Welcome!

This blog details the life and thoughts of James Simpson, an English language teacher living in Kawasaki, Japan. James has previously blogged at Abduction Politics and I, Shingen. Here you will find commentary on his travels, his thoughts about books, games or movies, as well as his commentary on political or social events. You can read more about James here and you can view his photoblog over at Camera in Japan.

Socials, Snow and Sickness

It’s Monday, my day of rest. Much deserved too, I think.

On Friday, January 29th, I went to my first ever tweet-up. After finishing work, I rushed over to Yoyogi-Uehara to catch the tail-end of the party. There, the hardcore contingent of Japan twitterers were over-drinking and over-talking. It was nice to meet the avatars in the flesh, and they were all lovely people (and eminently more successful than me – but hey, they have age and time in their favour). I couldn’t stay out too late, what with an early start the next morning, but I was grateful for being able to attend: thanks to all the #youguys, but especially Fukumimi – for his good taste in organising the shindig – and Shinpuren – for inviting me.

The next day was my final Saturday in Kokubunji School. It was a bit tear-jerking for me. I loved that day, and some of my favourite students were there. I received loads of presents – thank you everyone! – including the wonderful inking of the church in Motomachi you can see on the right. My change of days was entirely internal. My branch of the company recently merged with the northern branch, and in the merger came a big reshuffle of our districts. Kokubunji has swapped districts and I can no longer work there (my Wednesday there will also change in the near future).

After work, I again rushed off for a nomikai. Okay, not so much rushed, but dawdled. I had 1 hour and 40 minutes to kill for a 50 minute train journey… too little time to go home and change, too much time to be comfortable. This particular get-together was with Musashi-Shinjo School students. Despite not actually working there, I did attend Shinjo’s Christmas Party as a teacher from Saginuma school. At that party, largely due to how close I live to their students, I was the last teacher standing and I made some good friendships as a result. Saturday was our shinnenkai and I was out until 3am with only two (awake) other people – three were sleeping. It was nice to get out again, to drink to excess and to chat about the most random things. The food was great too!

Unfortunately, Sunday was filled with queasy moments and a rotten hangover. Oh, and copious amounts of blood. Not mine, though. Ebichu was in dire need of a manicure. We’ve had him for over a year now and we’d never clipped his nails. Instead I attached small strips of sand paper to his wheel and ramps to grind it down a bit (with seemingly no effect on his tiny little feet). Still, they had grown long and unmanageable (possibly due to his lethargic response to winter) so we took him to our local vet for a trim. The nurse held him by the scruff of his neck and he struggled around. The doctor managed to cut a few ends off, but then Ebichan decided he wouldn’t have any more of it. As he wriggled around to escape, the nurse tried to secure him and must have hurt him in the process because he bit her – just once. There was quite a lot of blood but the doctor showed the nurse a better way to hold him and they got the job done with no further injuries – although Ebichu came out a lot redder than when he went in. Poor baby!

By the next day I was as right as rain and so I pulled together my camera equipment and went out for a walk. Unfortunately, while it’s a nice bright sunny day today, last week was dark, dull and very grey. I knew it was going to rain and there was even talk of snow, so I packed an umbrella and headed out regardless. My destination was Todoroki Valley, a gorge running through through Tokyo just on the other side of the river from me. The actual location is very nice, but it was difficult to appreciate it on such a cold, dank day. I will definitely be heading back there at a later date. I finished my walk with a trek to the train station. It was spitting and getting cold, and I had a Japanese lesson to attend.

Following my lesson, I was back on the train, this time to Yokohama to meet Keiko and her colleagues for dinner. We had kushiage, fried skewered food. It was really nice, and the service was great too. For five people, we got a window-side booth and a free bottle of champagne. As we ate, the much-anticipated snow began to fall. At first it came down in tiny spots, barely distinguishable from the rain, but the snowflakes grew bigger and bigger leaving wet splodges wherever they landed. It was all very pretty, but walking home in it was hell. Keiko and I arrived back very cold and soaked to the bone. It wasn’t very surprising that I woke up with a sore throat.

As I worked, the sore throat developed into a full blown cold. I felt energetic the next morning, but again, by the afternoon I was close to death. I wisely took off the Thursday to recover, although that’s easier said than done when the temperature difference between the outside and inside of your home is as marginal as it is here. Still, by Friday I felt well enough to work, just in time for my new day in Machida on Saturdays.

Finally, yesterday, Keiko and I decided to celebrate Valentines early. We headed off to Nihonbashi for a kimono exhibition (I got free tickets from a student). It was interesting but, you know, it was embroidery, hardly the most engaging subject for a man. We followed this up with delicious gelato from the Valentines chocolate fair being held on the same floor of Takashimaya as the kimono exhibition.

I was eager to pick out my Valentines presents, so I dragged Keiko over to Yodobashi Camera in Akihabara. It’s the biggest Yodobashi Camera I’ve ever been to, and it was packed out. We mingled around the Wii section for a while as I debated what to buy – in the end I chose Smash Bros Brawl, Wii Sports Resort and an extra motion-plus accessory. I then took Keiko downstairs for some replacement headphones.

These were the appetisers to our main event: dinner in the Shin-Marunouchi Building. We booked a table at Deliziôso Firenze (5th floor) and sat down for a well-priced course – ¥5800. For the second time in as many months we were eating real truffles and foie gras (this time fried, and much nicer). The service was excellent and we had a great time: Keiko was already starting to plan our next visit as we headed over to the neighbouring Marunouchi Building for chasers (Breeze of Tokyo, 35F, ¥1050/head cover charge). I highly recommend both to anyone in the Tokyo area with a bit of cash and a desire for great service.

It’s a stressful time at the moment for Keiko, and I hope she had a chance to relax. The evening didn’t end on such a good note as Keiko found out her colleague has come down with swine flu… so while my tough week has just finished, Keiko’s has barely even begun. Hang in there, honey.

Unnoticed Progress

I recently noticed that my Japanese has improved considerably since I arrived here 18 months ago. I can understand a majority of what I hear now and, even if I don’t completely understand it, I usually get the gist of it. I’m not sure what hit me first: the fact that I can chat with shop staff with few major problems, or the fact that I can get by pretty well here.

I’ve still got a long way to go, but it’s heartening to have cleared my most immediate goals (e.g. to understand the people I have to interact with daily, or be able to chat with Keiko’s family on a basic level). Now I have to concrete and reinforce my knowledge with further practice and study.

I’m still undecided as to how I’ll do that, but this year I decided to try to get something to show for my effort. As a New Year’s resolution, I promised myself that I would take N5 (most basic level) of the Japanese Language Proficiency Test as a crutch upon which to build my flakey confidence. I would certainly pass it, and I’d like to think I could do it without much trouble either. However, my teacher is pushing me to take the next level up. It’s a challenge, but it’s exactly what I need to get out of my current study rut (as the only good thing about the JLPT is that I forces you to study; practically it lacks the spoken and written elements of a more useful test of one’s proficiency).

Anyway, besides the personal implications, of finally recognising my progress, it has struck me how difficult it might be to pick up on the gradual progression of my students. I have a number of students who have made swift progress through the levels, but one of the dangers of the eikaiwa teaching environment (i.e. hour-long weekly lessons) is that you quickly begin to believe that your students aren’t going anywhere. I will certainly admit to feeling that way about housewives, who I suspect feel that simply being in an (semi-) English-speaking environment once a week is enough to push one’s abilities up without major work behind the scenes. This revelation makes me realise that maybe I am short-changing my students. Seeing them week in, week out, perhaps I have missed their improving language skills much like I missed my own. Professional food for thought.

Winter in Japan

I hope that every who reads my blog understands by now that Japanese summers are hot and oppressive. They sap your strength and range from uncomfortable to torturous. What you may not know is that winter here is testing too, in its own way.

In Britain we have the best combination of humidity and seasons: the summers are dry and the winters are damp. It’s great. In Japan, the summers are damp and the winters are dry. This is just plain bonkers.

Before I came to Japan, I had no idea how the humidity of a climate could be felt. Sure, I’d experienced the dry summers of the classic British holiday destinations, but Japan was something else altogether. Unlike the summer, when I pour with sweat from morning to night, winter is far more subtle in its effects.

You can tell how dry it is with just a simple unscientific test. In spring and autumn, a pair of trousers take about two days to dry out; depending on the weather, in summer it takes one to two days; but in winter, inside with no heating or breeze, it takes about 12 hours. That’s great news for your laundry pile, but terrible news for your body.

This week I’ve had the sniffles. It’s cold out and that’s just what happens. However, whenever I blow my nose I find blood mixed in there: not a lot, but enough to be noticeable. This is something new to me; I’ve never even had a nosebleed. That’s not all: my lips are constantly dry, my forehead feels taut and my elbows are peeling. Unsurprisingly lipbalm and moisturiser sales boom at this time of year.

Worse still, the cheaper places to live in and around Tokyo completely lack winter-proofing. Due to the extreme summers, many places are uninsulated. While most people have air-conditioners to provide heating, they are environmental unsound, expensive to run and not particularly effective. The best option is a gas space heater which requires you to run a pipe from your gas tap in the kitchen (something I’m pretty paranoid about), or, if you live higher up the property ladder, underfloor heating. The cheapest option, and the classic image of winter life in Japan, is to sit under a kotatsu: essentially a heated table. Last year we used one and it worked a treat, but this year we’ve not and I’m regretting every minute of it!

So spare a thought for your shivering blogger, cowering under the covers each morning; and more importantly, consider the thousands of homeless around the country in a far worse situation than me. Whatever I feel, they’re getting tenfold.

iPhone App Review: iKanji Touch

Full Disclosure: I am friends with the developer of this app, and he is a commenter here at this blog. I will nevertheless give you as fair a review as possible!

If you’ve ever tried to study Japanese, you’ll know that kanji are infuriatingly difficult to remember. These Chinese characters represent several readings, all of which you are incapable of knowing without a lot of study and a lot of memorising. They are an essential if you want to live in Japan, and the iPhone presents an excellent alternatives to pencil and paper. Among the many kanji learning apps, nothing can challenge iKanji Touch for its depth.

iKanji Touch filled the gap I was left with after studying with vocabulary learning tools like Smart.fm. It allows learners to focus on the readings of the kanji as well as their stroke order and appearance. As I can power through 20-40 on the train to work,  it’s helped solidify the basic kanji in my mind through its simple 3-stage testing and spaced-repetitive learning system.

Teach Me mode

The basic learning method provided by iKanji is the ‘Teach me ‘ mode. If you are unlucky or unprepared enough to fail in any of its three stages, you will progress to the next stage, but you won’t have completed that character. Instead you’ll be retested on that kanji at the end of the test, along with any other characters you failed on, until you eventually get it right.

The first stage of the testing concerns meaning. You are presented with kanji and have to choose the English meaning from four options. This section is pretty straight forward and there should be no surprises.

The second stage tests focuses on readings. You must select all the correct readings out of a set of ten, all presented in hiragana (kun’yomi) or katakana (on’yomi). To complete this stage of the test you must select all the correct answers and none of the incorrect ones.

Unfortunately, you’ll soon notice the unnecessary repetition. For instance, 一 (1) can be read as イツ, イチ, ひと- or ひと.つ. The latter two readings for the kanji are the same (ひと), the つ at the end of the last one denotes its usage, in this case: counting. (It’s worth noting that つい as in 一日 is not mentioned.) This is common to all the number kanji.

Similarly, 入 (enter/insert) can be read as い.る, -い.る, い.れる, はい.る, and ニュウ. In this case, the first three are all the same reading (い): the first is the plain form, the second is for use in compounds, and the last one is the potential form (i.e. can be entered). This is again a common feature to all verb kanji.

When faced with a set of readings like the ones on the screenshot above, it is pretty easy to guess three of them due to their similarity. The only one that really takes any effort is ロク, but that’s the easiest one. This repetition takes the challenge out of the test. The fault lies with the source data (EDICT), not the programmer (who I’ve discussed it at length with), but it’s a shame regardless.

The final stage showcases iKanji Touch’s most original feature. You are presented with a series of circles and faded lines, all you have to do is draw the lines in the correct stroke order from point to point. The current release has made the hit points easier to hit consistently and reduced the attrition caused by a jostling train or random hiccup. Now everything works incredibly smoothly.

It is comparable to the system from Kanji Kentei on the DS, a product designed for Japanese kanji learners (and rather inaccessible to low-level Japanese learners). Their system for testing your understanding of the stroke order is to ask you to number a given stroke. However, by comparison Kanji Kentei really fails to give the learner any practice in seeing the strokes unfold, or getting a feel for the kanji itself.

In this stage of iKanji Touch, it’s hard to some of the kanji being held up as examples of the ‘exemplary handwriting’ learners should strive for, and there is also no real distinction between the types of stroke endings. However, given the sheer amount of kanji offered (over 2000), and the limitations of the hardware, these minor details by no means impact the successful intuitiveness of the app’s writing system.

This whole stage is excellent and it is the reason I keep coming back to iKanji Touch after trying other apps. While tracing the kanji with your finger isn’t the same as writing it down with a pen, nor will it give you the ability to do so, it is nevertheless a very helpful aide-mémoire that beats simply looking at a character on the screen. If you don’t like it, or if you can’t do it, then there’s even a toggle to switch it off in the settings.

‘Teach me’ mode is designed to slowly build up your knowledge of the kanji. Each kanji entry is given a completion level depending on how many times you have completed the character in the ‘Teach me’ mode. You’ll feel a small sense of pride as your sets begin to fill up with green circles, and even more when you realise you’re being tested on some the kanji far less frequently as a result of mastering them.

Further Learning

In addition to ‘Teach me’ mode, there are other test modes. Although these have no bearing on your completion level, you can attempt any of the above stages individually, and you can also test yourself on each character’s appearance in compound words. Unfortunately this latter test doesn’t appear in the ‘Teach me’ mode, as it would be useful for solidifying the learner’s understanding, but I can also see why it’s left out: the compounds are often very difficult for lower-level learners (the app’s target market, I’d imagine) and they are vocabulary- (rather than character) specific.

To help you decide where to start, the kanji come ready-ordered. By default, you are given two different orderings: JLPT 1-4 (although I expect there’ll be an update once the new JLPT 1-5 system has settled in), and by the grade in which they would be taught at school (1-6). Which one you use will depend on your style and goals, but I would suggest a mixed approach (some very basic kanji are left out of the JLPT 4 set, for instance, but can be found in the Grade 1 set).

Each of these large groupings are divided into sets of 20 kanji, which is a decent size to concentrate on. There is no option to break these down into sets of 10 or 5, but that never really becomes necessary: if you can’t complete a test because there are too many kanji and you have to get off the train or run off to class, then you can stop the test or close the app without losing your completed progress (although you will have to take that last kanji again next time).

In addition to the basic groups, you can create your own practice sets by selecting individual kanji. A less tap-strenuous means would have been welcome, such as being able to select whole groups of kanji as well, but it really depends on what you want from the practice sets: while I’ve had no use for them, they are perfect for someone who wants to test themselves on a small variety of kanji. You can also add items from searches.

The final arrangement of kanji is the revision set. Here you will find kanji that you failed to answer correctly in the individual tests (that is, not the ‘Teach me’ mode). Again, this is something I never really used due to the intuitiveness and progression of the JLPT/school grade groupings, as well as the convenience of the ‘Teach me’ mode over the individual tests, although it would certainly be a valuable tool to anyone looking to nail down hard-to-remember characters.

In addition to the learning side of the app is the reference side. If you want to know more about any kanji you can search for it (through stroke count, meaning, or reading), or just browse for it. Clicking on a kanji entry will open its flashcard showing you the meanings, readings and completion of the individual kanji. It also shows you the radical of the kanji (useful when you progress into harder and harder characters). Tapping on the card will flip it over to show an animation demonstrating how to write the character, and at the bottom of both screens is a button to view further compounds. As a reference tool, however, other apps have iKanji Touch beat with a range of extra features (such as the amazingly detailed ‘Japanese’ by codefromtokyo).

If you’re a learner of Japanese, you really should buy this app. Unlike many other apps, it doesn’t rely on your honesty to decide whether you knew a word or not, it tests you honestly and fairly. It’s the most well-considered, joined up and original kanji learning tool that you can buy. It’s full of lots of nice touches: the excellent graphics, clear presentation and little mascot (Tsutsune) all add character to the app. With clear and intuitive beginner’s guide, it’s readily accessible to all levels of learners. Plus, at ¥1,200 ($9.99), it’s affordable too.

Nezu Shrine

Type:
Religious site

Location:
Bunkyo-ku, Tokyo

How to get there:
Nezu Station (C-14) is eight stops from Otemachi on the Tokyo Metro Chiyoda Line.

Entry:
Free

Time needed:
Up to 30 minutes

Summary:
At 300 years old, Nezu Shrine is one of the oldest original structures in Tokyo although you would be hard-pressed to notice. Its brilliant red gate, with its Buddhist character out-of-place in a Shinto shrine, makes an immediate impression as you approach from the street. It’s grounds are also home to Otome Inari Shrine, its corridor of torii gates reminiscent of the major Inari shrine at Fushimi (Inari is the goddess of rice – feudal lords used pay wages in rice – and is thus associated with success). The modest size of the grounds make it a short stop, but the surrounding shitamachi area known as Yanesen (Yanaka, Nezu, Sendagi) has a several minor sights worth seeing.

Highlights:
Despite it being early January, the plum blossoms were starting to bloom. They should be in full bloom in February, and if you visit in Golden Week, you’ll be treated to a plethora of colour from the azelea and wisteria thriving around the grounds.

Watch out for:
The torii gates. No, really. They’re quite low and I had to duck (I’m 5′ 7”). Giants beware!

Food and Drink:
10-15 minutes walk from the Shrine is Kamachiku, a family run home-made udon restaurant. It is closed on Mondays, so I was sadly disappointed, but it comes highly recommended. Be sure to get there early (11am-12pm seems best) as the food disappears quickly. See the map below for its location.

Visited:
11th January 2010, 14:30 p.m.

Busy?:
Not really, although during the azalea blooming season and the Shrine’s Azalea Matsuri (late April-Early May) you should expect crowds.

Map:

View Larger Map

Gallery:

View Larger Map

Should Japan Give Permanent Residents Suffrage?

From today’s Japan Times, an update on an ongoing debate about giving Permanent Resident Status holders the right to vote in elections:

A former member of the Lower House from the Democratic Party of Japan, Ueda said he doesn’t understand why third-, fourth- or even fifth-generation foreign residents don’t just seek Japanese nationality. He was apparently referring to Korean residents.

Ueda said national security can be the focal point of a local election, citing this Sunday’s mayoral race in Nago, Okinawa Prefecture, where the long-delayed relocation of a U.S. military base is the crux of the campaign.

Residents of Korean descent comprise most of the permanent foreign residents in Japan. The government grants special permanent resident status to people from the Korean Peninsula and Taiwan who have lived in the country since the time of Japan’s colonial rule over those areas, and to their descendants.

Opinion is split among the foreign community, as best represented by an earlier post by Adamu over at Mutantfrog Travelogue:

In addition to expected support from zainichi Korean groups, we have some uncharacteristically half-baked support from Debito, the well-known human rights agitator: “Debito.org is in support, given how difficult it can be to get PR in Japan, not to mention how arbitrary the naturalization procedures are.” But just because it’s tough to get the status, that doesn’t mean one should get the right to vote and be elected. I am not accusing foreigners in Japan of being spies or degenerates, but a basic tenet of a country and the Japanese constitution is that it is to be governed by its citizens. That requirement helps assure those who will be involved in politics are committed citizens of the country. Permanent residents are already protected under the law and do not need to renew their visa to stay in the country. I think if they want more than that they should be ready to give up their original passport and become citizens.

He concludes:

There are more important issues in my opinion (allowing dual citizenship, establishing an immigration policy) that should be given more priority.

Putting aside giving suffrage to Special Permanent Residents, i.e. zainichi Koreans, what would it mean to give Permanent Residents the right to vote?

I’m not a Permanent Resident, at least not yet. I have to wait at least another 3 years, and probably longer, until I can even apply for it. However, assuming that I would still be living in Japan, I would probably also be the parent of a transnational child. As a parent, I would be concerned with providing my child and family with the best that they can get, and while Keiko could do that on my behalf, it doesn’t seem too unfair to ask that I might have a say too: as a resident of my local community, a tax payer, and a contributor to the pensions of the rapidly ageing society (a pension I would never receive myself). What I would like for my future-self is the ability to vote in city-wide elections, such as for the mayor so I too can attempt to improve my family’s lot in my local area.

We can put aside the issue of national elections, they might affect me, but those are the province of citizens given that they can affect constitutional and national security issues. While Ueda might have a point in saying that national security and local elections can intersect, I think this is unlikely even in Okinawa. It’s the power of the national government that will bring about change.

You might be asking why I don’t consider naturalising, i.e. becoming a Japanese citizen. As a British citizen with family in Britain, it’s important for me to be able to visit or move back to live in the UK should something terrible happen. If I became a Japanese citizen I would have to give up my British nationality (Japan does not allow dual-citizenship) and that would mean travelling on a visa (and if you’ve seen the current visa system in Britain, you’d realise that it would be a fate worse than death).

As for voting back home, I am only really concerned with the General Election, i.e. elections to change the national government who make foreign and nationwide domestic policy, the only areas of British policy that really affect me these days. I have no interest in voting in local elections back home. I don’t live there and I have no stake in what happens.

I understand the point that Adamu made in the quote above. Why take suffrage for permanent residents when we should be calling for immigration reform? After all, it’s not like the Permanent Residents themselves are clamouring for this right. The problem is that PR suffrage is being offered now, and who knows when or even if the Diet will contemplate dual-nationality? I hope that Japan becomes immigrant-friends as the country increasingly relies on foreign labour, but I’m not holding my breath. If the DPJ push through voting rights for zainichi Koreans and other Special Permanent Residents: excellent. If they tag on some benefits for PRs, I’d use them. After that, if they still don’t contemplate immigration reform, then what have we lost?

New Blog: Camera in Japan

Last night I created a new blog: Camera in Japan

Since I started James in Japan, I’ve wrestled with how best to present the photos I’ve taken as the room within the blog is not all that large given the various resolutions my known audience use. At Camera in Japan, you will find single photos in all their glory (if there is any glory to them). It allows me to separate my writing from my photography yet still easily use both.

A few months ago I moved away from using Picasa and began to upload my photographs direct to my blog (having had a look at Flickr, I’m not sure it’s for me). With the increasing number of photoblog themes here at WordPress, I decided to give it a shot. I hope you will take the time to look over there and I look forward to your tips and comments.

iPhone App Review: Tomena Sanner (トメナサンナー Touch)

“There’s this guy… He just runs along the screen.” The young designer quivered with the dribble of fear that comes from facing one’s boss.

The man at the head of the conference table coughed. “That’s not much of a game, Yamamoto-san.”

The lithe and oily-skinned games designer was now visibly pouring with sweat. “… He can jump too, if you press the screen, that is…”

Sensing the nervousness of their colleague, the rest of the design team piped up.

“There are astronauts too!”

“… and you can ride triceratopses.”

“Don’t forget the sumo wrestlers and the dancing, multiplying school girl!”

Yamamoto shuffled with discomfort as Konami’s Creative Manager stared at him. Seconds stretched into an eternity as the balding, black-suited man with a comb-over picked up his Lucky Strike cigarette from his pocket ashtray. He took a deep puff, exhaling slowly before a grin crept across his face.

“I like it, guys! Yamamoto-san, don’t screw this up!”

The design team bowed and left the room with a buzz. All except Yamamoto who vomited into the plastic potted plant in the secretary’s office.

“What’s wrong?” A concerned colleague inquired.

“What’s wrong?” Yamamoto cried. “What’s wrong?! … Now we have to make this crazy acid trip of a game!”

That’s what I imagine the design process behind Tomena Sanner was like. Released on the Wii and DS for download, it’s also available on the App Store for anyone who wants a simple, one-touch game.

A single press of the screen will see you leaping or interacting with the obstacles in your salaryman’s way: moonwalking past astronauts, punching the Pope, and getting attacked by furries. The design is distinctly Japanese in it’s wacky randomness and the humourous goings on will stay with you long after you press the Home button. However, the more you play, the more it becomes clear that the game harbours a disappointing flaw.

The end of every level features a dance stage in which you must touch the screen according to the guide on the screen. Doesn’t sound so bad, right? After all, it’s only a more simplified version of Tap Tap Revenge, right?

Wrong. In rhythm games such as Tap Tap, the button pressed are synchronised to the beat of the music. In Tomena Sanner, the music is entirely detached from the rhythm elements. Not just in the dance stage.

Konami, the developer, argues that,

Tomena Sanner is a high speed side-scrolling action game that features a unique timing based control system that is as challenging as it is fun. As you fly, jump, and dance over the many crazy obstacles you need perfect timing to keep your speed up and perform awesome tricks like flips or breakdance moves.

Tomena Sanner doesn’t have a suitably zoomed out perspective to make its obstacles avoidable in the fastest pace of the game. Whereas in Canabalt (another popular run ‘n’ avoid game) it is pretty clear that your character fell to his death because of your poor timing, getting kicked in the face by a guy in a giraffe costume in Tomena Sanner often feels unfair – the sweet spot of interaction with the obstacles are rather difficult to suss out. Whereas Canabalt promotes long-term play by recording the distance travelled on an endless track (think about all those times you batted that penguin across the land of Yeti Sports), Tomena Sanner breaks up the play into stages (even in Endless Mode).

With it’s defined end-goals and discrete levels Tomena Sanner instead feels like a simpler version of Rhythm De Go! (DS) with less variety and less replayability. Further deepening the contrast is the disconnection between the music and the gameplay. Whereas the fastest pace could be overcome in Rhythm De Go! by following the beat of the music; with no connection between the two in Tomena Sanner, the lack of audio cues worsens that already palpable cheapness. The inclusion of the dance after-stage simply reinforces my belief that there was supposed to be a rhythm element. I may be wrong, and maybe timing really is key and it’s just that my timing isn’t good enough to keep up with the game, but the game still feels like an unhappy medium between those two other excellent games.

Despite this major flaw in the feel of the gameplay, it ultimately remains fun for short bursts, succeeding as a mobile game (and in some sense benefiting from the ability to play in mute – even if it’s at the expense of its quality). At ¥230, it’s not too bad a price for a bit of fun, but how long it will last depends on how this control system sits with you. For me, Tomena Sanner didn’t sit very well.

First Bath of 2010

Well, it’s 2010. While the world was arguing about whether we should call it ‘two thousand and ten’ or ‘twenty – ten’ (clearly the latter), I slipped off to Onneyu Onsen (an onsen is a hot spring bath resort) outside Rubeshibe in Hokkaido. My first and long-awaited onsen visit, and it was the in-laws’ treat.

It was snowing heavily (the first of what looks to be a bad January – 110cm the other day), the roads were turning white, and some poor soul had lost control of his car and it plunged into the roadside ditch. Clearly we arrived safely, but the journey wasn’t without its thrills.

I was glad to get through the doors to the hotel to warm up, but then i grew alarmed: had I stumbled into some sort of pantomime? The hotel staff were wearing face paint as they went about their reception duties, and one was in drag (albeit a female yukata, but still drag). It turned out that they were having a special New Year’s event and we had a small indoor festival to look forward to that night. But that could all wait… You don’t go to an onsen and ethuse about the sideshow. No, you go to get in the bath!

The Baths

The first thing that struck me was the fact that I would be bathing with my father-in-law, and while I previously said that you shouldn’t be afraid of nudity in the bathhouses, this felt a little more personal and uncomfortable – until I got soaking that was. With the 45°C water and the slight whiff of sulphur, I quickly got over my embarrassment and started to enjoy it.

The water temperature was surprising. Sitting beside the entry point of the spring water was so hot I couldn’t bear it. While the average temperature ranged around the mid-40s, the temperature by the tap (or whatever you might call the trickling stream of geothermally-heated water) had to have been in the 60s or 70s.

There were several baths of varying temperatures and infusions but also, most importantly for me, a rotenburo (outdoor bath). Rotenburo are the quintessential element of an onsen visit. With the outside air in the minuses, it was instantly relaxing to sink up to my shoulders and watch the steam drift along the surface of the bath. Protecting our modest from the balcony above and from the falling snow was a bamboo wind-shelter, but it was hard to really care about all that. The only thing I had to worry about was the sub-zero naked walk back inside (a sprinkler sprayed hot water pouring onto the stone path so that it didn’t feel too cold underfoot).

At midnight until 10am (check-out time), the bath areas switched. So the next morning I was able to go to the ‘female’ side (of course, having switched with us, there were no women there). Whereas the previous side was like a cave: no windows, stony walls, with a damp atmosphere, the other side was bright and airy with windows facing onto the town (with opaque tint to hide the naughty bits from the outside world (although I imagine there is a telescope shop doing quite brisk business down there). The baths were mostly the same, but less roughly designed. There were also two rotenburo. The first had the same swimming pool-like features, plus a reclined area for lying in. This side also faced the town, but a large bamboo screen hid everything from the outside world (although I could see through the small gaps). The second rotenburo was the best: it was quite small, but it had a rock garden around it, and the trees were close enough to touch. Someone had made two little snowmen and placed them on the rocks beside the pool. As I sat in there, my mind drifted off. Eventually though, the conflicting temperatures between my head and my body were tiring me out, so I got out. However, that bath really made my holiday for me.

The one thing I knew about but had never encountered in previous bathing locations was young children. At first I was a little disconcerted about seeing a parade of young girls accompanying their fathers into the bath. I could hear The Sun and the Daily Mail readers preparing their torches and pitchforks… But I realised that it didn’t really matter. If anything, the propensity for Japanese fathers to bathe with their daughters and mothers with their sons might help create a healthy attitude toward nakedness, something severely lacking in modern Britain or America. Then again, thinking about some of the sexual mores created here, this attitude might not really be a good thing.

The Meals

After the first bath, we went for dinner. The hotel served a buffet-style breakfast and dinner, although other courses were apparently available (in a different hall). Everyone (about 50 people) gathered in the dining hall, a large tatami-floored room and helped themselves to sushi, noodles, meat, and particularly crab. I’d only eaten crab from the shell on New Year’s Eve for osechi, the New Year’s feast (outside Hokkaido, people eat osechi on New Year’s day), but these ones were much bigger and meatier than I’d ever seen. I ate my fill and drank beer by the litre. The quality was good, but at breakfast I resented the lack of kocha (normal tea, to us Brits). I can’t function without my morning cuppa, and I spent the better part of the 3rd trying to stay awake.

The Rooms

The room was wonderful. Above the genkan was the washbasin. There was a washlet toilet in the bathroom, along with a bath and shower (in case you couldn’t go into the public one, I guess – infectious diseases, period, disability perhaps). As I write this, it occurs to me that that was the first bathroom toilet I had seen in Japan since I came here to live. Typically the toilet is stuck in a small room of its own for several reasons: hygiene – the toilet is dirty, hence you don’t put it where you want to clean yourself; mould – it’s hard enough to keep the shower area clean; and finally, convenience – most Japanese houses seem to have only one toilet, and people sometimes bathe/poo for eternity.

The next room was the living area. A big coffee table stood at the centre, surrounded by zabuton (cushions). There was a TV, a kettle, some matcha- (powdered green tea) making facilities, and two armchairs. This room was separated from the sleeping area by sliding doors, and while we ate dinner, the staff pulled our futon out of the cupboards and made our beds. The whole area was tatami and, despite being uncomfortably warm, it was very pleasant.

The Festival

As I mentioned before, the hotel held a festival inside the building. After dinner, we went to play some traditional games. We all gave hoopla a go, and Keiko did exceptionally well. Emasculated by my loss, I moved on to the pop-gun gallery. With my exceptional shooting ability, I scored a surfboard-shaped lighter (which I had to leave in Hokkaido) and a toy sword (which I will be giving to one lucky child in the near future). I then attempted the most heinous game known to man: you have to cut a shape out of a thin sugar wafer using a drawing pin and a toothbrush without breaking the internal shape. It’s very, very difficult. Nothing happened when I scraped and brushed, so I turned to brute force, using the pin to snap parts away, hoping the counter-sunk edges of the shape would cleave nicely. Of course I was wrong though, and Keiko and I dropped out with only cardboard-tasting broken pieces of sugar wafers for consolation.

The next event was a geiko oiran parade. Keiko said something about one of them coming from Tokyo, but I’m pretty sure the main ‘girl’ was a guy. Either way, he or she had 50cm geta (traditional outdoor sandals) and walked with sweeping motions along the corridor as people snapped pictures of her/him. At the end, our whole family sat in front of her/him, plus two (other) girls [Keiko has told me they were all guys!] for a souvenir photograph.

We couldn’t stick around, however, as we were worried we would miss the opening of a cask of sake (they are opened with a hammer). Unfortunately, we did miss it, but the sake was free and so I wasted no time in gulping a few down. Meanwhile, the hotel held a draw for a range of prizes: weekends in other fantastic hotels, crab, sweets, and fish… there were so many prizes and seemingly so few guests that it looked like everyone would be a winner. Everyone around us seemed to win and we had some really close calls, but even with two rooms to our name, we went away with nothing (well, not quite nothing, I had some more sake to compensate).

The final stage of the festival was mochi-tsuki, (making rice cakes). I had a go at this last year, and I’m glad I did because it seemed that the hotel wasn’t letting just anyone have a go. We watched two burly hotel staff pound the rice into a sticky mess, and then ate the fruits of their labour: Keiko ate them with a little kinako, but I stuck to the anko (I’ve really taken a liking to anko - a sweet bean paste).

Final Impressions

The one thing that really struck me on this visit to Hokkaido, and to the onsen in particular, was the complete absence of obvious foreigners. That wasn’t to say that there weren’t any, clearly there were: I saw eikaiwa all over the place and the faces of ALTs in the local news-zine. There were undoubtedly Chinese and Koreans around, that particular area of Hokkaido has received a tourism boom after a few Chinese and Korean movie and drama features, but they could slip bar far less noticeably than I.

I sat down to eat my mochi in the hotel on a bench by myself. A couple of kids came over. The two kids sat down on the bench beside me, and the youngest, a girl of about 6, kept looking at me. I turned to her and smiled (my time spent teaching kids has made me far more friendlier towards the younger ones), but she continued to stare. A few moments later she swapped places with her brother.

A little while later, their grandfather strolled over and crouched down on the floor beside them, so I scooted over to the other bench (Keiko’s father had left and thus made some space) and offered the seat to him. As he sat down, the boy turned to his grandfather and said “Gaikokuji wa me-“. He didn’t get to finish his sentence as his grandfather shushed him. I assume that the kid was about to say that foreigners were pretty rare, he might (if I heard wrong) have been trying to say something else, but either way, he was just a little kid so I told the grandfather that it was okay. In the bath that night I bumped into the same kids, all of us stark naked, and they didn’t bat an eyelid. Every time I give up my seat, every time I try to help someone out here, it’s with full knowledge that I might be helping to break the stereotype: not all hakujin (literally, white people) are loud and self-centred. We’re not going to bite, and some of us can speak Japanese. I hope that just that small change in those kids’ attitudes will have stronger effects later on, but who’s to say.

Later the next day, as we went shopping for souvenirs in Kitami (a small city), a woman stared at me so hard she even craned her neck as we passed one another. That, to me, was a bit offensive (unless she thought I was cute/sexy, in which case, ewww). One of the benefits of having a Japanese wife in Japan, particularly one from the countryside, is that you really do get off the beaten track. As foreigners penetrate deeper into Japanese society and gain wider and more personal exposure, we might make some changes for the better here.

Anyway, OnneyuOnsen: check it out.

Reflections on my first full-year in Japan

I have been in Japan for one year and 156 days now, a little over 17 months. 2009 was my first full year here, and while the rest of the country tries to forget about the past 12 months in their bonenkai (忘年会), I’m trying my best to understand just what has happened to me this year.

Work

I’ve been through a difficult learning curve. Teaching young kids from day one, I began to find my ground in 2009. I’ve discovered which students and classes I adore, and which ones cause me problems. I’ve found a rhythm of games and work that is serving me well. If anything, I am better than ever with my very young learners, but I’ve yet to find the correct formula for older elementary and junior high school kids.

As for my working life, I feel appreciated and largely respected by my bosses and peers. This is very important for me: in such a decentralised system, your relationship with your colleagues can change the tone of your day significantly. I’ve also consolidated my teaching days into three schools, two of which are close to my home. Working 20 minutes from home as opposed to an hour away is the difference between being home just after 9pm, or being home at 10pm.

That said, I am considering what will come next. The job market is idle at the moment, but if I were to see a full-time job teaching adults for about the same pay, I would start looking to jump ship. I’m in no rush though, I don’t hate my job, it’s just that it is the kids that can ruin my day. Adults much less so. Yet, like I said, there is no rush.

On Keiko’s side, her work is moving in the right direction, if not quickly and smoothly enough. The poor girl has been working solid and much harder than I have. She deserves a long holiday and a big bonus, but neither are going to happen.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Find a less dry way to teach higher-level concepts (such as tenses and adverbs) to older children.
• Consolidate more working days closer to home.

Family

We started off 2009 by purchasing Ebichu, our hamster. He’s been an adorable and lovely addition to our family. He never bites and is low maintenance. So far, he’s never been sick, and he’s great to have around (even if he’s a pain to arrange a babysitter for). We love him as a family member. He might even be considered a substitute for the child that we’ve long wanted and came close to having this year.

The day I found I Keiko was pregnant, my heart pounded with anxiety… the doctor doubted it would come to term and Keiko was suffering from pain. After a few weeks, another doctor told us we would probably be fine. I felt myself ready to burst out with joy: I was going to be a dad. Only, I wasn’t.

The slow and painful moments that it took to acknowledge the doctor’s news, the floods of tears that followed, and the inevitable dive into depression I will never forget about this year. We learned this just two days before we were to move home. Our new house still reminds me of our loss. We chose it knowing that we would have a baby here where they could spend their first few years pottering around our small garden, playing in the nearby parks, and walking along the river. The house is great (although it’s much colder in winter than we expected), but until I fill that gap in our lives, I will always be living in that moment.

Verdict: Negative

Resolution(s):

• None (yet).

Friends

This has been a pretty good year for catching up with friends. Chikara was here for most of the year so we spent a good deal of time together. Nori came back in the summer so I was able to see both of them together, a throwback to our Aberystwyth days. But now Chikara’s back in the UK and Nori’s hard at work, so it’s not easy to see two of my best friends as often as I’d like.

As for friends back home, Rory came over (twice in 12 months). Although I didn’t get a chance to get to know him while we lived in Aber, it’s great to have that chance even though I live abroad. On the other hand, despite deciding to get a job here, Andy hasn’t made it to Japan yet. I hope that 2010 changes that.

Finally, I’ve networked a lot more this year, and it’s paid off. Earlier in the year I met Bryan (sadly, just before he went back to the States) for a drink, and I love the idea of catching an after-work or Saturday night drink with anyone following me here or on Twitter. (Just no murderers, please!) In addition, after learning some lessons from last year’s Christmas parties, I’ve managed to get more people into my contacts list.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Try to get out for drinks more often and meet new people.

Travel

I still have many places to visit in Japan. I didn’t do much sightseeing in 2008 as I was adjusting to work and married life, but this year I’ve made it to a few places: Enoshima, Odawara, Sagamiko, and more. I like local tourism, seeings things that are nearby on a day-trip or long weekend. Whereas many Tokyoites jet off to far-flung regions of Japan, that just stresses me out. There are still many local places that I want to visit this year, and I’d like to arrange another longer-stay holiday at some point in the year.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Visit Nikko, Karuizawa, and Ikebukuro (I can’t believe I’ve still not been there).
• Try to go on at least one longer-haul holiday.

Language

This year has been difficult for my Japanese skills. I’m still improving, but for months I had no teacher after the move from Sagamihara to Kawasaki. Now I have one, but she doesn’t teach on national holidays which, when you have a lesson on Mondays, is a constant annoyance.

I’m still overly shy and embarrassed by my Japanese, but if the alcohol’s flowing then so can the language. On the plus side, I can to talk to Keiko’s parents on the phone more fluently than ever. However, I need to talk more to help overcome my insecurities, so I’m trying to find a local language exchange partner. No luck yet.

Finally, I’ve succumbed to the idea that I should take a Japanese test. I have two options: JLPT5 or the J-Test. I don’t feel like I would struggle too much to pass JLPT5, but I’d like the experience of taking that kind of test. The higher-level tests (Levels 1 and 2) are important to employers, plus a pass might increase my confidence.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Try to supplement my private lessons with a group lesson.
• Find a language exchange partner or someone whom I can talk to entirely in Japanese.
• Apply to take a Japanese test.

Health & Lifestyle

Finally, I’d like to note that 2009 has been an excellent one for my body. Having grown up a fussy child, I’m only now beginning to eat most common vegetables. In addition, I’ve been trying to lose weight: I started this year in the gym, but gave up my membership as work became busier in the summer. However, since finishing at the gym, I’ve been losing weight due to better eating and my better understanding of calorie intake. This is a first for me, and it’s something I really hope I can continue.

Verdict: Positive

Resolution(s):

• Go out running more frequently (at least in the warmer months).
• Drop 5kg in a sustainable fashion.

Summary

On the whole, I had a rather good year. I’m fitter and healthier than ever, living in a cosy apartment and getting on well in my work. The things I wanted to do in Japan are being done, even if it’s happening slower than I expected. Even though we went through the toughest experience of our lives in the summer, we are nevertheless stronger and more determined because of it. In sum, not a great year, but not too terrible either: there is still room for improvement in 2010.

Happy New Year everyone!