Music lesson

In my two years in Japan, I have found very little popular Japanese music that I enjoy (of course, I don't care much for American Pop either). I have seen a handful of super fun underground live shows, but for the most part life in the inaka (countryside) has sheltered me from a good music scene.

However, I have greatly enjoyed two kinds of traditional music, taiko drumming and shamisen. Ususally performed by large groups of drummers, taiko is stunning to watch-- it is tribal, aerobic, and wonderfully cadenced. Shamisen I don't know that much about, but I have acquired a taste for the music of Yoshida Kyodai, two brothers who play the tsugaru-jamisen style from northern Japan. I can't describe it much better than Wikipedia, it is "rapid and percussive" and strangely addictive.

Imagine my surprise and good-fortune then, when last week a a group of four young Japanese musicians came to my school, toting shamisens and taiko drums, to do a workshop with the students. I had the period free and the music teacher graciously invited me to participate as well. The group played several songs together, accompanying with a wooden flute and piano, and then the shamisen player did an incredible solo. After, he asked if anyone would like to try. When none of the students volunteered, my hand shot up quickly. Mind you, I have no musical talent. None. As a child, piano lessons were forced and hated, and later in the middle school band, I played my clarinet just as softly as possibly so you couldn't hear the missed notes. I have trouble clapping along to a beat. Shoot, I can barely spell rhythm (I looked it up). But back to my story.



I proceeded to the chair on stage where the shamisen player quickly told me to fix my posture and sit like a Japanese person. HAI! He then showed me how to hold the shamisen neck and the bachi (plectrum/large pick), which I also did wrong. After correcting the grips, he instructed me how to play the strings. They are not so much picked or strummed as they are whacked. I whacked once, producing a painful sound and an equally painful look on my sensei's face. I was afraid I had broken the instrument. But, he let me try again so I whacked one more time, but without much improvement. His Japanese was a bit too rapid for me to catch it all, but he said something like "Thats about all the time we have now..at least you made a sound..tsugaru-jamisen is extremely difficult...thanks very much...please sit down." Despite the sensei's harsh words, it was fun to give it a whirl and all of the students were talking about how cool I was for trying. Yoshi!



Later, I had a go on one of the smaller taiko drums. The taiko players were much more friendly and said I gripped the bachi (also drumstick) perfectly. Couldn't tell if they were serious or just trying to make me feel better after the shamisen debacle. Either way, whacking the drum was waaayyyyyyy easier than whacking the shamisen.

Poses / Poser

The Nice Guy


The Dignity


The Resolute


The Focus



The Browbeater


The Demented


The Try Me You Think I Won't?


The Lethal


The Harlequin

手をあげて！ (Raise your hand)

Photos from Naruko Elementary School, with the 4th graders this time...

Have you read these?

UN Millenium Development Goals

Dewa Sanzan, Pt. 2

After a long, 10-hr sleep at the Japanese inn, we woke to a dreary, drizzly morning. It took us awhile to shake off our slumber, but after a bath and a large buffet breakfast, we finally got going. Once again in the car, we drove up the winding mountain road to the 8th station of Gas-san, or Moon Mountain. By the time we reached the trail head the rain had mostly stopped, but the fog/mist had become quite dense. Visibility was about 5 meters max, but we were all feeling genki, and decided to make the climb anyway.




The first couple km of the trail had been "improved", with wooden-plank walkways and round concrete stones guiding the way. Something I've yet to understand about Japanese culture, with it acute sense and appreciation of nature and seasons, is why there are so often, seemingly unnecessary (to me anyway), man-made elements present in nature. In fact I have read I bit about the matter, the importance of clean "negative space" (for example in Japanese gardens or Japanese calligraphy), for it serves to provide contrast with the other features of the space. From my gaijin perspective, it makes sense in a garden, but not so much on a mountain. Pardon this tangent, I'll get back to the hike...



We ascended through the thick white fog, stopping only to admire the mountain wildflowers, for the views were non-existent. There were quite a few Japanese hikers on the mountain, most well-equipped with brightly colored, expensive rain gear, though a fair number were clad in all-white, the traditional garb of the Dewa pilgrims. Most had summited already and were descending as we climbed, all offering "Konnichiwas", but few with smiles.



After about an hour of hiking, we began to encounter shallow patches of snow, though enough to wet our shoes and cause some near-spills. I hiked ahead of Aaron and Michelle several times, lost the in fog and my own daydreams, but they always caught up quickly when I stopped for a breather. Nearing the top, we came upon a small resthouse with hot drinks and a toilet. Outside of the house were several grave markers and small stone statues. I noticed the pilgrims bowed and said "Arigatou" as they passed by.



I raced up the last km or so, scrambling over the rocks and even jogging a bit in the dwindling snow. At the top was another shrine, and many more stone markers, though what they symbolized I have no idea. I started to pass through a small gate, not knowing what lay beyond, but a stern voice called my attention. I turned to see a priest? seated behind a small window, the kind where money and tickets are exchanged. He rather rudely told me I'd have to pay 500 yen to pass through the gate, so I offered a couple "sumimasens" and turned around and went to find a place out of the wind. Once seated, I pulled out my rice balls and chocolate, and ate until it was gone. Not thoroughly satisfied, I silently watched in envy as three elderly Japanese seated not far from me pulled out a campstove and cooked Cup Noodles and hot drinks.



After Aaron and Michelle arrived, we chatted briefly with the noodle-eaters. One lady, very excitedly told me to follow her--explaining she had something to show me. I did as instructed, though following her footsteps much easier than her Japanese. But, she led me just about 100 meters to a small clearing behind a stone wall, and point out several rare dark-colored lilies, which if I understood correctly, only grow in that exact spot on Moon Mountain, and only bloom for just a few weeks in early summer. I was more impressed by this fact than the actual flower, which hardly looked like a lily at all.

We took a short rest inside a hut before heading back down the mountain. With no views to enjoy, there wasn't much reason to remain at the top (except of course, encounters with Japanese ladies who point out wildflowers). So, we descended through the fog and snow the way we came, eager to be out of the cool, damp weather. Along the way we leap-frogged several times with the three noodle-eaters. I chatted again with the one who had shown me the lilies--she pointed out some more flowers and we talked about the other mountains we had climbed in northern Japan. She highly recommended I return to Gas-san later in the summer when the weather would be fine and the more beautiful wildflowers would be in bloom.




At one point I noticed a faint brightening and turned around to see the only sunshine of the day, and a beautiful bald below. However the cloud closed just as quickly as it had opened, and the brief glimpse of the mountain was gone.

Dewa Sanzan, Pt. 1

This past weekend I finally made it over to Yamagata Prefecture to check out Dewa Sanzan, a group of three sacred mountains (Haguro-san, Gas-san, and Yudono-san), holy to the Japanese Shinto religion. It had been on the "to-do-before-I-leave" list for some time...

On Saturday morning, along with my good friends Aaron and Michelle, I left Naruko and headed west into Yamagata, a beautiful drive through the central mountain range of northern Japan. It had been quite awhile since I had done a road trip, it felt great to be in the car again with friends, windows open, music blaring, and an abundance of snack foods.

With only minimal wrong turns (while Japanese road maps have route numbers, very few roads are actually sign posted), we made it to the visitor center at the base of Haguro-san (Black Feather Mountain). A friendly attendant chatted briefly with us, made a reservation for us at a nearby inn, and situated us with a map.



The path to the top of Haguro begins beneath a large red gatehouse. Passing through the gate, one is immediately immersed in old, primary forest--a breathtaking start, as if stepping into another realm. Much of Japan's native forest has been replaced with a mono-culture cedar, so it was a bit of a shock to see such a variety of trees and underbrush again. We were in such awe, we made it but a few steps before pulling out our cameras and snapping away.



From the gate, a stone pathway with some 2500 steps lead to the top of Haguro, where a collection of Shinto shrines await. Along the way, one passes by many other small shrines, an enormous pagoda, a 1400 year old cedar, a rest station with tea and snack service, and some truly beautiful, dense woods.



Reaching the summit, we passed through another red torii (gate), and found a large group of Japanese pilgrims, clad all in white, who were paying homage to the deities of the mountain.



Aaron, Michelle, and I strolled the grounds, snapping photos and mostly ignorant of the religious history of the mountain. However, for me, the ascent through the old woods was indeed spiritual and meditative. Amazing how one's mind wanders in the forest...



After a quick noodle lunch at one of the restaurant/gift shops, we returned down the mountain, lost again the trees and conversation, interrupted only by the chance to give encouragement to those still climbing in the late afternoon.

In Action

Links to photos of me teaching at Naruko Elementary School.

"What's your name?" relays and Head and Shoulders with 1st and 2nd graders


Alphabet sky-writing and races with 6th graders

Simple.

It's July 4th and I have just a month left in Japan. Though I have plenty of fun things to do before I leave, this past week I was overcome by an eagerness to return home. As my job here winds down, many of my thoughts have turned to seeing family and old friends again, as well as moving on to my next venture in Cambodia. I don't usually like to get ahead of myself, but with so much to look forward to, it has been hard not to...

However, today I had my final day of lessons at Naruko Elementary School. Though I've only taught a handful of times at this school, it has quickly become my favorite. For starters, they keep me busy almost the whole day, rather than the 3 free periods I receive at the JHS everyday. Also, the faculty room is more relaxed than the JHS (as are all the elementary schools I visit) and many of the teachers are extremely (excessively?) chatty. Additionally, one of the homeroom teachers has taken a proactive role in planning all of the lessons with me (usually I am on my at own at the primary schools). Oh! And the students are absolute gems, so much fun. I've discovered I only really need to do three things to succeed at the elementary level in Japan.

1) Win more often than I lose at Rock, Paper, Scissors. This game is insanely popular in Japan (I've heard it was invented here). They play to decide things, but more often just for the fun of it. Games are endless, and 8years olds cannot believe that I will throw Scissors 14 times in a row. But, I do. Also, never Paper (seriously, it "covers" rock?).

2) Sing and Dance Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes so fast that the kids fall down.

3) Sign autographs. Endlessly. One kid today had five on the same piece of paper and still wasn't satisfied.

But on to my point. Today after 3rd period with my 4th graders, two girls followed me out of the classroom and summoned the courage to whisper my name as I was walking down the stairs. They gave me a note in a small red envelope--at first glance I noticed the printed English writing on it, which said "Girlish Style". I chuckled, and asked if I could open it now. Embarrassed, the girls squirmed and told me to open it later. Finally after lunch I had a free minute and opened the envelope to find a very sweet note. It was written in Japanese, though on stationary with shamrocks and some more Engrish. At the top: "A trip creating memories. Is your mind fine?" and at the bottom: "Closer to your dreams when you shine ultimately". I chuckled again at the peculiar language, and then realized it was rather profound for a piece of stationary, especially at this point in my life. The note thanked me for teaching them and reminding me to stay safe and genki when I return home. Big, big smile. As I returned the note to its envelope, I saw another tidbit of English. It said, very simply, "*Enjoy where you are and what you have.*"

What more could I ever want?

Something to see...

At the recommendation of a friend, I just watched an independent film called Zeitgeist.

It is most eye-opening and thought provoking. On the website, a statement by the author/director??? declares: "it is my hope that people will not take what is said
in the film as the truth, but find out for themselves, for truth is not told, it is realized."

With that in mind, I encourage you to watch this film...