Reader's Block

I had to stay late at work tonight. Today was marathon day, so students didn’t have classes (and teachers didn’t have to teach). Instead, the students, and a few teachers ran a marathon: 11km for boys and 6km for girls. As far as I know, the run is mandatory and everyone receives a time and ranking for their run. I was considering running with the students, but I haven’t been in very good running form since I’ve been in Japan, so I opted to ride my bike instead – so that I could “supervise.” My supervision generally entailed that I coast through the more rural-ish neighbourhoods of Iwaki under the beautiful, but not to hot sun, while offering the odd “gambatte” (“do your best”) to the students. I haven’t been for a good bike-ride in a while, so it was good to see some of the changing of the seasons. The leaves have started to turn and all of the rice fields have been harvested and only sheared stems stick out, dried and brown from the ground. We’ve also had a lot of rain over the last couple of days, so the rivers and canals that wind their way through the city flowed clear and crisp.

For the balance of the day, I planned most of my lessons for the next two weeks and studied some Japanese out of my newly acquired correspondence course package I received in the mail today (actually, I think I received it last week, but I’ve neglected to check my mailbox). I also did a big overhaul cleaning of my office that was beginning to get a bit cluttered. I was about ready to start packing up, when a student (who has had most of the afternoon off due to the marathon), walked into my office and asked if she could come back in an hour to have her essay looked at. Third year students are working very hard right now because many universities have their entrance exams fairly soon. I wanted to tell her to leave it on my desk and I’d have it back to her tomorrow, but I could sense the urgency in her. I also figured that I should earn some of my pay for today, so I kept myself busy until she returned. We ended up working for almost an hour on a good essay on how she has become interested in the sustainable development of developing nations and what bearing this will have on her future.

When I finished at school, I made my way over to the library. I’ve purchased a few manga (Japanese comic books) since I’ve been here, but these have proven to be quite beyond my reading level. It usually takes me about an hour with a dictionary to read through about one page. Even then, I still have only a vague idea of what I’ve read. Somehow I got it in my head the other day that because my Japanese reading ability is probably worse than a preschooler, I should probably be reading books written for people of this age. So I walked into the library and quickly found the children’s section.

For those of you who have not visited the children’s section of a library for quite some time, I highly recommend it. I can’t believe that I ever gave up picture books. Browsing through the children’s books made me feel like one myself (a child that is). I would pick up a book after appropriately judging it by its cover, and then I would flip through a few pages to see how many words were on each page. Just like when I was 5, if there were too many words, I would put the book back: “I’ll read that one when I’m older,” I thought. Also, because I have barely any concept of how to search for books arranged alphabetically (with the Japanese alphabet) by author (of which I have very little knowledge), my wanderings were dictated more by the geographical arrangements of the bookcases and the aesthetics of the scenery, which was comprised mostly of book covers placed on display at the end of each shelf.

It is my hope that in a foreign culture where I know very little of the language, picture books will be a way for me to expose myself to narratives that actually make some sense.

I ended up with three books. I almost had four, but I had to return one because it turned out that it was part of a reserve section (silly foreigner). I was looking forward to this one because it was about a bear who seemed to like food. Not only do I like bears and food, but it also looked like it was within my reading level. As for the books that I did end up with, one is about a zebra and his Serengeti friends, another about a girl who talks to things, and a Dr. Seuss book about a moose that has been translated into Japanese. I was really excited about the Dr. Seuss and I even showed it to some students that I ran into in the library, but they only looked dumbfounded when I waved it in front of their faces enthusiastically. I’m also worried that even Dr. Seuss is probably beyond my reading ability.

My last stop before coming home was the Supermarket, which is a dangerous place for me when I’m as hungry as I was. At this point, it was well past my dinner time and I hadn’t even started cooking. To make things worse, I took apart my stove for cleaning last night and it was still in my sink soaking. Knowing how hungry I was and making an estimate on how hungry I would be by the time I would actually get to sitting down and eating, I bought accordingly. I ended up with: a package of 7 oysters, a package of 12 gyoza, 2 full sanma fish, a portion of udon noodles, and vegetables for a salad that when prepared, took up about half an ice-cream bucket. Dinner went smoothly and I am stuffed.

Photo Ponderings

I try to make it a point to never delete any of my photos. Unless the photo is incredibly underexposed, overexposed, badly out of focus, or distorted, it will sit in the archives of my computer forever. There have been a few exceptions where I’ve deleted photos from my archives, but only in cases where I’ve taken numerous photos practicing composition and such. One can have only so many terrible images of leaves and flowers. Even these rare purges occur only after the duration of a year or so, and I have not done it for quite some time. I know that even though I may not have attached any special meaning or bond to a particular photo that I believe to be “delete-worthy,” at any point in the future, I may look through my archives and find something that I would deem “interesting.” It has already happened to me on several occasions where I’ve been looking through a batch of photos and found a particular image that I originally thought was shot very poorly, or that just didn’t have any impact on me and had considered deleting, only to be thankful that it still existed for me to rediscover.

The reasoning for this is a phrase that I came across at some point in my life – whether I heard it from someone, or read it, I can’t remember: “All photos appreciate in value over time.” Given enough time, this phrase must hold true. We only need to look at how we cherish images from the distant past: ancient hieroglyphs, cave paintings, tapestries. Recently a shroud with an image supposedly of Jesus imprinted upon it has come under suspicion as someone has been able to recreate its aesthetic by artificial means. Why do we care about such things? In the case of the shroud, it is not even a good representation of a person, let alone Jesus. The figure does not have pupils, or skin tone – only a vague and hazy outline. However, it is because these representations are authentic that we relish them. Forces from the past have somehow come together and assembled themselves into a particular arrangement that can be actively pondered upon for centuries afterward. The observations of the patterns that underlie these images serve as fascinating opportunities for understanding where we come from.

Even though photographs are still only representations of reality – manipulated in terms of light and distortions, these images serve as authentic documents depicting a particular instant of time. I will also mention, manipulations are much easier to achieve these days with digital editing technology (although sometimes maybe not so different from the techniques that were practiced in the darkroom). Still, what we see is a window into a particular time, which gives us much to think about – whether it is observing clothing, or discerning peoples’ expression, identifying with a particular place/space that has some bearing on our present place/space, or even trying to look through image distortions (of say an old blurry picture) to try to discern what it is that we are looking at. The mere fact that the image comes from the past means that something from another time and place has left a direct impression on something that may pass before our very eyes in the present.

Imagine if, 2000 years ago, there were a few photographers with DSLRs. Even “bad” photos from this time would be considered priceless. We wouldn’t look at them and suggest that this one was a bit underexposed, or that this particular person blinked; “it would have been nice if they were all smiling.” One needs only look through a box of old photos belonging to an elder family member – maybe a parent, grand-parent, or even further to a great grand-parent (I’m not sure that that there are many in this generation who would have a family member beyond this who could afford to have themselves photographed so far in the past). I have in my head images of my grandma’s family flower business in England from when she was a child; I also see my dad’s Austin Healey parked somewhere – a relic from another time in his life. These photos were terrible photos where it is very difficult to discern any detail – and I probably remember them all wrong (I can’t even remember if my dad’s car is parked in a driveway or in front of our house – or if he’s even in it), but they’ve still left an impression on me. Even if the people involved in the photos weren’t around to share them with me, seeing them leaves so much to interpretation and imagination.

Entwined with my impression of my parents’ era, growing up in Vancouver, are the photos of Fred Herzog. Herzog was a German who came to Vancouver in the early 50’s and took many photos depicting the lives of ordinary Vancouverites. There are a few aspects that make his photos worthy of attention: his talent for capturing an image, the fact that he was an immigrant, and the time in which he was shooting. Herzog shot with colour film when many people were still shooting black and white. This gives his images a vibrancy that reflects well on the city. The fact that he grew up in Germany, I think, also helped develop his eye for the peculiar – or interesting, in Vancouver daily life. It is these two points that separate his photos from those that sit within the shoeboxes and photo albums of my family, but I wonder how distinct his photos would seem if nothing had changed in the last 50 years – if aesthetically, clothing, buildings, typeface, signage, daily life, etc. had not changed. Would his photos look just like every other documentary photographer working today?

As an amateur photographer, the photos I take are for personal value. I probably spent too much time last night looking at photos that I’ve posted on this blog, hence the impetus for this post. Still, the images that I’ve captured over the last few months have already attributed a great value for me. I can’t say that they will have any relevance for others – especially if they don’t really know me. This is especially true considering that everybody and their dog has a digital camera and is posting regularly on their blog, or through Facebook, or Flickr. Maybe the proliferation of digital imaging and social networking will put a damper on the theory that the value of all photos must increase with time. Or maybe these technical phenomena will only increase the amount of time in which a photo needs to accrue value. I still have faith that in a billion years, if my photos are able to survive that long, will be priceless to any human being with ocular nerves who happens to set eyes upon them.

The actual photos that i meant to write about today don't seem to fit at all with what i've written. I also haven't taken them yet. Maybe I'll get to them tomorrow. I think that putting some Fred Herzog photos would be most fitting here, but you can find them anywhere with a quick google image search. I’d rather share my own. The photo included is of a tree in the sky. I took it while lying down on the grass in front of Aizu Wakamatsu castle. I’ve taken many photos like this over the years, but this is one of the few that I like.

Asuka II, Seafood, and Touch Rugby

A cruise ship came into port in Onahama today. Because one of my schools is a fishing school and works closely with the harbour, a few teachers and students were invited for a tour of the ship. I was lucky enough to receive an invitation.

One of my JTEs was kind enough to pick me up and drive me to the harbour. We wanted to see the ship come in, so we met up at 7:45 this morning. I woke up at 7:00 thinking that 45 minutes should be enough time to get ready. Unfortunately, after last night’s festivities at the bar, showering and putting clothes on took me all of 50 minutes to accomplish. I didn’t even have time for breakfast.

On the drive to Onahama, my JTE surprised me with some Canadian music. He had Metric playing on the radio, which took me back home and helped to ease my throbbing mind. Good for you Metric for getting exposure in Japan.

In preparation for the ship’s arrival, a festival had been organized and thousands of people went to see the ship come in. We saw a few other teachers there and managed to get some delicious festival food – I’d say even more delicious than the usual festival fare; There was lots of fresh seafoods, soba noodles made on the spot from buckwheat, breads, mochi… I could go on.

The ship itself is called Asuka II and it is pretty amazing. Some people have told me that it is the largest ship in Japan, but I wasn’t able to confirm this with a few Google searches. I do know that it has 8 decks. It is a big ship; it may be larger than the aquarium that we went to a couple of weeks ago, and which it had docked beside.

We enjoyed, with a few thousand people, watching the ship get moored and the passengers lined along the rails waiting to disembark for the day. We were of a privileged few that actually got to go for a tour. I don’t think that I saw anyone else who got to visit in the time that we were there.

As for the inside, it was fancy. The place looks more like a fancy hotel than something that floats. It features its own bars, ballroom, casino room, theatre, swimming pools, tennis court, fitness room, etc. My favorite part was going up to the bridge where we had a view of the harbour.

After the tour, we walked through the festival stalls for a bit. Had fish burgers for lunch and my JTE got some crab miso soup, complete with half a crab. I also got to go to the fish market, which was new to me. I ate a delicious freshly shucked – right in front of me, oyster. I think that I will try to ride my bike out there one day and pick up some fresh fish.

Once we finished our tour of the market, we went to a nearby park where several others were having a picnic and playing touch-rugby. We spent the afternoon there and now I am home and exhausted. Tonight should be an early night for me. I’ve started watching Battlestar Galactica and my only complaint is that I didn’t start watching it sooner.

Global Citizens Festival

I've been pretty busy over the last week. I realized that i have my Japanese exam in about a month and a half and i am no where near ready, so i've been trying to put more effort into my studies.

Last weekend, i went to the Global Citizens Festival, which was held in Iwaki this year. It is organized by one of the JET Coordinators in Fukushima and many ALTs participate. It took place on the waterfront in Onahama and featured several performances, activities, a market, and a gathering of NGO's in the area. The coordinator asked me to take a ton of photos, so a ton of photos i took. Here are a few that i thought turned out well.

There was also a woman performing at the festival who became a bit famous in Japan for her Fyakitori dance. I had the pleasure of going to dinner with one of my JTEs and her family. Her 8-year old daughter was a big fan of the song and dance -- although the mother had never heard of it. You can watch a video of the dance here: Fyakitori dance. You can also see a photo of her below, where she is wearing the same clothes as the video. The song -- and i imagine the dance, is quite infectious.

On another note, we were playing a word game in one of my classes the other day. The game consists of writing a list of words where each word begins with the letter that corresponds to the last letter of the last word. Teams race each other to come up with the most words. In one particular round, I asked them to only list adjectives. One of the responses that came from a small girl who sits around middle left in one of my classrooms, came up with the word, "shiteating." The JTE couldn't be in the class at the time, so I did my best to try and explain this word to the class, but i don't think they understood.