QUESTIONS AND KRAMSWERS

Sukiya's three cheese beef bowl.

From @Ben_BC via Twitter:

Q: What is the best food you've eaten? The worst?

A: This is such a hard question. I've had so much great food since coming here, it's hard to pick just one thing. I wish I could say something super exotic and strange has been the greatest, but I can't.

I really love Sukiya, a restaurant that specializes in gyuudon (beef over rice) and Japanese style curry. I totally avoid their curry (there's a much better game in town for that), but their gyuudon is amazing. I prefer the garlic or three cheese beef bowl.

As for the worst food, I can't stand natto (fermented soy beans). Everything about it disgusts me. The taste, the smell, the texture, the consistency. Just awful. You are supposed to eat it over rice, but I don't know why you would ruin perfectly good rice like that.

Q: Are you really that much taller than everyone?

A: By and large, yes. To be fair, I'm pretty tall, even for an American. I'm 6' 4" (193 cm), so it's not very common that I spot someone who is taller or even as tall as I am, unless they are also a foreigner. Every so often, I'll spot some Japanese guy who is, and it kinda freaks me out. It's not a frequent occurrence, but it happens.

Q: Thing you have geeked over the most?

A: Being a huge Japan geek before ever living here, there were certainly expectations about all the amazing things I would see. For the most part, those things lived up to their promise.

Akihabara, a district of Tokyo known for it's high concentration of geek-centric businesses, was all I'd hoped it would be. Imagine a giant mall (as big as four or five city blocks) full of arcades, comic books, video games, DVDs/Blu-rays, costumes, collectibles, and even themed restaurants and cafes. The streets are plastered with giant billboards advertising the latest anime and games. I love it, and if you're into this kinda thing, you'll love it too.

The rooftop garden at the Ghibli Museum.

I also geeked pretty hard over the Ghibli Museum. Imagine the "magic" of a Disney theme park, but way more chilled out. It was awesome.

The most unexpected thing I geeked out over was a DVD of Anathallo performing live at a venue in Tokyo called o-nest. To my knowledge, this DVD is only available in Japan and did not have a very large print run. I managed to pick it up at Book Off for 500 yen (about 5 bucks). That was a good day.

From @amandaSTROY via Twitter:

Q: How prevalent is mental illness, and which types are the most common?

A: I can't say I expected to get a question like this, but I will try to answer it all the same. I am not a medical professional, so I can only surmise an observational response. Please bear with me.

First of all, Japanese have the highest average life expectancy worldwide (82.6 years), so I'm sure cases of Alzheimer's disease and senile dementia are much more frequent. Secondly, Japan has one of the highest suicide rates globally (about 24.4 suicides per 100,000 people), so clinical depression likely has some place in those numbers. If we're including eating disorders categorically within mental illness, its hard to ignore the fact that Japan is #2 internationally in eating disorder-related deaths (just below the U.S. of A.).

The above is what I could assume from some quick fact-checking. In my personal experience, I have encountered a number of individuals with some noticeable mental disability, whether it's mental retardation or some form of autism. I would say I notice it about as often as I did in the States. In fact, one of my students has some form of high-functioning autism. Dude is a beast at English when I can get him to focus, which is our biggest stumbling block.

From Nicolle via Facebook:

Q: Compare your connection to the culture before and after the national devastation.

A: If anything, I feel closer the culture and people of Japan. As the events continued to unfold post-quake - with the tsunami, the nuclear reactors, the rolling blackouts, and the food shortages - I was continually amazed at how calm everyone was reacting. It made the events of this epic (I hate to use this word, but I feel that it's completely apropos here) disaster seem much less than it was.

I'm not going to say that there was no looting (because there was), and I'm not going to say every decision made by the Japanese government and TEPCO were the best possible options (because they weren't). All I can comment on is the reaction that I observed from my home.

I stood shoulder-to-shoulder for more than an hour with people waiting to buy food and water at the grocery store. No one showed a single sign of irritation or anxiety. I waited in line for more than an hour to put a voluntary 2000 yen ration of gas into my vehicle, and I didn't hear a single car horn or see anyone try to cut in.

But most importantly, I talked to my students, who expressed concern for the current situation, but ultimately had high hopes about Japan's ability to recover from this. I will not say that this is because Japanese have a predilection for sitting back and accepting everything. Most of my student don't trust a word of what their government or TEPCO is telling them. These are free-thinking people, like everyone everywhere, who are doing the best they can in the worst of times. I couldn't be prouder to live amongst them.

From Joshua via Facebook:

Q: How insanely popular is Pokemon?

A: As popular as it's ever been. Which is to say, insanely. I would say more than 50% of my students (both children and adults) still play the games. There has been a new movie every year for the past 14 years, and the TV series is pushing 700 episodes. The newest series, Pokemon: Best Wishes!, is being heavily advertised on television right now. So yeah, it's big.

From Emily via Facebook:

Q: What has been the hardest thing about being away from home?

A: The obvious answer here is family and friends. While I miss my loved ones terribly, Skype has been a godsend for that. Other than that… Taco Bell. God, I miss Taco Bell.

Q: Was the application process difficult?

A: Not terribly, just long. It took us about three months of applying to find a job and three more months to actually get to Japan. I've detailed most of the application process in one of my first blog posts. Check it out here: "HOW DEY DO DAT?"

From Britney via Facebook:

Q: Is there anything you never thought you would miss about the states but realized that you do now that you can't have it?

A: Pretty much everything I miss about the States I kinda knew I would miss. Of course, the aforementioned Taco Bell. I also really miss [adult swim]. I think the most unexpected thing I miss is the convenience of doing pretty much anything. Until I achieve some level of Japanese fluency, things like paying my bills or asking for directions remain a small pain in my ass.

From Thomas via Facebook:

Q: Given that the universe is infinite and God is also infinite, would you like some toasted tako balls? via Facebook from Thomas

A: These things considered, I am not a huge fan of octopus. Thanks for the offer, though.

From Melissa via Facebook:

Q: What are the public restrooms like?

A: Most public restrooms are cleaner than they have any right to be, even in the most unexpected places - like train stations. Most sinks are automatic, and its anyone's guess at to whether or not the bathroom will provide a means of drying your hands. This is an occasional annoyance. Aside from these points, there are two major types of restrooms, or rather, toilets.

These two toilets exist on polar ends of a vast and chasmic spectrum. The first is a revelation. A toilet straight out of some high-tech utopian future landscape. This toilet has everything - heated seat, built-in sink, bidet, automatic air freshener, and even a courtesy sound effect maker to cover all of your rude bathroom noises.

The other, to put it simply, is little more than a glorified hole in the floor and the bane of my existence. There is plumbing and porcelain but not much else. One is expected to crouch over this torture device to do their business. I have yet to figure out how to do it without removing every article of clothing from the waist down. There are few things in this country I hate more than this toilet, no matter how clean it may be.

Q: Are there many SUVs?

A: Not really, although large cars have become very popular in recent years, specifically the "wagon" and "box" style.

Q: Are the parking spaces all really tiny?

A: Depends on the parking lot. Chain businesses usually have amply large parking spaces, and plenty to go around. The same cannot be said for locally owned businesses. Occasionally, these types of businesses will have no parking to speak of. They ask that their customers use some alternate means of transportation. It's amazing they can even stay open, but they do.

Q: Do the buses run 24/7?

A: Nope, and neither do the trains. Buses and trains usually stop around midnight and resume at around six in the morning. This, of course, depends on the area but is a general assessment.

Q: Do you guys have a car? If not, how do you get your groceries home?

A: Yes, we actually have two. Our company provides each with a vehicle to get to and from work and anywhere else we want to go within a 100 km radius. If we didn't have cars, we still have a "Mom & Pop" market across the street from us and a major grocery store within walking distance. Most people without cars ride bicycles or take public transportation everywhere.

Q: Do they have an equivalent to Sam's or Costco?

A: Yes, there is a Costco in the next prefecture. It usually takes about 2 hours to get there, so we don't go very often, but when we do, we make it count.

From Mitchell via Facebook:

Q: Do they teleport?

A: Not to my knowledge.

Q: Do they ever sleep?

A: Probably.

Q: Why are their hours so much more plentiful than the rest of the world?

A: I have yet to experience this phenomenon.

Q: How do they become JP ONLY?

A: Not sure how to answer this. It's probably just a Japanese thing.

From @alexkramermusic via Twitter:

Witness my bigness and sumo-size yukata.

Q: How often do you sense fear and/or admiration from Japanese strangers regarding your size? Any funny anecdotes?

A: I would say I sense neither fear nor admiration at any time from anyone. If I detect anything, it's usually just a bit of "good grief, he is big." When I went to Nikko, the hotel I stayed at did not have a regular yukata in my size, so I had to wear the "sumo-size." Rikishi are typically very admired. However, I am no sumotori - I'm only as big as one. I also use my size to threaten one of my students who does not like to do homework. I often ask him, "Mirai, if you don't do your homework, we will have to fight. Do you want to fight me?" He always replies with "No, Dustin. I might die." So, there's that.

THE EARTHQUAKE AND I

Last May, I was attending the Middle Tennessee Anime Convention in Nashville when the devastating floods occurred. Less than one year later, I was in Japan when it's largest earthquake in recorded history struck off the coast of Miyagi prefecture. Recently, it has been said that natural disaster seems to follow me. Destruction Kramer, a college sobriquet that has fallen into disuse, seems to be more apt now than ever.

As I recall, March 11 felt like the first real day of spring. To call it gorgeous would not be an exercise at romanticizing the elements of this historic event - it really was beautiful. Jessica and I woke up early to meet with our future landlords about finalizing the rental agreement for our new home. We signed the contract and paid our up-front costs, walking away with a sense of accomplishment. We had only been living here for seven months at that point, and we were already upgrading to a house, and a beautiful one at that. To say the least, we were proud.

We took the remaining time before work to grab a bite at a chain family restaurant called Gusto. This is only important because I ate the most delicious cheeseburger I've had since living in this country, and you're talking to a guy who loves MOS Burger. After my juicy burger and mound of Mt. Fuji fries, it was time for work.

I walked into the Ryugasaki New Town branch of my school and exchanged the usual greetings with my manager. I sat down and made a quick lesson plan for the day, making small talk with the manager until my first students arrived. My first class of the day was a free conversation class with two high-level women. They walked into class promptly at 2:45. We were just into our usual startup questions - "How was your week?," "Did you do anything special?" - when, at 2:46, the rumbling began. It started like many small earthquakes I had experienced up to that point. Light swaying and a bit of shaking.

"Oh, earthquake," I said with a smirk.

We sat for a few seconds, waiting for it to die down. It didn't.

"This is much longer than they usually are," said one of my students.

About that time, some 30 seconds into the initial shaking, the earthquake ramped up. Books in the classroom began to rattle off of shelves, and looking out the windows, people could be seen running from buildings.

"We need to get under the table," I suggested.

The students quickly moved with me under the table as the temblor continued for what seemed like an eternity. Heavy items could be heard crashing against the floor in the lobby of the school, causing the women to scream in surprise. Through the rattling windows, I saw signposts and light poles swaying.

"What should we do? Should we go anywhere?" I asked, panicking.

The women did not have an answer. They were as unexperienced as I was in a quake like this. We waited anxiously for the quake to slow down or get worse, but after awhile (maybe three minutes, although it felt like five or six) the shaking began to let up. Relieved but completely shaken up (no pun), we all ran outside to assess the situation. My students quickly decided that they should go home. I immediately tried to call Jessica, but the cell phone network was down. I tried and tried again to no avail.

After a few minutes outdoors, the manager and I made our way back into the school to begin the clean up. About a half an hour after the initial quake, we had our first aftershock, a quake that still outmatched any tremor I had experience up to the 9.0 magnitude of 30 minutes prior. The small amount of cleaning that we had completed was immediately undone. After this, a series of aftershocks occurring anywhere from 10 to 15 minutes apart began and lasted through the rest of the evening. Every time one started, I would rush to the door and make my way outside, only to realize that it was over before I got away from the building. It was exhausting.

I continued to call Jess on my cell and even on the school's landline, but nothing was going through. The stress of not being able to reach her was arguably more intense than that brought on by the bevy of aftershocks I was enduring. A couple of hours of separation anxiety later, my dumb ass finally attempted to check the school computer for an internet connection. Sure enough, the web was a-okay. I jumped onto Facebook and saw that Jess had already been posting, telling our friends and loved ones back home that she was safe. I followed suit and began updating my status.

Now, with no available means of communication via phone service, my students could not call and say whether or not they were coming to class. As expected, most didn't show up. The managers had to find a way to discuss what course of action to take regarding the school branches. This day, it was Facebook to the rescue. Many of the other foreign teachers like myself had created a Facebook group to begin communication amidst the madness. We put our managers on with decision-makers at the school, and before I knew it, we were closing shop for the day. At this point I did not realize that it would be almost two full weeks before I returned to work.

Where I live was not very affected by the earthquake or tsunami, but we certainly experienced a few of the side-effects. Bottled water, gasoline, and certain types of food were pretty scarce for a couple of weeks, but no one ever went hungry. Yeah, we had to wait in line for gas, and yeah, we couldn't find a loaf of bread to save our lives, but there was plenty other sustenance to go around.

It's been almost two months since the events of that terrible day, and the only thing I'm still dealing with is the occasion minor aftershock, which happens once to three times daily. I don't want to minimize what's going on north of me with the post-tsunami cleanup and the dealings with the nuclear reactors at the Fukushima Daiichi plant, but my area is safe. So safe, in fact, that it is providing refugees with temporary homes while they get their lives back on track. The situation is still grave, but I'm proud to say that my second home is dealing with all of it with amazing dignity and grace.

この古い家

About month prior to the Great Tohoku Earthquake of March 11, 2011, Jessica and I were frantically searching for a new place to live. Due to some confusing business dealings that we still don't fully understand, we were basically forced out of our cozy little LeoPalace apartment. We decided early on that we were going to use this opportunity to find a house, as opposed to just relocating to another typical cramped Japanese apartment.

One of our good friends (a hapless gaijin like ourselves) put us in touch with the rental company that leases his house. He was kind enough to take us down to their office and help us with translating Japanese landlord legalese, three levels of communication that I possess only rudimentary functionality in. Jess, being the nekomaniac she is, had only a single condition for our new home: they must allow us to have a cat. So, they sit us down with an agent, serve us green tea, and begin to show us currently available properties.

Eight hundred bucks for this one, six-fifty for that one; houses, apartments; no pets allowed, no cat/outdoor dog okay, and finally some cat-friendly locales. A few places were serviceable, but nothing felt perfect. If it was convenient, it wasn't pet-friendly; if it was pet-friendly, it was too small. We had compiled a short list of locations we wanted to visit, including a large studio apartment with only one parking spot. Since we have two cars, the parking was immediately brought up as a problem. The agent we were speaking to asked a colleague for a resolution, in which a covered car park was suggested at a house that was not being rented…

…And it suddenly dawned on the agent that she had not shown us this house. She printed out the listing and passed it to us. What we saw was almost beyond belief. A beautiful Japanese-style home, tiled roof, sliding doors and windows and all.

"It looks like it came right out of a Japanese horror movie," said Jessica.

Three tatami rooms, two toilets, a huge living room and kitchen. And the rent? Five hundred bucks per month. We were dumbfounded.

As we drooled over this black-and-white printout, a bit of trepidatious Japanese was quietly being uttered by our agent. We looked at our friend who slowly began to translate.

"It's a beautiful house, isn't it?," said the agent.

"Oh, yes. We love it," we replied.

"Yes, yes. Unfortunately, something…happened there."

Jessica burst into nervous laughter, realizing her comment from moments before. The agent took this as a bad sign, and quickly snatched the listing up and was about to close the topic for fear of losing a customer.

 "No, no!" said Jessica. "It's totally fine. What happened?"

The agent waited a beat, sat back down and began to speak through our translator.

"A family used to live there for many years. A father, a mother, and a son. The father became very sick and died in the house."

"Well, that's not as bad as I thought," I said.

She wasn't finished.

"Years later, the son killed his mother in the house."

Jess and I looked at each other.

"You know, this is exactly how horror films start," I said to Jessica.

"Oh, I know." Jessica turned to the agent with a single question, "So, are cats allowed?"

We've been living here more than a month at this point, ghosts and goblins be damned.

Some time after we learned about the events that transpired in the house, we finally got some details. Apparently, the son who killed his mother was in his fifties, putting his mom somewhere in here seventies or eighties at least. At this point, it doesn't seem like some act of youthful angst. It may have even been an attempt at euthanizing a suffering woman. In any case, after he offed his mama, the son attempted to commit suicide in the river near our house, but failed, and is now in prison for homicide.