Ep. 17 The Tha-nihon-ksgiving Feast

In a world filled with strange and mysterious things, it can be utterly baffling to discover an object of ardent and artful unoriginality. As such, and in no small part because, and with deep consideration to these facts, our hero will omit these details in my writing. Instead, I write of an amazing adventure of true transplantational trickery, where one day travels back in time yet one day ahead to a strange place far removed and a holiday in the lead. This is the holiday where, in the land of Halloween->Christmas, a land where already the jingling bells of the evergreen adorn the resplendently repellant rooms of mass material marketing, a land where a religivous festivous of fervent faith has never really openly celebrated the cessation of a womb by a supposed savior; in that very land the holiday of Thanksgiving leaped, sliced, diced, and wedged itself between the past and future shopping for a small group of expats...and former colonial overlords. Only in a place so far removed can a match made impossible by the far reaches of history overcome prejudice, persecution, and perpetual curiosity to exist. What will happen, question-mark-exclamation-point?!?!?!?!?!?! Read if you dare!


So, about a week ago I received an invite to attend a Thanksgiving day feast on the Saturday before Thanksgiving. Normally I work on Saturdays, but because this on happened to be a national holiday, it was a free day for me. So, I accepted. And it really did seem appropriate to celebrate on that day, being that it was Labor Thanksgiving in Japan. The issue, of course, is what to cook. As I have no oven--and don't really have access to one--cooking a gigantic turkey seemed a poor idea. That, and meat was already to be covered, so it was more the prospect of bringing something that I could eat that was important. Eventually, I decided on a simple pasta dish (recipe now up in, "The Joys of Cooking Illiterately") which consisted of noodles, I-don't-know-but-still-vegetarian sauce, at-least-they're-cheap mushrooms, is-this-actually-a green pepper, and carrots...which are so common that they don't deserve the epigraph. Overall, I would argue that it turned out quite well.
//**quick note: when typing a blog and running a bath, make sure to keep your ears open. If a watched pot never boils, then an unobserved bath will always overflow.**//
Getting there turned out to be surprisingly easy, once I had established where I was going. Several messages had left out a single letter in the name of the town Tsuruse. In a shocking twist of time and space, that single letter shaved an hour off of my commute (yay). Still, with it being nearly December, the sun is setting earlier and earlier. While this will be good for the upcoming Ison comet (I hope) it means that I didn't get to see much as I rode the train. Still, all of the lights were very pretty.
I was met at the station by a training friend, who took me and one other person that she was meeting to her boyfriend's apartment. Now, I have seen other Leopalaces--the company that owns my apartment--around. However, it was still a bit of a shock to go to another apartment building, open the door...and find a nearly exact duplicate of my room. It had a familiar of home to it, yet at the same time every difference stood out in sharp contrast to everything else...definitely an interesting experience. Overall, I had a lot of fun fun. It was nice to meet new people--most of whom were, "across the pond" from America, and all of whom were really nice, good people--and it was fascinating to watch the dynamic of this new group of people. They were all older than me, most were in their late 20's, and it was cool to watch how they interacted with each other and how they thought about the world. Plus, there was quite a lot of good food, which is always a plus.

Food that I could eat.

All of the food. Note the chicken in the crock pot on the floor.

As a mild complaint, though, the host was older than everyone else, and I got the feeling that he was the glue that held this group of people together. That's not to say that they wouldn't have enjoyed each other without him, but he seemed to be the great organizer who planned things and who thought up things for people to do. Now, why did this bug me? Because, at least in college if not earlier, that's the sort of thing that I would do. Don't get me wrong, he was a nice guy, and it's good to have someone like that, but at the same time (as some of us learned when we left Upper School) if you don't branch out and share that responsibility of making things for people to do, then the group will fall apart when the glue departs. It's not that people want the glue to fall apart, but that to keep it together, they would have to redefine themselves in the larger group context, which can be really hard if it's not prepared for right. I learned that lesson once and, at least with the Willamette Improv Club, I think that I learned that lesson well.
Anyway, we took a break from being a mostly-passive audience to partake in one of my favorite Thanksgiving traditions: sitting in a circle and each person saying what we're thankful for. And for the first time that I can remember, a certain Thanksgiving story did not crop up. Every person has a story like this, a tale from childhood that parents seem to bring up each and every year, the kind of story that just never seems to die. It happened back when I was really young. My family was at my grandparents' utterly amazing house for Thanksgiving. We were just sitting down, when we decided to go around the table and all say what we are thankful for. Everyone said something nice and inciteful. I am thankful for family. I am thankful that we are gathered here. I am thankful for my children, and grandchildren, etc. Anyway, we finally got to me, who clearly knew what everyone basically had on their mind, because I opened my mouth, and said...you're going to have to ask my family for this answer. I don't mind this story, it's definitely fun, but here in Japan we've other things to be thankful for. However, everyone there seemed to be thankful for very similar things. Having a job. Being in Japan. Being with awesome, fun people over here. Having amazingly supportive people back home. Having enough that we can complain. All of these things we have, and it's our choice of what to do with them. Also, it really is true that those of us in Japan are really in it together, and tend to face the same problems. In other words, with all of the people that we have over here, and all of the people that we have back home, none of us are really alone.
One final note: my company is not the only one to have English speakers in Konosu. One person was late last night, who was also from around Omiya. Guess where she's from? KONOSU. Guess which building she's in. Not mine, but a three-story Leopalace about a block away. She, my coworker, and I had been living within 100 meters of each other, and never known it. That, my friends, is serendipity.


So, I'm in a much better place now than I was a few weeks ago. I am more content with my life, and I'm in such a new and exciting place. Plus, in a little more than a month, I'm getting visitors! It will fill me with happiness and joy, and I cannot wait. All of this excitement has made my classes better. Speaking of classes...

• In my 6th grade class with the spanking boys, the spanking one was a little embarrassed in class, while the spanked one was not. Considering what was bare last week, this was a switch.
• I took one student through Shakespeare. It went really well, and the student did better than many native speakers I knew.
• I teach a high school freshman aged class with one student. This week we learned about compliments. I asked him what he could compliment his mother about. He looked at me like I was asking the impossible. Some things never change.
• There were three students in my discussion class this week. What did I learn? That it's really hard to get a discussion going when everyone keeps agreeing with each other. What else did I learn? When asked what they had learned from foreign dramas, the first response was so beautiful, so perfect, and so cheesy that I had to write it down:

Congrats America; you've become a rom com.

Well, this has been another exciting adventure in the austentatious. If you liked me, tell your friends; if you hated me, tell your enemies, and if you didn't care either way, then tell everybody.

PS: Pretty pictures of fall.

Yes, these are right outside of town.

No, really, Tokyo does end.

So, the leaves are finally changing...

Ep. 16 Hearts and Minds

And so our hero comes to crossroads; to the one direction, he can continue as he has been these many weeks. To the other, genuine change and maturation. Which will he choose? Only time will tell.

I remember being down in college, but it was easier to deal with because a) home was only an hour away, and b) I was surrounded by a constant sea of activity. As such, my experience of growth was at the same time less severe and more prolonged. So, why call this episode hearts and minds? Because, in Vietnam, that was the tactic that the US tried to implement and, while it failed miserably, the US still learned a lot...that it promptly forgot. Fast forward a few decades, and said country learns the same lessons again in a new war. So, here I sit, learning lessons again, but in a new context, and trying to figure out what all of it means. Nominally, I have two options for personal growth--do it or don't--but I do not see why I must take one of two roads, why I cannot instead make new territory between the existing structures. After all, no path is perfect, and perhaps by taking the middle way, I may find a way to balance the two and mitigate the imperfections inherent in either model.
So, let me introduce myself. My name is Austin Schock, but I always go by Austin...just Austin. I'm on the shorter side of normal in America--where I once called home--and on the more middling side in Japan, my once-supposed respite from reality. I am a nerd and actor extraordinaire, and am rather comfortable with who and what I am, although I'm a bit less sure about what that means. Being so young, at age 22, I still have a lot to learn, and don't quite expect to really understand what's going on until long after I should have shuffled off my mortal coil. In other words, I'm as human as any of us can really be and, given how many twists and turns that it took history to find its way to a world where we could all actually exist, we all have just that little bit of fantastic in us. However, no one is ever really better or worse than anyone else; we all just sort of live, and each of us have a small light of something amazing inside.
So, what was my problem? Well, for one, I was being a selfish little twit. There is always more going on, and I wasn't listening to my body because I didn't like what it was saying. Basically, I've been ecstatic since February because I was going to get to come to Japan to teach English. But here's the problem--it never quite occurred to me to really think about what it would mean to teach English to students. I had somehow failed to recognize the true give and take nature of this job, and the level of trust that bonds the two groups together. Even once I got here, as the bond was forming, I refused to see it for what it was, and in the end that selfish immaturity drove me to make a mistake that should have left me small and pitiful. Instead, I will only say that my company employs some very wise and patient people and, while I might still have a lot of growing up still to do, they have given me the tools to better both my skill and my humility, and I will be forever in their debt.
For another, I was being a selfish little twit. My one desire was to form strong connections with those around me, but I wasn't letting myself do so. That was very disrespectful to everyone that I have met over here, and is inexcusable in general. Other people are not here to grant my every whim and request; they are their own agents, with their own wishes, hopes, and dreams. As Kant would say, we must treat them not as a means unto an end but rather as a means unto themselves. I came over here with the intent of simply using my position this year to further another goal, and that was definitely not a good mentality to have going in. As I soon realized, all of my actions would have consequences, and I will have to live with that fact. However, I should also work to minimize the negative consequences to those around me. Regardless, I should never have thought in such simple terms about real people, no matter how distant they are from me. There are billions of people in this world, and though I may never meet each and every one, they are all still as equally as important, and equally as valid in their humanity. The least I can do is actually have that fact matter for those that I interact with, though as a global citizen I should always be doing more.
So, I now have a choice to make: will I stay with the company for a short term and leave before my contract, will I stay with my company until this contract is up, or will I stay with the company long into the future? All that I can say for the moment is that this blog is not the medium to discuss such thing, although paramount in my thoughts are my students and co-workers, and the bonds of trust that have formed between us all. Some people will soon be informed of my decision, which will not be made public. I will return home--no matter how long I am here, no matter how many times I intentionally change the word, I still associate my dear old Oregon with home--when I return home. To think about such matters too much now will only depress me, and do a disservice to my students. My return will be when the time is right, and neither sooner nor later.

One final story. When I was in my Junior year of Upper School, I went on a trip to Costa Rica. One day, our chief guide admonished us for not helping more. They were doing so much for us, and we didn't seem to be grateful or even notice. Afterwards--we were on a beach--most of the students went off to play and to do beachy things. I, however, stayed behind and thanked him for admonishing us. He looked at me, with a knowing smile on his face, and said, "you're too smart for your own good."
He was right, and what I think he really meant was that I would have to learn a lot as I got older, and that it would be really difficult and that I would get in a lot of trouble. Perhaps one of my worst habits, actually, is my curiosity about people. Now, people watching is fine, but there is a huge difference between that and adamantly refusing to take an easy opportunity to fess up. I am reminded of Dumbledore, who knew everything--of course he knew everything--and would always give others the opportunity to grow by fessing up and telling him themselves. If the person mentioned it, of course, it was a sign that they were growing up. I'm sorry to say that I'm not quite that mature yet, as I would still rather stick it out and see if someone will simply spill the beans. However, afterwards I will usually look for the first opportunity to spill them myself. So, I do apologize to everyone whom I have done that to, and I do mention that I am working on not doing it and do realize just how disrespectful it is. In the end, everything is give and take and while I do realize that patience can only go so far before it is used up, and I am very grateful for just how patient everyone has been with me when all that I really deserved was a good slap in the face and two weeks notice.

Anyway, in other news I got a hair cut...for 10 US dollars. It might not be quite what I'm used to, but they did a really good job and over all I am satisfied with it. I've been trying some new foods and recipes--avacado-cheese Doritos = delicious; chocolate mousse = workable...I hope--and trying to just get more out of life. It is what it is, and only by swooping low can the bird fly higher. Speaking of flying things, if you ever happen to be in Ueno, I would highly recommend the National Museum of Science and Nature that I mentioned last week. Not only is it a fantastic bargain, but it also has one of the most comically stuffed flying squiggles [sic] that I have ever seen. And with that, this has been another adventure in the austentatious. If you liked me, tell your friends; if you hated me, tell your enemies; and if you didn't care either way, then tell everyone. Good night.

Ep. 15 The Battle Continues (part: 2)

Having managed to claw back up from the dreaded, despairy pit of despondent depression, our hero none-the-less must face an as yet uphill battle on his quest for normalcy. But, as arguments these days seem to turn, he is upon a slippery slope whereby any sudden and small misstep could send him tumbling back down to the dreaded abyss. Will he survive? Certainly certain steps taken so far have helped him reach what appears to be a plateau of concentrated contentedness. What will happen next? Only the future will tell.

So, I have called this post, "Part:1" because I'm going to write about this past week in two distinct modes: external and internal. I have done a lot of thinking in this past week, and it's usually in conjunction with what has gone on around me, be it plans, activities, etc. If this sounds familiar, it's because this was my original part one, but I had writers block, so I switched to the other and was too lazy to edit what I had written in any meaningful way. Don't worry, it's Nano, and no one sane ever edits their nano. Also, it has been bugging me that up until now my posts have matched the number of weeks that I have been here, and that they are now off. I will definitely be able to sleep better with that problem solved. Anyway, here I list before you my adventures of the past few weeks.

1) On The Steps of The (Imperial) Palace
So, after what became my longest week here (breaking down, few breaks, mentally drained, etc.), I decided to finally visit the Imperial Palace in downtown Tokyo. My first stop was the great Tokyo Station, situated just a few blocks away from the main attraction.

The station in miniature.

The station in full.

And a symbol of hopes undashed

I will admit that it is an impressive building. When I first saw it a couple of months ago (wow, it's been that long already) it's grandeur struck me as opulent, and I dubbed it a kind of pseudo Versailles. Now that I have lived within the bounds of Tokyo for a couple of months, that affect has worn rather thin. I am still in awe of its scope, but having seen how glittery and bright Japan can make something, this brick building is starting to appear rather plain. There's something comforting in its relative austerity, though, and I fear that such thoughts may be part of the root of my problems.
 Having left the station with a map's directions in mind, I crossed several streets until my progress was stopped by a small, flittering shape. A hummingbird, I thought, following its ever so graceful path down to drink nectar from a flower. I even remarked out loud that it was the smallest humming bird that I had ever seen, to the apparent amusement of the other tourists waiting for the walk-signal to turn. It was then that I noticed, while snapping pictures of the little guy, that something seemed off.

My, fried...my, little, friend.

It was not that the wings were not beating fast enough, that's clear from the picture. Nor was it somehow not drinking nectar: it clearly was. No, the issue with my little friend was more of the fact that he had two long things poking out of his head. Antenna, to be precise. Now, there were many possible explanations. One, he was somehow a freak of nature; two, he was a genetic experiment to spy on us all. Now, as I had yet to hear of the rise of a super-villain and I have yet to start my own quest of global conquest, those two options seemed rather farfetched. Which led me to option three: I was starring at either a strange bird-bug hybrid, the like of which Godzilla and Mothim are legends, or I was staring at a very large moth. Meet the Hummingbird Hawk Moth, a creature spread out over Asia, Europe, and Southern Europe. They are about the size of a small bird, and if that doesn't terrify you on some level, then you are obviously the dream of what all entomologists wish they could be.
Having left my fearsome friend behind, I entered into  the imperial grounds. Due to it being a slightly damp day, the locale was fairly empty. Being from Oregon, this fact confused me until I remembered that most people don't like going out into the rain. I will simply show what I encountered, including some of the best pictures that I have ever taken, because to do otherwise would be a disservice to this place.

A good view of the palace itself, which is naturally beyond normal access.

A famous gate whose name escapes me.

Another view of an imperial building, and one of my favorite pictures.

A panorama shot of the Eastern Gardens.

Old meets new.

According to the plaque, this is simultaneously a dolphin and a fish. I think creepy demon-spawn would be better.

An interesting lamp-post reminiscent of Narnia.

One of the oldest remnants in the compound.

Nothing special, I just liked the picture.

An old cellar.

Another picture of the Eastern Gardens.

So, yeah, I had a lot of fun. I got to see some impressive sights, and due to the weather it wasn't too crowded. Afterwards, feeling piqued, I decided to head back to the station to get some food. However, I accidentally left by a different gate than I had entered, and had to walk around the complex to get to where I wanted to go. And what did I find, but a Subway, sitting there across the road. Now, I have been very good up to this point about not eating American fast food; I have heard that it is different, but gosh darn it, I'm in Japan. I can experience that stuff everywhere, I can't get most Japanese food anywhere. However, temptation's pull was too strong, and so I entered to devour a familiar bite. When compared to the US, the options were paltry, being only a few vegetable, bread, and sauce options. Where they excelled, though, was meat. They had so many meats, from ham to shrimp to salmon. If you wanted meat on your sandwich, this was the place to go. Sadly, being vegetarian, I did not. What I ended up getting was an egg sandwich with all six vegetable options and a dried tomato sauce. It was delicious, and everything tasted fresher than what we get to, "eat fresh'' back in the states.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I did some souvenir shopping for friends, saw some interesting sights, and picked up this...

 Meet Cheeky. There I was inside a giant SEGA arcade, realizing that they had prizes for everything but SEGA characters, when I saw him in a claw machine. He was so perfectly perched, ready to fall, that just a little nudge to his head would make him mine. Why the head and not the perfectly grab-able body? Because he is immensely head heavy. Whatever he has up there, it's not of this world. So, 200 yen later, Cheeky fell from the claw machine, saving me 600yen that he would have cost elsewhere. Why do I mention this story? Because, as many people know, I am quite good at claw machines, to the extent that I have probably made a profit from them over the years.
 After that, I decided that it was time to go home...after I dropped/ lost my Willamette beanie in Yodobashi. Twice. Once I got home, I was exhausted, but it had been a very good day.


2) A Long-Expected Lunch
In some follow-up training, I met a teacher who works at the next school over who also happened to be new and having a hard time. So, we messaged each other and decided to have lunch, which was a lot of fun. We're both feeling rather miserable right now, so the knowledge that we are not alone in this is very helpful and uplifting.
We ended up going to an Izakaya, which is roughly the Japanese equivalent of a pub, since it was open. The interior was largely empty, though a tad smoky. I don't feel like writing too much about this any more. Long story short, we talked about a lot of things, I asked if they had takoyaki (fried octopus) in Japanese, because my friend wanted some and couldn't find it on the menu. We then got on the train, but it was so packed that we both got off at his stop and went to his apartment to wait until things got less insane. While waiting, the furniture that he ordered from IKEA showed up. Being a techy, I could tell that his knowledge of how to build furniture was slightly better than his Japanese...at least that's how it looked from the start. So, I built his furniture while he helped. And he did a good job of it. Together we built a bed, a couch, and a nightstand. After that, I went home, satisfied that I had helped someone and excited for the following morning.

3) Nikko, or how I Got Lost and had Many Adventures
So, the next morning I awoke at 5:30AM to get ready. I had breakfast, showered, and made my lunch...and barely missed the 6:30 train. That's OK, I thought, the next one will get my there right on time. I then realized that I had forgotten to refill my water bottle. So, I returned to my apartment, filled it up, and walked back to the station with a few minutes to spare. Then, what did I find, but I had misplaced my SUICA card. A few minutes of frantic searching later, I realized something else: my train was leaving. I had missed my train. There have only been a few times in my life where I have felt so awful that it felt as though the whole world was falling out from under me. This was one of them. Because this trip to Nikko had been so carefully planned by my amazing co-worker...for me. And I was going to be late. With that fact in mind, I resolved to get to Nikko. A couple more missed trains later, I finally figured out how to get my ticket. However, by the time that I finally got to the station, I had missed the bus for our tour group. However, there was a train to Nikko (I didn't have enough for the express line), and so began my Odyssey.
My first train ride was not very exciting. I got to see some nice sights, got to read, work on learning Katakana a little bit, and did a little bit of writing. When I finally got to Utsonomiya, where the Nikko line was, I was rather excited. It took me a few minutes to find the train, but when I did I was stunned.

Don't you mean Hogwarts

It was very reminiscent of certain magical trains, and so I boarded...or tried to. I followed someone on, and he must not have noticed that I was behind him, because as I was entering...*clunk* the door closed on me! As in, literally I was squeezed by the door. So, I was feeling a little down. However, I was invited to sit next to an older Japanese couple who had seen the whole thing. And then I started talking to them, and they started talking back. I only spoke English, they only spoke Japanese, but somehow we got a conversation going. The scenery quickly changed from urban to mountainous, very reminiscent of the Cascades. And as it did so, I oohed and awed, because it was so amazingly beautiful. A few stops in, the old couple departed, but not before giving me a gift.

A bottle of green tea. I don't know if such a thing is common, or why they did it, but it meant something to me. In return, I gave them a pack of Skittles, because you cannot find them over here, and they just happened to be on me.
Following the departure of my new friends, I decided to try talking to the man across the way, because he looked lonely and the American sitting next to me was giving me the, "don't you dare talk to me," vibes of the serial douche. So, I sat down next to the man across the way, and asked, "are you American?" His replay, "No...sorry...espanol [darn you google and your lack of diacritical marks]." Ah, Spanish. I took classes for sixteen years, so I am quite good at it. And so, we talked. He was from Spain, and had come to Japan on vacation for 11 days. This was his eleventh day. He had not had a conversation up until this point because he spoke neither English nor Japanese. As such, that he could have someone to talk to was an obvious relief. He had come to Japan because he liked Japanese food, although he couldn't understand the menus enough to really know what he was eating. We talked for a good half an hour, until we arrived at Nikko and went our separate ways. I don't know what became of him, but I hope that he enjoyed his trip.
So, I spent the morning on an adventure getting to Nikko, and I spent the rest of the day with some of my favorite people in Japan. I won't go into details yet (I need to better sort pictures first), but suffice to say that Nikko is definitely a place that I want to go back to.

4) Ue-yes, Ueno
As with Nikko, I am not going to describe too much here. Ueno is an enormous park in Tokyo. I met a friend there, we went to the Natural History Museum (DINOSAURS!!!!!), which was a really good deal, considering how much we saw and how little it cost. I had a lot of fun, and was absolutely exhausted by the end, and I'm still processing what is going on. Just a couple of stories, though.
The first thing that we did when my friend arrived was had lunch. Ueno Park has a zoo that is famous for its Pandas. As such, all of the food is Panda themed, as evidenced by my omelet.

Yes, that is a very sad Panda, and the fact that I'm in this photo implies that someone else was taking it, which is very exciting because it means that I was not alone in this endeavor. But he was very sad to eat, particularly when I ate his nose; however, as he was also delicious, I didn't really care.
The other exciting part with my friend--well, that I'm going to share here--was in the natural history museum. I think that the photo can speak for itself:

Oh hi, taxidermy-aardvark

 They have a stuffed aardvark, and I got a picture with it, in my OES sweatshirt. Because I am a nerd like that. Anyway, my friend was absolutely fantabulous, and I loved spending time with her, but arguably some of the cooler things happened before she got to Ueno.

For one, when I got there the choir of the metropolitan building was giving an impromptu concert...of Miyazaki music. Hearing such familiar tunes ringing through the park, winged by the voices of humanity, was breath taking. Music transcends language, so this was something that I could enjoy with everyone, something that could be understood by us all without the need for such monumental walls as words. It's funny, I never understood why people went to concerts before, but after that moment, I suddenly began to understand just what I had missed for so many years.
After listening for a few minutes, I went to explore the park. I stopped by two shrines. One, down in the middle of a lake on an island, had this symbol:

clearly printed everywhere. Now, I know that this preceded Zelda, but it's still cool to see, and nice to revere with reason. This is the Bentendo, a shrine dedicated to the Japanified version of the Hindu Goddess Saraswati, Benzaiten. It is an immensely holy place, where the tradition of Japanification of outside ideas is well represented.

Following my visit to the Bentendo, I visited the Buddhist shrine. And there, I found what remains of the Ueno Daibutsu, or Buddha statue:

Once a monument to faith, it is not no more than a face rightfully enshrined. The face is all that is left, which is kind of fitting and ironic. Buddhism teaches that to find true happiness, one must let go of the material world and become one with all. In that sense, this Daibutsu has achieved that goal by ridding itself of its body. However, perhaps the vainest aspect of our body is our face, one of our greatest links to individual identity. That one link is all that is left. Mayhaps one day, this Daibutsu can complete the transformation, but until then it shall be worshiped. And how is it venerated? With a simple offering.

A small tangerine, perhaps of mindfulness, waiting to fulfill the quest of many to find, within this world, the truth behind what it means to be truly happy. Also, being a good tourist, I asked a buddhist monk if it was alright that I take these photos before I took them. He said yes, and then tried to help me on my path of detachment via the purchase of numerous soul saving items from the gift shop. Apparently he had been taking notes from the 16th century Catholic church. While I did leave with one small item, it was the experience that benefited me the most.

As one final note, while my dog is doing well--if a little sore--my grandfather is not doing as well. I hope that they both have a speedy recovery, and admit that they are on my mind. Anywho, this has been another adventure in the austentatious. If you liked me, tell your friends; if you hated me, tell your enemies; and if you don't care, then tell everyone. Until next time, adieu.

Ep. 14 The Battle Continues (part: 1)

Facing many trials and tribulations, our hero turns inward to examine the many facts and facets of what may or may not come to pass. What he finds is a dubious mental maze, simultaneously straight and strange. Will he find his way out, or will he force himself down an eternal number of dead ends? Only by the good graces of time will such decisions be revealed, as the truth may lie around any corner.

So, I have called this post, "Part:1" because I'm going to write about this past week in two distinct modes: external and internal. I have done a lot of thinking in this past week, and it's usually in conjunction with what has gone on around me, be it plans, activities, etc. However, the two can still be thought of as different, because while the events have all been separate, the thoughts have sort of melded together.

When I'm feeling down, I always have a bit of a system to make myself feel better. First, I try to put a positive spin on things (I don't have to go to work today, I get to go to work) if I'm looking at them negatively, though this is rarely an issue. Then, I try to list all of the impossible things that I have believed up to that point of the day. If that doesn't work, then I try to list all of the good and amazing things around me that I am lucky to be alive to experience (my apartment is on the second story. I am literally living in a cube that is suspended in midair by the cube beneath it, and therefore up within the etherious substance which at once corrodes my existence and continues it). If that doesn't work, then I try to think of something fun for the day. For example (I've used this story too much already, but one more time won't hurt), one day in my first week, I decided to go to work as Earnest Hemingway pretending to be Austin Schock, and my goal was for no one to find out who I really was. And you know what? It worked. Another time, when I was in college, I decided to see how long I could go without saying the letter 'w'. It was hard, but I went for five whole hours before I broke. It's fun things like that which can bring on a smile in a dark time.

Things have been up and down. While I have never quite gotten back to the point of, "you know, I could do at least two years," I have at least had some moments where getting through this year seems less inferno and more purgatorio, by which I mean that it will be less a time of abject suffering and more a time of general, bland contentment. That's not to say that I cannot find any joy in this place, far from it, but more that there is just something wrong.
And that's the problem. I really enjoy living in Japan. I really enjoy teaching, and more and more I am finding that I really like teaching older child students--read High School. I have figured out most of the more difficult parts of living here, and have begun to thrive in a way that I never knew I could. Everything is going well, everything feels as though it's falling into place, and therefore I feel that I should be happy here. But, overall, I'm just not, and I don't know why.

One of my earliest memories comes from when I was still learning a lot of English. I had figured out that if someone asks you a, "do you want?" question, and you say yes, then they will give it to you. We were in Costco buying groceries, and my parents asked me if I wanted an orange something. I didn't know what the word was, but it had to do with one of those free samples. Then my parents said a pair of words that I recognized, "orange juice." Yes, I thought, I wanted orange juice. But I did not get orange juice, instead I got this weird frozen orange thing. Looking back at it, my parents wanted to know if I would like an orange Popsicle sample, and had probably said that it was like orange juice. But I didn't understand that at the time. I had been promised orange juice, and had been denied. I know that they got me at least one more, because I was starting to throw a tantrum, but I was just really frustrated. I had been promised something, my expectations had been dashed, and I did not have the ability to understand what was going on, nor to express how I felt.

I bring up this story for a couple of reasons. The first, and most apparent, is that this kind of frustration is what I feel right now. I don't know why I am unhappy, what reasons would conspire to rob me of my joy; I only know what I feel, and I cannot express it to myself or to others. And that's a really frustrating occurrence, mostly because I feel as though I should be able to at least express it to myself. I teach English, and here I sit having the same problem as many of my students do with my own language.
That's not to say that I don't have theories of what is going on. It could be that I'm reacting badly to the sense of impermanence of it all. I like to be someone who, to use the phrase, puts down roots. True, I could do this job until I die, but with the high turnover rate--especially with my position--that doesn't feel like a very probably option. It could also be--within the same vein--that there is no strong feeling of continuation in my work. I like to think in the relative short term--say five years--but I also like to link it to the long term of, minimum, a decade and usually much longer. I don't have that kind of historical connection at my work place as most of us are relatively new. That this job has a steep-yet-quick learning curve helps mask this fact, but it still makes me feel as though what I'm doing is not going to matter much in the long run because, due to high turnover, I am very easily replaceable. There are so many applicants for my position--and I expect everyone else's--that I cannot help but have the feeling that most of us could easily have been swapped with someone else and yet still things would have proceeded as they have. That is not to say that I do not respect or admire my co-workers--far from it, and I think that they all do excellent jobs--but that, for me at least, I don't feel as though what I'm doing is all that special.
To top things off, while I love my alone time, I also love to feel that I am part of a deep community that is linked not on superficial-surface aspects, but on a deeper, more personal connection. Here in Japan, though, that superficial-surface aspect of people is what is held in higher respect. Everything is about making sure that things appear as good and bright and optimistic as possible. There are, of course, cracks in the surface--yes, I am thinking economically at this point--but so long as the surface remains whole, the underlying issues can be ignored. And I am fine with that, and I am glad that it makes them happy, but this drive to have a focus on appearance does not jive with my base personality very well. Basically, I cannot find seem to create the kind of community that I want to live in--the kind that is in my area, the kind that prizes small connections over big ones, the kind where, "what value do you most treasure in your friends" is considered a better question than, "who is your favorite/ crushies/ adjectivest actor?"

Overall, these are just thoughts and ideas of what might be some causes of this generally wrongness for me. I will say it right here and right now, however, that I am learning a lot from this experience. For one, I am learning many skills that will help me later in life. For another, I am learning how to better empathize with people who I disagree with on some fundamental issues. I used to blindly wonder why acceptance could be very hard for some people, when it seems the only thing to do for me. After all, why try to change someone and reduce what it means to be human, when you can instead accept and expand for both yourself and all of humanity? The answer, I have learned, is fundamentally about culture. All human beings, whether they be introvert or extrovert, hermit or nudist(?), outgoing or ingoing, have a need to feel as though they belong. This belonging could only exist as far as the person, or it could extend out to reach large, multinational groups of people. Regardless, some people never quite feel as though they belong anywhere, but find places where they belong more than others...and this is getting weird and isn't quite what I want to say. Basically, people need to belong, have culture, have a way to organize the world and themselves, and basically to live. The term central pole comes to mind, but isn't quite right. Regardless, we all tend to need these things to mentally survive. But when someone--or a large group of someones--come along who are happily living withing a framework counter to that which we have assembled for ourselves, it can be a terrifying revelation. We live within our own framework, and in many ways have deluded ourselves into believing that ours is the only path to happiness. But to find someone living outside of our framework genuinely happy brings up the idea that there are other paths to our personal nirvana. If that is so, then it can call into question the validity of our own framework. What if we are not as happy as we could be in another framework? What if what we have been living under is a lie, and the true path to happiness rests in another's way? Our bedrock begins to tremble and shake in the ensuing chaos, until we at last either accept what is going on, or utterly fight back against such a notion. In that case, we fight back even harder against other notions, hoping to wipe them out so as to rid ourselves of any question and doubt.
So, which is the better way, to fight back or to accept? My instinct is to accept, and by doing so I must concede that in some cases fighting back against any acceptance might be the better path. But as for right here and right now, I still find acceptance to be the better path. Even for those who may hate and revile me, even for those who think I should change, even living within a culture whose very core sense of what is important is seemingly irreparably distant from my own, I must accept all of those things. The best that I can do is to attempt to leave a community with my imprint, a hybrid that can help cross the cultural divide. These things take time, which is why I have no plans to leave as of yet, but I fear that my time in Japan is going to be a constant struggle between what I want and what I need. I want to stay here, teach, and finish out my contract, but I need to get out of this place. While my wants supersede my needs, I will stay. However, if my needs ever overcome my wants, then away I shall leave, never again to return to this manner of living.

Whooo, did that get a little deeper than I thought it would. Like I said, I brought up the story earlier for two reasons. One, the above, is that it best reflects my current emotional standing. The other is that it reflects my language development. Aside from a couple of phrases, I'm not really sure how well I can speak Japanese. I don't know many words, and I have not tried beyond a single phrase in an izakaya (please see part: 2). However, the other night I had a dream in broken Japanese. That fact, coupled with the way in which I could intuit what the bank people were telling me the other day and that I would stand at the correct door of the train before the English translation came on seems to indicate that I am developing an intuitive knowledge of Japanese. I have only been here about two and a half months, so I would say that I'm doing fairly well with the language. What puzzles me is that I can't verbally reproduce many of the words that I apparently know, nor do I know where I picked half of these terms up. I was thinking in bed last night, "how would I say my cat is green?" and a complete sentence popped into my head. Things were never quite like this with Spanish, so learning Japanese is progressing in a very different way. It seems to be working, though (*knock on wood*), so we'll see what happens.

Anyway, part: 2 should be posted tomorrow. Before I sign off, I would like to personally thank Dorothy Schock (mum), Alexa (sister), Michael Schock (dad), Angela Schock (step-mom), Janice Schock (grandmother), Bob Schock (grandfather), Kaitlyn, Scott, Chris (the guybrarian), Anne (the awesome one), and Edge (the mathemagician) for their kind written words. I'd also like to thank all of those kind people at Willamette for their awesome spoken words. Lastly, as you can see from the above, what I really need is an emotional connection. While physical things will help me pass the time, they will not help me achieve much real happiness. I do appreciate them, but this is one battle that I am going to have to face (relatively) alone. One little request, though; please hold my beloved little dog, Domanique, in your thoughts and prayers. He's going in for surgery today (Oregon Monday), and if something were to happen, that probably would spell the end of my time in Japan. *Knock on wood*

This has been another (slightly less) exciting Adventure in the Austentatious. If you liked me, tell your friends; if you hated me, tell your enemies; and if you didn't care either way, tell everyone. Please stay tuned for part two, published in the morning.

Ep. 13 The Pression

In light of recent events, our regular and unusual tales of doom, duels and dandelions has been suspended until next issue.

So, short post tonight--which might help to explain why there was no post last week--and then a possible addendum later (or maybe another post, I don't know). I am homesick. Now, to say that this is a first would be untrue; we all go through homesickness at one time or anther. However, there is a difference between homesickness surrounded by people, and homesickness alone. For most of my time here in Japan, I have been culturally, socially, and linguistically isolated. And, in October, it has gotten worse every week. This, I will just say, has nothing to do with the company that I work for. On the contrary, everyone there has been wonderful, supportive, and incredibly nice to me, and I adore them all. Rather, what I have come to realize is that I may have jumped in a little over my head. I have never lived alone. I have never held a corporate job. I have never lived outside of Oregon. In short, I have no life raft of familiarity to cling to over here, and last weekend things came to a boil. In short, I lost it. I broke down. I was wandering Konosu, discovering new and exciting things, when suddenly I started to cry and I just didn't know why. I just felt so lost, so empty, and so alone; it was like no matter what I was doing over here everything was going wrong and it was all my fault for not being smart/ mature/ worldly enough to know what to do in a situation that I should have learned how to get out of by now. I wondered why I was here, and what I was doing wrong that was leading to my isolation. I was friendly, I said hello to people, I went out and left my town nearly every weekend at least once and did something. I even talked to my friends and family back home at least once a week over video, and many more times over text. Yet, no matter what, I wasn't happy, and I had to question why I was staying some place if I wasn't happy.
It got really bad, to the point that I probably wasn't safe living on my own. The week previous, on and off, I had considered just buying a plane ticket and ending up back in Portland to never live abroad again. Why didn't I? Well, two reasons. For one, it would have been an utter disservice to my students about whom I care the most. It would leave them confused, and my workplace utterly in chaos. Such an act would have had many regrettable ramifications, all of which were entirely avoidable. The second reason is my stubbornness. There is a Japanese proverb that goes: The nail that sticks out gets hammered down, an aspect of society that is not so much intentional as expected. Every culture has a set of such unintentional expectations, and they are neither good nor bad. However, as many who know me will attest, I am not easily hammered flush with the rest of society. It's not that I strive to stand out, it's that I don't see the point in being miserable just to fit in. That same stubbornness that prevents me from being easily assembled into this society is yet the same stubbornness that may well see me through to the end of my contract; a subtle irony that I am not unaware of.
Yet that still begs the question: why am I still here? Well, many who know me and have come for advice have received one crucial suggestion: talk about it. It boggles my mind how many people, when confronted with an issue, will go to intense lengths to solve it, yet will never do such a simple task as talk about it. I talked about it with friends and family from home. I talked about it with my fellow staff members. But, perhaps most importantly of all, I talked about it with my trainer, and with some of my fellow newbie teachers. In my trainer, I found a fantastic resource who has gone through this, "trough" as he called it and who could give me advice to guide me. From my fellow newbies, I found a group of people far subdued from our first few weeks in Japan, plus some new people as well. Most of us were going through these feelings in some way, shape or form; most had it easier than me, but some had it worse. And with all of these things in my mind, I have made a decision: I am not going home yet, but nor have I decided to fulfill my contract to the end. This year was always going to be hard--I knew that going in--and perhaps the best way to make a hard thing easier is to address it in chunks. So, I will address the issue month by month. At the end of every month, I will ask myself, "can I see myself surviving this for another month?" If the answer is yes, then I will stick around. If the answer is no, then I will alert the company that the next month will be my last. My current goal is to make it at least to New Years. It is a regrettable state of affairs, but it is how things are. Other factors, of course, will play into it. If it becomes unsafe for me to live alone, then I will return to Portland as soon as possible. So far, things are looking up; today I had lunch with a newbie friend who happens to teach in the next school over, and tomorrow I get to go to Nikko with my colleagues, a trip that I am very excited and thankful for.
I shall end this post with a couple more notes. First off, I am adding my blog posts to my nano total. I could see myself publishing these entries into a more cohesive whole one day, so I see nothing wrong with doing so. Also, if I did not add it to my total, I might not write, which is a very therapeutic way to process my adventures. Secondly, I have a proverb of my own that I try to live by over here: the best reed is the one which bends but does not break. Lastly, I will still say that being in Japan has been an amazing experience. I have learned so much, both about life and about myself. Even though it has been hard, I would still recommend this experience to anyone. Anyway, this has been a (perhaps) somewhat-less-than-exciting Adventure in the Austentatious. If you like me, tell your friends; if you hated me, tell your enemies; and if you felt ambivalent either way, then tell everyone.