No Love for No-Da

I was so excited when I successfully applied for a job working in the Tokyo area.  Little did I realise that the Tokyo Area encompasses about a 200 kilometre radius.  I was in the sticks....again.  This time I was working at The Tokyo University of Science.  A place chockers with thousands of the nerdiest guys you ever laid eyes on.  Teaching at a uni sounds fancy though doesn't it?  However, it wasn't.  I was involved in teaching extra-curricular English lessons for the top subdivision of "Nerds Grande", who would rather sit for even longer in a classroom, asking their neighbour 3 things he did last night......"Gee dude I'd rather not say"....... It was a strange program. My job consisted of teaching exactly the same lesson, six or seven times in a row everyday, to six or seven different groups of students.  It made me go insane.  Often I would have bad deja-vu while standing at the whiteboard - unsure if I was repeating myself or saying something enlightening to my current group for the first time.  I'd freeze up like I was having a stroke....and perhaps I was.  I have the genetically inherited resting pose - also known in my family as "stroke arm", to go with that theory.

The closest resemblance I can find

I worked with six male teachers.  Two were awesome, one I argued with everyday- but I think we still liked each other, another two were unfortunate - but not completely fucked.  But there's always one.....in this case Dan "The Man", a morbidly obese, former disc jockey for some hick American radio station.  We clashed.  Often,  And in the end almost violently.  Luckily not quite.  Dan The Man could have broken me like a twig.  He would've had to catch me first though.   He sure wasn't the ducking and weaving type. One of my co-workers was always on about him lurking around his lessons, trying to sleaze all over a couple of the only female students we had.  I thought he was exaggerating.  He wasn't.  I think old Danny Boy got fired for sexual harassment after the students officially complained.  The poor girls.  The man was sweatier than a drug mule about to have a frisky pat down by Indonesian airport security.  Which also meant, that during a hot Tokyo summer he used to really stink as well.  Every time I walked into the teachers room, he was in there working his way through his second bag of bakery treats, sweating, dribbling and stinking with all the windows closed.  He called me "little lady", and whenever I would say I was just going to the bathroom; he would always say "Bathroom huh?  What you gunna do in there have a bath???"  "No Dan, but maybe you should try that yourself sometimes".

Teaching English can sometimes make you bitter (Noooooo you don't say.......).  Sometimes you accidentally direct this pent up moodiness at the fifth student in a row that repeats "Nothing Special" when you asked them what they did on the weekend.  But often you turn it on your co-workers instead.  It was for the best.  Writing this blog is kind of like a therapy.  For years I've been thinking "God dam it I worked with a lot of dickheads".  Now I'm starting to have the uncomfortable realisation that just maybe, all that time, it was me.   I was the grumpy, difficult to work with, bitchface.  Actually, nah....it was definitely them.

The town I worked in didn't help matters.  In my imagination (before touching back down in Japan);  I saw myself briskly strolling through the bright lights of Shibuya with a clipboard (all my career fantasies feature clipboards).  I dreamt of taking the lift to my modern apartment on the 55th floor and looking out over the pumping metropolis,  right in the heart of bustling Tokyo.  Instead I lived in Noda.  A town famous for having the head-quarters of the Kikkoman Soy Sauce factory, and reportedly, a ninja school.  I was always on the look out for ninjas - but never spotted one.  Apparently being all stealth-like is a distinctive feature of your average ninja, so my non-detection was apparently unsurprising.  Supposedly, a lot of gaijin (foreign) ninjas trained there.  Well, I did see a few Westerners around, but they looked like big brutes in tucked-into-jeans polo shirts, rather than your lithe, somersaulting, black jumpsuit-wearing types.  I wasn't convinced.  

There was no mistaking the existence of the Kikkoman head quarters though.  Sometimes when the wind caught the fumes emanating from that huge factory, my apartment would suddenly be filled with the stink of yeast at 3am.  It was so strong that it would wake me from the deepest sleep.  Then, all I could do was bury my head in my bean filled pillow, and try and block it from going up my nostrils.  These days, every time I see Kikkoman's in the shop I get a pang of revulsion.  I also can't stand Soy Sauce Warrier Kikkoman.  I want the ninjas to kick his fishy head in.....So yes, my 12 weeks in Nodashi was not my finest time.  Three of those weeks were also spent on crutches after the great foot slashing incident of '06,.  And one of those three weeks was spent scrubbing blood off my carpet (See my earlier entry http://twintravelling.blogspot.jp/2012/03/sick-of-being-sick.html).  Let me just also mention that the train station had three large flights of steps each end, and no elevators.  That's rough travelling on a pair of over-sized wooden crutches from 1850.  

Soy Sauce Warrier Kikkoman (what a loser) - didn't see him in the streets either

It wasn't all soy sauce and sweaty perverts.  I did have a bit of fun as well. Went to a baseball game, saw a piece of toast driving a car, and met a beaver. 

Travelled into the city to see your odd summer festival.

Or your odd weirdos.......

Discovered that new flavour of Baileys - Creme Caramel and spent a lot of time snoozing as a direct result of the discovery.....

Anyway, you live and learn.  Apparently I didn't because I signed up for another semester with the same company.  To my joy, I had scored a job teaching in the city centre of Tokyo itself.  To my horror I was living way out in the sticks and had a huge commute on my hands, and another, even more evil, "Dan The Man" to contend with.....Let the good times roll, and the Creme Caramel flow......

Sleeping Cuties

I've got to put it out there.  A month spent sleeping in the same room as our children has not done me, or my baby daddy, any favours.  Over it.  It's true I had snow as my consolation....but snow doesn't snuggle up well at night.   The little buggers sure make enough night time noise that's for sure.  All that whimpering and tossing about.  One talks in her sleep a lot too (just in case she didn't quite say enough crap during the day).  Just this second, she called out "Did I break it, BREAK IT?"  I can't believe she has dreams about breaking shit, as well as actually doing it in waking life as well.  And while I was just in the bath, she rolled out, and was snoozing on the floor.  How could you not wake up from that?  I'm not complaining, just incredulous.   At least it's a glorious straight through slumber these days.  How is it when they start doing that consistently after a year of broken sleep?  Hallelujah.

We started travelling with the girls just before they turned three months old.  In those days we needed a lot more baby gear than we do now.  We also used to carry along two of those travel cots, as getting our hands on two cots in some hotels or apartments was often a bit tricky.  Those travel ones are the goods - easy to set up and dismantle.  Get ones with wheels, then you can rock the little screamers to sleep.  And what new, zombie-like mother doesn't love that fun night time activity?  It's up there with an all-nighter assignment-writing frenzy of desperation.  Those travel cots are reasonably cheap though,  if you leave them behind (or throw them off the balcony - with or without child inside, it's up to you), and have to buy new ones.  Sometimes apartment landlords will charge you to set up a cot or two - but it's not usually too much.  Always ask them to sort it out for you too, if you plan on  travelling without your own.  Many people use baby hire services for cots, strollers, car seats etc when they get to a new city.  However, I've never tried it.  Mainly because it's cheaper to carry your own, you know it works, it hasn't got other brats ground in body secretions on it, and you don't have to organise it in advance - get delivery/pick it up etc.

It's great when they graduate to beds though.  Another 2 things less to carry.  Our twins did, just before two years old.  Now we can get a hotel room with one roll away bed, and they sleep top to tail.  As in right this very minute.  Many hotels - especially in Japan, charge for an extra bed (which is why we go the shared option), but some won't, so just check before booking.   We've done the bed sharing thing with them before, but somehow it always ends in disaster.  Perhaps a resilient case of jet lag drags you, by close proximity, into their still conscious living hell.  Or perhaps far worse.  Once, when faced with the only option of all sleeping in one small bed in a business hotel (this is extremely inadvisable, and was only done because we were fleeing Japan after the earthquake/tsunami/nuclear slam), we tried to spend time out of our tiny room by milling about and getting some dinner.  There was no food in the entire town except packaged crap.  We fed it to our children.  Predictably, and in the middle of the night, Cordi released a technicoloured yawn across all of us.  Then, just after I cleaned it all up, rinsed my fringe, and laid towels down, she did it again.  That smell just lingers on and on doesn't it?  No wonder my ex-boyfriend's flatmate hated my guts forever more, after I heaved down his hallway one Saturday night following too many B52s at The Mayfair Tavern.
You can also make up 'beds' on the floor with pillows or cushions - or whatever you find.  At least you know they won't roll out.  This was another good thing about the futons we've slept on for the last month.  No sickening midnight thuds.

Because we've travelled since the girls were young, I always had a pretty strict bedtime routine, so that even if they were somewhere new, they knew it was bedtime, and what was coming next.  This is  because it was, and still is, the same way every night. They have always had dinner, a bath, pajamas on, lullaby music (not anymore for that though- I can't take anymore "Pretty Little Horses"- please don't make me.....), teeth done (and/or a bottle until 20 months),  and finally a story in that order.  Even when they were babies, we used to read to them.  However, it was the same story every night for nearly a year, and I burnt it long ago screaming "Die 'Sleepy Bunny' Die".  But,  in retrospect, it was a great way to further get the point across, that this and this happens when it's time to go to sleep.....whatever, sick of it, glad it's ash.  I also try to follow the routine as much as I can on overnight flights...apart from the shower...unless you're travelling Learjet style, as I often am....in my imagination.....while trying to watch The Iron Lady with an elbow up my nostril.  At least they know it's meant to be night time, even if they ignore the hints.

Jet lag can be a real pain in the arse.  Some people advise just to slot them straight away into whatever time zone you end up in in.  That doesn't seem to work for me.  I usually work them into the new time by a couple of hours every night (it can take almost a week sometimes to get them completely back to normal).  I also wake them during the day if naps go on too long.  Some people never like to wake a sleeping baby, but I look at it as more like revenge.....I also find that returning to Australia throws them out something chronic.  You think it would be going back in time - but it's actually going forward that sucks the most.

Sleep is such a big thing for parents of young children.  The first thing people tend to ask you is "Are you getting any sleep?"  Bad question..... "Do I look like I'm getting sleep bitch???"  Avoid asking this - they will hate you for asking if they're not; and you will hate them for getting sleep, when you didn't, if they are.  Anyway,  sometimes the thought of messing up your kid's routine can seriously put you off the very thought of travel.  But don't forget, that you can cope with pretty much any situation, and they can cope better than you.  And lets face it.  They'll pretty much sleep anywhere anyway.....

Lets Enjoying Engrish

So it's our last night on this fine island of Hokkaido.  Tomorrow Tokyo.  Goodbye snow, goodbye Rooters, goodbye Oktoberfest, goodbye my snowboard (gunna toss it - always was a useless piece of crap and now it's a battered, old, useless piece of crap), goodbye snowboarding pants (which are so tight up my fanny, I believe I will never be able to have another baby).  I'm really going to miss it here.  However, I remember the last night I had in Hokkaido, before I left after my 15 month hiatus in the world of English teaching.  Jesus I was glad to go.  I think I wept tears of joy.  There was no way in the world I ever thought I would miss it here.

I was mainly happy to get away from my soul sucking job.  I had a small calendar on my wall in my fluorescent bulb lit classroom, and after I finished work at 9pm every night,  I put a big X in that day's box.  I think it made the days crawl slower doing that, but I couldn't help it.  I had to feel like I was inching closer to the end.   That's how desperate I was to walk out the door of that school, and never go back.  I actually never could go back now, even if I went mentally insane and decided to reapply.  GEOS has gone bust.  Apparently it happened about two years ago, but I never found out until I was making small talk with a dude I met in the cafeteria last week.  He'd worked for NOVA the once largest English teaching company in Japan.  That one went supernova in a giant balls up in 2007.

Yep, the old Eikaiwa (English conversation school) bubble has pretty much burst here in Japan.  Sounds like the collapse of GEOS was the nail in the coffin.  Can I just say though, I'm not surprised.  Firstly, what a rip off.  Poor bloody students are paying an absolute fortune to sit in a stuffy, badly lit room with a foreign loser who can't get a proper job anywhere else.   And who, by the way, can't teach English for shit.  Then they have to embarrassingly stumble through inane conversations about their hobbies and what they did last summer vacation.  It's pathetic.  And I should know.  I was one of those losers.  The only reason I was there in the first place is because I'd just finished the season at Hotham, heard there was ace snow in Nippon from a Japanese ski instructor, and was sick of being a waitress in Byron.  I was a really bad teacher in those days.  Often I would have the lesson preparation book open on my knee under the table, trying to blunder my way through grammar I knew zilch about.  When a student would ask me a question, I would throw it back to the rest of the class thinking I was being really crafty.  They would have known I had no idea what the present continuous from of the verb was.  Just embarrassing.  I cringe at the memory.

What do you mean, you've run out of Easter Eggs????

I taught a lot of kids.  Another rip off.  No wonder the poor parents were so strung out all the time.  Paying a fortune, and all their kid could do was count to twenty, and say "Mon-die, Tues-die" (I taught them my accent).  Before I worked there, one of the mother's had gone so psycho, that a security guard had to be called to take her away.  It's a cut throat business.  I actually had a student who was eighteen months old.  His Mum thought he's be at an advantage if he started early.  Early? The kid couldn't even speak Japanese.  There was no way he was going to progress to talking about the weather anytime soon.  I really did feel sorry for some of those primary school aged kids though.  They would be up at the crack of dawn to travel to school.  Then they would have school all day, six days a week.  After school they would go straight to 'cram schools' so that they could eventually get into the best high schools.  And in the evening they would have English lessons, or ballet lessons, or music lessons.  Sometimes it was all I could do to keep them awake.  When asked what they most wanted to do on the weekend, the overwhelming majority would reply with longing in their voices..."Sleep!"  It's tough to be a child in the Japanese school system.

Little did Tsubasa's mother know that she'd already carved out a future for her antisocial son

Sometimes this sleeping tendency could be used to my advantage for the under fives.  Young Japanese children have a reputation for being maniacs.  They aren't disciplined by their parents, and they eat a lot of sugar.  As suggested by my brother, I would often turn up the classroom heating to a toasty 30 degrees.  Then I would lead the rat pack in a few vigorous rounds of "Head Shoulders Knees and Toes".  Then, like magic they would start to get all hot and sleepy.  So I would get out the pillows and we would all have a little lie down while sensei would get on her mobile and write a few texts to her buddies back home.  Worked like a charm.

It's not an exciting job.  Although once I nearly had a baby born in my class.  My student, who was eight months pregnant was in the middle of telling me how she was the boss and 'wore pants' in her household.  Suddenly she got up from her chair - looking really embarrassed and said that she had to go.  And bolted.   The other students then alerted me to the fact that there was liquid all over the floor.  "What is it?" I asked.  One of the students got out her translator - typed a few words in and then announced "Maybe it's urine".  All the other students nodded in agreement.  It wasn't.  It was amniotic fluid, and baby Masahiro was born 4 hours later.

My hobbies are eating, howling and shitting

I also had a very unusual man called Kouichi who would have a private lesson once a week.  One of my lowest points over that entire year, was sitting in his lesson on Christmas day while he did the action of how I should soap my body up with the shower gel he'd just given me.   I requested he have group lessons after that.  I don't think any of the other women he shared a class with really appreciated his presence either, but it sure took the pressure off me.  He was pretty excited to be in a room with 5 females.  He got extra twitchy.  The gifts kept coming.  One night he presented all of us with large branches from his tree.  We just all sat their holding them trying to go on with the lesson.  It was like a trip to the Black Forest in there.  Another night, I sat absentmindedly eating a bag of cherries he'd given me that evening while I was filling out my daily record.  Suddenly I looked down, and saw to my horror that there were maggots on the page.  The bag was infested.  I think I may have eaten several.

It's that centre crunch that gives the extra flavour burst

At least nobody crapped their daks in my class.  That guy from the cafeteria was telling me that NOVA had a contract with a halfway house for mental patients.  Now HE had some good stories.  Probably the most revolting was the one about the lady who shat her pants in the middle of the class in the tiny hot cubical that passes for a NOVA classroom.  She pretended it hadn't happened, the other students pretended it hadn't happened, so my new friend pretended it hadn't happened.

This is Japanese way of dealing with the majority of embarrassing and socially awkward situations.  Try it sometime, it's a lot easier than cleaning up poo.

Just Act Natural

Even though we were all exhausted, we took the long way back from the 'Oktoberfest' buffet tonight.  Buffets have that way of making you feel like you'd do anything not to feel so full after them, save having a chunder in the toilets. Sometimes walking can help.   I initially always head straight for the salad bar and then end up not touching any of it....gotta save room for all that crab.  In Japan they call buffet style dinners "Viking".  That really cracks me up.  I always think of Vikings as total gluttons in their eating habits - all that mead and meat on the bone, shoving it down their gullets with their bare hands....I guess it's pretty close.  There is a shameful amount of piggery going on at a Japanese buffet.  I know I've said it before, but I seriously cannot believe that the majority of Japanese stay so slim.  I really don't get it.  As for myself, well it's a dam good thing that I'm "exercising" everyday, or I'd seriously have to book an extra seat on the plane for my left butt cheek.

Back to my walk home from the buffet.  I couldn't help but notice all the various advertisements for this resort, and others owned by the same company, along the way.  Most of them feature foreigners (from 1989).  It's a funny thing in Japan - foreigners make shit sell.  This first became obvious to me eight years ago, when a friend of mine recommended I contact his mate, who was setting up an agency of foreign 'models' in Sapporo.  'Model' is a huge stretch.  If you'd seen the pamphlet you would understand.  It's actually degrading to be in it.  But like I said, foreigners are in huge demand, and although I expected nothing would happen, I actually got a little bit of work.  This was forbidden by my company, but I figured - hey, they'll never know.

My first job was at a hotel right next to my company's main head quarters in the city (the irony).  It was for a 'Wedding Fair'.  Western style weddings are very popular here.  It mainly consisted of lots of waiting around before being dressed up for some photos.  When they were through with me, I was not a pretty sight.  They had dressed me in mauve taffeta with puff sleeves, and my hair was arranged in a bouffant.   I'm not sure if they were imaging me as mother of the bride, but that's how it came out.  Truly dreadful.  I had my photo taken with two of the Japanese models who looked amazing.  I looked like their chubby host mother from Texas.  I was there with a friend of mine who was looking suave, and all he did was crack up whenever he saw me and say "Oh, Saunders".  Not exactly the kind of effect you want to have on people.   He's acting in NYC now....I wonder if that Wedding Fair job is on his resume....A week later there was a giant flag up outside the hotel.  With me on it.  There it stayed for weeks.  Surprisingly undetected.  I like to think that a dumpy, mauve-wearing matron with a beehive is unrecognisable as me......Or maybe they just weren't expecting me to be so bold....

The next job I did was for a visiting company from Tokyo who were making a 'mockumentary' about a German ski champion.  I was auditioning as his wife.  I had to go for the interview after work late one night.  It was so bizarre.  Picture me sitting on the edge of a bed in a hotel room absolutely packed floor to ceiling with costumes - no space at all.  There's me, dressed in some tarty red number they instructed me to put on, being given the once over by the directors and producers.  I had a bitch haircut.  Jet black fringe and bob.  One of the directors gave me a glass of red, and instructed "Do Uma Thurman - Pulp Fiction".  I was unsure where to go from there - I had no lines, I just had to drink a glass of wine in the film and smile - that was it.  Apparently I'm a wine drinking natural, because I got the part.  Lots of sitting around again.  It turned out to be a good thing I didn't have any lines, because the whole thing was in German.

A particularly strange job I had next, was to pre-record a wedding announcement in English for a Japanese couple who were getting married at a reception centre called Ans Bruge.  God knows why they wanted a Australian accent (in particular my Tassie drone), but a couple of hundred bucks for 15 minutes work had me sold.  I had to say something like this;
"We are gathered here today, March 3rd 2005, to celebrate the marriage of Ryosuuke (that took a few takes) and Yukie.  Today is a special day, the beginning of a powerful journey of love taken by this young couple....(I was instructed to really build the excitement in my voice)....So now there is nothing further to do but......(major excitement now)  Let the Ans Bruge wedding party.....COMMENCE!!!!"
Maybe I should do something similar for my own impending nuptials.

But perhaps my most 'starring' role was an TV advertisement for a product called 'Vitaflux'.  Sounds like a particularly powerful laxative doesn't it?  Actually it was a magnetic bracelet, reputed to cure a myriad of aches and pains.  I was a secretary with a bad neck, turned onto Vitaflux by my Russian coworker, and thus being cured, shouted it's praises from the roof tops.  It was a very cheesy, late night infomercial style advertisement - fake laughing with joy at discovering Vitaflux etc etc.  Despite my secret belief I am an incredible actress still awaiting discovery, I was awful.  I also had a pimple so large that it should have had it's name in the credits.  Every 5 minutes they had to keep breaking to apply another layer of foundation and then powder.  And it was still blindingly obvious. Perhaps more so...all that build up.   Months later at home,  when I showed the DVD of my stellar performance to my two best friends, all they could say was "Oh my god - your PIMPLE!".  Anyway, this time I'd gone a bit too far.  Students started recognising me on TV and I had to start quieting them with chloroform.  I must say though, there is nothing quite like seeing your advertisement on TV-  unexpectedly and for the first time, to break up the current fight you're having with your lover.

So thus ended my 'modelling career' in Japan.  Lot's of people keep telling me that Valli and Cordi should go into advertising here, but I think it's venturing into 'Toddler and Tiara' territory.  I would slide too easily into the role of living out my frustrated dreams though my children.  And if I keep eating at the 'Oktoberfest' I'll soon have the figure to go with it........

Advance Australia Fair

Rusutsu Resort is really close to the Aussie favourite - good old Niseko.  "Niseko" refers to 6 different resorts - 4 of which are inter-connected and can be skied on one ski pass.  They get a hell of a lot of snow there.  Over 15 metres annually and at present they have well over 4 metres of base.  Nearly 5 metres on one of the resorts.  The snow is plentiful, but not as dry as the rest of the Hokkaido snow.  It's because the weather blows in mainly from Siberia.  Translation; it's fucking cold there.  Anyone who  has been lucky enough to ski there will know first hand just how bad the weather can be.  But then suddenly it will clear, and after 5 days of whiteout, smack bang in front of your eyes is Mt Yotei, the 'mini Fuji' of Hokkaido.  It's an extinct volcano and quite the impressive sight it is too.  I got engaged in front of it (another 'awwwww').  At Rusutsu though, not Niseko, you can see it beautifully from here too.

One of my most favourite past times is to hang shit on Aussies at Niseko.  I feel like I can, because not only am I Australian, I have been to Niseko (got blind and acted like a retard), and will also probably go there again in the future (get drunk and act retarded again - let's face it stranger things have happened).  It's in the same vein as Jewish people making jokes about themselves, or black people calling each other nigga....it's allowed......I think.  But whatever, I'm making my distaste for my fellow countrymen public.  Get over it.....or not....the choice is yours.

Everybody gets a touch of cultural shame regarding the behaviour of their compatriots at some stage.  Australians can be particularly bad.  For one, they think that everybody will love them just because they're Australian.  That's annoying.  And untrue.  The general opinion of Westerners in Japan is basically that we're boorish brutes.  Australians in Niseko hammer this opinion home.  One year a group of snowboarding Aussies stole a car (for fun), and then set it on fire because they got cold out in the snow. There was nowhere to drive it to basically.   Niseko didn't even need to have a police station until the bogan contingent came to town.   Now the new cops in town find themselves breaking up fights in bars, and searching for pissheads who've taken a wrong turn after the bar, and ended up becoming a human popsicle, unfound and unthawed until the snow melts in May.

One night at Niseko, I too descended into my deepest, darkest, drunken boganity.   This was the night I spent strangling the giant snowman until the head rolled free, kicking holes in a snow wall and swearing- in front of a shocked Japanese family, slipping over about 70 times while 'singing' (more like shouting at a million decibels) "I wanna rock and roll all night and party everyday".  I also found myself screaming 'someone give me a fucking cigarette" at the top of my voice from my balcony at 3am, and finally crawling on the ground, searching in the shag pile, for some cocoa flavoured treats I dropped, screeching about their delicious "waxy consistency".  It's on video.  It's not pretty. What can I say...if you can't beat 'em.....

Anyway, right in the middle of the chocolate snack searching chaos, I noticed some sad looking sucker peering in through the windows at the front of our apartment.  I went and opened the window and this poor pathetic voice came through;
"I can't find my hotel, it looks warm in there, can I come in with you?"
The response from my fellow revellers was as follows;
"No way"
"Tell him to fuck off Saunders"
"Get a ciggie off him, then tell him to fuck off".
I went back to the window and explained perhaps now wasn't the best time.
"I heard what they said" he whimpered.  I forgot the window was open.

Perhaps 10 minutes later I noticed he was lying down in the snow in front of our apartment.  Imagining the headline;  "Niseko's Shame : Four Drug Addicted Alchoholics Look On and Laugh as Aussie Battler Freezes to Death".  I went outside to scope the situation.  He actually had his pants down.  I was like; "Get up you scallywag, pull up those pants, get yourself together.  Now off you go"  He was lost.  He tried to hug me. With his pants down.  I put a stop to that right then and there, found a map inside, and although I am shit with directions, I think I managed to get him back on the right track.  Unless it was him who snagged some one's fishing line in early June.  Minus 15 degrees and inebriation....doesn't really work.

A friend of mine went to Niseko in a group of ten.  One of the guys pre-sent a package of marijuana to the hostel he was staying at.  The owner signed for it, as it arrived before they got there.  As soon as the package sender arrived and found out his parcel of good times had made it safely,  he ripped it open in the common room.  It didn't go down well.  Pot is treated as a class A in Japan.  The poor woman who signed for the greenery,  nearly had a heart attack imaging her incarceration in a Japanese jail.    Whatevs - gotta have ya smoko right?  The same crew set fireworks off the balcony at 2am and the fire brigade got called....twice.  Then they all jumped off the balcony into the snow and one of the dudes broke his pelvis.  The next morning his mates buggered off  to rip up the freshies, and left him moaning in agony in bed.  The poor suffering hostel owner had to arrange for his emergency flight home.  This all happened on the first night. I think there was a session of onsen divebombing thrown in there, a few snowboarder vs skier fights, heaps of jostling in the lift lines, and of course lots of bongs and beerus too.  Japan is the shit mo fo's......

"Youse got any beeru's?"

I think I've finished my assault.  So should we all be a bit more culturally sensitive? Perhaps.  Do the Japanese really care? Perhaps?  They're just probably glad snow tourism is still moving the economy along, and I'm sure many people have made a lot of money.  Let's face it, Niseko's a brilliant resort. It deserves it's fine reputation.   Just take a map with you when you go out for Jagerbombs.......

Root-a-toot-toot

It's bloody brilliant here.  I love Rooters.   Deeply.  I would tell all of you to come now, but I don't want you to come and mess up my powder.  By the way, don't you hate it when you're stuck on your board edge, on a particularly treacherous slope/cliff, and all you can manage is sliding down sideways, while taking massive amounts of snow with you.  Then some 18 year old screams out from the chairlift above you; "You're ruining it for everyone dickhead".  I've seen it happen.  But never in Japan. It's much more of an Aussie move.  Powder is scarce in Australia - people get possessive.   It's more likely the 18 year old Japanese powder creamers would call out "Otsukare sama desu" = "You are working really hard", but meaning more like "good job".  I hear them yell it to their friends.   A liftie said it to me the other day when I was particularly flushed and out of breath.  I was like "Thanks Farmer Yuji, so are you with that big glove on a stick and your broom".  I think we bonded.  I'm sure he brushed my chairlift side extra well.   That's another great thing about Japan skiing.  Zero attitude from the locals.  Imagine how much we'd all be spewing if droves of Japanese came over and flicked our snow all over the joint with their pesky skis.  We got huffy enough when they took too many koala pictures on the Gold Coast.

If you don't like tacky resorts, you should also give it a wide berth.  I myself, love it.  If you don't appreciate tack, you are missing out one one of the true joys of visiting Japan.  Once I went especially to visit a lake for the sole purpose of seeing the lake boat, which resembled a fairytale castle.  I'd spotted it in a magazine.  It didn't disappoint.  Rusutsu Resort burst on the the scene right toward the end of the Japanese bubble era.  It would have been revolutionary in it's time.  A delightful mix of Japanese and European charm (with a touch of The States thrown in - they can't resist).  However, hovering in 1989 it has remained, down to the uniforms worn by the bellboys.  It's worn around the edges to say the least.  Yet I like it like that.

The slowest transport on the planet

They went mental on the 'features'.  There is a mini monorail which takes you from our hotel just across the road to one of the 4 (!!) Gondolas- perhaps only 200 metres in total.  It is slow and ridiculous.  We were late to pick up the girls today, as the driver took it especially easy while approaching the tunnel.  Perhaps 2km an hour.  I am not exaggerating.  You could roll faster.  But, there is heating in the seats, which is always a nice addition - rolling in snow does get a little chilly.  How much it cost to build I can only shake my head at.  I bet they're wishing they saved their pennies now and just bought a fleet of shuttle buses......or donkeys.  There is a wave pool too, complete with water slide.  The pool is warm like a bath, with a nice view over the slopes.   The waves roll in every 10 minutes for about 5 minutes of smashing everybody up against the sides.  They're really quite violent.  I remember I took the girls in there last year, and they got washed halfway up the pool and tossed across the steps while I was adjusting my bather top.

I wish I was in Dixie, Hurrah Hurrah

There is a special water show with lighting, to songs from the Sound of Music.  Enough said.  There is also a kind of amusement arcade - and I have mentioned that mechanical dog band before.  Good old Daniel and The Dixie Diggers, still churning out the hits from the Deep South.  Of course there's a games arcade - with more ways to blow a few yen on useless crap that always makes everyone cry because that 'claw' thing is rigged.  It's got no grip.  It also has a 4D theatre.  What is 4D anyway?  I thought 3 was maximum.....Physics was never my strong point...couldn't get past the teacher.  Too gangly with a pointed beard.  Couldn't concentrate.
Valli, Cordi and I went in one of those photo booth things tonight and did girly shots.  I couldn't do it real Japanese girl style and give the"V", as I had a child in each arm.  Felt cheated.  They must enhance certain features in those things, as what the hell is going on there? The eyes....they're not human.... My forehead is also not that large either.  Cordi also got a dose of the alien treatment, Valli never truly looks human anyway.....

Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens

There's something off there

In the special continental section they have a European street facade.  Feels just like you're strolling through the streets of country France with a baguette in one hand saying 'bonjour' to everyone.  Except for not being in Europe, or outside, and not holding a bread stick and also avoiding eye contact.  In the lobby, there's a full sized carousel imported from Germany, with lots of scary looking animals to make your kids cry when you force them to have a ride so you can get some pictures.  Then there's the restaurants.  Most memorable is the German Beer Hall "Oktober Fest" - an all-you-can-eat Japanese buffet.  They don't even bother to pretend it German food...although wait, there may be some mini sausages on there somewhere.  Of course there's beer.  Japanese beer (it's better anyway....).

Tres chic

It wasn't pretty then, and it's no better now

How did they get it in? that's what I want to know

Uneasy

Outside the crazy continues with all sorts of light "illumination" statues, a monstrous sized snowman, and how original - a roller coast park.  It's closed in winter.  But is sure looks good.  Snowboarding alongside it is particularly surreal.

Even all this joy aside.  It's just a bloody top resort.  The snow is excellent.  Really truly excellent.  The tree riding is perfect.  There are a lot of options on and off piste.  Even though out-of -bounds is, well, out-of-bounds, they rarely enforce it, so you can powder cream to your heart's content.  Or mess it up as much as you like.  Not only will nobody be mean to you about how much of a spaz you are, there's more than enough for everyone to enjoy......

Land of the Snow Mushrooms

Beautiful

Home

If touching down in Hokkaido was like coming home, then arriving in Sapporo is like having a big hug from your Mumma.  A cold, unforgiving Mother.  But none-the-less, she's still familiar and you feel a fondness through connection and obligation.  I do really like Sapporo though.  And because of the fact that I spent 15 months here (even though it was eight years ago), it does feel, in a way, like home.  It probably will never be my home again  - but visiting is always a good option.

It was a pretty grim first couple of months that I spent here.  I arrived at the end of March, and there was still a lot of snow and ice in the streets, as there is now.  I had an inkling of foreboding as I touched down at the airport.  It grew as I waved goodbye to my fellow new English teacher, who was on her way to the sticks of Hokkaido.  Then it grew some more when I walked down the corridor of my new apartment, getting a full understanding of what it must feel like to dwell in a psych ward at a public hospital.   When I shut my door, and looked around at the sparse furnishings, I suddenly realised that I was totally and incredibly alone, and in a very cold, strange country.  I didn't understand a word of the language, or the culture, or what I was meant to do when Monday morning came round, and I suddenly had seventy students that needed to learn English.

I did meet one other person over that first weekend.  A friendly fellow teacher who, alas for me, was leaving the country on Monday.  He kept dropping me off boxes of his stuff.  I thought he was being nice, until I realised he was using me as a kind of a human garbage storage unit.  I breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn't get any more crap dumped on me when Monday came.  However, I came home that afternoon to find another box waiting for me on the doorstep.  In it were about 30 dusty video tapes of The Golden Girls (yes, he was gay).  I put one my video player months later, when I was bored out of my mind, and there was so must dust in it that it broke my VHS player.  The other strange item was a CD by an artist (if you can call him that), whose name I forget.  But the CD title was "Loose Shoes and Tight Pussy".  Needless to say, it didn't go platinum.

I found working for a Japanese company soul destroying.  The hours were long, the job was hard and yet simultaneously boring.  I made peanuts.  I was always broke, living pay check to pay check. Working in the corporate world - especially in Japan- was hard for a little hippy slacker like myself.  I didn't have the right clothes.  The guy who trained a group of us in Tokyo upon arrival, took me aside and said my outfits weren't appropriate.  His words; "I can see a lot more at the back than anyone should have to".  It took me a while to cotton on, and then I realised "You can see my crack???!!!"  "Yes I can Emily". I bought a grey polyester pants suit the next day.

I spent all my spare time alone for the first two months.  Sometimes I would go for an entire weekend without speaking one single word.  That kind of shit is hard to take for someone who likes to crap on as much as I do.  Also remember, I had just come from a summer in Byron Bay.  I'd been really enjoying my life - having fun with all my friends, going to the beach everyday, living in a beautiful house in Broken Head with my best friend, going out, working casually, I'd met a new guy.........Initially, I really wanted to leave Japan, but I just couldn't take the whole 'quitting after just two months' factor.  I'd had a goodbye party, sold my car and all my other belongings.  It would have been degrading.

Things got better (they always do don't they?).  I found my Japanese co-workers sweet.  I got in contact with my dear friend who'd gone to the sticks, and another girl (who'd showed me round my school), came back to live in Sapporo, and we became good friends.  I learnt some Japanese.  I got to know my students.  My company eased off the workload.  I had fun.  I chucked out the box of The Golden Girls.  I met a hilarious group of snowboarding ex-pats who became my weekend riding/karaoke/drinking buddies when the snow started.  And by far the best thing of all..... the new guy I'd met in Byron.....Well, he came to visit me, we fell in love in this snowy city and have been happy ever since (everybody..."Awwwwww").

So things aren't always what they seem at first are they now?  We are only here for one night, but it was still fun to pass through.  The very last of my old friends are packing their bags right now to move to Canada, so next time I come back there won't be anyone left to visit.  It was a great time though.  When I look back, even the hard times seem filled with positive nostalgia.  It's those challenging times in your life that make you adjust and grow, and hopefully become a better person.  And ultimately, they make you appreciate ever so much more the really good times (like now!).  Jesus I am turning it on tonight.  Don't worry, I'll be back on the mountain tomorrow and taking about powder and poo again next entry......
So long Sapporo xx