Monday, October 30, 2006

More Things Keep Happening

Friday 20th - Sunday 22nd October

As promised, here's last weekend's adventures. It's super-long, but at least there're pictures to break up the brain-numbing waffle elsewhere...

Tokyo Bound



Today, I was missing lessons to head to Tokyo for a two-day trip. I caught the 7:46 Nozomi Shinkansen from Kyoto station to arrive at Shinagawa station in Eastern Tokyo just after 10am. On the way, I did a little bit of Japanese practice, but as my folder was missing after lessons the previous day, I had to make do with SOAS materials. While I slept for most of the journey, I did get to see the vast silohuette
of Mt. Fuji from my window, surrounded by fog, looking far larger than I remembered it being.

Foundation Meeting

I travelled to Roppongi to the 33rd floor of the Ark Mori building to visit the Heiwa Nakajima Foundation, who were providing my scholarship for my study in Japan. My ears popped in the lift and the view from their window was filled with fog, but the nearby Tokyo Tower was in plain sight. Another scholarship student (a girl from Vietnam studying in Tokyo) was also present, and we sat at the table at the end of the office as I was presented with a folder filled with facts and information, as well as a booklet on the Foundation's founder and a dictionary for correct kanji use.

The office then gathered together (about eight employees total) for a sushi bento lunch which I happily munched through, but, try as hard as I might, I really couldn't finish it all. While we spoke in Japanese, they were all very attuned to keeping the questions as easy to answer as possible, and were very interested in my thoughts on Japan, my study and interests. I also brought along a few photos from Somerset and East Anglia, which helped no end as a focal discussion point and a visual aid for talking about my family and where I live. I had my photo taken a few times, and they also showed me photos of Tanaka-sensei visiting the office, and a Heiwa Nakajima representative visiting other members of the SOAS Japanese faculty in London. They were all very friendly and helpful (even offering to help track down my childhood friend Kitaro) and were extremely appreciative of my British prezzies of Duchy Original choccie biccies and a National Trust calendar. I had been a little nervous about meeting them and hoping I'd live up to their expectations, but they were all supportive and enthusiastic, leaving me feeling suitably buoyant.


Pete's 21st Birthday Party


Last time I had seen Pete, we were shaking hands at Green Park London Underground saying, "Next time we meet, we'll be in Japan". Jump forward a month or so later, and we're outside Waseda Underground meeting again. Bizarre, but cool. I get a brief tour of one of Waseda's campuses, and then I to visit Pete's space prison quarters which aren't quite as oppresive as I had envisaged, but then I guess I didn't encounter any of the 'wardens' (or forced to fight to death on a spiky turntable platform a la Flash Gordon). We meet with Hanako for coffee (hot chocolate for me, thank you) and soon we're ready to go out. Now that Pete's a man of 21 years, my present is a Nishijin textiles tie; perfect for job interviews for management positions in Japanese zaibatsu.

We all head out for an all you can drink session in Shinjuku and I'm reunited with most of the SOAS Waseda alumni, plus John Dykes, Esq. currently mixing it up in Tokyo Gaidai. I also meet a couple of Edinburgh University Waseda posse, and we exchange information about the Edinburgh University Doshisha students I've come to know - it's a small world after all. We all squeeze into three tables of space, but most of the screaming, chanting and drinking games come from the central table, buoyed on by the organisers, two mad Japanese girls. I decide to spend my time drifting from table to table, before settling down with Dykes and Rory Chu, topping up each other's beers while catching up, telling tales and making plans for the year ahead. When the evening comes to an end, I am muchly sloshed, but lucid. While the majority our heading karaoke-wards, I decide that if I'm going to make it to the hostel I have booked into in time, I should make tracks. I bid the partygoers adieu and take the train across town to Minowa.

Night at the Hostel

The train journey to the hostel is about 25 minutes, during which I get a little emotional, having just said goodybe en masse to many SOAS amigos and then to receive an elated post-birthday email on my mobile phone from Hamish. It could be a side-effect from all the alcohol though, another one of which appears to be increased Japanese speaking ability. I successfully asked the man at the train platform where the correct exit for the hostel was and once I arrived I had a conversation for over half-an-hour with the lady at reception. We talked about universities, binge drinking culture, the North Korea crisis and Japanese history - in particular, she said I should walk down the block to look at the whore-houses...she was emphasising how this area had been the the Edo pleasure quarters, the floating world, and how a map of Tokyo with the circle line and the Chou line drawn through it resembled the Yin-Yang symbol, with the aristocratic area and the pink district in direct contrast of each other. Not sure I quite bought it, but interesting nonetheless. It brought back a lot of memories sleeping hostel style at the Tokyo International Hostel from my pre-university trips. Chris had recommended the place to me, and at 2000 yen a night in a 10-backpacker dorm, it weren't bad at all. Comfy beds, clean washing facilities, good chummy atmosphere. Of course, noise from fellow travellers late night and early morning, but those are the breaks. While my Japanese certainly impressed the members of staff (the morning receptionist couldn't believe I had written the Japanese for mobile phone myself - as even native speakers forget how to), I kept schtum about my credentials amongst the other guests...didn't want to create a scene.

Ueno Park

With the morning free, and having to change trains there anyway, I decided to take a stroll around Ueno Park. I had been there before, but mainly just to visit the Tokyo National Museum (one of many museums that are situated there), so I took the opportunity to stroll around the grounds. I visited the statue of Saigo Takamori, samurai and dog-handler; Kiyomizu-Kannon-do, a temple modelled on Kiyomizu-dera which I had visited the previous weekend; the Gojo fox shrine, atmospherically filled with ominous cawing crows; a big pond with paddle boats...I took some pics, but haven't uploaded them yet as they're not very good or interesting. Also took a quick trip to the big toy shop near the station, but there was little that took my fancy.

Meeting Ian


I met Ian for Lunch in Mejiro where we had a tasty pasta set lunch and talked at length about Japan and the pros and cons of the Japanese experience. It seemed that even now my fresh observations of food, finance and frivolity here clicked with Ian instantly, and he gave me lots of little pieces of advice for surviving life in Japan. It was a very enjoyable meeting and he was over the moon with my gift of Gentelemen's Relish. Hopefully, he'll be able to come to Kyoto at some point, but if not, I will return to Tokyo in a few months time.

Mikael's in Town

While in Tokyo, I got a message that Mikael was in Kyoto this weekend for the big festivals. Once I had got off the Shinkansen, we endeavoured to meet up but meeting with Baptiste was a mission unto itself, involving much running around, exasperation and telecommunication - if it wasn't for the fact my phone died, it would have been just like 24. After 30 minutes, we finally met up and kept the anger to a minimum for the sake of everyone. Tal and her Gaidai chums were having all you can eat pizza at Shakey's (yes, Shakey's) in Shijo, but by the time we got there, they'd already sodded off. But that didn't stop myself, Baptiste, Mikael and his Nagoya buddy fitting in half-an-hour of pizza and assorted junk for ourselves. We then decided to decamp to a karaoke box for an hour of soul-filled singing and called it a night.

Jidai Matsuri

The Jidai Matsuri is one of Kyoto's big three...and we missed it. Baptiste and I miscalculated when the festival was going to end, and turned up to find everyone leaving and packing up. Bum. However, we still managed to savour a bit of post-festival atmosphere, and visited the Heian Jingu shrine where it climaxes (there was still a bit of pomp and circumstance going on behind closed doors). Ah well, there're two other big Kyoto festivals in the summer we'll make certain not to miss. Besides, our day of festivity had only just begun.

Riverside Music

While we waited to meet with friends to head to Kurama (see below), we decided to have some drinks and snacks in Sanjo by the Kamo river, a popular meeting place and general hanging out area. A mini-concert was underway, with a big Japanese flag with 'Under the Bridge 55' written on it waving above the amps. The acts were just a bunch of students a mix of open-air music spanning various musical genres. Most interesting was a screeching punk act who represented the first signs of student political activity I had witnessed in Japan. Through the mad synth, kicking microphone stands, river running and megaphone shouting, their message was 'Sayonara Americans, Konnichiwa Japanese!' and their lyrics included 'Showa! America! Showa! America!' - alluding to the feeling that Japan today was designed by the Americans for American purposes (which is kinda sorta true to an extent). It was too dark to get any footage of them on my phone, so instead, here's the act before them, a little male singer, strumming away to his own version of The Monkees' Daydream Believer - with a, shall we say, unique singing voice:



Kurama-no-Hi Matsuri


My final flutter of fun was a trip into Kurama, deep within the mountains of northern Kyoto, for the annual festival of fire. The trains were packed heading there, so much so, we walked to the next station along to avoid the queues at the main change point. We thought we weren't going to see anything when we got there (Tal had already given up, and Mikael, who was already there, was not sure exactly what was going on). Hundreds had descended upon the little town to visit the shrine where the festival climaxes, but we decided to head in the opposite direction, which turned out to be a good idea. Every house had a little fire outside, and the scent of smoke filled the air - it was like a premature Guy Fawkes night.

Then from the end of the road, a procession of torch-bearers appeared, chanting as they walked up the hill towards the temple. We got a good vantage point outside a smaller temple where they were luckily to make a brief stop before heading on. Behind the initial procession, loinclothed men carried massive burning torches across their backs, as others urged them on and kept the flames alive. They were followed up by further torch-bearers and taiko-drumming to keep them going. Once they got to the temple next to our position, they raised the massive torches and aligned them beside each other. After a few minutes, they again rested them on their backs and continued the slow climb onwards. It was a magical and satsifying experience, complete with atmosphere and wonder. Having had our fill of flame, we walked to the next station along. Its a beautiful area at night, looking deep into the surrounding forests and marvelling at the stars above. As there's only one train track, the ride back was absolutely packed, but everyone was so happy to have seen the festival that it was all good fun. Parn, Baptiste, Mikael and myself then headed to Imadegawa for a late-night Mos Burger and so another action-packed weekend came to a close...

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Things Keep Happening

Things do indeed. And in order to keep up with my adventures, I'm going to have to do a big old splurge of recent events from the past couple of weeks. I'll do last weekend in the coming week and the weekend before that now...if that makes any sense.

Friday 13th October - Sunday 15th October

  • Karaoke Marathon - after having spent all afternoon with my newly installed internet, I was invited to join various Mukaijima residents (studying at Doshisha and beyond) for a spot of karaoke at the local Shidax centre, just a brief walk from halls. Upon entry, the faux-grandeur was overwhelming, with 'gold', 'marble' and a winding staircase in the lobby. We booked a room with the decor of a Spanish restaurant and so began the singing session. Bowie, Beastie Boys, Blur and Beck were my artists of choice (though I did dabble in a bit of Polysics and YMO for Nihongo's sake), but Tarvi and Ritso (the Finnish Jay and Silent Bob in appearance, but anything but in reality) kept things varied with spirited anime themes and angry rock anthems respectively. We soon turned off the score system that would cause cartoon cracks to appear on the screen for woeful renditions (it seems it wanted Anarchy in the UK to be sung by a Celine Dion-alike), and let rip. As the tunes went on and the 'all you can drink' booze flowed, members of our party called it a night, until it was just me, Tarvi and Ritso. At 4.45am. Having started at 9.45pm. Yes, I made up for my lack of recent karaoke by doing it for seven hours straight. Good stuff.

  • Thai Dinner - Having finished watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith as part of Mukaijima Gakusei Centre 'Movie Night', we went for a big Thai meal at the restaurant handily located just next to Doshisha's Imadegawa campus, as Parn's mum was in town. As Thai food barely extended beyond fishcakes and red/green curry, it was an eye-opening and eye-watering experience. Some items were super-spicy for my tastebuds, but it was mostly delicious and a very enjoyable evening all round. Araoi! (Apologies to Thai people everywhere for my attempt at writing "Delicious" in your native tongue).

  • Class 5A Daytrip - our appointed class figurehead, Chan from Korea, decided to organise a little outing on a sunny Sunday for those class members who could make it. Little did we realise just how in-depth and interesting it would be. And how many free samples we'd nibble on. We went around Sanjo and Shijo, down familiar streets and the not so familiar, before arriving at an anonymous block of flats. Little did we know lunch was to be a free meal at a Korean Protestant chapel! With the greatest hospitality, we had big bowls of spicy vegetable and rice soup (though I passed on the kimchee) and engaged in conversation with the regulars. This was followed by a trip down Nishiki Food Market for donuts and tofu ice-cream, before a walk through Gion, through Yasaka Shrine, up to Kiyomizu-dera, via many local sweet stores, offering countless samples (accompanied by scary little Geisha bots, that nodded a little like the wind-up razor-toothed dolls from Barbarella).

    I had visited Kiyomizu on my previous trip with Harry, but it was lovely to go again, and I did few things I didn't do last time. For instance, I attempted to walk with my eyes closed from one love stone to another at Jishu-jinja, but missed my goal, therefore dooming my relationships forever...or something. Plus, I drank from the Otowa-no-taki waterfall, which is said to have therapeutic qualities and improve school results (which I guess compensates for buggering up my love life). A return visit at night in the autumn is a must. It wasn't all good though - I left my sunglasses somewhere up the hill (a habit which is continuing rather worringly, having left my file in class, and then leaving a recently purchased storage folder at the supermarket). And an octopus ball covered in horrible Japanese mayonnaise (to my mind, the foullest condiment known to man) left a taste in my mouth that lasted a day. I'm similarly afflicted as I type. Last night, I was all set to cook some bacon with my new frying pan, but what I thought was cooking oil turned out...well...not to be. I decided I'd cook it anyway, but the bacon just burnt horribly. Desperate for a bacon butty, I chowed down on it anyway, and while I liked it at the time, I now have a horrible burnt metallic taste in my mouth over 24 hours later, like I've swigged battery acid and am turning into some kind of ManTank a la Testuo II

    .
Back on topic, I took photos using Chan's camera, but have yet to receive them back, but once I do, I will stick them up on my brand new Flickr account! For now, I will leave you with a couple of treats for making it this far. First, my mad quote of the week (which actually comes from several weeks ago). I got a message from the Gakusei Centre office informing me that my bank manager wanted to seak to me regarding a bank transfer from my UK account:

...the manager has a duty to clarify what are you going to use the money for, probably to prevent an illegal trade or money supply to a terrorist. (But can you imagine a terrorist saying "Yah, I' m going to buy a nice launcher with this money." ???) Anyway, please contact...
And instead of pics, here're two short little mobile phone videos of Japanese technology in action. First, the aforementioned Geisha Bot:



And, having previously seen animatronic road worker signalmen in Tokyo two years ago, here's the next generation - little digital men on orange screens waving a flag. What's great is how it's not a cartoon of a man, but an actual image of a road worker scanned in. Unnecessary but genius:





Thursday, October 19, 2006

The Church of Paragraph Writing

It is about time I actually wrote a bit about the very reason I came to Japan in the first place: to be educated at Doshisha University of course. I've just finished my third week of lessons, so I have a pretty fair idea of how the term is going to pan out from hereonin.

We have 3 hours of Japanese language classes, divided into 2 90 minute sessions, Monday to Friday from 9am. And with the journey from Mukaijima taking around 50 minutes total (with good connections), that means it's an early start every weekday and a lot of commuting time to kill. Luckily, Baptiste is my regular travel buddy, so our strange conversations and earphones of music get us feeling as genki as we can possibly be, given the circumstances. These language lessons are split between those that cover a general set text filled with kanji, grammar and vocabulary for the week ahead and classes that deal with particular aspects of Nihongo (listening, speaking, reading, etc.). Then, after lunch, we have additional courses we can pick and choose.

On Mondays, there's Japanese Life and Culture 1, which consists of visits, trips and hands-on experiences - so it's my 'fun-time' class; so far, we've been to a traditional sweets museum and shop, a textiles centre, on which I will write more about later, and a kimono-trying on session. I'm particularly looking forward to the 'Incense Listening' class in a month or so...whatever it entails. Wednesdays include my additional Japanese language seminar, which is fast-paced and tricky, but just the kind of thing I should be studying, and Ancient Japanese history, while Thursday features Japanese Law and Politics - which was billed as being taught in English, but has ended up with us flitting between Japanese and English throughout each sentence. Tuesday and Friday afternoons are my free afternoons, but I've yet to really cash in on these opportunities with the amount of homework and various bits and bobs I have to get done.

Ah, the homework. It all seems quick and simple, but there's so much to keep in my mind, I rarely manage to do everything that was needed for the day ahead, but have probably finished another exercise not due for a week. But I'm getting there...one day at a time.

The teaching style is mostly very much like SOAS, though there are certain differences. For a start, while in one week last year in London, we would have only 4 different tutors in the Japanese classes, here we have double that, as there's a mix of full-time and part-time staff. It makes you realise just how hard Tanaka-sensei, Kashiwagi-sensei, et al work, with the same hours and amount of teaching, across different classes and year groups. Another change is we have male Japanese teachers, who turn out to be my favourites.

Matsumoto-sensei would be a legend in the making, if it wasn't for the fact that he seemed to already achieve legendary status based on word-of-mouth via my predecessors at Doshisha. Every class he teaches is just filled with such energy with a healthy dash of self-deprecating humour that you can't help but join in. Now that our class has gotten chummy with each other, it makes for some very entertaining off-tangent discussions, all in an atmosphere where you don't feel like a fool if you make a mistake. Plus, he never fails to give thorough explanations for trickier language aspects, peppered with pitch-perfect textbook-quality examples. I consider myself very lucky to have 3 lessons with him a week. The only other regular male teaching staff member in the Japanese language department is Manita-sensei, who has a rather bizarre sense of humour which others find a little disconcerting, but he always cracks me up, so I can't complain.

Perhaps the most unsual class so far has been a writing comprehension class which has introduced me to The Church of Paragraph Writing, which, via the aid of post-it notes, is designed to optimise one's essay/notice construction to make clear and precise sentences in the best structure possible. The three tenents of Paragraph Writing remind me of the Hardeep Singh Kohli documentary on Scientology (and the opening verse to Queen's It's A Kind of Magic):
  1. One word, one meaning
  2. One sentence, one point,
  3. One paragraph, one topic
I've yet to fully understand what it all really means, but I am intruiged to see how it all plays out. Similarly, the speaking class is built on repetition, repetition, repetition. In particular, the 'Shadowing' exercise, in which we all recite scripted conversation together, turns into a babbling mess, albeit an entertaining one. Perhaps we can all do it to music over the coming weeks; every school and kindergarten I pass on the way to Mukaijima station - and there are a fair few - seems to have singing, music and learning off by heart pouring out every day, so this seems like a university extension of such a teaching method.

As for the actual classrooms, if you've seen Battle Royale, you have a pretty good idea already - chunky sliding doors, raised platform at the front with stand and microphone, big green chalkboard. A green little National/Panasonic is plugged into the wall beside the chalkboard and turns out to be a hoover box for chalkboard wipers, which reveals why the board's are always so immaculate after a day's scribbling. However, my biggest bugbear are the desks. The majority of them have the ability to fold out in front, but that means there is zero legroom and I frequently bash my shins against the folded desk half - leading to frequent cussing and my football shinjury taking even longer to heal (scab gone, still pink and tender). I don't know how anyone can cope with such stunted seating space. And furthermore, the little cubby holes under the desktop cause further knee bashing and make forgetting your work folder even easier (as I did today...very annoying).

So, at the mo, its a bit of a mixed bag, and the schedule is really taking its toll on my waking life, but, in the words of Mr. Bedingfield, I gotta get thru this...

And on a completely unrelated note, in case you hadn't take note, I note that two teaser trailers for Hot Fuzz are now available to view in all their hilarious glory here and here. The self-references! Wells locations! Souljacker Part I by Eels! How's that for a slice of fried gold?

Monday, October 16, 2006

Best Buys...So Far II

Wahey! I've finally got internet access in my room now, so this blog is coming to you live as opposed to typed up previously and uploaded via university computers! This is a quick follow-up to Best Buys I - just to cover a few cool items I purchased, as well as telling you how fantabulous my mobile phone is.

HOUSEHOLD GOODS

You will have previously seen cameos of my cool little glasses from the 100 yen shop. For no particular reason, they have AoB written on them, with a coloured circle and a character - like a piece of punctuation. I've got an exclamation mark with an orange circle, a plus sign in a red circle, Baptiste has one with a percentage sign in a blue circle, and there's also one with a yellow circle with an @ sign. They just look...kinda neat, s'all.

I also got a mug as part of the British Bistro Bear range, with the following enscription, which is also my mad phrase of the week:

Bistro bear is the best gentleman of a British tradition. He is cleverly refined, is very stylish and kind. Ladies enjoy conversation with him.
If this is what Japanese kitchenware manufacturers have been saying about 'gentleman of a British tradition', I'm going to disappoint many resident mug enthusiasts.

As for other goods, very little exciting; I still need to get a frying pan to expand my meal options a little more, and a household plant would complete my room (as would a couple of posters to brighten up the rather drab walls - household department store Loft currently has these great Halloween posters dotted around, but I don't think they're for sale - I might try and ask nicely after October).

MOBILE PHONE

Now I'm not exactly technologically-savvy or up-to-date on new mobile phones, but the features on my Sanyo A5514SA blew me away. And what's more - it was free! Of course, it's all part of a special student contract and as it was the only English-language mobile offered by AU (the service provider), so everyone has the same model - but who cares?

Features include:
  • Camera - vary picture size and quality from the little pics I've already shown here to some pretty impressive quality big snaps, with all sorts of special digital camera effects you'd never expect a mobile could achieve. Plus up to 3 mins of video footage.
  • GPS navigator and map system for when you are really lost.
  • Radio channels - but not really any worth listening to.
  • Internet access - perfect for quick headlines, weather, info searches. Also can download pics, music and episodes of Oh! Mikey.
  • E-mail - without SMS texting, there's C-Mail (for phone-to-phone messages) and E-Mail for between phones and between computers.
  • Infra-red - for uploading pics and videos to computers, exchanging address book info.
  • Japanese - English / English - Japanese dictionary - by no means comprehensive, but useful for on-the-go translation.
  • Photo-mixer - make bizarre little movie shorts with photos you've taken.
  • Optical Recognition - this is amazing - you can use the camera to recognise kanji written on signs, packets, etc., and it will translate it for you! Plus it can recognise addresses, emails, notes, and such as well. Not perfect, but fun.
  • Plus...calculator, alarm, remote control, calendar, journal, memo pad, pocket money log, and more!
It feels like such a special treat! A shiny new phone! And if this is what they offer to dumb foreigners like me, what do the top-of-the-range ones offer? It seems the most popular model at the mo is Docomo's Foma SH903i and other similar models, which seem to be a stylistic step backwards, looking chunky, blocky, thick and heavy. But I bet they're stocked to the gills with 3D holograms, virtual future predictive capabilities and every book ever written. Oh, and a little hole to put your 'strappers' (or 'danglies').

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Best Buys...So Far

Another double dollop of blogs, you lucky people!

We’ve dwelled too long on the negative purchases, so let me tell you about some of the choice products I have bought recently. With all of these things, there are equivalents in the UK, but in Japan, it’s the little differences that…um, make…the difference. The bread’s a little sweeter, the Coco Pops (or Coco-kun’s Choco Kurisupiisu) more chocolatey – but my market research has turned up some interesting results…

FOOD

Japan loves snacks – FACT. Aisles and aisles devoted to all kinds of snack foods, crisps, sweets, nuts, dried fruits, chocolates, biscuits. And then all the strange region-specific bite-size nibbles that I haven’t explored in full yet for fear of munching on octopus beak when I was expecting cashew nut.



Choccie biccies are the order of the day, my favourite being Graham Biscuit, “Chocolate Cream Sand Biscuit”, which I believe is supposed to be more like Golden Grahams than Graham le Saux and more like Sandwich than Weston-Super-Mare Sand (though the Digestive-esque quality of said biscuit lends it a gritty texture akin to that of beach dust). At first, I wondered why each biscuit was individually wrapped in plastic wrapping-conscious Japan (a treatise on Kyoto’s recycling system coming soon), but it perfectly rations them out, unlike the tube of mini choc-chip cookies I ate in one go while lying on my bed after a long tiring day.

Crisps are more of a mixed bag, with unusual flavours turning up some nice surprises (Baptiste’s curry flavoured maize puffs were addictive) and more traditional flavours disappointing (Chip Star’s lightly salted tube were somewhat flat and uninspiring). Jagareto (I think), the crisps with the ad as seen on Adam and Joe Go Tokyo, are pretty tasty, but my favourite so far has been a big bag of Mexican Chilli Tacos.

Ice cream, on the other hand, often scores highly. I’ve had a choc-chip ice cream crepe (crepe in general are very popular in Japan, though they fill them with anything – natto crepe anyone?), ice-cream filled waffle, crushed cola ice (which caused minor gum damage trying to extract from the bottle), some delicious fruit ice creams with bits of pineapple in, and Giant, a brand of ice cream cone not too dissimilar to Cornettos, but at only 80 yen a go (about 40p), they always do the trick.



As for actual meals, there’re all the various kinds of quick and easy noodles (but they pretty much all have the same flavour). Boil in the bag curries aren’t too bad with some microwaved rice (it seems that there’s a curry endorsed by pretty much every kids TV character – yes, even Thomas the Tank Engine), but pasta remains the top student dish. However, I recently prepared a meal of mini hamburgers, chips and mixed veg. The hamburgers were each about the size of my thumb, and came in a little plastic dish for being heated up in the microwave. Though the package advertised 100% beef, I think that really meant that the beef was 100% beef and not, for instance, beef-flavoured tofu, as there was some other filler ingredient of which I couldn’t quite ascertain its origin, but they were fine in a late-night burger van way. The chips were also microwaveable, in a little red box. They stuck together and were a bit greasy, but actually tasted like less salty McDonald’s fries, but like the small ones at the bottom of the carton. The veg was Jolly Green Giant-branded, though a little flavourless – but I was just happy to have some actual vegetables.



DRINK

Ion supply drink Pocari Sweat is a beverage “that smoothly supplies the lost water and electrolytes during perspiration” and is a somewhat confusing creation that is instantly refreshing but tastes a bit like an anonymous vegetable. It served me well on my previous travels, and continues to do now – though the fact that it is made by Otsuka Pharmaceuticals, they of Calorie Mate infamy, makes me a little wary. Calpis has a comparable taste, though it is distinctly white in colour. Plus, in a country where the Nintendo Wii doesn’t produce a snigger, having the word ‘piss’ (or ‘sweat’ for that matter) in the name of a beverage is not considered odd.

Also returning from my previous Japan adventure is Lemon Water, similarly refreshing, but tastes good even after losing its chill carrying it around in your backpack all day temple-hopping. And good old Qoo, though the white grape flavour I love has only recently become readily available in nearby shops – and I’m not completely sure it is the same taste as the drink I’ve had in McDonald’s.

Bubble Man and Bubble Man II are space-age bubblegum flavour soft drinks and can therefore only be consumed by 7 year olds at the risk of descending into a sugar-induced twitch. Suntory’s C.C. Lemon claims to have 210 lemons’ worth of Vitamin C in every 1.5 litre bottle, though every lemon-based beverage makes similar claims (probably because fresh fruit and vegetables are so pricey). Fanta R18 is another Red Bull style sugary fizzy caffeine gurana enamel-remover, almost fluorescent yellow in colour – but I had to buy a bottle if only because R18 is the certificate the BBFC classifies porno.



Tea and coffee drinks, both hot and cold, can be found everywhere, with vending machines on every corner, advertised by Meg Ryan and Tommy Lee Jones. As booze goes, Asahi’s the obvious (and nicest I think) choice of beer; can’t say I’m a fan of Kirin. Haven’t gone down the sake root just yet – beer’s expensive enough as it is.

That’s it for food and drink for now. Next time – household goods, plus my mobile phone!

The Following Takes Place Between Taste and Nutrition


If there is one food I had been itching to try while in Japan, it would have to be Calorie Mate. Pete had previously shown me a crazy sketch on iFilm from Fuji TV’s One Night, one of Japan’s biggest live comedy shows, involving Carlos Bernard reprising his role of Tony Almeida and doing very bizarre things.

Well, as we had a look for more Japanese 24 videos, we came across a series of advertisements for Calorie Mate featuring Kiefer Sutherland as Jack Bauer on some anti-terrorist mission in Tokyo running around the subway, involved in high-speed chases and riding in helicopters. And in all this, he snacks on Calorie Mate, which appeared to be some kind of tasty energy snack.

Japan is currently in the grip of 24 fever. The fifth series is being released incrementally on DVD, so there are banners and posters in every DVD store (and it means I get to see the final episodes at last – I think I’ve already mentioned this), there’s a 24 magazine which comes with a couple of episodes of the first series every week or two, and then there’s big Calorie Mate ads, such as this one in Shijo underground.



Mmm…Situation Free…whatever that means. And I assume the rather camp Japanese gentleman next to him is from a TV ad I have yet to see. So I decide to go out and buy some Calorie Mate for myself. And, inspired by the excellent (and stomach-churning) Steve, Don’t Eat It, it’s time for the first edition of Steele, Don’t Eat It!

Now, we all know Jack Bauer never eats, sleeps, or makes toilet, so surely Calorie Mate must be some kind of wonder food, divine ambrosia or heaven-sent mana if it breaks the habit of a man who frequently saves the world on an empty stomach? The packaging doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence, being in an anonymous yellow box, heavy on (English) text. What’s more, there’s a problem of which flavour to choose. But when a particular foodstuff as such varied taste options as Chocolate, Cheese and ‘Freshness’, I start to worry about what the Calorie Mate ‘Block’ might entail, so I go for the safe option of Chocolate – they can’t screw up chocolate, right?

Reading the blurb on the box suggests it’s much like any energy bar:

“CALORIE MATE BLOCK is a nutritionally balanced source of the energy needed for daily activities. CALORIE MATE BLOCK is naturally suited for people on-the-go who need an easy source of energy and nutrition – at breakfast, work, sports, study, or any busy time.”

Fair enough, though the spiel and the classification of ‘Balanced nutrition food (solid type)’ doesn’t suggest that taste factors into the equation in any regard. The fact that it’s produced by Otsuka Pharmaceutical Co., Ltd. and not, say, Mr. Chef’s Yummy Scrummy Treats Kitchen, only adds to my trepidations. Ingredients include 40g of sugar per 80g serving, edible vegetable fats (better than inedible ones I believe), almond, nonfat milk and soybean protein. Oh, and chocolate and cocoa powder, which is reassuring (do the other flavours have cheese and ‘freshness’ powder then?).

Opening the box reveals two sachets with two fingers each. Two dirty brown stubby powdery fingers, like dried turds doing their best Bourbon biscuit impression. I decide the best way to taste it is to dress up like Jack Bauer on the billboard ad, so I put on my jacket, stick in an earphone and look angry, frustrated, concerned and desperate.



And then I take my first bite. Which coincidentally also turns out to be my last. Unlike Steve, Don’t Eat It, I’ll give you a picture of my immediate reaction (again using imageshack as it seems Blogger doesn't like me using pictures anymore). Suffice to say, I’d like to see Jack Bauer pull this face in the commercials...



It reminded me of the brownies Harry made years ago in food tech, when he forgot to add milk to the mixture. It was so dry, chalky and crumbly, like an old biscuit that had gone soft. And the yummy chocolate taste I had been expecting was conspicuous in its absence. I tried to finish one mouthful, but resorted to spitting it into my basin – the half-chewed mess would make good artificial dog mash for film and television. Jack Bauer is clearly a harder man than I for being able to stomach such a foul creation. Kudos, sir, kudos.

The bottom of the pack reads:

“Caution: To insure freshness, please eat as soon as possible after opening the package.”

Don’t make me laugh...Calorie Mate – you are no friend of mine.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Ball Ball Ball Footie Footie Footie

aka Doing a Lineker

My student volunteer Kenta had invited me to play a football match with him when we first met and game-day arrived. After meeting at Kyoto station, we took the trip on the JR line to Osaka, then on to Umeda to meet a few of his friends, before our final stop at Totsuyou. No idea where the hell it was, so don’t ask me to point it out to you on a map.

The pitch isn’t your typical grass playing field, but is actually a floodlit baseball ground with a goal at both ends and some basic football markings painted into the sand. As a result, the sand is somewhat slippery to play on in my trainers and there’s a big mound where the pitcher would be which gets tripped over a couple of times during play (but at least you get an advantage if you stand on it when going for a header).

We get changed into our assorted kits outdoors on a bench by the pitch and I don the clothes I hastily purchased the day before at the local sports goods emporium. Our team is a ragtag bunch of friends, acquaintances, locals and me. In particular, I get on well with Kenta’s pal, nicknamed Uza, who is quite the character. Dressed in hip-hop gangsta garb, I wonder if ‘Uza’ is actually short for ‘Yakuza’. Throughout the evening, he takes off his shirt, puts on a pair of boxing gloves, assumes a fighting pose, and then wobbles his knees in cowardice. He had just got back from the Philippines and showed me a few of his pics – including the Filipino girl he bedded, lying completely starkers (of course, I could see everything). He also has a copy of Playboy with him and later promises to take me to a brothel (at least, I believe that’s what he was getting at).

Our opponents are far more professional. Harder, better, faster, stronger. Hell, they even have their own kit – we just slip on some orange vests they brought along! They got here before us and brought their girlfriends along to watch them trounce us poor saps. As we wait for the rest of our team to arrive, we practice a bit and I’m not as bad as I thought I’d be. It seems the rest of my team are of a similar ability – bad, but by no means useless. At least we all know the ball has to get into the opponent’s goal and to do so it needs to be kicked.

The officials line the pitch; it’s time to talk tactics. No-one’s particularly forthcoming picking their positions, except Kenta going up front. I choose to play right mid-field, but it turns out I chose poorly; five minutes of running back and forth and I’m already knackered. I can’t ever remember being this tired at school! Regardless, when the ball does come my way, I do okay. Make a few good passes, keep control of the ball, with only a few slip-ups (including one literal slip-up, in which I tumbled backwards off the pitch, grazing my knee). However, once the opposing team get the ball, wrestling it off them is nigh-on impossible, as I fail to intercept every pass they make or time my tackles. Unfortunately, the ball keeps being played on the left – our opponent’s right, so they have little difficulty picking it up, making long passes and hitting the back of the net. A break after 15 minutes and a swig of Lemon Water does little to improve my condition, and after 30 minutes of play the score is 4-0.

We head benchwards while the other team continue to play amongst themselves. I examine my knee, but it’s not as bad as that of one of Kenta’s friends, bleeding away, so I don’t make a fuss. Then suddenly, it’s the second half – I thought that was it! Well, we’re more determined this time, and we create more opportunities and actually have some shots on goal and corners! This half we only let in one more goal, but it is clear that lack of ability, communication and technique are to blame for defeat and a final score of 5-0.

While everyone else smoothes the pitch with big brooms (this being sand, not grass, I didn’t know what was going on at first), I examine my shin injury (or shinjury). I picked it up in the second half, but can’t remember how – I think maybe from a tackle I made. It consists of a separate bruise and cut, which is bleeding profusely. As someone who doesn’t really get into fights nor have dangerous hobbies, such wounds are somewhat alien to me, so I try to mop it up as best I could with a towel, then roll up my sock to cover the damage and avoid running red all over my pantaloons.

Tired and aching, we make our way back to Osaka, and go our separate ways. It takes about two hours total to get back to Mukaijima after some train-hopping. After picking up some food and drink from the nearby convenience mart, I get to my room after 11pm, flop onto my bed, peel back my sock and clean the cut with antiseptic wipes. Over a week later, the scars still show, but are scabbing nicely.

shinjury

Other than that, I’m ship-shape and Bristol fashion. Well, except for usual ailments and mosquito bites, that are fading away gradually now I have bought and applied Kayumi Bye Bye (though I must remember not after applying the tingly medicine to not rub my eyes immediately after). Plus, I still have these strange lumps in my armpits that won’t go away. The doctor I went to see before I left for Japan just said they were swollen glands under the hair follicles that will soon vanish, but if anything they’ve gotten bigger and increasingly tender. My armpit is looking more and more like Lemmy from Motörhead with every passing day.

And on that delicious thought, I bid you adieu. I will leave you with a quote from a French-style patisserie window nearby the football/baseball ground. Again, it’s not the spelling, but rather the grandiose wording that takes the crêpe…

“A completely new flavour combining in perfect harmony chocolate and custard.”

I’m going now, bye!

Worst Buys...So Far

One invariably makes some dodgy purchases when arriving in a new country, especially when you only have a partial understanding of the language (you try working out which cleaning product cleans what with only a name and fragrance to go by). However, sometimes the language barrier isn’t to blame. So here’s a quick rundown of them things I regret parting my cash over during the past couple of weeks (Blogger for some reason is being a big smelly uploading pics, so they are via ImageShack and poorly aligned).

APPLES
Finding fresh fruit and veg in Japan isn’t a problem – paying for it is. One apple can set you back around 200 yen (£1); a pack of grapes up to 500 yen. I did it multi-pack style, buying a bag of five giant apples for 400 yen. The thing is, they’re just too big, as if they were compensating for being so pricey. I don’t think I was buying them from the giant greengrocer’s section, but I can barely manage half of one. I’ve still got three left in my fridge a fortnight on. And chopping them up is a pain (see below).



KNIFE
The Daiso is a chain of 100 yen shops in which you can pretty much stock up for life. One such essential purchase was to be a knife for cutting up my brand new apples. I spurn the 100 yen knives on display in favour of a 315 yen model that looks the business. Wooden handle, made in Japan and it’s got kanji…on…the blade! Hell, it’s three times the price of the other knives, it has gotta be good. Wrong, wrong, wrong. No fancy way of saying it – it’s just plain crap. The wooden handle is splinter city and the blade itself struggles through the aforementioned apples – elephantine, they may be, but it has trouble piercing even the fruit’s very skin. And the less said about the carrot peeling fiasco, the better.

Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us

PIZZA
Now this might be a problem with my understanding of the inner workings of my toaster/microwave (I bought chips expecting to be able to cook them in some foil as the picture on the packet showed, but then I confirmed it was indeed a microwave, not toaster/oven, which scuppered my fries). But I bung in one of these frozen pizzas for the allotted time using the pizza setting on the device, and out comes a melty-topped burned-bottom pizza-pie for being to sup upon. However, every bite alternates between being ‘quite not bad’ to ‘vomit bread nastiness’. I finish the whole thing, but I wish I’d stuck to my poorly-chopped carrots (see above). I still have 2 remaining, but they’re going to be gathering frost for a while yet.

Coming soon – my Best Buys so far!

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Room 1017

Room 1017

It’s about time I gave you all a tour of my pad during my spell in Japan – no tatami mats and that, but it beats Dinwiddy House (and maybe even Whitfield Street), so pity about the location. That’s not to say Mukaijima doesn’t have its charms, but its proximity to central Kyoto (or lack of) needs no reminding.

Being on the 10th floor (Japanese style that is, as 1F = Ground Floor) offers great views from outside my front door and from my balcony. Mostly buildings and roads, but the wonderful surrounding mountains (with a temple perched at the top of one in the distance) and the vast expanse of sky above can create some dramatic imagery, from pink-orange sunsets streaking across the firmament, to billowing rain-leaden clouds, trickling down the hillside like a frozen avalanche.

View from the top
My room is not quite as eye-catching, still rather bare-looking as I haven’t found a place that sells posters yet (but then again, nowhere seems to stock Blu Tac or an equivalent adhesive). But as I’m on the corner with only one neighbour, it’s a bit bigger than the average room (well, Baptiste’s at least). And now, thanks to my mobile phone camera, you can take a virtual look around (not as interesting as that may sound).

There’s an entry hall with shoe rack (for shoes), and then the kitchen is on the left. It’s pretty basic stuff (singular hot-plate, sink, glass cupboard to display all your food), but it does the job. Alongside it is my fridge/freezer and toaster/microwave. Yes, it is a bizarre mix and not to be confused with a toaster/oven (lest you use aluminium foil) – but it toasts pretty good toast and heats up plasticated slop, though it doesn’t say its wattage, so guesswork is the chef’s best friend at casa del Rory.

Kitchen
Along the same wall is a table and chair, a couple of bins and then my big bookshelf unit, which holds stacks of books, making my tawdry collection look somewhat embarrassing (even more so when it consists mainly of textbooks and comic books). Still, there’s certainly room for expansion. My laptop resides on my desk, which again has more storage space, with big filing-cabinet style draws.

At the moment, all I’m using for bedding is a sheet and a pillow (purchased), though the futon rental company gave me enough bedding to comfortably sleep three. Plus, there’s even more storage under the bed. And that’s before we get to the massive wardrobe – though the rail isn’t high enough to stop shirts dragging along the shelf. Design flaw or are my clothes too big? You decide.

My balcony has space for hanging up clothes to dry, a dirty brush, anti-crow/suicide netting and the other end of the air-conditioner. In a week or so, I have to pay to use the aircon until April, but I cannot imagine I’d need it during that time, and if it’s sweltering in February, I’ll get a fan. When I asked how they’d know if I was using it during the pay-period, they said they come up to the room and flick a switch to disable it…just a switch, eh?
Shower-pod
Finally, my little shower room. It’s compact, but useable, decked out in funky beige with a lavatory (sadly not an electric heated one), basin and a hot and powerful shower/bath. A shame then that there’s a bit of funny smell when the water’s running (just as the water from the kitchen sink tap starts off a lovely yellow – it soon clears up, but it isn’t really drinkable).

Well, that’s about it for the brief tour. Not very exciting, but why not watch it in motion? Thanks to mobile phone technology, I took two minutes of footage of my room for everyone to see. You’ll have to excuse the quality of footage, nauseating whip-pans and inane commentary, but it’ll give you an idea of my room as if viewed by a short-sighted pocket robot. Enjoy!



Be sure to check out Baptiste's blog as well (link on the right). He has a brand new camera and links to better pics!

Sunday, October 01, 2006

For God, for Doshisha, and Native Land!

Yes, it is indeed another double helping of blogs, but I want to get my initial happenings out of the way as I’m busting with other things to talk about from transportation to funky purchases I’ve made to soccer madness. But Friday 22nd saw my very reason for coming to Japan take centre stage as it was our initial orientation and welcoming ceremony. And ceremonious was certainly the word.

We take our seats in Divinity Hall, in an upstairs chapel replete with stained-glass windows and hymn books, a grand organ and a crown of thorns. I had underestimated the Christian influence of the university’s founder, Joseph Hardy Neesima, which had been maintained since its establishment in 1875. We sing Doshisha anthems (from which the title of this blog comes from) along with a choir and several important officials give us talks on what the university means to all who study there. It’s all extremely po-faced, but our subsequent meetings with the foreign student department are cheerier affairs (especially the head of Japanese teaching, who reveals a penchant for karaoke), even if we do have our placement tests to determine which level we study at.

Unfortunately, the first written test is the kind I abhor – fill in the gaps. It sounds easy, but I’d rather have an essay question, as I just cannot operate my mind in such a fashion; filling in Japanese sentences with one of four options just doesn’t seem right, as I hate being a slave to multiple choice. I hand in my paper despondently and head to the canteen for lunch, which has a large selection of dishes, though it doesn’t ever seem to change.

The afternoon is filled with a lengthy orientation lecture, where we get a ‘goodie-bag’ filled with endless documents to fill in and deadlines to meet. Its an overwhelming package, but at least we now have our student cards, computer ID and password and Doshisha College Song CD featuring anthems, chants and pop songs to inspire us in the morning before classes begin (it is recommended we learn at least the two key songs for special events and that).

It’s then interview time, and after a 2 hour wait in which we get to know our fellow students better, Parn, myself and three others are called in – and it is not what we expected. We are all sat in a line facing what seems to be all the teaching staff (ten of them at least), scrutinising our entry forms and papers. The questions aren’t the self-introduction style we expected, and while I think I do alright to respond to them, there was one about if anyone inspired you to study Japanese, but I got the wrong end of the stick and just went off-topic about my hobbies…which is a pain because I could have easily answered the question if I’d fully understood it. At least they seemed impressed about the textbooks we had studied at SOAS, so I pray they take into account my previous credentials when they make their decision.

Monday morning comes and we head back to Doshisha for our 成績発表 (seiseki happyou – announcement of results, usually screamed at the end of an arcade game). And I’m in group 5A, with Parn and Baptiste and it’s the level I was hoping for, which is a considerable relief. We will repeat a few chapters from our New Approach textbooks at the start, but the course advances from there over the course of the year.

Classes don’t start until Monday 2nd October, but the rest of the week has so far been admin and further procedures. We had a tour of the library on Tuesday, which has a more higgledy-piggledy layout compared to SOAS’, but there’s plenty more on offer, and the corridors turn up some nice treasures (very serene reading and study areas, contrasting group study rooms that look more like interrogation chambers, an AV centre stocked with videos, DVDs, tapes, laserdiscs and TV’s showing BBC World, which is covering the Borat US premiere while we’re looking around). We also have a rather fruitless afternoon, in which Kenta returns to help us with life in Japan, but we’ve pretty much done everything already, and as he studies at the other Kyotanabe campus, not the Imadegawa one, most places are new to him as well. And Wednesday was another medical check-up, solely consisting of yet another chest x-ray…I don’t know why they’re so concerned with a little bit of tuberculosis with the amount of smoking going on.

Well that’s pretty much up-to-date now. I’ve left a few bits and pieces out which I’ll write about later in more general terms. And I’ve just got a new mobile phone which deserves a whole post to itself, but it does mean blog-worthy pictures are within my grasp (still set on getting a proper camera for proper photography as well).

Until then, here’s my favourite engrish quote of the week, found on a carton of Hokkaido milk – all dairy products seem to come from Hokkaido, as it’s the big agricultural centre:

“We send to you the delicious milk extracted from the fine good dairy cow which grew up in beautiful Nature.”

It’s not poor spelling that makes these funny, rather word choice and wondering why these semi-inspirational proverbs and slogans are found in such mundane places, let alone why they exist in the first place. Ah well!

Getting It Together

The week leading up to our first day at Doshisha (from the 18th September to Friday 22nd) was predominantly spent getting organised for university and establishing myself for the year ahead. Luckily, I finally bumped into Baptiste on Monday, and the two of us could go forth into the world of forms, documents and having to write our complicated address repeatedly, together as one united front.

As a result, we make frequent visits to Momoyama Goryomae, the next train stop from Mukaijima and also perhaps the most enjoyable place name to say – I think it is because the sounds are reminiscent of a baby’s first gurgled words, as if trying to say ‘Mama’, conjuring up soothing images of maternal love and care…or something. Anyway, it is also home to Fushimi Ward Office where we sort out our Alien Registration (wahey! I’m an alien!) with the help of a man in a strange t-shirt en français and gingery hair, but we need is help and he speaks English, so we’re not going to dish out style tips just yet (and we’re not exactly experts on the fashion du jour, so we keep schtum). We also pay a visit to the local NTT showroom to get hooked up to the internet, though we won’t probably get contacted about it for another week.

We also pay visits to the nearby Taito Station arcade for a whiz at Taiko no Tatsujin 8, the endlessly enjoyable rhythm action game where you bash a big drum with big sticks making a big noise in time with the music, an eclectic choice of which features the cream of the J-pop crop, reworkings of classical tunes and video game themes (we happily bash along to a Super Mario medley). There’s also Inobun Imaginary Airport, which doesn’t quite live up to its name, being simply a DVD/CD rental/purchase centre, but it is well-stocked indeed – plus there are banners for 24 season 5 on DVD, so I can finally watch the last few hours of said series when the appropriate volume is released in early November.

Running through the area is the Otseuji covered arcade and running in front of that is the railway line, as the gathered shoppers’ flow is interrupted by the level crossing barriers lowering and trains shooting past (one of which was emblazoned with Thomas the Tank Engine iconography). Arcade highlights include:

- The media centre, offering internet access, comics, DVDs, games, etc. Plus free drink refills!
- The videogames shop next door, home to a broad range of games and formats, bang up-to-date, stretching back yesteryear, and everything in between. I’m tempted to get a DS Lite, but they’re sold out everywhere, so there’s no danger of that at the moment.
- Mos Burger – a Japanese burger fast food restaurant near the McDonald’s, which offers a tasty and affordable Cheeseburger set amongst its wide selection. I have a conversation with a Japanese lady in English, French and Japanese about my year abroad. She advises against purchasing an electronic dictionary, as even Japanese are forgetting kanji, using it as a quick fix, and just as quickly forgetting them.
- A little okonomiyaki restaurant – okonomiyaki is a kind of cabbage and vegetable batter omelette filled with meat, fish, vegetables and such, which you cook on a hot plate in front of you…and it’s well tasty like.

While the arcade is also home to several banks, we do our banking at our local Mukaijima branch with its helpful staff (though it seems to take everyone in the branch to cash a traveller’s cheque) and TV set – watch old samurai flicks and kids shows while you wait! However, our attempts at using ATMs were not initially successful. Before we got our current cash cards (with a twee drawing of pixies gathering berries), Baptiste tried to get some cash out of a MasterCard booth down the road. With no English explanation and text-heavy screen, we daren’t select any options for fear of having the card munched up. As we look on in confusion, a female voice is piped in to the booth different to the machine. We panic and quit the transaction as the lady keeps talking, trying to offer assistance but we do not understand. She calls to us to try and help but we hotfoot it and hope we haven’t embarrassed ourselves too much.

Thursday is spent preparing for our placement test the next day, but we head out into Kyoto in the evening to meet up with Parn and Talyn. The station we get into doesn’t seem to be the right one, so we head along the main street running west to east and bump into Parn near the big department stores. We briefly say hi to his friends from his halls, Pan and Mint from Thailand and Dongu from Korea (all of whom we come to know better in the following days) and try to find Talyn. However, it proves tricky; although she’s been in Kyoto longer than anyone, Tal keeps getting the wrong stations and as she’s the only one with a mobile phone, getting in touch is not the doddle it should be. We tell Tal to stay put as we pace up and down some very long streets, only to find her where we started. Tired and a bit bolshy, we head to McDonald’s for late din-dins (for shame, I know, but they have White Grape Qoo! Ah, refreshing!). We decamp to a local convenience mart for ice-cream, and then head back home – it has been a brief meet-up and catch-up, but there’s testing times ahead and I want to look my best. But once we’re settled in, work and money permitting, the Kyoto crew will be partying f’sure.

Phew! I’m almost up to speed, so I promise this blog can begin to include more general observations, thoughts and pictures (camera purchase imminent – I assure you).