidence spiked and after a big staff change I was no longer the office newbie. Somewhere around the one-year checkpoint, I went home for the first time. I’m fairly sure that for everyone in our situation, that first trip home is a mind-boggling Twilight Zone of miniature identity crises:

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I caught myself saying “at home” when I talked about Japan.

My second fall was much better. I met all these new people and felt like I really knew what I was doing.

Smugly, I felt like I had beaten culture shock. I signed my re-contracting papers months before they were due. I started eating better and lost a ton of weight.

Life ran smoothly until I hit the second Big Slump.

Big Slump 2 lasted for almost three months. It was much worse than Big Slump 1 and I pondered daily whether I had clinical depression. I got mad, but I got sad, too. It was teenage angst all over again. During Big Slump 2 I convinced myself that my second summer visit to the U.S. would set things right, so I focused all my energy on that trip. When I got back to Japan and fell back into the slump, I was disappointed in myself and wondered if I was broken.

No one wants to admit that those studies on culture shock are based on reality. No matter how adaptable you claimed to be in your cover letter, you are vulnerable.

Humans, especially Westernized humans, are creatures of individualistic habit and pride. We all want to feel special and we are bad at admitting our weaknesses. Don’t be a casualty of hubris – simply admitting “I am experiencing culture shock and it feels awful” could be your cure.

I will not be recontracting for a fourth year. I am done here. I have made lifelong friendships, discovered I don’t want to be a high school teacher, quit smoking and missed several of my best friends’ weddings. I am done with the job, done with being a guest in a country that I do not wish to become a permanent fixture in, and I can barely remember what my friends look like. It’s as simple as it sounds: I’m ready to move on with my life.

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Les adventures de Gaijin: KonAir

by Big Silly Gaijin

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tepping off the plane at Fukuoka-kuko Mr. Gaijin thought to himself “My, it’s hot here, I’d better switch on the ea-kon as soon as I arrive at my new home!” He chuckled to himself - “Ha, ‘ea-kon’, this Japanese-speak isn’t as tricky as they all say!” Foolishly, Mr. Gaijin had spent his time pre-departure listening to the Rolling Stones, not Rosetta Stone. As he awkwardly clambered down the aircraft stairs he chirped “Bye bye!” to the fine-looking JAL hostess. She replied with a “Bai bai” of her own and Mr. Gaijin thought, “I didn’t even remember to bring my copy of Japanese for JETs, but it hasn’t stopped me from speaking to the Japanese on jets! It’s all going to be plane sailing!” Mr. Gaijin laughed out loud, he loved his own jokes.

One week on and Mr. Gaijin had not laughed since the airport. The cruel Kyushu summer was in far contrast to the breezy Baltic Sea fishing port from whence he came. Mr. Gaijin lay awake, his eyes glued to a large spider weaving in the corner, his ears pricked by the mosquitoes swirling round his head. It was 1.30 a.m. and 34 °C. Mr. Gaijin couldn’t stop sweating and couldn’t drink the water from the tap. Mr Gaijin couldn’t stop sweating because he had no ea-kon. Exasperated, he decided to ask for help the next morning from his kind neighbour, Honda-san. “Honda-san, I love Japan, but I have not slept for 7 days!”. Honda-san chortled, “Ha big silly Gaijin, you haven’t slept for a week!?

Get in the car!”

Honda-san drove Mr. Gaijin to the local electronics store, Yermaa. Once there Mr. Gaijin thought, “Why don’t I arrange to get the Internet here while Honda-san sorts out my air conditioning?” Mr. Gaijin trotted over to the Internet desk where the he was welcomed by the assistant and politely invited to sit down. Of course Mr. Gaijin didn’t know this so he remained standing, as his confused silly Gaijin face spluttered “Nihon-go, i-e...”. After protracted negotiations between Mr. Gaijin and the entire staff of the store, he signed a contract that he didn’t understand but the feeling of relief was mutual. As Mr. Gaijin was naturally clumsy and had gigantic Japanese size 31 feet, he thought a wireless Internet router might be a good purchase. Unfortunately it said on the side of the router ‘Compatible with Japanese computers only’. Through a final series of hand gestures Mr. Gaijin tried to tell the staff he did not want the router anymore as it would not work, but he was greeted with smiles from the staff. “Oh this box works,” assured the head assistant as he flapped his hand back and forth between the router and the computer, “Internet travels through air.”

Mr.Gaijin’s air still doesn’t have Internet, but at least it does have kon.

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Photo: Hugh McCafferty

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Entertainment

Event guide compiled by Amelia Hagen

Photo: Bill Selak

Do not miss NaNoWriMo Throughout November

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aNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, is a challenge to write a 50,000-word novel in the space of one month. There is no fee involved, but you can sign up on the Nanowrimo website for encouragement and ideas. The founders figured that November is cold and gloomy enough to make it an ideal month to hole up in your apartment and start writing down all of those story ideas that have been kicking around in your brain for years; they don’t know how true it is for all of us here in Japan. So stock up on food and kerosene for your heater and get to writin’!

For more information, check out: www.nanowrimo.org.

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October Banana Fair Mojiko Retro, until October 24 Experience banana overload

Lau Café Galleria, October 22; Studio Kura, October 24 Check out this Finnish singer/songwriter in Fukuoka City

November

Photo: Manel

Hakushu Festival (白秋) Yanagawa City, November 1 – 3 A lively event held to commemorate the anniversary of great poet Hakushu Kitahara’s death. In the festival’s water parade, participants riding 110 boats glide down the river launching fireworks while singing children’s and traditional songs.

Karatsu Kunchi Festival Karatsu, Saga Prefecture, November 2 – 4 A certain 5th year JET has been quoted as saying it’s the best festival he’s ever been to in Japan. Full of vibrant floats, this matsuri in Karatsu, Saga is one of the most popular in Kyushu.

Saga Balloon Festa Outside Saga City, Saga Prefecture, November 3 – 7 Be blown away by a plethora of massive, colorful hot air balloons just outside of Saga City. Expect to hear lots of international music and don’t forget to drop by the numerous food stalls too!

Photo: Randy Sertiet

Kyushu Basho (Sumo) Kokusai Center, Hakata, November 14 – 28 Don’t miss your chance to see sumo live in Fukuoka!

Shichi-go-san Festival All over Japan, November 15 This matsuri celebrates children who are three, five, and seven years old this year. Events will be taking place all over the country Desmond and the Tutus Kieth Flack, November 16 Fronted by Shane Durrant, this South African indie rock band is sure to make a splash at Kieth Flack.

Amateur Noh Festival Houman Shrine, Takata-machi, November 17 Head out to Takata-machi’s Houman Shrine on a Hikaribound train from Yanagawa for a chance to catch some noh in action.

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Eikichi Yazawa Marine Messe, Fukuoka, November 22/23 Rock out to this legendary J-pop singer-songwriter from Hiroshima at Marine Messe Fukuoka.

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 Zodiac signs with Lindsay Pyle

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Ideas drawn from Sextrology: Astrology of Sex and the Sexes

by Stella Starsky and Quinn Cox (Market LLC, NY. 2004).

Aries (March 21 – April 20) Aries man: The one. The original man, boyish or brutally macho – self-assured, comfortable in his own skin and fearless in his ambitions. He plays to win.

Aries woman: The original. At ease in a man’s world. Singleminded, ambitious and drama-free, successful in all pursuits because she keeps it simple.

Taurus (April 21 – May 21) Taurus man: The Idol. Elegant and disarming with seemingly no agenda. This allows him to be a strategizing man of reaction who remains guarded with an uncanny ability to get others to play their cards at the game of life while never revealing his.

Taurus woman: The Ideal. A beautiful, fun-loving character who creates a joyous playland of her life that she shares with those around her.

Gemini (May 22 – June 21) Gemini man: The Good fellow. The ultimate insider. Unable to sit still, he is both sides of the coin at the same time, successfully moving in one direction or another: making friends, joining clubs or gaining access to any milieu he desires.

Gemini woman: The Gift. Often caught between extremes – a constant desire and ability to be the best and her unquestionable vulnerability. Always able to manipulate situations, she is iconic and leaves everything she touches altered in her wake.

Cancer (June 22 – July 22) Cancer man: The Player. Prince charming: Clean cut, wellmanner and composed, he aims to be a good provider and has a knack for nurturing. Tends toward the arts, but usually prefers to work alone.

Cancer woman: The Pearl. The most emotive woman in the zodiac, she wears her heart on her sleeve and professes her emotions even when it is not advised. She is intuitive, inherently motherly and feminine.

Leo (July 23 – August 22) Leo Man: The Natural. The zodiac’s leader and golden boy: Full of charisma, honesty, outspokenness and ambition, he dedicates intelligence and skill in achieving goals he considers rationally and passionately.

Leo woman: The Knockout. The powerhouse woman of the zodiac, the lioness. The center of attention: Powerful, attractive and as worthy of a King’s crown as any man on the planet.

Virgo (August 23 – September 22) Virgo man: The Vehicle. A master of disguises, seldom letting people in to know his emotional side. Often disappointed due to high expectations.

Virgo woman: The Vessel. Mother earth incarnate, both delicate and difficult and capable of sizing up any individual with one glance. Rational, emotional, nurturing and capable of solving any problem.

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Libra (September 23 – October 23) Libra man: The Character. The zodiac’s renaissance man, constantly recreating the world to match his artistic vision.

A liberal thinker with a knack for order, the world this man creates is a parallel universe.

Libra woman: The Charm. The zodiac’s activist, the most principled person on the wheel. If there is a wrong, she strives to right it, and she uses a fine intellect to weigh arguments and reach decisions.

Scorpio (October 24 – November 21) Scorpio man: The Stranger. A severe individual. Obsessed with experience, constantly examining life outside of the maddening crowd. For him, the essence of life must be squeezed every single day.

Scorpio woman: The Specimen. A true fan and believer of herself, Scorpio woman is the woman in the zodiac most likely to have a throng of followers laying out a red carpet.

Her power, allure and self-control are unquestionable despite her poker face.

Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21) Sagittarius man: The Maverick. The zodiac’s libertarian.

Skirting all the rules and living in harmony with chaos, this mythic man can achieve anything, because he rewrites the rules when he doesn’t like them.

Sagittarius woman: The Maven. Brains, beauty, body, and the ability to see her goal through to success. Not necessarily domineering, she achieves success by taking her time, with a great deal of glamour.

Capricorn (December 22 – January 20) Capricorn man: The Stickler. Frequently called the king among men, naturally inclined to a wealthy sophistication, despite how much money he has. Although, because he is a bit of a penny pincher, he is never hurting for cash.

Capricorn woman: The Sleeper. Truly is a class act. Hard working, self-composed and elegant. She does not work for the accolades of others and is the least showy lady in the zodiac. She longs to achieve a quality life, where self-respect is of most importance.

Aquarius (January 21 – February 19) Aquarius man: The Visitor. The most estranged man in the zodiac. Detached, cool, and incredibly forward thinking.

Known to start revolutions, invent things, or amass a throng of cult followers. Devoted to the humanitarian effort but can be didactic.

Aquarius woman: The Vision. An inspiration. Frequently childlike in her vision of the world, every day is spent playing and finger painting along the road of life.

Pisces (February 20 – March 20) Pisces man: The Drifter. The self-made man, unconcerned with the trappings of this world, he lives his dream, rather than working toward it. Usually working in the arts, he is a creative force who is the embodiment of his vision.

Pisces woman: The Dream. The last woman in the zodiac, possessing all things feminine and complex – lovely, dramatic, emotional and high-strung. Existence is tortured and full of peril, but she maintains an incredible grace in her being.

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Reviews

Photo: Wenson Tsai

Bakudan-Ya Locations throughout Japan See www.bakudanya.net for your nearest one

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or those of you who enjoy challenges, even while eating, I have the place for you. It’s called BakudanYa - translated literally as “the bomb house” - and they are famous for tsukemen, which is like a disassembled ramen. The noodles and topping are served dry on a plate, and you dip them into a broth before eating them.

It’s tucked away in a tiny alley in Daimyo, Tenjin, the exterior easy to miss. Instead, look for the large board with pictures of celebrities who’s faces were blown off by the explosive stands outside. Bakudan Ya originates from Hiroshima and is a successful chain, having shops overseas in Taiwan and recently Thailand.

This Fukuoka Daimyo location is tiny with chicken wire on the windows, fittingly looking like a bomb shelter with corrugated steel. Tons of colored wooden planks cover the walls. Decorated by guests, they commemorate those brave

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enough to try the upper spice levels. Currently, only the names of those who have taken down bowls from level 10 to 50 are displayed on the walls, but they told me that Level 200 is now available.

So this being Japan and all, just really, how spicy is it?

Japanese food is not known for spiciness and Japanese people generally don’t enjoy it too much.

Level 3 is their recommended level. Level 6-10 is for people who enjoy spicy food. And next to Level 11: “Please talk it over with your body first!”

I started at three and it was a Taco Bell Mild Sauce at best. So I upped it to seven, a good holy number. Seven was enjoyable and I even had a few sweat beads make an appearance, but still nothing to worry about. For those that enjoy spicy food I think you could top Level 10 easily and get your name plank on the wall at the minimum commemoration ranks. But start slow, just in case. You can always add spice, but you can’t take it away.

Usually, I’m not very impressed with tsukemen. I always feel it’s a poor man’s ramen during a soup shortage (is there such a thing?). But this tsukemen was satisfying, the spiciness a nice change from the mildness of most Japanese cuisine. When I was finished I was actually looking on the menu for a kaedama (refill noodle order), and I’m not a kaedama guy. Wenson Tsai October/November 2010 │

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AJET Softbank Hawks trip

Photo: Josh Berglund

Fukuoka Softbank Hawks vs. Saitama Siebu Lions September 20 2010

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n Monday, Sept. 20, a group of Fukuoka JETs and friends gathered to watch the Softbank Hawks play against the Saitama Seibu Lions.

Upon entering the stadium, everybody could feel the excitement and competitive tension, and we warmed to the atmosphere.

At the top of the first inning, the Lions went out ahead with a home run. We weren’t aware that our seating was near the visiting team. When the Lions made their run, the crowd around us erupted in passionate cheers. Caught up in the energy, a few of us cheered alongside them only to realize we had cheered for the wrong team!

Owing to the laid-back, slow-moving pace of baseball, there was plenty of time for outgoing members of group to move about, making new friends and catching up with old ones.

The baseball experts had time to explain the rules of the game to the novices, some of whom compared the game to a British game called “rounders.” This led to a

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discussion of the rules of rounders and an interesting moment of cultural exchange between members of the JET community. It’s amazing how different our experiences are even though we come from similar backgrounds and speak the same language. How much more awesome is it to be in a culture whose background is completely different from our own?

The cheerleaders rushing the field between innings, the drunks drinking yet never getting raucous, the taiko drums being beaten and echoing loudly throughout the covered dome - All examples of a culture taking what they know, applying it to what they’ve been given, and creating an exciting experience that is new and yet strangely, almost eerily, familiar. These are the reasons we came to Japan.

The Hawks, down by three runs, executed a beautiful comeback. When they scored, we applauded and cheered for the right team (this time). The game ended, fireworks were shot from the ceiling and we went home, grateful for the wonderful time. Yannick McLeod

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the refill?

Based on Fukuoka’s tradition of kaedama, in which a refill of ramen noodles is served for leftover broth, the refill serves up additional information about life in Japan for Fukuoka’s JET community.

contact us at

the.refill.fukuoka@gmail.com

The contents of this newsletter are strictly for entertainment purposes.

The magazine cannot be held responsible for actions taken as a result of its content. The viewpoints published herein are those of the authors and do not reflect the philosophy or viewpoints of the Fukuoka Board of Education, the JET Programme or CLAIR.