A Year in Japan

June 2002

The biggest problem with the World Cup in Japan for me was that all the games would be played while I was teaching. Yuka, the teaching assistant at Shimodate school let me commandeer the school TV/Video which never gets used so I could watch the highlights at 11pm when I got home. I could also take advantage of watching borrowed videos from teachers. Without a TV up to the start of the competition, I was completely unaware of any media build up. The Japanese seemed very disinterested and you wouldn`t even know the World Cup was here, unlike in Seoul, Korea where they were really up for it.

The nearest World Cup stadium to Tsukuba was at Kashima (Ibaraki) about 90 minutes away near the coast. On Sunday June 2nd, Argentina were playing Nigeria. It was apparently sold out, but since it was the only day when I could get within shouting distance of a game, I decided I`d drive up there and see what the atmosphere was like. Yuka said she`d come with me.

On a beautiful sunny morning we drove up to Kashima. I was expecting mass crowds, traffic jams etc. Instead, we found the roads completely empty (most people arrived on the train or buses). There was no indication of the World Cup until 3 kilometres from the stadium where the huge flags of the 6 nations playing at the stadium, had been set into a grassy hillside. When we saw drabs of Japanese walking towards the hidden stadium, we parked up for free at a 7/11 store and followed the crowds.

There were small areas of pitched tents displaying Japanese culture (free origami lessons by the Association of Womens Groups in Ibaraki; I got a freebie which said `with this folded paper crane, we wish meeting you again`), locals dressed in traditional kimonos and Samurai warrior dress and free face painting to get the Japanese, Argentinian or Nigeria flags painted on your cheeks. The Japanese were wearing Argentinian soccer shirts and were definitely backing the favourites.

There were various TV crews wandering around to capture the low key affair. I was the only westerner in this area and a microphone was thrust into my face. `Where are you from?` `England`. `Ar-so, an Engrish soccer hoorigan?` I tried to explain that there would be no problem in Japan since the trip would be too expensive for the average thug. I did try and get in `where are the women locked up around here?` I discovered a week later, from a student that my interview was shown on Tokyo News Channel 12. My 2 seconds of fame in Japan.

We walked onto the isolated stadium which was in the middle of rice paddy fields. There were no police visible, just security guards in uniforms directing people and using megaphones to pass on information in Japanese. Four major entertainment/information centers had been sent up. Rows of open tents selling different foods from around the world (labels in both Japanese and English), beer, costumed locals, silly games to play. There were hoards of fat wealthy Argentinans (I thought they were broke at the moment) dressed in fancy dress and blue and white, posing for photos taken by the Japanese. The occasional giant black Nigerian supporter would walk past with a beer in his hand. A few Irish supporters were also there. They would be playing Germany here three days later. It was all so relaxed and laid back and you wouldn`t have guessed it was the centre of the World`s attention this afternoon.

We hung around soaking it all up. No chance of getting a ticket I thought. Someone walked past with a sign in England/Japanese `Anyone selling tickets?`. A Japanese couple approached him with tickets. A few of us gathered around. Another Japanese couple bought 2 tickets for 15,000 Yen each (about £75). An Argentinan approached us and offered tickets for 20,000 Yen. I was happy to just be there.

Around 45 minutes before kick off, the Japanese couple with spare tickets approached us. Yuka told them that we only had 10,000 Yen (£50) each. A short discussion in Japanese and we were offered the tickets. I had to make a quick decision. In the back of your mind goes the thought `are these real tickets?`. But in Japan it didn`t seem a problem. I looked at the original ticket price and we were only paying 2000 Yen more (about £10) . `How come we got them so cheap` I asked Yuka as we walked off. `The Japanese are very honest people` she replied. No shit.

We were efficiently guided to the correct gate in Area 3 . En route, we got free face painting. I opted for Nigeria, Yuka had Argentina. Security was minimal. Just a wave of a metal detector and you put any metal objects into a plastic bag. While beer cans were not allowed, you could have taken in large plastic bottles of booze had you wished and on this piping hot day, how I wished. Beer was available in the stadium but at badly inflated prices. There was a free handout of the team line ups and photos. Volunteer attendants bowed liked nodding dogs and said `Welcome to the World Cup`. I couldn`t believe I was about to attend the World Cup for the price of a normal football game in England.

Our seats turned out to be on the lower level right behind the Nigerian goal beneath the video screen. It was a tiny stadium with about 44,000 seats and very intimate. We found our seats next to the original Japanese couple who`d bought the 15,000 Y tickets. There were at least 200 empty seats around us and the 15 rows beneath us were empty. 5 minutes before kick off, they were still empty and we moved down to just above the camera boom above the goal. At least 10% of the stadium was empty. I thought everything was sold out. (I discovered later on that 100,000 tickets for many games had not reached the buyers in time; another FIFA cockup. They only have 4 years to get organized).

The crowd was mostly Japanese. The Argentinan fans dominated the far end and tried to create some atmosphere. A couple of hundred Nigerian fans were above us on the upper tier, bare-chested , banging drums and chanting. The Japanese just looked at them with their mouths open like they were strange aliens to Planet Japan. Since the competition was only in it`s third day, the Japs still didn`t understand the idea that you should cheer and yell loudly. They`d applaud politely until they started to copy the foreigners. During the national anthems, every one stood to attention and there was complete silence during the music. During the game, the Nigerians attempted the `Mexican wave`. It would die after 100 metres. The Japs didn`t know what to do. The game was a close one. In the first half, with Argentina attacking our goal, we had all the action right in our faces. They finally scored one goal at the other end in the second half.

As soon as the full time whistle blew, we left our seats. We passed lines of volunteers all bowing to us and saying goodbye. We were outside the stadium within one minute and back in the car and away within 20 minutes and the roads were still empty. I couldn`t believe how easy it had been and marveled at Japanese efficiency.

We roared back to Tsukuba. England were playing Sweden two hours later. Sunday afternoon traffic delayed the return but I was in our local bar 15 minutes after kick off to meet English Steve. The bar had hired a giant video screen. I thought the place would be packed but there were just 8 of us, including 4 Japanese. I was still not convinced that Japan really cared about the World Cup.

(World Cup Continued)

But it only took two games to set the country alight. Korea played their first game and the Korean crowds turned up en mass in red soccer shirts and howled the ground down. It was one of the most impressive sights I`d ever seen at a soccer game. The following night, the Japanese played their first game and copying the Koreans, turned up in blue soccer shirts. One goal down, then one goal ahead, the game was finally a 2 all draw and the media went into a frenzy. Japan had nearly won. Maybe the World Cup was as exciting as they`d been told. For the next few days, the media showed non stop footage of Japanese supporters going apeshit. It was like watching a country being educated in the art of crowd participation. Suddenly, everyone was interested. All my adult classes were dominated by talk of the World Cup, even the women. David Beckham was the most popular player because he was the `most handsome`. `What, even with his skunk haircut?` I laughed.

Japanese soccer coverage on TV is rather different. It is always led by a female presenter who is surrounded by four male `experts`. They nod and grumble replies to her questions and analysis of the action. The players are always interviewed by females too. I don`t know what anyone is saying, but they seem to be trying to make football look sexy.

Having my own TV, meant that I was spared the endless nights at Steve`s but Argentina vs England was the crunch game and I joined 10 other teachers at his flat on the other side of Tsukuba, to watch the game `live` a few hours after it had taken place, unaware of the final result. Inevitably, we had to educate the Americans and Canadians about the rules and tactics, but they seemed to enjoy watching the Brits (Steve, Lindsay and me) curse and jump around during the action. The neighbours could not have been happy when we got the penalty. It was about 1.30am when we screamed the place down.

The following Sunday (June 9th), at a loose end, I decided to drive into Toyko and just go exploring by car and try and get lost on another baking hot day. The roads were full of motorbike gangs, where once a week, normal Japanese men and youths, get out their bikes and go for a Sunday ride with their mates. Lots of souped up cars with no exhausts shattered the quiet ambience. The police were out on force and doing anyone for anything. I saw a comical sight of a manly truck driver passing by, whose tough image was marginally tarnished by the fact that his dashboard was full of fluffy `Hello Kitty` dolls. Ah, bless. Roadkill statistics are sadly lacking in Japan. To date, only 5 flat cats and 1 frog have been spotted by the side of the road.

As I drove through towns, gangs of volunteers were cleaning up the litter off the streets and from the bushes. Community spirit and a pride in your neighbourhood seems to be paramount here. I can`t imagine many westerners getting up early on a Sunday morning for a street clean up. The lush vegetation is sprouting up like jungles in the warm humid climate and the roads are also full of workers dressed in straw hats and machinery to trim the bushes to keep everything neat and tidy. They would fight a losing battle if the manicures were left for just a week. Around my flat, the rice paddies are also sprouting up from submerged fields. On my irratic jogs, I trip over white egrets, cranes and ducks that are taking advantage of the cultivation. It was just before the short wet season and the humidity was stifling in the 35`c temps. I averaged at least 3 showers a day and it took an hour to dry off.

I ended up at the Saitama stadium in the northern suburbs (where England had played Sweden). There was no game here today, but Japan were playing Russia in their crunch game that evening in Yokohama, just outside Tokyo. As I approached the stadium, there were hundreds of Japanese teenagers (a 50 50 split in boys and girls) in blue soccer strips. They had all come to buy tickets to watch the game on a giant video screen. On a training ground next door, maybe 5000 kids all crammed in and rehearsed chanting and raising of fists. It was an interesting spectacle to watch them pretend to be western supporters. The whole country had gone football mad.

Back in Tsukuba that night, I returned to the local bar to watch the Japanese game with a dozen teachers. Unlike last week`s deserted attendance, the place was packed with 200 Japanese supporters. A second TV had been set up outside because of the numbers. Sweating in the humidity while sipping ice cold beers, the atmosphere was electric and the place went into melt down when Japan scored and finally won with a very convincing performance. The win secured their passage to the next round and cranked the country up to a new level of frenzy. When Japan played Tunesia in the `knock out round`, every public school in the country ground to a halt so that all the children could watch the afternoon game live on TV.

In between the World Cup, I still had a job to do. I had my three month probation meeting with Margot who said everything was going ok, that she was proud that she had recruited me and that new teachers would be arriving soon to reduce the workload. It was just as well. In the first week of June, I did another 70 hour week of time spent at schools, driving and preparation before things settled back into the old routine. The heavy hours were becoming a treadmill and I was starting to go through the motions, doing as little as possible to plan the lessons and wing them. I just didn`t have the time or energy to plan new exciting stuff.

I attended public elementary school every Thursday morning in June on top of my normal schedule. All these schools are in the middle of lovely rural countryside about 20km outside Tsukuba. I follow Ken, a teaching assistant from HQ in the car like the local celebrity being escorted in for his next appearance to open a supermarket. At Obari School I had two classes of 20 kids for 45 minute lessons. The Japanese teachers had it all planned and I was just there to help with the pronunciation. Today they learnt animals and we played `Animal Basket`. Everyone wore a headband with an animal on it and sat in a circle with a spare chair. Someone would yell one or two animals and those kids with that animal would have to get up and change seats bouncing off each other like pinballs. The loser would yell the next names. It was a bit like musical chairs without music. I taught them the `Goodbye song` while the teacher played the tune on an electric organ. It was the first elementary lessons where I hadn`t left like a bucket of sweat. The headmaster sat and chatted over Japanese tea with my teaching assistant Ken translating for me.

When I told the 7 year olds at Azuma School, that I was from England, there was a flood of yells of `Beckham` and `Owen` and, for the first time `Seaman` (the English goalkeeper). I drilled two 20 strong classes to pronounce an apple/a banana etc and we played `Fruit Basket`. During these public school visits, the teachers take photos of me teaching the class or wave video cameras around. Obviously, the kids don`t get to meet a westerner much and I must remember to chase up the `Fat English Bastard` portfolios to try and get some copies. As I left at lunchtime, gangs of tiny kids dressed in white smocks and face masks, ran around delivering school milk and lunches to the classrooms. It was a comical sight that looked like the Seven Dwarfs had left Snow White to join the `ER` TV show.

I had a minor crisis at the Kindergarten class at Shimodate. One afternoon, I got the 5 year olds to try and write out the numbers 1 to 10. One girl could not do an 8 and cried her head off for most of the lesson while her mother tried to comfort her. It was an example that even at an early age, failure is not acceptable. The girl was disappointed at herself because she had failed. No wonder there are so many suicides at Senior High Schools after University entrance exams. The expression `Zero Defects` comes to mind. During the `command game` I now have my kindys jumping off the 3 ft table and hope to teach them parachute rolls soon (as you do).

At Shimtosuma, another moody teenager, Koutarou, had moaned to the Teaching Assistant that I was `mean` to him. It turned out that when we did spelling tests on the board, he always came last and felt victimized. So no more spelling tests in that class. I`ll just slap him instead.

Last week we had `Parents Week`, whereby parents are allowed to sit in on the classes to see how their children are progressing. I only had a handful during the week and stuck to my usual lessons of teaching them something new, rather than just drilling the kids on what they already knew to make them look more impressive. But for the 7 kindergarten kids at Shimodate, I had all 7 mothers in the same room too. It was bedlam.The moody girl forgot how to say `May I come in?` and howled in despair. Give it a rest, kid. It`s only the English language. I have yet to hear about my feedback from the parents but think it went ok. But I have had rave reviews from all the public elementary school classes.

The paint drying speed of Japanese traffic and maze of endless traffic lights continues to taunt me and one evening around 10.30pm on the way home from Shimotsuma, I was finally stopped by the police for speeding. It was an empty three lane highway with a speed limit of, wait for it, 50 kph. Late at night, with few cars, I was doing 80kph. Out of nowhere, there was the flash of red lights. I pulled over immediately, I got out of the car. A policeman ran up, took one look and thought `Oh Christ, a foreigner. It will take hours with the paperwork`. He bowed and just said `Please slow down`. I garbled some polite thanks in Japanese and drove off, relieved to be let off. The fines here are extortionate. Yuka, at Shimodate, later laughed and complained that I had had the benefit of discrimination in favour of foreigners..

In mid June, a new teacher arrived from England. James, 28, was a South London boy from Croydon. Over the last two summers, he had taught English in Slovakia (someone has to), and also Hungary and then spent the winters in France as a snowboard instructor. He is your typical down to earth English, beer drinking, soccer mad, London lad and he soon became part of the Danielle/Bob drinking group. James has also become my morning jogging companion after the heavy nights.

The World Cup has helped to improve the bonding of many of the teaching staff and my social life exploded with the opportunities to watch the games at Steve`s, the local pub or even people coming to use my TV. Life has been somewhat hectic and it has not been the case of burning the candle at both ends, as taking a blowtorch to the middle of it. Steve lives in a different block of flats about 20 minutes drive away. Sam and Christina, a really nice American couple live next to him and Joan, a bubbly 24 year old Canadian girl lives above. So before the taped England vs Nigeria Game which everyone attended, Danielle and I visited Sam and Christina, and after the taped game which ended at 2am, we headed upstairs to Joan`s until 5.30am on a Thursday morning. They had all been here for many months so were full of useful information. As I drove Danielle home in the morning light, she cursed `I can`t believe how many dawns we`ve seen. Our socialising hours are outrageous. And you have to teach in 4 hours` (one of those Thursday public schools).

The following morning, after I was recovering from a jog and making breakfast, there was a terrible rumble and the whole flat shook violently. My cup of tea shook enough to spill over the table. It was an earth tremor and only the second I have felt since I arrived, but it was quite a biggie that took out lifts and traffic lights in the centre. It was an interesting way to start the day about 11am.

On Saturday night after a full day at Shimodate, I zipped back to Grandale (our block of flats), and Lindsey drove Danielle, James and me over to Steve`s for the midnight showing of England vs Spain. All the usual suspects were there and we fell about laughing as England trounced Spain. In an attempt to wind up the English teachers, I pronounced that Brazil would kill us in the next round. Steve said `Put your money where your mouth is`, and a rather large amount of beer has been bet on the outcome next Friday. I may have to stay in for a month to pay for it. The party finished at 3am and recommenced at Danielle`s until 6am (`another bloody sunrise`).

I had a full Sunday planned and didn`t even bother going to bed. In the morning, I went for a hike around a different section of the Mt Tsukuba mountains and then met Chieko at Ninomiya Park at 1pm to play tennis. I thought her name was Suzuki, but that`s her surname. We were joined by a Chinese man and woman. We played for a couple of hours in stifling humidity and fortunately, not having played for 3 years, it all came back rather quickly. I was amazed to discover that it costs under £3 to rent a court for 2 hours!

Ushiku Big Buddha

Back at the flat, I picked up Danielle for a little excursion late on Sunday afternoon. Sam had told us that the largest statue in the world was on our doorstep and noone knew about it. So we drove to Ushiko, 30 minutes away in search of the Ushiko Amida Buddha. `You`d think it would be visible for miles` I said as we drove around. Suddenly this huge great grey standing Buddha loomed above a tree line in the middle of nowhere. This is the world`s tallest statue and is in no guidebook (so eat your heart out Lonely Planet). There is a certificate from the `Guinness Book of Records` to confirm it. But the publicity is so naff that no one knows the thing exists. I have no idea why it was built here in 1993. Probably seemed a good idea at the time.

Photo of Ushiku Big Buddha

The blurb at the site says `The great image of Amida Buddha, which stands in the centre of the Jodo Teien garden is 120m high (the Statue of Liberty as a comparison is only 40m high), symbolic of the 12 beams of light said to emanate from Amida`s body and reach throughout the world. Standing upon a lotus blossom, Amida`s feet are poised to signify his vow to step forward and search out all those who are lost within the impure world with its five defilements. In turn the position of Amida`s hands symbolize his acceptance of all sentient beings without exception`

Wandering through a small alleyway of stalls selling religious things and food (Buddha Balls anyone ? which were cakes), we entered a quiet empty garden complex. Quiet enough to hear a chorus of frogs croaking beneath the waterlillies in a large pond. It was all very minimal. Just a small entrance to the gardens where you banged a bell to tell Buddha you were popping in, and along a long plain paved to a large iron cauldron where you could add your incense sticks. As you approached, this enormous dark statue with classic Buddhist hand gestures loomed above you like a metal robot who had gone funky. You could pay to go up in a lift to his chest and peer out of tiny windows but we didn`t bother. There was also a small elegant manicured Japanese garden with a pond full of carp. These were seriously sized fish, some over two feet long and fed endlessly by the visitors. The carp didn`t hang around. They hung out by the side of the pond half out of the water with their large round mouths gaping. I could bend down and touch them before throwing in a small bag of fish feed. It was like watching a bunch of Pirahnas going at each other.

Back at the flat, James and Lindsey popped around for gin and tonics and a video before we all headed to the local bar at 8.30pm to watch Ireland vs Spain live on the big screen. It was Margot`s birthday and about a dozen teachers had turned up for the game and occasion. I got to bed around 1am on Monday morning. Just another relaxing weekend as usual.

Once again, the English soccer team snatched defeat from the jaws of victory and crashed out. At least, the result left me with a full fridge of beer from a winning bet on the result. I`ll miss all those late nights sat watching World Cup games as an excuse not to go to bed. James, the new teacher from London managed to get hold of a ticket in Tsukuba the day before the game for 30,000Y (160 English Pounds) and headed off for the game on his day off.

Yuko, the Director of Bernard School was doing a PR job with the teachers, taking one out for lunch every few days. She had booked a lunch date with me, but when I arrived at HQ, a special meeting was about to take place. As a `valued` teacher, she gave Ken, the Japanese assistant who accompanied me to the public school classes, some money and told him to take me out. She`d rearrange another lunchtime with me. Ken drove me to a hotel (oo-er) which did special priced lunches and after having it, I can see why. The entire meal was in miniature. I ordered soup, sea bass, side salad, bread and chocliate gateaux. The soup was an inch deep in a small bowl, the sea bass was about 4 inches long, the side salad took three forkfuls, the bread was two small chunks and the choclate gateaux was an inch wide at the widest point! Even the glass of wine was half a glass of wine. Still, I had a good chat with Ken (to make the food last longer) before going home and having another lunch. I noticed that the hotel/restaurant did not take credit cards. This is still mostly a cash society.

Ken told me about his prospective wedding in Hawaii in the summer. He will take his fiance and both sets of parents for a week`s holiday there and have a legal wedding ceremony. This trip will be six times cheaper than getting married in Japan where everything costs a fortune. He offered me an old TV for my budding collection of freebies in my room. I have also added a large electric fan which I found. It`s a bit like living with `Steptoe and Son`, but why pay for the stuff when the Japanese throw out perfectly good items.

In mid June, the short wet season started with a vengeance. It peltered down all day. Wrath of God stuff. The roads soon flooded which was good fun on the way to work. The following day, it would be sunny and the humidity would start to build. Within 24 hours, another torrential downpour would occur. Repeat ad nuseum for the next fortnight. I got soaked one day, suntanned the next.

Danielle had a visitor. Simon, her old boss in Brisbane and good mate had made his annual trip back to England to see his family and stopped off in Tokyo on the way back to check up on Danielle on behalf of all her mates and family in Brisbane who were missing her.

A bunch of us took Simon out to a Japanese Izakaya restaurant. It was called `Family Pie`. You removed your shoes at the door and put them in a locker. We were led to a wooden compartment which contained a long table and seating for about a dozen people. It was like eating in your own wooden padded cell, where noone could see or hear you. These were obviously useful for business meetings (or keeping westerners away from the locals). To get the waiter`s attention, you pressed a buzzer on the wall. I had been suffering from a sore throat for days and ducked out of the visit to a karaoke bar where the others were also able to rent their own room on an hourly basis. It seems a strange Japanese phenomenon to have to pay for privacy in a country where everyone is supposed to be seen to be sociable.

Simon was good fun and quite overwhelmed by how Danielle had got herself set up, that she had nice teacher friends to socialize with, that Tsukuba was a nice place to live and how wonderful Japanese people were. We tracked down a new second hand place and he bought Danielle a second hand TV/Video for £27 as a present. In between lessons, I dropped him at Tsukuba Bus Station for his bus to Narita Airport. He wanted to return later in the year and bring his girlfriend. He was really struck by the place.

I had my final June public elementary school session at Yaita School. This was a strange affair. The 2 x 45 minute lessons were held in the school gym and both classes were 60 students! They filed in and sat in rows and a teacher would bark at someone who would then rise and lead the other kids with an `Ohayo gozamus` (Good morning) and welcome message in Japanese. We had a lengthy Q&A session where they could ask Uncle Bob any question which Ken translated for me eg do you like David Beckham? I had to give them an introduction to family members and pets (did you know that hamster in Japanese is er… hamster?). It was difficult to drill 60 kids at once. To pad out the lesson, I gave them all a slip of paper with a family member and they had to run around making up 6 members of a family plus a family pet. I think I`ll invent a `Redneck` family (eg Deliverance movie) game next time and see what family permutations arise. Then I repeated the entire lesson to a second set of 60 kids. As long as you kept them running around and screaming at the top of their lungs, they seem to be happy.

This month, I picked up my `Gaijin card` (foreigners card), which allows me to stay in Japan for the next five years should I choose, as long as I renew my work visa annually. It also means that I can buy a car and be treated as a resident as opposed to a tourist.

I also got paid for the first time. I have been living off my own money so far and was paid two months salary (with a third month held back; the Japanese work one month in advance, so I will get two months salary plus a bonus when I leave). Out of the salary, my rent, car rental, gas, electric, water, and telephone bills were removed, and all my claimed petrol mileage was paid. There were receipts for all bills and two statements. One in Japanese and one in English which explained all the numbers and final total which was paid into my bank account.

I visited my bank to try out my new bank card to access cash. Inevitably it was all in Japanese and I shoved in my card a few times and pushed a few buttons to see what happened before the card was shoved out with a message which probably said `Are you pissed?`. Then I noticed a leaflet nearby that had all the instructions in English and it all made sense. Sort of.

On the third Sunday of June, I had another busy day. I drove down to Yuka`s (Shimodate Assistant) who drove me to the Shinti Matsuri (festival) at Daiho Shrine in Shimotsuma. It was full of small dark, wooden temples and shrines with white paper hangings to ward off evil. We walked through the maze of buildings down to a field where a tent had been erected. Here, a tea ceremony was being displayed. `Chanoyu` (the way of tea) has been a Japanese specialty for centuries. The prepreparation and drinking of the tea is conducted according to a highly stylized ritual. A woman sat in a plain brown kimono with strap on backing, and first purified a round bowl with special water which had been brought in from a holy spring. Then she added a green sludge with a drop of water. The mixture was stirred slowly with what looked like a shaving brush. Then she arose and offered it to me with both hands. It looked like nuclear reactor waste and had a sharp, bitter tannin taste. Not exactly my cup of tea (ha ha!) but different. Another lady handed out a large lump of sugar that was eaten separately with the tea. Behind the scenes, some women were preparing the green sludge. One of them was Chieko (my tennis partner) who had told me that this was taking place here. Everyone was also given a free sunflower plant which is now standing on my balcony.

I found it strange to see Japanese people taking photos of something that is part of their culture like they were tourists. But I suppose rampant consumerism is destroying the passage of many traditional skills like these. It would be like me taking a photo of a plate of fish and chips in England.

A bit later, the major event took place in some woods nearby; traditional archery on horseback. It was a small intimate affair with maybe 500 people finally assembling to watch the proceedings at close range. A 2 metre wide path of deep sand had been laid down in a straight line over 120m and roped off on either side. Male volunteers, dressed in navy blue costumes and white designs smoothed down the path with rakes and brooms like a bunch of medieval roadsweepers. Three beautifully groomed sable horses were saddled up by three attendants dressed in flowing golden gowns and hats with pointed front brims. They wore white socks with wooden soles inside the socks; not a great idea with all the mud around, but detail and decoration is everything to the Japanese.

Three riders/archers appeared. Two men and one woman. They were dressed in traditional multicolored, ornate and glittering gowns, and pointed brimmed hats. They mounted the horses and disappeared into the woods for a good 20 minutes to have the attendants fuss over the horses/riders` appearances. Then the riders walked the horses down the course once, then cantered. Two targets stood at 25m and 85m on the left hand side. They were about 0.5 m square with a circular black bulleye sprayed on.

An attendant would lead the horse around to the start, while the rider prepared his 4ft bow and arrow. At the turn the attendant would yell `Hai` and the horse would gallop down the course unreined. The rider had about two seconds to line up the first target and fire and then reload, by grabbing a second arrow, putting it in the bow and line it up for the next target a few seconds away. They made it look easy, but you forgot that they were not steering the horse, but relying on it to keep a straight line. The female rider`s horse tripped a couple of times and the front legs collapsed into the sand, nearly throwing her off. But after a couple of runs, they were often hitting both targets on each run. The wooden targets split on impact with a loud crack. The volunteers would then dutifully hold out red and white flags across the course, while the targets were replaced for the next rider. It was an interesting spectacle which lasted an hour and was something I had never seen before.

I rushed back to Grandale (my apartment block) to meet James and a new teacher, Keith who`d just flown in from Thailand. Keith was a 30s something Aussie who was raised in Papua New Guinea where his English father was a missionary. He is a tea totaller. Shock horror. But he could be very useful as the police start hammering drivers on a new drink driving campaign.

Tom, an Irish teacher was having a big Birthday BBQ out at his flat about an hour away. His Japanese landlord and family had prepared everything. Everyone just bought food and booze. When we arrived at 6.30pm, the party was in full flow. The Japanese cooked everything and walked around serving it. It was nice to have another large social gathering where most teachers had turned up to exchange stories and gossip. I often don`t see people for weeks. The flat was near a lake and when it turned dark, we had a bag of fireworks to let off. Unfortunately, we couldn`t read the instructions in the dark or in Japanese and so when we lit one, noone knew what would happen next.

Finally; I recently read `Rising Sun` by Michael Crichton (it was made into a movie). Written in 1992, it has, I feel, some interesting comments about Japan and I submit some which I have found to be true, though things may have changed a little since it was written.

"Everything you do will have meaning to them. Every aspect of your appearance and behaviour will reflect on you" (p23)

"In Japan, every criminal gets caught. For major crimes, convictions run 99%. So any criminal in Japan knows from the outset he is going to get caught". (p82)

"Everything works in Japan. In a Tokyo train station, you can stand at a marked spot on the platform and when a train stops, the doors will open right in front of you. Trains are on time. Bags are not lost. Connections are not missed. Deadlines are met. Things happen as planned. The Japanese are educated, prepared and motivated. They get things done. There`s no screwing around!" (p83)

"The Japanese structure their businesses in large organisations called `keiretsu`. There are 6 major ones in Japan and they are huge. For example, the Mitsubishi Keiretsu consists of 700 separate companies that work together or have interrelated financing or interrelated agreements of various sorts. That means a Japanese cooperation never stands alone." (p110)

"Japan has never accepted Freud or Christianity. They`ve never been guilty or embarressed about sex. No problems about homosexuality, no problem with kinky sex. Just matter of fact. The Japanese can`t understand why we get so worked up about a straight forward bodily function" (p127)

"The Japanese think strategically. They`re in for the long haul and for how things will look 50 years from now. They don`t care about short term profits at all. They want market share. Business is like warfare to them. Gaining ground. Wiping out the competition. Getting control of the market."(p239)

"The Japanese are masters of indirect action. It`s their instinctive way to proceed. If someone in Japan is unhappy with you, they never tell you to your face. They tell your friend, your associate, your boss. In such a way that word gets back. The Japanese have all these ways of indirect communication. That`s why they socialise so much, play so much golf, go drinking in Kareoke bars. They need these extras channels of communication because they can`t come out and say what`s on their minds. Its tremendously inefficient, wasteful of time, energy and money. But since they cannot confront, because confrontation is almost like death, it makes them sweat and panic - they have no other choice. (p 285)

" Most people who`ve lived in Japan come away with mixed feelings. In many ways, the Japanese are wonderful people. They`re hard working, intelligent and humerous. They have real integrity. They are also the most racist people on the planet. They`re prejudiced so they assume everyone else must be too." (p380)