Ohayo. Ohayo. New Jersey.

The first thing I did when I arrived in Sapporo was to go to Starbucks.  I proceeded to go to Starbucks, the same one at that, another four times while I was there.  I didn’t frequent Starbucks back in Seattle, in spite of the numerous giftcards I had for them. I didn’t even start drinking coffee until about a year ago when I moved into Seattle proper.  I preferred my Vivace and Stumptown there, granted I had many places to choose from in the city that made coffee cool.  Here, not so much.  A friend introduced me to a proper coffee shop in a neighboring town, but they only serve brewed coffee, albeit they do roast a wide variety of beans on a wee roaster they have in the foyer.  But when it comes to getting any espresso based drink, I am just S.O.L.  So, I quite relish the opportunity (understandably, I would think) for a decent soy latte when I visit the big city.  Lucky for me, the rumor mill says that I may be getting a Starbucks a little closer to home!  Hey, a Starbucks is better than nothing.

And a little comic relief:  http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=IGkkMl0rxnA

I used my trip out to Muroran as a good reason to go to Sapporo, after all, they’re only an hour and a half train ride apart.  This was my first time back in Sapporo since our orientation back in September.  I hadn’t been around so many people in a while so my venture into the main Sapporo station was a shock to the system.  Sapporo has just over two million people and one of the larger cities that I’ve been to.  Regardless, I think Sapporo is the bee’s knees.  I had three days to gallivant about the city in the beautiful fall weather.  For those three days, I had only one thing that I absolutely had to do: see the symphony. 

It has been a while since I’ve seen any major symphony perform.  In Seattle I would watch small semi-professional groups, but the last time I saw the Seattle Symphony was way back in 2002.  When I heard that the Sapporo Symphony would be playing Brahms’ Symphony No.4, I knew I had to go.  After all, one of the groups I was in last year is slated to play it in two weeks in Seattle.  The performance venue, Kitara Concert Hall, is located in a scenic city park, Nakajima Koen.  It was a little smaller than I thought, probably seated about 1500 people, but the layout was unique.  Not only did it have the most comfortable seats I’ve ever sat in for a concert hall, but there was seating behind the orchestra.  The hall has a section just behind and above the stage for the choir, but in addition to that, there’s seating flanking the choral seating.  That’s where I decided to sit.  As a musician, I get to watch a conductor quite often, but the audience only sees his back.  Here you can be in the audience and watch the conductor perform.  It’s an intriguing reversal, although the acoustics are a bit different from what I’m used to.  The program consisted of a late Dvorak overture, the Schumann Cello Concerto, and the Brahms.  I believe they had a guest conductor that night, Martin Turnovsky.  He was absolutely fabulous.  He conducted both the overture and the Brahms without a score!  Brilliant.  My seat wasn’t ideal for the concerto, but overall it was a great experience.  On a different note (ha!), as I was leaving the hall, a poor old man tripped over another poor old man and smacked face first onto the marble floor!  The hit resounded in the lobby and attendants rushed to help him.  He’s definitely going to need some reconstructive dentistry, but I’ve seen the teeth in Japan, so good luck with that! 

Later, I met up with Team Marimo, along with Chris, and we set out to find a good soup curry restaurant.  Soup curry is a Hokkaido phenomenon, but is very similar to the Thai dish, Tom Yum soup.  So Callie, being well…Callie, grabbed the nearest group of Japanese girls and asked them for directions.  Of course, we made friends with them and then answered the requisite questions about where we were from and whether we had girlfriends.  Next thing we know they offer to lead us to their favorite restaurant.  For those of you that are counting, this is the second time I’ve been led to a restaurant by the friendly Japanese folks here in Sapporo.  They’re so nice!  Along the way, they asked each of us boys to, “shake it!”  So in the middle of the subway stations of Sapporo, I “shook it” while a gaggle of girls watched from behind laughing hysterically.  Oh, don’t worry, we made a spectacle of ourselves, but not as much as the boys Callie later saw dancing in their underwear. 

One of the things that stood out to me most while in Sapporo this time around was the fashion.  It’s crazy, but fun crazy.  The girls all have bleached their hair so it’s a light blond/brown and they wear tons of make-up.  It’s all the rage here to look as Caucasian as possible, although that also translates into the possibility that you are a hooker (ah so it goes…but it still looks neato).  Also, they still seem to be fond of the “wear what my closet throws up on me” style, but the layers actually seem practical given the cooler weather.  Ugg boots are making a comeback here, but it’s only a small component of the sheik vagabond look, complete with short shorts, leggings and any combination of scarves, jackets, and hoodies.  And the guys…oh the guys!  They are all sporting big hair!  Big!  They look like anime characters lifted straight out of the movies.  They also bleach their hair, but not as light.  They call it “host hair” because many male escorts (hosts) wear their hair in that style.  I guess the bigger the hair the bigger the…well, that’s anyone’s guess.  I think next time I’m in Sapporo, I need to make it part of my agenda to create a photo album of the fashion there.  I was even a little inspired by it all and bought a scarf.

yeah. those are silver tights.

I was invited to be a guest at the Shimizugaoka High School English day in Muroran.  This high school used to be the equivalent of a magnet school for English, but its English emphasis program was disbanded a couple years ago when an English specialty high school opened in the area.  Luckily, the same teachers still stuck around so the students there have more English education opportunities than other high school students.  It took me about eight hours of travelling to get to Muroran, but time flew by, especially on the train.  I even got to watch an entertaining Japanese movie about a young high school trio that had aspirations to become a hip hop group (“ch-ch-check it out, yo!”). It’s always fun to come up with your own story line when you don’t understand the dialogue. 

English Day was to be from 9am to 3pm, so pretty much the whole day.  There were twelve guest English teachers, including me.  Most were from the US, but there were some from Canada, the UK, and Ireland.  First, we were introduced to the students and teachers on a small stage.  Each of us had to say a little about ourselves and then do a talent share.  I decided to teach the students some basic Mandarin and do a little Tae Kwon Do showcase.  I was wearing some tight-ish pants and was a little worried I might split a seam doing a kick, but thank god for Lycra-cotton blends.  After our introductions, we were treated to a series of productions put on by the varying English classes.  We watched a reproduction of Peter Pan, an English dubbing of a popular Japanese cartoon, and I even got to be a guest judge on “Apron of Love”—an Iron Chef-like cooking competition where the two special ingredients were capybara and marimo!  It was pretty awesome.  Of course, the English abilities weren’t flawless, but it was neat to see them input their own creativity into these presentations. 

One surprise for me was that Shimizugaoka High School has a sister school relationship with Mount Edgecumbe High School in Sitka, Alaska.  A small group of students had recently spent nine days in Sitka and gave a presentation of their experience.  After seeing all the differences Japan has for me, the tables turned as these students talked of differences America had for them (high shelving in the stores!).  Following lunch, we had about an hour to mingle with the students.  They were shy at first, but after a couple ice breaker questions, they became more comfortable…so much so that one student said that I should marry her—ah, ‘tis the burden of beauty!  Another treat was the musical performance the students gave us.  They performed an American Jazz song, some Disney standards(“I can show you the world…”), and traditional Japanese music.  I even got to play the shamisen!  English Day concluded with a sing-a-long to a Carpenters song I’ve never heard of, but was fun nonetheless. 

Being an audience can be hard work, so we capped our day with an enkai at what is hailed to be the best yakitori joint in all of Japan!  That’s quite the accolade to boast, but they sure met and exceeded my expectations.  We all know how much I love food, so this was like heaven for me.  And what enkai would be complete without a nijikai at a karaoke bar?  I’ve got to remember to request Journey the next time I’m out for karaoke.

Team Marimo, along with Chris and Rob, went for a little weekend excursion into the northern hinterlands of Japan.  We carpooled along Hokkaido’s northern coast, hugging the Sea of Ohkotsk in the dark and heavy rain.  In spite of nearly making roadkill of a rather large deer, we made it to Wakkanai (Japan’s northernmost city) safe and sound.  The primary purpose of this trip was to see Rebun and Rishiri, two islands off the northwestern coast known for their beauty.  We actually had this trip planned for several weeks.  Originally, we were going to climb Rishiri-Fuji, which in itself would be quite the feat for a novice climber such as myself.  But as luck would have it, Rishiri got a ton of snow that previous week so we decided to scrap that idea, in spite of the potential for badass-edness, and go to Rebun island instead (no mountains there, just hills and some cool flowers, which happen to no longer be in bloom at that time…). 

So we took off early in the morning to catch the first ferry into Rebun.  As I may have mentioned before, any sort of public transportation in Japan runs like clockwork.  The trains and buses are ALWAYS on time.  The same can be extended to the ferry system.  So needless to say, we had little to no room for error in timing our arrival at the ferry.  We planned on catching the 6:50am ferry and left our lodgings with plenty of time to spare.  Here’s a little play by play:

6:40am:  Pull into a gravel parking lot next to a boat that we assume to be the ferry (drive to the ferry area takes longer than expected).

6:41am:  We book it over to the boat and John hightails it up some stairs and on to the ferry…where do we get tickets?

6:42am:  Wait a second…there’s no one on this boat AND it’s still moored to the dock.

6:44am:  Oh…there’s another ferry over there at an opposite dock.

6:45am:  Return to vehicle and vroom over to the real ferry terminal.

6:49am:  Five funny looking foreigners make a mad dash into the ferry station and are able to sweet talk their way into getting tickets. 

6:51am:  Crazy gaijin sprint onto the gangplank, which is pulled up immediately behind them. 

6:52am:  Those people (us) cause ferry to leave 2 minutes late.  Success!  And time for a nap.

After the excitement of the morning, we expected the rest of the day to go smoothly.  While on the ferry we planned to rent some bikes and hike the island’s tallest hill and then make it back with PLENTY of time to spare before the last ferry leaves.  Well, when we got to Rebun, we soon discovered that in fact, we had to call in advance to get the bikes…so no luck there.  So, instead, we just walked into town and up some stairs and were able to find a trailhead.  We spent about five hours hiking hills and valleys and coastal cliffs and covered most of the southern part of the island.  We had pretty much the whole island to ourselves since tourist season had just wrapped up.  It was beautiful. 

After finishing our hike we made it back to the ferry and slept our way back to Wakkanai.  Upon our return, we soaked in an onsen overlooking the harbor.  Afterward, we found a hole-in-the-wall okonomiyaki (Japanese cabbage pancakes) joint that was run by a matronly woman who had us talk to her 5 year old granddaughter over the phone.  We were later joined by group of Japanese folks who were celebrating something.  After some broken Engrish and some fun attempts at smart-ass Japanese (international exchanges galore!) they bought us a round of drinks as a night cap.

Oh, I forgot to mention that Wakkanai, along with the other port towns in Hokkaido, sees a large influx of Russians.  While there seems to be some accommodations catering to Russians, such as multilingual signage, there is some animosity against them.  Apparently they can be raucous guests, and lets not forget about the historical tensions between the two nations.  Some places have altogether banned Russians (and Russian-looking people, aka white people) from using their facilities (“We just tell them to, you know…shoo.”) I find this ironic because I am sure some of these port-town businesses depend on the patronage of their Russian guests. 

On our last day in Wakkanai, we drove over to Cape Soya, the northernmost point in Japan.  It was extremely windy with near hurricane-force winds, but the skies were clear and we could see the southern tip of Sakhalin (Russia!…again).  By the way, you can expect to see my name on the ballot in the VP slot for the next election.  On the way out of Wakkanai, we ate at a restaurant succinctly named “Russian Restaurant.”  No rice and soba here.  I had some borscht, beet and potato salad, and a piroshky, all ordered in Japanese of course.  Lastly we ventured to the Breakwater Dome, which many tourist books highlight as a “must see” in Wakkanai.  I’m afraid I must break with the tour books and say this place sucked.  It wasn’t even a dome.  It was just a straight half-archway that ran for about 300 meters.  That’s it.  You can’t even walk on it.  Given that this “highlight” was a bust, Wakkanai doesn’t have much else, except for some neat windmills.  So, maybe that’s why its name sounds like the casual Japanese phrase for “I don’t know.”

Japan is one of the most, if not the most, technologically advanced countries on the planet.  In spite of this, their banking system is archaic.  Their ATMs can do most anything under the sky, but mine is only open until 5pm and only on weekdays, and with Japan being a cash-based society, this can be quite the caveat.  Oh, and the actual bank closes at 3:00pm everyday…just a little spice to throw in there for all that last  minute banking.  Forget about online banking as well.  Apparently Japan doesn’t believe in that.  So here in Japan, it’s not unusual for me to have the equivalent of $300 US on me at any given moment.  One might tend to worry about carrying that much cash, but any sort of crime here is extremely rare, even in the cities.  And, just in case, I’ve got a black belt (that’s right). 

One aspect that I do applaud is being able to pay for bills at the convenience store (conbini).  I can pay all of my utility bills at my local 7-Eleven.  I get a piece of paper in the mail from the utility and it has a barcode on it.  I just take that on over to the conbini, hand it to the cashier, pay for the bill like I would pay for a bag of chips, and I’m good to go.  In addition to bills, I can buy plane, train, and concert tickets at a little automated kiosk in the conbini.  Granted, it’s all in Japanese, but after the first go around, you get the hang of it.  Another way to pay for bills is the good ole direct withdrawal.  The problem is actually setting it up.  For my cell phone there were oodles of paperwork (like everything in Japan) and it was all in Japanese.  Messing around with my bank account isn’t exactly what I want to do in a language I barely understand…so I’ll stick to the conbini.  At least there, I can pick up some snacks while I pay my bills.

Prior to moving out here, I tried doing some research to see if there were any orchestras or small chamber groups active in the area.  When I emailed a couple of the older JETs that had been here for a while, they said that they didn’t know of any.  I tried searching the internet, but could only find websites mentioning various brass bands.  When I first arrived, I mentioned wanting to play in an orchestra, but no one really knew of any opportunities.  I saw that all the schools had wind ensemble programs, yet no string programs…surely, I was doomed.   Was there really no orchestra for a city with around 150,000 people in the area?  This couldn’t be—in the land that produced Midori and Seiji Ozawa?  Inconceivable. 

One day my middle school principal presented me with a glimmer of hope—he gave me a flyer for an upcoming concert featuring the local chamber orchestra.  Aha!  They do exist!  So after a couple weeks of wheeling and dealing with my contacts, I was able to sit in with the orchestra.  Alright…so I use the term “orchestra” very lightly for this group.  It’s the bare bones of a chamber orchestra and their ability isn’t the highest but it’ll certainly do.  Besides, they’re playing Dvorak in November so I can’t pass that up. 

For such a small orchestra, they’re quite the busy bees.  They have rehearsal twice a week and they have random performances all over the board.  The major concert isn’t until November, but they just had a children’s concert and will be performing Faure’s “Requiem” in two weeks.  They also have ringers that come in for dress rehearsals and performances.  I think one of the French horn players plays with the Sapporo Symphony…looks like I need to make a new friend!  The concert coming up in November, their first major concert of the season, will have a von Weber overture, the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, and Dvorak’s Symphony No.7.  Sugoi! 

And now, a word on how I actually attempt to get by in rehearsals where no one speaks any English:

Although music may be an international language, actually communicating how to rehearse and play the music is not.  I thought I would be able to get by just fine since most stylistic comments can be conveyed via the Italian used on the actual music.  Ah, no.  I’ve had a hell of a time trying to figure out: a) the logistics of rehearsals, i.e. where, when, announcements b) where to start after we stop  c) whether to play faster or slower  d) what movement we’re beginning with e) if I’m supposed to be playing right at the moment or not for rehearsing specific sections.  Hmm…needless to say, I generally make several blatant mistakes within the course of minutes.  I try to latch on to numbers that I hear (measure numbers), any Japanicized Italian (stylistic remarks), and the names of specific instruments (who plays when).  Luckily, I have a good grasp of what a typical orchestra rehearsal is like.  So with that, and with some helpful broken-English hints from my neighbors, I manage to stumble my way through.

To contrast with the orchestra, I was recently invited to my predecessor’s violin teacher’s house to play some chamber music with her husband.  First, their English abilities were enough to have decent communication.  Also, there’s something about these more intimate musical settings that cater to unspoken communication.  The night was like a revival of chamber music nights I used to have back in Seattle with my friends, except it was with old people…and there was tea and quiche instead of booze and brownies.  We dabbled in some duets and a couple trios, including a Dvorak piece I had played in college.  It was a great night and they invited me to play in a quintet with them.  They’ve got a major concert coming up in March next year.  It’ll be Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons,” but instead of the harpsichord, it’ll be played with the koto.  Wicked.

I went from having no classical music resources, to being up to my elbows in playing opportunities.  I can’t complain…except when I have to dig up the old phrase, “I can’t, I have rehearsal.”

Kurt Cobain may have been on to something…or on something, but whenever I walk into my high school here in Japan, I know that it is a high school.  The standard uniforms, the sharply dressed teachers, and the students’ demeanor all are sharply distinct from my middle school.  Having a brother that just graduated from high school, I don’t feel all that removed from it, even though for me it started over ten years ago.  Apparently though, this high school is a favorite of the local JETs.  It’s a commercial high school so the academic performance of the students isn’t very high, however their enthusiasm isn’t diminished.  Of course there are the students that sleep through class and then there are the chatty ones, but what high school doesn’t have that?  I think my biggest issue is the fact that I have to talk over the students in one of my classes.  The teacher likes to say that that particular class is “enegetic.”  In my opinion, I’d call them something else, but that’s a bit of old-fashioned Japanese understatement for you, eh?  In spite of being “energetic,” the students have very close relationships with the teachers.  They joke with each other and even give each other jocular punches and jovial pats.  It’s no wonder that the students spend so much time here.  Seriously, they don’t go home until 6pm. 

During my first couple of days I noticed a contrast between how the students reacted to me.  The girls wouldn’t flee my presence with giddiness and the boys mostly played it cool.  Uh-oh!  I thought I would have to put my charm, good looks, and sporting abilities into overdrive as they would definitely be a tougher crowd than my middle school students.  But after a couple classes, I could hear the girls giggle with excitement when I acknowledge them in the halls, but only after I turn a corner.  I even have one student insisting that I call her “Honey.”  As for the guys, they are still a tough crowd, but I’m making some headway.  They’re fun to chat with after school and you can see the gears turning as they try to formulate questions for me with what English skills they have. 

One major difference between high school here and mine back in the day is the uniform.  I never had to wear a uniform while I was in school.  I remember school discussions on the topic of uniforms.  Of course, many students were opposed to them decrying, “You’ll take away our individuality!” all the while looking to their peers for acknowledgment.  I, although not as vehement as some of my classmates, thought similarly.  Thinking back however, if I had had to make the switch to a uniform, it probably wouldn’t have been the worst thing.  First, there’s the perk of not having to pick out your clothes in the morning.  It might even engender feelings of unity and school pride.    Besides, I think I would have looked pretty snazzy in slacks, a tie, and a sport coat.  I could have discovered J.Crew at an earlier age! 

One component of middle school that I miss at the high school is the school lunch.  High schools don’t do the sit-down lunch together where everyone eats the same thing.  Our students either bring their lunch, purchase it at school from an interesting array of baked goods, or eat nothing at all.  I usually purchase some of the baked goods, which sometimes consists of a katsu sandwich of some sort and a fried curry dumpling.  Oh and I can’t forget about the chocolate custard-filled doughy thing.  I’ve got to watch my figure, you know.  Luckily, I just discovered a nearby supermarket that sells lunch packs supplied by a local Indian restaurant.  Now I can just eat fried naan and curry.  It’s ethnic so it has to be good for me!

Lastly, I assist in an after school club called the English Speaking Society (ESS).  It’s a small group of five students and I am currently assisting three of them to prepare for a speech competition.  Basically, the competition judges how well they can do a prepared speech in their best, non-Japanese sounding English.  This is quite the undertaking.  There are so many sounds and nuances in the English language that are not used at all in Japanese.  For instance, the word, “world.”  That “orl” combination is EXTREMELY difficult for them to pronounce.  You know how the Japanese have difficulty (understatement) pronouncing r’s and l’s (Elic Crapton), so now combine them both into one syllable…hmmm, the world might as well implode.  Nonetheless, even after I drill them on a single word over and over again, they still come back ready to do it again until they get it right.  I’ve got to admire that.