Christmas tomfoolery Chez Morgan and Kernich

On Christmas Eve Eve, Thom and Sally had a small gathering of alcoholics at their house for the much vaunted Power Hour - i.e. a shot of beer every minute for an hour, beginning and ending with a shot tequila. Music maestro Kari Panaccione even created a special CD for this momentous event, with one minute slices of 60 karaoke classics to keep us going.

Actually, as it turned out, it was pretty easy as we only used 20ml shots. But still, it was pretty satisfying to have done it. Maybe it lulled us into a false sense of security about our alchohol consumption abilities though, because then we all proceeded to get completely wasted

My memory of the night is a little dim, but I remember having an awesome time playing on the Wii, Thom biting me and then passing out, and Anna being "poorly" in the bathroom for the last hour or so of the night. I also vaguely remember us doing a "speak nothing but Japanese for 3 minutes" challenge to help the native Japanese speakers who were there - this consisted of us awkwardly saying "um.....do you want to drink this? No, I don't want to drink that. I want to eat those" in broken Japanese until the timer finally went off.

Christmas decorations in Nagoya...

Some of the Christmas lights at the Takashimaya building

Masumi's leaving do..

My last day of work before the Christmas holidays was also the last day of work EVER for one of the staff at that school, Masumi who is in charge of all the kids stuff (and has been a massive help to me since I've been working there, as well as being very friendly and all that). So after work there was a little party to bid her farewell.

There is some serious efficiency when it comes to these parties - we all set off to the supermarket and everyone quickly dashed round getting all the ingredients we needed for food. And we're not talking party snacks here - we're talking proper dishes, mainly nabe which is like a casserole and some oden which is....also like casserole, but with some different stuff. As I couldn't read any of the packets or readily identify any of the food, I was in charge of looking after one of my students who came along with his Mum. He's only 2, so we had a great time wandering round the supermarket, occasionally stopping to poke stuff and stare at the delicious sweeties on theconfectionary aisle. Then whenever he sat down he would pat the seat next to him and say "Chris....sit" - very sweet. I watched him like a hawk the whole time , but unfortunately I let my guard down for one second when we were getting the groceries out of the car in the rain, and he fell into a gutter about 40cms deep and got soaked up to his waist. Whoops! He was fine though.

Merry Clistmas*

Christmas is fast approaching the land of the rising sun, and Nagoya is definitely entering into the spirit of it. Well kind of - because Japan isn't a Christian country, the religious aspect of Christmas is totally absent in from all the assembled regalia in shops and such. So all the pretty lights are stars and Santa Claus (never Father Christmas) is flippin' everywhere, but there's no angels, or any mention of mangers and whatnot. Now, I'm not a religious man, but it does feel a little sterile to not have just a little tiny baby Jesus somewhere in decorations - in fact, I walked past what I thought was a nativity scene the other day; as I got closer, it turned out to be Santa Claus dancing round a Christmas tree. But then that's all Christmas is in Japan so it's not a bad thing - even though it does partially represent the commercialised hinterland always alluded to by tabloid rags like the Daily Mail back in England. Everything's very pretty, and feeling very festive - come on some snow!

Along with the pretty decorations, Christmas also brings with it a more sinister component - Muzak. In England, virtually every shop - Clinton's Cards probably being the worst offender - has some whiny facsimile of a Christmas carol playing in the background over the festive season. By and large though, they're fairly inoffensive. Contrast that with Japan, where recently I have been subjected to some ear-bumming travesties or music. Today in the supermarket, there was some kind of dance remix of Jingle Bells which included several "orchestra HITS!" which you used to get on old Yamaha keyboards. After that, there was Oh Come All Yea Faithful, but as a full on rock guitar solo, at high speed. It seems that in most shops, if it's not rock guitar, it's a wrong guitar.

By far the strangest was in the library though - I ran in just before closing time and the "ending theme" was playing which is actually Auld Lang Syne. Most places in Japan play this to let people know they're closing, although usually they don't realise it's a new year's song in England. Anyway, either this was some alternative arrangement or someone had put the CD in a microwave, because it contained the strangest ululations I've ever heard - it was like the sound effects you might hear before you black out. If possible, I'm going to try and record it sometime, because something like that should really be shared with the world.

*Yes, yes, cheap I know.

The Crying Game....

This week, I've taught a couple of model lessons for some new students. This can be a fraught process, because usually the younger the kids are, the longer it takes for them to get used to the tall, shouty foreign who's trying to bedazzle them with flashcards and tuneless songs. On Tuesday, it was three year olds and with five in the class, I knew there'd be at least ONE cryer. Generally, it seems the best tactic when this happens is to not pay too much attention to it and play some awesome games so they get bored with their sobbing and come and join in. (Only if they're crying for no reason of course. If they've trapped their head in a table, it's probably a good idea to step in). In the past, the Mum's have employed some of their Japanese ninja heritage (probably) by coming in the class with their sobbing kin, and they g-r-a-d-u-a-l-l-y moving closer to the door, and eventually slipping out all stealthy.

The pattern when meeting these new kids is generally the same - their first reaction is to just silently gape. You can see the inner cogs working: "shall I cry, or shall I try wander over and see if I get eaten?". On Tuesday, four decided on on the latter, but one plumped resolutely for the former. She clung to her Mum like a newborn koala, and although she briefly joined in with a craft activity (making snakes - rock!), she sooned return to her default mode of wailing and getting snotty. I don't know if she was scared or nervous or what, but its pretty heart rending to have a little mite sobbing through your whole lesson. The others were fantastic though so that's some consolation!

Today I had two even younger kids - both about 2, and they seemed absolutely TINY. Not just in size, but in presence - both of them seemed really frail and delicate. Again, there was a brief moment of teetering on the edge of crying or laughing, but thankfully they wandered over and we played catch with a ball. Now, I'm all for kids enjoying themselve, but I have never heard such loud squeals of joy when I threw the ball to them - it was earpiercing! I actually winced a couple of times, but it was nice to see them happy. The lesson was actually pretty crazy because the kids rooms are so full of stimuli the students just wander around trying stuff out rather than pay attention. But I was sweating by the end, and the mums were exhausted, and that's what counts.

Soba and pretty leaves....

On my days off last week, I went to Anna's parents's house in Takenami - way way in the Japanese countryside. To put it into context - so far every single Japanese person I've told about my trip didn't have a clue where it was. Anna had been raving about relaxing under her kotatsu which - if you've never heard of one - is a low square table with a blanket attached to it that reaches the floor, and a heater underneath. So you can snuggle under the blanket all nice and snug while the wintery weather rages outside. Or - if you're a gangly foreinger like me - you can sort of get your shins under, and then give up and sit on the sofa with a blanket.

Anyway, whilst in Takenami we decided to have a go at making soba noodles at a nearby restaurant which does a little class in it. There's only three ingredients - none of which I could identify and all of which look like flour - plus some water. The process was marginally complicated by the instructor speaking only in Japanese, including when she came round to correct me (despite being told I don't speak it). Actually, this happens alot - the traditional view of the English man abroad is shouting "WHERE-IS-THE-TOILET?!?!" at uncomprehending Turkish waiter, and I think the corresponding view over here is for the Japanese man to patiently explain in fluent Japanese what he wants, rephrasing it over and over without any kind of gestures, simplification or a single word of English. Still, we managed to sort the whole process out, and then eat the soba noodles that we made afterwards. They were pretty tasty, although I didn't realise you actually ate them cold. Rolling with the punches when it comes to food is one of the first skills you develop in Japan though, so I wasn't too fussed.



In the evening, we went to view a koryo or leaf colour changing site (or こりょ now I've managed to work out how to type in Japanese on this computer :) ). Autumn and Winter have kind of mixed together this year here, but all the leaves are now turning an amazing shade of red. I have to admit I was initially skeptical about this - after all, we have Autumn in England too right? It's when all the trains stop running (ooh, political satire). But actually it looked really impressive - there's a particular type of leaf called momiji （もみじ　he he he ) which looks very cool when they've changed colour. Although it was night time, the place had been set up with all spotlights and stuff, and the place was packed with people, most of whom were equipped with a vast array of photographic equipment. I had to make do with a couple of shots from my little camera.

You can always get cuter....

I think that no matter how long you spend in Japan, you never get fully inured to the cuteness that purveys the country so intensely. I've been here for 7 months, and teach the little tinkers everyday including at the moment when they're all wearing little Halloween costumes. But still today, I was bowled over with cuteness. Going through the subway barried were about 30 little kids, probably about 5 years old, all wearing matching school uniforms and in pairs, holding hands. As they went past the guys on the barrier collecting tickets, they said in unison "arigato gozaimashita!" in incredibly perky little voices. Then, just when it seemed the cuteness was reaching a peak, two of them gave little salutes to the barrier guys as they said thank you! KAWAIIII!!!