White Tigers

While I was in Aizu, we visited the Byakkotai (White Tiger Company) shrine on Limori Hill.

Near the end of the Boshin war (1868), a unit of 305 samurai were assembled into a unit called the Byakkotai – named after the Chinese god of the West. Most of the unit was comprised of young Japanese men around the ages 16-17. In the wake of the Battle of Tonoguchihara, a group of about 20 samurai were separated as they retreated into the hills, which overlooked the Tsurugajo castle.
From their vantage point, they saw flames and smoke engulfing the castle and believing that their lord and families had been killed, they all committed seppuku – a warrior’s ritual suicide, which is also referred to as harakiri. The tragedy of the story is that it was only the outer parts of the castle that were burning – the inside was fulling intact and the people were still alive.

A Taishi, Ghisabro Shinoda recited his favorite lyric by Bun Ten Sho aus So (China). Wasuke Ishida, who was seriously injured, recited the last verse together. And then, Ishida said "Forgive me, I’d like to kill myself first, because I’m injured." He began Harakiri according to the method he'd studied, then his comrade executed him, this final blow being the coup de grâce' (The young samurai studied the art of Harakiri at the school, Nisshinkan, and it was an honour, to execute him.). Following this, Ghisaburo Shinoda cut his own windpipe. Yuji Nagase and Yasoji Hayashi stabbed each other ( Nagase was too injured to do it himself.) Hayayhi asked Komashiro Nomura to execuse him. Then, all the young samurai committed harakiri on Iimori Hill. The exact spot where they did this was on a narrow slope. It is important to note that since there was no one else to aid them in their Harakiri. They all died a slow, agonizing death. (http://www.ne.jp/asahi/minako/watanabe/byakkoeng.htm)

One Byakkotai actually failed in his attempt at seppuku. Iinuma Sadakichi was found by a local peasant and nursed back to health. He eventually moved to Sendai where he lived until his death.

I spoke with a few teachers at school about the Byakkotai memorial. It is quite well known among people in Fukushima-ken as they are taught the story from a very young age. It is important that we recognize the sense of duty and devotion to their lord amongst the young samurai.

There is also a stone placed in the shrine that bears the last line of the lyric recited by the samurai before their deaths:

"No matter how many people wash the stones with their tears, these names will never vanish from the world."

Tsurugajo Castle

Just a short one today because my fingers feel like lead and my brain feels like… let’s just say lead fingers so that I don’t have to think of a new metaphor.

I wanted to post this photo of the Tsurugajo Castle that I took in Aizu (again, please click on the photo for a better version). It was a holiday weekend and there were lots of people around – I was lucky to get a shot with so few people in it. This is also the castle that rests in the background of many of my samurai photos.

The castle itself was begun in 1384 and it was completed and damaged or destroyed several times over the next 500 years by both conflict and earthquakes. As the castle was rebuilt over the years, it took on different forms. At one time, the castle stood 7 stories high before it was destroyed by an earthquake and then rebuilt into the 5 story structure that resembles its present incarnation.

The current castle is considered a restoration and was built in 1965, after the original castle was finally destroyed in 1874 and the castle grounds were declared a national historical site in 1934. Now, the castle is actually a museum that features exhibits from Aizu’s local histories.

Unfortunately, there is not much Englsih in the museum, so I couldn’t get much out of the exhibits. Aizu basically rests within a bowl-like valley, with the castle in the middle.
Aside from being an attractive monument, the view from the top is also worth seeing.

A Day in the Life

Aside from teaching English, part of my job as an Assistant Language Teacher (ALT) is to represent my country and to share its culture. I spend a lot of time in and out of the classroom preparing and implementing lessons that aim to enhance the students’ English abilities and enthusiasms, while also encouraging them to consider different ways of life in countries such as Canada. The students only make up part of my audience however, as teachers are often eager to practice English and learn about Canada. Hence, a significant amount of my work happens outside of the classroom where I speak with students and teachers about where I come from. These conversations will vary from topics about the proper use of the word “same” (have you ever noticed that, despite being an adjective, it is near impossible to use the word ‘same’ without the article “the” preceding it? Try explaining that as a professional native speaker of the English language); the prevalence of Japanese food in Vancouver, why people in Quebec speak French; what a Maritime accent sounds like; controversies in Alberta oil extraction methods; how long it takes to drive from Vancouver to Seattle, Alaska, Calgary, and Toronto; education in Canada; barbecues; and North American pizza (how I miss it). The other side of this is that I am also expected to learn about Japanese culture to take with me when I leave – hence this blog.

Today, one of the main teachers that I work with was away supervising a school tournament, so I wasn’t expected to teach some classes that I usually teach at Keisei koko. I ended up picking up another class in the afternoon, but my morning was pretty much free. Another teacher picked up on this, had heard that I play a little guitar, and invited me to his office for some cultural exchange.

His English is not as good as most of the English teachers that I am more accustomed to speaking with, but it was a bit refreshing to have to strain my Japanese abilities in order to communicate. The man is a Physical Education teacher, but he has also been playing guitar for 20 years. He also plays ukulele and paints in his spare time. In fact, he is in the midst of recreating a portion of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus for the school’s cultural festival.

We ended up spending the first two periods of the day swapping his guitar back and forth between us – me playing my standard, and growing ever-sloppier, “Blackbird,” “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You,” and a bit of “Fade to Black,” him performing some great acoustic renditions of “Yesterday,” “A Day in the Life,” “Let it Be,” and some Japanese tunes. Like many Japanese people, he’s a big fan of the Beatles (in fact, when I was buying some soccer boots the other day, I asked the salesman how he learned English so well – his response: he likes listening to the Beatles). He also played a few songs on his Ukulele while I played accompanying chords on the guitar. One song we played was about a flower – although I’m not sure what kind.

When we parted, he gave me a copy of “Yesterday” to practice at home and I left him a small Canadian pin as a thank-you. The photo above is of the sheet music he gave me. I realize that in the spirit of the song, maybe I should have written this post tomorrow – but we all must make compromises. The other is a photo I uploaded from my phone (for the first time). I think that I took this photo while he was playing “A Day in the Life.”

Weekend in Fukushima/Samurai photos

Most of my computer time today has been eaten up, once again, by uploading photos. I’ve posted some of my favorite ones here on this post, but there are about 170 that I posted on my Facebook profile. Sorry if we’re not friends, but you can search me out if you like.

I spent yesterday and the night before in Fukushima city. Friday was fairly low-key as we had to wake up Saturday morning for soccer practice. I mentioned briefly before that I would be playing in a soccer tournament in Nagano next weekend. JETs from around the country put together teams to play in a tournament in Nagano. Our team is representing Fukushima prefecture. Apparently, last year, our team scored 2 goals over the course of 4 games – while giving up several. This year, the team is looking a bit better and we are hoping to maybe win a game. Either way, it should be a lot of fun.

Yesterday, about a dozen players from our team met up at a field in Fukushima. It turned out that we had arranged to play a game against a Brazilian team based in the city. It had been a while since everyone on our team had played soccer (myself included). I didn’t even have proper soccer boots with me. A friend gave me a pair last week, but they were a bit to big – and on closer inspection, they also turned out to be rugby boots. I had to play in my running shoes, which, although highly inconvenient, managed to get the job done on the field. I bought new boots today – Japanese made, “Mizunos,” which hands down, fit way better than the Umbros I tried on. The salesman showed quite a bit of pride when I picked the Mizunos and made it a point to tell me they were Japanese. This might have been why he gave me a discount membership card – although maybe they give them to everybody.

Everyone had a good run that day, and the Brazillians were a good group of guys – with the exception of one player. This guy would go to the ground clutching his knee/ankle/head/back/wrist after any and all contact with our team. We gave him the foul the first half a dozen or so times, but eventually ignored him. The other team didn’t seem to have a problem with this. In arranging the match, their captain mentioned to our captain that if a certain player showed up, they would most definitely lose. We figure that this was the guy.

We finished the day off with an all-you-can-eat barbecque at a park nearby. The event was put together by a group that go by the name “SickTeamDotCom,” although few people seem to know what this means or what the group is about. Don’t bother searching for them on the Internet because they don’t have a site up yet. This didn’t stop people from buying a ton of T-shirts though. I think that it is generally beginning to be understood that the team has been assembled to facilitate the having of good times in Fukushima. In any event, the team did an amazing job of putting together the barbeque and I’m looking forward to the next one.

Overall, the weekend was a success, although I’m sore as hell today and I managed to get a good gash on my knee from our soccer game. I’ve had puss dribbling down my leg for the last two days, but it’s starting to finally scab over.

These photos are from the Samurai festival in Aizu.

Another Quickie

I just spent a ton of time uploading photos, so i don't have much time to write tonight. I think I'll be heading to Fukushima city tomorrow evening as well, so posts might be a bit sparse for another couple of days. We've got a soccer practice for our tournament in Nagano the following weekend and a barbecue happening throughout the day. Should be good times.

Here's an image from the massive festival dance in downtown Aizu the other night. It wasn't quite as lively as the Iwaki Odori, but it was lit up nicely and was still a lot of fun.

Quick Hello

I returned home today after being in Aizu for the last three days. I managed to see many samurai, ate fish that was so fresh it was still twitching on our table, walked everywhere, got put up by some great friends, met some new ones too, and learned about computers and coding. I’m sure there’s more, but most of it’s a blur right now. I’ll have to take a look at the photos to see where I’ve been.

A funny thing happened while we were arriving back in Iwaki tonight. As the bus made its way to Iwaki station and things started to look familiar, I realized that I couldn’t wait to get home – and that home was a my apartment in Iwaki. I think when I came back from Fukushima last month, my apartment was still just a place that I was staying. Tonight, after popping the locks off my bike at the station and cruising the streets back to my place, parking it under the stairs and walking up to punch in the code that unlocks my door, I got that sense of relief to be in a place where I can be comfortable in a way that only a home can be. It might have been a bit messier than I had hoped; nonetheless, it was good to be home.

The photo is an image of some samurai shoes that we saw at the festival.

My Little Japanese Hairy Cut Place

I know the title of this post doesn't make any sense and it doesn't have to do with anything but the fact that it sounds a bit like the title of a song, "My Little Japanese Cigarette Case." That, and the fact that I got my haircut today. There are several barbershops and salons around my place – each demarcated by the typical barber’s swirly column. This one looked reasonably cheap and relatively busy.

Getting a haircut is always an interesting adventure, whether at home or in Japan. When you walk in, you look like one person, and when you walk out, you look like different version of one’s self. Sometimes haircuts turn out well and sometimes not so good -- the outcome depends quite a bit on the person cutting the hair. It’s always a bit of a crapshoot when getting a haircut. Even when you find that barber who seems to “know” how to cut your hair, something will happen down the road where maybe his taste begins to change, or he has a bad day, or maybe he gets bored with helping the same people. Eventually, something doesn’t go quite right and the time comes to move on to a new barber. Of course, as Seinfeld has taught us, we cannot go to another barber within the same shop. In order to avoid any bad hair vibes, the new barber needs to be as far away from the predecessor as possible.

When I first arrive, I believe that any style of cut will be an improvement on my shaggy and usually long-overdue hair. I always watch intently as the barber begins to work. They usually start with the back and sides. After about a minute or so, I’ll think to myself, “I hope I don’t end up looking like this,” or “I hope he’s not almost done,” or “I think he’s missing some, I hope he gets that part.” I try to preoccupy myself by looking at all of the barberial equipment on the counter in front of me, which usually rests inside a vat of that delicious looking, blue-freezie coloured antiseptic liquid. Gradually, the work takes shape, and the hair looks good. Then comes the tension of, “why doesn’t he stop cutting?” “He’s going to ruin it.” “It looks fine the way it is!”

Getting my first haircut in Japan is like saying goodbye to a piece of Canada in me. I no longer have a Canadian haircut; I have a Japanese haircut. When I return to Canada, I will say, “look at my Japanese haircut.”

In any event, the cut turned out good and it was a pretty typical haircut experience with the addition of exceptional service and care. Not knowing the language very well, asking for anything in Japan is always awkward for me. I think it was fairly obvious that I came to the shop for a haircut. When he asked how I wanted it cut, I told him I knew very little Japanese and that “watashi no sensei desu” -- (I am a teacher). This seemed to be all he needed because when he finished, I looked somewhat like a teacher. I also felt good knowing that I didn’t need to start looking for a new place to get my hair cut.

Tomorrow I will be catching a bus to Aizu to see a couple of festivals and visit some friends. Maybe I’ll get to do some sight seeing as well. I’ve enjoyed writing the last few posts, but I might not get to post much for the next few days – or if I do, they might be a bit brief.

Iwaki Music

I managed to finish half of what I wanted to accomplish today. I did a major overhaul of my apartment to get everything cleaned up. I bought a few dishes, guitar strings, bus tickets for next week’s trip to Aizu, and acquired a library card. I spent most of my day with a buddy who speaks very good Japanese, so it made buying bus tickets and getting a library card quite easy. I was secretly hoping that I would have to go to the bus station on my own to challenge my Japanese abilities, but at least now I know that I have the right tickets and when to catch my bus.

We went to a guitar shop to buy a case for a guitar that he recently bought. I noticed quite a while ago that my buddy had long fingernails on his right hand. Several years ago, I would have figured that this guy was either into drugs or was a bit dandy. Since I started playing guitar, I’ve learned that people with long nails on their right hand are usually classical guitar players. I’ve never met someone my age who’s been into classical guitar seriously enough to grow their fingers long, file them into proper plucking form, and use glossy nail hardener to keep them from chipping. I don’t think he uses the hardener anymore because he is a bit out of practice, but he was still able to rip up a few pieces in the store. I wish I could play like that.

In the store we also met a couple of young guys who were dressed like musicians. The one guy looked like he was about eighteen, wore a blazer over an Oasis t-shirt and had his hair down over his eyes. He came over and started talking to us, which when he realized how terrible my Japanese was, he mostly talked with my friend. He told us to come to his show that he was opening tonight at a club called the Sonic. He even said that he’d put us on the guest list.

I had heard of the Sonic as a place for live music and had ridden by it on my bike a couple weeks before. It looked dark and seedy – a place for my kind of music. The walls were painted black and had event posters tacked all over. Weak fluorescent lights and a few hanging light fixtures definitely added to the seedy atmosphere. The walls and floors were scuffed up as if, over the years, a lot of musical equipment had banged in and out of the place. People are still allowed to smoke inside bars and restaurants in Japan, and there was a constant haze that hung up around the lights. I noticed we turned a few heads being the only two gaijin in the building.

We got our tickets and entered a sort of pre-show room, where bands hawk their wares. T-shirts hung on wire stands; CDs and posters strewn about tables; profanity scribed across all of the walls. The place smelled more like rock and roll the deeper we went.

The next door took us into the show room. The place was tiny, but it was lit up for a rock show and the music was loud. There were only about 40-50 people in the room, but because it was so small, it felt crowded. The guy we met at the music shop was playing, and he ripped it up pretty good. He played a real dark and heavy sort of Oasis style of music. He had told us that he was really into British rock. We arrived midway through a song in the middle of their set and they were playing a heavy grungy song. I think both our eyes went a little wide at first and we each had a shit-eaters grin on our faces throughout. The front man probably weighed about 90 lbs, but he was throwing his body around and wailing away on the microphone while he thrashed his guitar, building to a climactic finish, where afterwards, the crowd… clapped politely. My friend called it the kind of applause that you would see at a golf tournament, and it was pretty standard for each song that all the bands played – very odd and out of place compared to what we were used to at a rock show. During the songs, some of the crowd would get right into the music – I almost had to dodge a few roundhouse kicks from the front. The screamo singer would especially get the crowd going as he’d walk into the audience. But between songs, he was the nicest gentlemen while he announced their next shows – very soft spoken and polite.

We watched three bands before leaving for another engagement. All three bands were great. The second band was a screamo band and the third played sort of a Franz Ferdinand, almost Kings of Leon style. I got to see big Marshal stacks, Gibsons, an ESP, and a Telecaster with some killer guitar players behind them.

Now, sitting at home, with my ears ringing, writing this blog, picking photos to use in this post, I miss the Wail. Check out their show if you’re in Vancouver: http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/event.php?eid=127594807644&ref=ts

I really wish I had my Nikon with me – and maybe a new wide angle lens of some sort, but my cybershot managed to get a few decent shots.

The Art of the Compliment

This is a lesson I did with my students at Iwaki High school last week. It’s sort of based on a project that I did with my classes during my practicum back home. The lesson is based on practicing compliments, developing vocabulary, and then writing a compliment to the principal, which I give to him at the end of the week. At this school, I have 8 classes of 40 students, which equals 320 compliments. This lesson works particularly well in my situation because our principal used to be an English teacher. If this doesn’t get me in good with the staff at the school, I don’t know what will. This lesson was designed for a first-year secondary class. Feel free to use as much or as little of it as you like.

I begin the class by saying “good morning” and having the students respond back. I tell them “your pronunciation is very good.” Then I tell them that they are “listening very well.” Then I tell one student that he/she has very nice hair today – and I go on to compliment pens or book bags. It’s usually pretty awkward for the student being complimented and is sometimes quite funny for the class. I then write the word “compliment” on the board and have students try to guess what it means.

Once we figure out the definition, we practice some compliment dialogue provided in our textbook. We use Communication I textbooks. After going through this a few times, I write 4 compliment formulas on the board:

-You have [a] (adjective) + (noun) . (singular)
-You have (adjective) + (noun)[s] . (plural)
-You are a (adjective) + (noun) .
-You (verb) + very well.

I then have the students practice these phrases by writing a compliment with each formula about their partner. We share a few afterwards, which is sometimes funny. I find that the students that really shine during this activity are the boys who are partnered up with a girl: “you have a beautiful smile – although this is usually the exception and not the rule. Most students make use of the example adjectives that I use on the board, which are usually, “nice,” “great,” and “beautiful.” We usually end up with a class that responds with “you have a nice pen,” or “you are a nice person.”

In order to build stronger compliments and to develop some vocabulary, I pass around Japanese-English dictionaries and ask the students to think of great adjectives in Japanese and then to translate them into English. I know what you’re thinking, give a kid a dictionary and you’re just asking for trouble. I remember at that age whenever a dictionary came into our hands, we would look up every dirty word imaginable – and then we would try to find more. Many of these students were no different – and It was awesome.

I managed to get 20 dictionaries from the English office and our library, so the students worked in pairs. I think most schools should have at least a couple of these books in the library, but the groups may need to be larger if only a small number can be found.

Afterwards, I go around the class and write down as many new adjectives as possible.

Now that we have a ton of new adjectives and a bunch of dictionaries at hand, I pass around a slip of paper to the students. I explain that we will write a compliment to the principal and that at the end of the week I will deliver a box of 320 compliments to his office. I ended up taking to volunteers with me on the day to offer it to him in English. I think that he was quite pleased and very impressed. We only had a few minutes with him, but he read about a dozen of them and then said that he had to stop because he would start to cry.

Here is a list of my favorite compliments in the order that I received them – mistakes and all. The beginning of each phrase began, “Principal Yamanouchi…”

you have a good camera
you are the greatest teacher in the cosmos
is a man amongst men
has a cute pencase
you have a lovely face
you have beautiful eyes
you have a parfect body
has very nice students
you are a genius
is a reliable person
you have a great brain
you have a muscular body
you are a elegant gentleman
you have very great neckties
you are a cool face
you are a very reliable teacher
you are a sexy man!
your words is great!
you have elegant glasses
you are a nice smile
you have a large mind
you a clean person
you are a hairy clab
you say “good morning” very well
you have a great car
thanks you for working for our high school very hard
you sing songs very beautiful
you are very tender
you have a very useful bag
you have a great high school
you have wonderful teachers
you have an unshakeable belief, I feel.
you are a dignified man
you have a strong sense of responsibility
you have good leadership ability
you are a attractive person
you are a sincere person
you are a fantastic teacher
you are gentle
you are very ingenius
you are a necessary person
you nave a gallant face
you are very fresh
I have never seen a keen teacher such you
you guide us to the right path
you have a attractive personality
you are a noble
you are a playful person
you are a very mild man
you have a tough heart
you have a brave beard
you are beautiful like mathematics
you get the respect of the students
you have splendid glasses
you are very youthful
you are very marvelous
you are a brilliant person
you are kind to students always
you are very dandy
you are very gentlemanly
you are a very rich person
you are a well-informed person
you have nice subordinates
you have a bright smile
you are a erotic man
you are polite. I look up to you
you have a sexy girlfriend
you are a very handsome man
you are an invincible
you make speech eruditely
you are a wild person

Cooking for One

I need to write this post to make sure that my mom knows I'm eating well. I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the kitchen since I’ve arrived in Japan. My most recent dishes have been a beef curry and a poached fish of some sort.

The curry was quite easy to make. I used this website here for directions: curry directions. In a nutshell, cook meat in a pan and then add chopped vegetables. I used potato, carrot, green beans, onion and green peppers. After cooking the vegetables for about 5-10 minutes, add enough water to cover. Cook for 30-40 minutes. Finally, add a block or two of “roux,” which is the Japanese curry flavouring. Let this cook for about 10 minutes, or until desired consistency, and it is ready to eat. Make sure to have some rice ready at this point.

Although the curry tasted great, it was not nearly spicy enough. Next time I will have to find some roux with more heat. For a spicy meal, check out Baba's. I of course cooked way too much curry and ended up freezing some. For about a thousand yen, I ended up with about 5 good-sized portions.

I’m not sure what kind of fish I bought, but it was some kind of flat fish. It was also my first time cleaning and gutting a fish, which I think I did a good job of considering I made it up as I went – and I have yet to buy a good knife. The only knives I have at the moment are slightly larger than a paring knife. I also need a toilet brush – although that’s for something completely unrelated.

My first try at poaching a fish went surprisingly well. I spent some time walking the isles of the supermarket looking for a cheap, but decent sized fish because I figured I would probably ruin it in some unforeseeable manner. To poach the fish, I boiled enough water to completely submerge the fish in. Turn off the heat and wait for the water to stop bubbling. Then gently lay the fish into the water and cover for… well this is the difficult part… I let mine cook for about 6 minutes and it might have been a touch too long. Afterwards, gently lift the fish out of the water onto a plate. Lay chopped green onions and ginger over top of the fish and then drizzle some oil and soy sauce over it. I spooned the oil and soy sauce from the plate over the fish a few times to make sure that it was covered.

I think this is the way my mom and my popo prepare fish. I believe it’s a Chinese style of preparation. Anyway, it’s always been one of my favorites. I remember my popo always buying a massive rock cod and cooking it at one of the many feasts that we had at her place. The first time I ate it, my mouth and throat were so full of small fish bones that I had to rinse it out with water. I can still remember seeing the hair-like fish bones stuck to the side of the sink. As we grew up, eating fish became an event where we would fight over who got to eat the cheeks (this is where the best meat is). I would also fish out the eyeballs to gross everybody out. Eventually though, the fish eyes started tasting quite delicious. Now, I even suck the meat off of the fins.

Last night I got to eat both cheeks and both eyeballs all to myself. The fish was also a bit smaller than I had originally thought. At the same time, I wouldn’t have minded having someone to share it with.

The Dutchman

I met a Dutchman yesterday. There was a festival happening at a shrine near my school and I rode home to pick up my camera when I saw an odd looking Caucasian man waiting at a light opposite myself. I thought he was on his way to a costume party or a play because his clothing was out of place by both Western and Japanese standards. He wore a black wide-brimmed hat, black corduroy vest and pants, and a billowy white shirt underneath. Over his shoulder was a duffle bag comprised of several handkerchiefs tied to a stick and a knarled wooden stick swayed in his hand beside him.

As I rode past, I gave a brief “hello” and he turned around seemingly shocked at hearing a word of English. I took this as a welcome to chat so I turned around and asked him where he was from. As it turned out, he was a carpenter in the midst of a 3 year journey around the world. His English was quite broken, but I think he said that it was a tradition for his people (couldn’t find much in terms of Dutch traditions – so maybe it’s a family tradition? maybe I’m ignorant?) to travel with nothing but handkerchief luggage and a stick.




He was only planning on being in Iwaki for one night and then he would be off to Tokyo. I think he was planning to stay in Japan for 3 weeks before going to Germany where I think he has family. Otherwise, he has no home, no phone, just a camera, a stick, and some sleeping gear. The only languages that he speaks are Dutch, German, and a bit of English. Somehow he ended up in Iwaki for a day.

Seeing as how he was in Iwaki, I invited him to this shrine festival that I was on my way to, which we walked to together.

After speaking with a Philipino karage vendor who was named after Mother Teresa, I learned a bit about the significance of the festival. I’m not too sure of the time-frame, but about 500 years ago (maybe more, maybe less), there was a great war between rival samurai tribes in this region. A legendary warrior from one of these tribes became very ill and traveled to the place where the shrine was built to recover. It was here that he planted several ginger plants and was said to have made a miraculous recovery. Each year after, this festival of the ginger root has been held in celebration.

It was not a large festival, but they did have plenty of food and costumed samurai giving mounted demonstrations. It was also an opportunity for me to visit this shrine that I ride past almost every day, but have yet to visit. The highlight of the day was when mounted samurai would gallop down the road at a good speed and the rider would fire an arrow with his bow at a target. They also did several ride-bys where they would launch ginger roots into the crowd – although I think I was one of the only people who didn’t get one.

I think that one of the moments of the day was when another Japanese teacher from my school showed up at the festival. It turned out that he spoke a bit of German and the two of them conversed in broken German for a few minutes. In between phrases, they would translate their broken German into broken English for me and I’m pretty sure that none of us knew what anyone was really trying to say.