for some reason i was dreading my 4 straight hours of kids' classes today. that's the norm for Mondays, but today i just really... REALLY didn't want to do it.
but it was actually pretty good--all it takes is a new game sometimes. and when we were playing Hangman (a horrible game on so many levels in my opinion, but it kills time and the kids like it), one of my kids kept yelling "H! H!" to guess the letter.
which isn't that funny when one has little to no knowledge of dirty Japanese. but i do. the English letter "H" is a homonym for "eichi," which essentially means "fuck" or "pervert" or something to that effect. this brought on a barrage of giggles from the 11-year old kids in the class. and, since i'm much like a 12 year old myself, i started laughing too.
it all further confirms my belief that the secret to effectively molding young, moldy minds, lies in telling lots of dick and fart jokes.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
power lines
after about 2 weeks of shitting bricks over whether i'd be able to get a visa extension permit on such short notice, i finally went to the Immigration office today with my coworker and all the documents i needed. Kaori and i waited outside the drab grey door for the final 5 minutes of the officers' lunch break. despite the fact that most white-collar slaves here routinely shove seaweed and chemical-wrapped rice down their throats while checking e-mail and answering phone calls, one does NOT, under any circumstances, fuck with the lunch break of Japanese government workers. at precisely 1:00pm, the portly man in the blue suit with his shiny gold "Immigration" badge on his left pocket opened the tall grey door and said "hai, dozo."
the flourescent lights flicked on and the other portly man in the blue suit processed the papers of a 35-ish guy who, from what i could tell by glancing at his passport, was Chinese. from what Portly Government Stooge #1 could tell, all of my papers are in order. the government of Japan does indeed think there is a place for me in their fine country.
the Chinese national left with his materials while i filled out my own papers. then the Portly Government Stooges Numbers One and Two commenced the paranoia-inducing comments about my former company, in loud Japanese of course. now.... of course i didn't get everything they were saying, but my Japanese (and knowledge of human interaction for that matter) is good enough to know when people are shit-talking. and they definitely were. Kaori and i glanced at each other. she glanced disapprovingly at PGS#1&2 . i shot them a look that said "i understand everything you cunts are saying," which wasn't entirely true but they didnt' need to know that. eventually they shut up. (Kaori eventually told me they were making fun of the Chinese man who was in line next to me. a rather cunt-y thing to do while on lunch break behind the door that no one must enter between the hours of 12 and 1, let alone while on duty and in the presence of the people they were meant to be taking care of. cunt-y indeed.)
once i was finished writing, Kaori and i sat down on the chairs in the waiting area next to a young Filippina woman was playing with her child. the little girl immediately took to Kaori's bright smile, kind face, and 5-months pregnant belly.
"nansei desuka?" Kaori whispered. the little girl grinned and held up 3 fingers to indicate her age.
"usotsuki!" the young mother retorted. the girl looked down sheepishly and held up 2 fingers, caught in her innocent lie. Kaori's infectious laugh rang through the dour palace of bureaucracy.
later, as we were driving back to work with that precious stamp in my passport, i gazed through the power lines that ensnared the view of the fog of the sky intermingling with the white volcanic vapour of the earth and i thought to myself, "this place would be pretty fucking breathtaking if it weren't for all the damn power lines."
the flourescent lights flicked on and the other portly man in the blue suit processed the papers of a 35-ish guy who, from what i could tell by glancing at his passport, was Chinese. from what Portly Government Stooge #1 could tell, all of my papers are in order. the government of Japan does indeed think there is a place for me in their fine country.
the Chinese national left with his materials while i filled out my own papers. then the Portly Government Stooges Numbers One and Two commenced the paranoia-inducing comments about my former company, in loud Japanese of course. now.... of course i didn't get everything they were saying, but my Japanese (and knowledge of human interaction for that matter) is good enough to know when people are shit-talking. and they definitely were. Kaori and i glanced at each other. she glanced disapprovingly at PGS#1&2 . i shot them a look that said "i understand everything you cunts are saying," which wasn't entirely true but they didnt' need to know that. eventually they shut up. (Kaori eventually told me they were making fun of the Chinese man who was in line next to me. a rather cunt-y thing to do while on lunch break behind the door that no one must enter between the hours of 12 and 1, let alone while on duty and in the presence of the people they were meant to be taking care of. cunt-y indeed.)
once i was finished writing, Kaori and i sat down on the chairs in the waiting area next to a young Filippina woman was playing with her child. the little girl immediately took to Kaori's bright smile, kind face, and 5-months pregnant belly.
"nansei desuka?" Kaori whispered. the little girl grinned and held up 3 fingers to indicate her age.
"usotsuki!" the young mother retorted. the girl looked down sheepishly and held up 2 fingers, caught in her innocent lie. Kaori's infectious laugh rang through the dour palace of bureaucracy.
later, as we were driving back to work with that precious stamp in my passport, i gazed through the power lines that ensnared the view of the fog of the sky intermingling with the white volcanic vapour of the earth and i thought to myself, "this place would be pretty fucking breathtaking if it weren't for all the damn power lines."
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