How they live in To-ki-yo

The 20th of July was my last proper day of work, giving me nearly two weeks before I headed off of Malaysia. What to do? Time to see those sites in Tokyo I kept missing. Before that was Shirahama for Pete's final House Party before heading home to NY. Three years of living in a massive house near Shirahama Beach had made it the ideal location, and now that chapter was coming to a close.

The next day I headed to the beach again to go underwater. It had been almost a year since I had dived, and I needed to get back in the water to refresh my memory before starting any advanced courses. Nothing much to see, bad conditions, but I felt a lot more confident about the coming trip.

Onward to Tokyo for some sightseeing with Erin. And to pick up a supply of crazy Malaria pills for the next few months: The Head of the International Clinic was a brilliant octogenarian Russian who entertained me tales of patients gone by, mostly musicians passing through the Hotels, and thought more of his photo of himself and Michael Jackson than he did of the one with Jacques Chirac.

The Tsukiji fish market is massive, serves the Tokyo area, and is best seen in all is chaotic glory just after the sun rise. We chanced our arm on New Years Day, and of course it was closed, so this time we sleep in he cheapest option in Tokyo (A very comfortable "love hotel"{charges by the hour}) and made our bleary-eyed way there.

It wasn't as crazy as I had hoped, but by Japanese standards, it made a good attempt.

I enjoyed wandering through it, seeing the different stages my Maguro goes through before entering my belly.

Then on to the justifiably controversial Yasukini War Shrine.

I'd heard so many terrible tales of how the Shrine blatantly lies about atrocities committed by he Japanese forces in China and elsewhere, I felt I needed to see it for myself before I could really believe it. I was angry. But not near as angry as a Korean may feel. I told the Vice-principal in my main school of my plans the week before. His reply was "Most Japanese don't like that place." Fortunately that seems true. Unfortunately, the Government and Department of Education don't fall into that category.

More from the fish market and Shrine here.

40 years old!?!


According to the Japanese Doctor!

They arrived this morning and have been measuring our bone density. The Doctor said I MUST drink more milk, and I already drink more during lunch than all of the staff combined!

40 years old....

And the English teacher I work with is singing "I'm young, I'm young" while she walks through the staff room 'cause her test came back as 20 years old!

Random Snapshot of September

I realised that I haven't emptied the memory card in my phone for and age.

This album is a collection of the random stuff I found on it that I think gives a nice snapshot into life here.

Enjoy!

(Click Enjoy)

A bloody busy week
Part 1.

One of my sisters said something a few days ago about length of e-mails, so I'm going to try something with this overly long one. I'm going to spit it up.

This last weekend, I did nothing

And it was fabulous.

Although not technically true, I did do some grocery shopping, the rest was much needed. The previous week was bloody busy; which, yes, is how I like it.

It started off on the Wednesday of the previous week, with a night parade. The 15th of June marks the Birthday of Kukai, posthumously called Koba Daishi, the founder of my town, Koyasan, and of Shingon Esoteric Buddhism.

He's not dead, but in a state of deep meditation at the end of Okunoin cemetery, where our Birthday celebrations for him begin. He's a great guy all round, and still has monks bringing him
food each morning as well as changing his clothes every few months.

It may sound gross, but think about it: How often would you really need to change if you spent nearly your entire day in deep meditation?

The parades glowing floats glided through the town with the Conan-esque pushing of the local scouts and primary school students.

I followed them to the Great Gate, Daimon, chatting with different friends taking part, or the other JETs who had driven up to see it.

On the way back, I met an interesting young lady who was researching the commercialisation of the Kukai, and we serendipitously came across a friend's cafe that was open late for an impromptu session of freestyle music. We all stayed there until the small hours, and I listened
apprehensively as first Sonia, the Croatian nun, and then Dan, the private English teacher, were asked about their feelings on the commercialisation subject.

If you read his blog you'll already have a good idea of how awkward that could have been.

The next morning, I was tasked with pushing the large float of Kukai from the night before along with my students. The other students from the Junior Secondary School danced down the street, while my Primary school students did what they did best, made musical noise. The "rain" (drizzle at worst) terrified the monks into a phalanx formation of Umbrellas, and we marched through the town, using pikes to move braches away from Kukai's delicate paper-mache head.

It was another great opportunity for us to grab our festival gear and shout at people, and the pre-schoolers loved the chance to take over the road. And, as per usual in this country, the Oba-chan (Grannies) showed up everyone else taking part.

http://www.bebo.com/PhotoAlbum.jsp?PhotoAlbumId=1189188052

amities

david

"Veni, Vidi, Vomiti"