Today I ate bacon for the first time since Christmas. It was delicious. I fried up three succulent pieces and put them on my egg-and-cheese sandwich. Japan has “bacon,” sure, but it’s not real bacon. It’s, like, Europe bacon.

No country in the world gets bacon right besides the US. But enough about bacon. Bacon isn’t the point.

The point is, I bought the bacon through a special order. It was actually a huge side of bacon, frozen. I thawed it, cut the slab into quarters, and re-froze three of them. The fourth quarter I will slowly enjoy, slice by slice, this week. The order also included three packs of hot dogs and a little Italian salami.

The total was about $60. (Bear in mind it also took a special order and delivery time.)

How much would you pay for your favorite beer? I drank a Sam Adams over the weekend. I took it out of a case I have sitting in my closet. The case cost about $100, making the cost of each bottle just over $4. I also had to wait about three weeks for it to be delivered to the store, and then I had to pick it up from the store.

Sound expensive? Let’s put this in perspective. The cost per bottle was 400 yen. The cheapest I have ever found it at a bar is 650 yen. I have found it at three bars in three cities.

How much would you pay for a pizza? A few weeks ago, my friends and I ordered take-out pizza. I bought a large one, realizing that I would refrigerate the extra and enjoy it later. It cost about $30.

How much would you pay for Chipotle? Or McDonald’s? A McDonald’s meal here costs about 650 yen, maybe $7.25. But when I’m homesick, nothing reminds me of home quite like that tribute to American obesity. And Japan doesn’t have Chipotle, but I know a restaurant in Osaka that makes Chipotle-style burritos. The burrito, chips and coke will cost you about $9.50 (not counting the time and money it takes to get there).

Are those prices too high? (Don’t forget to calculate travel without a car and the time it takes.) You have to put it in perspective- how much do you value those things?

Living in Japan has taught me a very important lesson: appreciation. Appreciation helps you justify struggling through broken Japanese to make a special order of your favorite beer. Appreciation convinces you to bulk-order bacon, then enjoy it slowly over two or three months. Appreciation teaches you that if something you love costs more, maybe you should enjoy it less often but with more attention.

Additionally, many items in Japan are expensive (not just foreign foods). Example: $2 for an apple. Japan is also a gift-giving culture. It’s extremely common for people to give consumables as gifts. All of this taught me to really appreciate all food, even if it’s not what you “wanted.” I appreciate the food itself, not to mention the person’s very real sacrifice in giving it to me.

Appreciation also taught me to enjoy other things: my kerosene heater in the winter, the coming of spring when I can finally enjoy being outdoors, an hour of air conditioning on a hot August day, cold showers in summer, the advantages and disadvantages that come with each season, a clear morning when you’re biking to work.

So I’d like to ask you something as you sit there in your daily grind. You’re working the same job, seeing the same people, dealing with the same problems every day. But there’s beauty to be seen and something to enjoy in every day of your life, if you only take the time. So what can you appreciate today?

I walked out my door a little early this morning, ready to get to school for an early meeting. I went downstairs to hop on my bike only to discover-

My bike was gone.

That’s right, my new bike, given to me by the Board of Education not one month ago, gone. Vanished. I surveyed the other bikes for a minute, making sure that no one had simply moved it. But no- it was gone. I pulled out my cell phone to call my school to notify them I would be late, then started walking to the train station. (My phone died shortly thereafter, but that’s another story.)

After some back-and-forth phone calls (office phone) and translation assistance, my boss and I decided we would meet during the lunch hour to go to the police office and file a report. I have a new boss who does not speak English, but everything went fine once we got to the police office.

I can’t really compare the process of filing a police report in Japan versus America because I’ve never filed a report in America. So I’ll just tell you how it went. I sat down with a person (not sure if he was a police officer or an office worker). He and my boss talked for a little bit (since the bike is the Board’s property, not my own). Then they asked me some basic questions, like when I discovered the bike missing this morning and when I last saw it (which was yesterday when I got home). They pulled out a map-book of the area and located my apartment, then photocopied the page and had me draw an X exactly where I left the bike. I also had to indicate my direction of travel to get to that spot. Of course, they asked me if I locked the bike. (I had, in fact, put two locks on it.) Then they had me sign the map near the X I drew. Then, they asked if I had my inkan, or personal seal. I have one, but I didn’t have it on me at the time, so I told them no. Then they actually had me put ink on my finger and use my fingerprint as an inkan. Pretty interesting.

I doubt I’ll be getting my bike back, but who knows. The Board of Education will probably buy me another one shortly, or at least provide some kind of replacement because I need it to travel to some schools. In the meantime, my commutes will be a little longer.

One time, awhile ago, I had a deck of trading cards stolen from me. I felt pretty pissed off then. But I’m not too angry about the bike. I’m actually more angry about the commuting inconvenience than the theft itself. But I didn’t buy the bike. I’m sure if it was my money that was now tangibly gone, I’d be very pissed off.

The important thing to note here, is that safe does not mean crime free.

New Photos

Beer Video I

Beer Video II

Right about now, many American teens and their previously unaware parents are going to see Hollywood’s (hopefully) next large franchise: The Hunger Games. The movie is based on the recent novel trilogy, in which the authoritarian government of a futuristic, ruined North America places randomly selected children into an arena and forces them to fight to the death.

Sound familiar? It should.

In 1999, a Japanese novel called Battle Royale was published. It’s author: a man named Koushun Takami. The novel is about the authoritarian government of a future Japan which randomly selects a junior high school class, puts them on a deserted island and forces them to fight to the death.

In both novels, only the sole survivor will go home alive.

Right now, there’s lots of talk of, “Hunger Games totally ripped of Battle Royale. Hunger Games is better. Battle Royale is better. Blah blah blah.” It’s really not that simple. Let’s start with the most obvious: is Hunger Games a rip-off, bordering plagerism, of Battle Royale?

Absolutely not. The worlds of both novels are completely different. Hunger Games also creates a… culture for the ruined North America. The author is clearly trying to create a fully-imagined fictional world, similar to Harry Potter with its vocabulary and social norms. In contrast, Takami’s future Japan in Battle Royale is… well, pretty much Japan today, which is his point.

Also, the rules of the games are different. In Battle Royale, there must be one kill at least every 24 hours, and if the game is not completed in three days no one will go home. In Hunger Games, there is no time limit and the game can go on for weeks (and it does). Additionally, in Hunger Games the players can receive assistance from outside the game (a rule that I did not particularly enjoy at all). In Battle Royale, once the game is in motion that’s it. The players have only the items at hand to live with.

But the biggest difference between the two is the love story. Hunger Games is clearly written for adolescent girls. The first novel establishes a cliche “heroine who sets up her walls and doesn’t let anyone in,” the very person that most adolescent girls secretly want to be. She successfully cuddles with a boy with no sexual play and establishes a love triangle while hunting for food and trying to start an insurrection against an authoritarian government (allegory for overbearing parents and the demands of high school? Quite possibly).

In contrast, Battle Royale has far more commentary regarding human nature and society, comments which, though present in Hunger Games, are clearly not the focus. Battle Royale’s love story is present, but also much more realistic and muted (again, similar to Japanese contemporary culture).

One final note: the points of view. Hunger Games is written in first-person, allowing the reading to intensely experience the protagonist’s point of view. But this has two main flaws. Number one, this means that about 75% of the deaths of the other players are largely unexplained. They simply die and that’s it. Additionally, we don’t know much about those characters to begin with. Number two, the main character isn’t all that interesting anyway- why would you want to get to know her? She’s basically a caricature of angsty teenage daughters across the US.

In contrast, Battle Royale is written in a third-person perspective, allowing the point of view to travel to where the action is. The deaths of 43 junior high school students are described in detail. Literally every minute of the game is covered. Additionally, the background stories of all the main characters and most supporting characters are covered. This gives the reader a very interesting experience of cheering for the “good guys” while, at the same time, sympathizing with the “bad guys.”

Yeah, sometimes when I’m teaching my junior high kids, I look around the room at their young, sweet, innocent faces and I wonder, “Would they?…”

So which one should you read?

Battle Royale, definitely. It’s the first book I ever read twice, and it’s the first book that ever got me to intensely experience an emotion. That emotion was paranoia.

Hunger Games is good entertainment. But that’s all it is. It’s social commentary and lasting impression are not nearly as strong as Battle Royale. That being said, it’s clearly well-written. It is a solid book, and will keep you busy if nothing else.

It’s better than Twilight, at least.

Have you ever seen a graphic on a package and thought, “Who could be so stupid as to not understand how to use this?” The answer: me.

And you.

Stuff’s different here. And of course I can’t read (much) Japanese. If those graphics weren’t on the package, my noodles would have been awful.

What you’re supposed to do: First, you open the package. Inside, there’s two packets- one of seasoning and one of sauce. You remove both packets, then add boiling water up to the line on the inside of the styrofoam pack. You close the lid and let it sit for three minutes (I usually put my chopsticks on top to keep the steam in). Then you use a special vent on the lid to dump the water out. Then, you add the seasoning and sauce, stirring. Then you eat. Pretty good.

What I would have done:  I would have added the sauce and seasoning immediately, then added the hot water. Then I would’ve closed the lid and opened the special vent to let out the steam. Then I would have waited a bit, then eaten soupy, nasty noodles.

Stuff like this happens all the time. It’s very interesting, being illiterate. I’m very smart, college educated and just happen to be fluent in English. But here, that doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes, the simplest things like making noodles or using an appliance can be crippling. It’s something we take for granted. The next time you’re doing a mundane task, ask yourself, “If I was doing this for the first time and I couldn’t read English, could I do this?”

Him: Do you have any other problems/concerns?

Me: My TV is broken.

Him: Oh. When did it break?

Me: September.

Him: Ah! Why didn’t you say something?

Me: I couldn’t speak Japanese until now.

My morning began by taking a 25-minute train ride to another prefecture (prefecture = Japanese state), then taking a twenty-minute bus ride to the mall. Certainly different from the typical shopping experience I was used to in my home in Northern Virginia.

I was on a quest for some simple items: a white dress shirt, a pair of jeans and maybe some snacks from the foreign food store. I made my way to a department store, selected the kind of shirt I wanted, then went to a store clerk and said (pointing to the size on the shirt), “すみません。あの。。。　シャツはかいたい、でもにほんのばんごをわからない。”　(If you speak Japanese, don’t tell the people at home how bad my Japanese it. They’re impressed.) “Excuse me, um… I want to buy a shirt, but I don’t understand Japanese numbers [sizes].” Everything’s in centimeters. The sales clerk measured me and I tried on the shirt. I bought it a few minutes later.

After that, I was hungry so I wandered over to the food court. Amidst the Japanese-style restaurants was a KFC, and I was suddenly hit with a craving of food from home. But after reviewing the menu and seeing that they didn’t have biscuits, I decided it wasn’t worth it. What’s KFC without biscuits? (KFC in Japan, apparently.) Instead, I headed to the first floor, where I went to Mr. Donut (a copy of Dunkin Donuts, but with more affordable coffee). I had a donut and two cups of coffee (free refills).

Then I wandered through several stores looking for jeans. I was looking for a solid pair of denim, deep navy, no stupid trendy patterns or tears. Jeans are like a partner in crime. You can’t just wear any old jeans, especially when you’re a guy a like me- a guy who likes to break-in and fade his own jeans, instead of buying ones pre-faded. I was going to have these jeans for a few years. It’s a big decision.

After several stores didn’t meet my high standards (do I have commitment problems?), I spotted the Levi store. I wandered in, where I saw the American staple of jeans on sale for the price of… 11,000 yen (approximately $120). No, thanks. I walked into another store where they had Lee jeans on sale for the more reasonable price of 6,000 yen (approximately $70). But I’ve never been a fan of the fit of Lee jeans, so I left jeanless.

Finally, I decided I’d check out the foreign food store. This store has a lot to offer, but it’s usually ridiculously packed. Today was no exception. The cramped aisles only add to the experience. As I walked around the store, careful to not knock over expensive bottles of hot sauce or pesto with my bag, I checked out their options. As good as this store is, it’s not like a Super H Mart in the States (oh God if only it was…). It’s a gourmet store. So that means super-deluxe coffees (the store is primarily a coffee shop), expensive cheeses, candy, and condiments. They also have plenty of wine and a little bit of beer, but alas, no Sam Adams. In the end, I bought two packages of tortilla shells, three bags of tortilla chips (much smaller than US bags), and a jar of salsa, for the completely reasonable price of 2,300 yen (approximately $28). Though all the items are available in my town, here they are cheaper, the salsa and chips taste better, and the tortilla shells are larger and contain 10 per pack instead of 5.

Also in the foreign food store was the only other white person I spotted that day. I nodded to him and asked, “How’s it going?” The accent in his response told me he was not American; possibly German. (The only other foreigner I saw in the mall was an Indian woman.)

All of this shopping might seem like a pain to you. Forty-five minutes to get to the mall, expensive foreign foods (btw, it’s a reality check when you have to go to the foreign food store to buy stuff you’re used to), and then you have to carry everything home on the bus and train because you don’t own a car. But it has some good points as well. Because shopping generally takes longer than it does in the States, you spend a lot more time thinking about what you want to buy instead of impulse buying. You also consider creative alternatives, like eating local-style food or trying out local fashion. It’s also healthier because, hey, you have to walk everywhere to get what you want, then walk it home.

From there, the principal dispenses diplomas first. The homeroom teacher reads the names of the students as the students walk to the stage and take their diplomas, then sit back down. No one applauds until the very end. After that, the principal and several higher-ups from the Education Board make remarks to the students. I’m obviously not sure what they said, but I’m sure it was something like, “Congratulations on this magnificent achievement, work hard in high school, etc.”

After that, though, comes things you wouldn’t expect.

First, the 3rd years file to the stage. They stand on an arrangement of stands, chorus-style, and stand facing the crowd. Boys and girls are on different sides of the stage. Then, the students address the crowd. In unison, they address the crowd. Then, one student says something. Then another. Then another, as if it’s all rehearsed. I’m assuming they wrote a script beforehand to make sure they didn’t talk over each other. I also assume they are thanking the parents, teachers and fellow students for support.

After that, the 2nd years stand and file to stand in front of the 3rd years. The 2nd years, similar to the 3rd years’ address, speak in unison in the beginning and then break apart, speaking student-by-student. They kept saying せんぱい (senpai) over and over, so I assume they were thanking the 3rd years for being wonderful senpai.

Senpai is a word that means, kind of, “older friend and quasi-leader.” Older children are expected to look after younger children and teach them the ropes. It’s kind of like the American idea of “being shown the ropes,” but being a senpai is an expecting, a responsibility. In America, it’s sort of optional. You’re doing someone a favor by showing them the ropes in America; in Japan, you are expected to be a senpai.

While all of this is going on, random sniffling breaks out among the 3rd year girls’ side as some cry.

After all that, the 3rd years sing a song. It’s basically the Japanese version of “Friends Forever” by Vitamin C, but much more famous. Everyone knows it, sings it.

Listen to the song here (LINK).

After the conclusion, the 3rd years file out of the gym. Shortly afterward the other students follow, then the faculty addresses parents. I assume they are thanking the parents for their devotion to their children. Then the parents leave, followed by the big-wigs from the Educational Board. At this point, I’m returning bows with these leaders and basically doing what all the other teachers are doing.

Another important thing to note is that the students (1st and 2nd year) set up and clean up for the entire ceremony. So plastic on the gym floor, chairs, arranging flowers, setting up the stage and moving all of the band equipment is done by the students.

Additionally, everyone is wearing business attire, but they leave their shoes on the door and wear slippers inside. It’s very interesting to see everyone wearing very nice, professional clothing and ridiculous footwear. Also, you cannot wear even slippers on the stage, so whenever someone is giving a speech or a student receives their diploma, they are wearing socks. Very different from America.