Geisha, Interrupted

* * * * *

So I am dreaming that I am one of the main characters on a reality TV show, which, as it happens, has placed me right in the middle of a combat zone.  I've been captured by the enemy, and I spend my time in captivity reading a treatise that defends the practice of "deaths on reality television."  It says that the public simply cannot live without its Heroes and Martyrs, and I am supposed to understand this. 

Waiting for the executioner to come, I begin writing a final letter to my mother. I admit that going on this show was a very stupid idea after all.   

Just then, there is a knock on the door.  I wake up from the dark dream, and it is my birthday.  The postman hands me another heavy stack of poo-oriented cartoons, to be translated into English.  It seems like the faster I finish anything, the faster they give me more work to do.

Happy birthday to me.

I miss my mom.

If You Could Call it A Holiday...

This is what the Christmas Season looked like from over on my end, although I'm still not sure what's going on in most of these photos...

      

The Imperial Palace: Cuz Why Not...

So yesterday, Emperor Akihito/Heisei/Tenno-sama whatever you want to call him, celebrated his seventy-fourth birthday.  To witness his annual birthday address, commoners were allowed to cross the moat and enter the palace grounds.  This only happens a couple of times a year, so T and I woke up early yesterday morning to check it out.

The excursion was something I'd planned to do- over and over again- almost every December since I arrived in this country.  And yet, no matter how enthusiastic I felt about entering the forbidden palace grounds, I'd always been too hungover on the morning of the 23rd to actually get out of bed.

But not this year.

Basically, after you enter the imperial ground, you stand and wait for the royal birthday boy to come out and acknowledge his adoring public through the bullet-proof glass.

Then, when the emperor and his royal family come into sight, you are supposed to wave your rising sun flags madly and shout "banzai!" repeatedly, so that nobody can actually see the royals appear amidst all the fervor.

Oh wait, there they are...sort of.

Luckily, when the emperor began to speak the crowd calmed down enough so that we could actually see him.  At that, his highness embarked on a short speech that involved what is possibly the most uncontroversial topic ever: the weather that day.

In Japan the royals hardly speak about their true feelings, while precious little information is ever leaked about the controversies within the imperial household. 

This leaves quite a bit to the imagination.  As mine is especially active today, here is what I'd guess the royal family was thinking just then.  From left to right, they are: Crown Princess Masako, Crown Prince Naruhito, Emperor Akihito, Empress Michiko, and Prince Akishino. (Click on the picture to view a larger image.)   

Speaking of Poo...

Let's talk about the holidays, shall we?

This year I am working straight through Christmas, which I'm quite bitter about.  I thought it would be OK because I am mainly doing translation work, and translating is usually fun for me, but this new cartoon I took on...I really should have read through the script more thoroughly before accepting it.

It a cartoon for young children, about a 3cm tall mini-cow who is obsessed with feces, his own and otherwise.

I shouldn't be doing this, but I HAVE to show you just how the first few minutes of the premier episode unfold:

Screen	Sound
PANUP from “cute character x” to view his mother. She is grinning warmly.	Cute Character X : Good morning, mom. Mother: It’s already afternoon!
Noticing this, X jumps up in shock. He turns around and strikes a ready pose.	X:  Oh no, this can’t be!  I promised I’d go play on Oppai Mountain. (“oppai” means “boob,” but I left that untranslated) Mom, I’ve gotta go!
His mother is grinning.	Mother: Be careful!
X goes into a spin jump and lands with his bottom thrust out, in what is his signature pose.  With a burst of speed, he rushes across the farm.	X: “Poopy!” Mother:  See you later! X: Woo hoo
As X energetically runs through the farm, there is a large crashing noise and the entire screen shakes.  X is knocked off of his feet.  He is briefly unconscious, then wakes up and shakes his head as he notices his surroundings.	SE: Bang! X: Ahh! X: Where am I? X: Oh!
A huge figure appears on the road ahead.  Facing the other direction, X’s father looks over his shoulder and snorts. Slight PANUP	SE: Snort
FOLLOW, PAN X dashes through the bushes.	X:  Whoooah!
With a “dadan!” sound, a huge pile of dung comes into sight from around the bushes.	X: Wow!
Looking up at the large dropping, X becomes emotional.  With tears in his eyes, he runs in circles excitedly.	X:  Of course, this is dad’s.  It’s greaaaaat!
From his father’s large and noble figure, the camera pans down to X and the large dung.	X: Dad’s giant body and big horns are so awesome!
X’s eyes twinkle in the light.	X: Dad’s dung is my favorite thing ever!.... ..........OK!............My turn!
X’s face goes red as he tries very hard.  He sings his lines, and sticks out  his bum.	X: Pooo…Poooo…Pooop…Poopy!
Two small poops plop out and X looks at them.  He blushes and scratches his head.	Of course, I can’t ever be as awesome as dad…
The screen shakes with the father’s giant steps as he leaves.  X sees his father off.	Father: Moohahaha!
X strikes a valiant pose. Then with a start, he recalls where he is going and dashes off.	X: One day soon, I want to become able to make such an amazing pile of dung. Oh, gotta go!

And when I finish this episode, there are four more just like it to complete before this particular order is done.  So basically, I am going to spend this Christmas translating stories about poop.  And yet, just as I start to feel sorry for myself, I remember how I spent Christmas last year, and how I celebrated all the Christmases in my recent memory: utterly trashed, shouting at whoever is around and alternately bleeding. 

That in mind, my translation work doesn't seem like such a crap deal after all.  Pun intended.

Cause and Effect, Made Simple

via the Mainichi Daily News:

19 shooting deaths reported in Japan in first 11 months of 2007

Nineteen shooting deaths were reported in Japan during the first 11 months of the year, while the number of reported crimes involving guns stood at 54, National Police Agency data has shown.

The information comes on the heels of a deadly shooting that took place at a sports club in the city of Sasebo, Nagasaki Prefecture, on Friday, leaving two dead.

Gun crime peaked in 2001, when a total of 215 incidents were reported. Since then the figure has been declining, but this year the number has risen again. Police data showed that 19 people had been killed and 11 wounded as of Nov. 30.

Shootings this year included the killing of a high-ranking member of the Sumiyoshi-kai crime syndicate in February, and the murder of the mayor of Nagasaki in April. A total of 36 shootings, including these two crimes, involved people linked to gangs.

In response to the rising number of gun-related crimes by gangs, revisions to the Swords and Firearms Control Law and the Law on the Production of Weapons were passed in the Diet in November, stepping up penalties for the illicit firing of weapons.

If anyone fails to find these figures remarkable, I suggest you check out the number of gunshot deaths that occur in the US every DAY.

Girl, Expired

"Can I ask you a question about.....that thing over there where you hang the signs and stuff?"

I can't recall the Japanese word for "notice board". It will only come to mind later: "keijiban." Typical.

The police officer, standing authoritatively outside his corner box holding a big stick, doesn't give me any definitive response. I take that as a cue to keep talking to him until he notices me.

"There was a poster of a girl," I speak as politely as I can, "a fifteen year old girl who is missing. The poster was up on every police box in the city for the past month or two. Then, one day last week, all the pictures seemed to have been taken down at once. Why? Do you know what happened to her?"

He squints his eyes as if he is trying to understand, and trying to understand is a painful process.

"A girl," I repeat, "a fifteen year old girl. She was everywhere."

"Ah," he throws his head back, as if he finally gets it. "That sign has passed its time limit. It is expired."

"So the situation hasn't changed then? You're still looking for her?" I try to clarify.

"No. We are not looking for her anymore," he replies.

"So you found her?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know about that."

I am not surprised.

"Why," he asks, "have you seen her?"

"No, I haven't seen her." I'd switched to plain verb forms by then. Very impolite.

He looks at me quizzically, which I take as a cue to bow and run, before he started asking me about my alien status.

This photo of the sign in question was taken last month:

When these posters were all taken down so abruptly, I wanted to know what had become of the girl in question.

I'd resorted to asking the police officer myself, because I couldn't find any information on the missing girl anywhere else, despite passing her picture multiple times each day for over a month. I tried a Google search for her name, but couldn't find much besides a cast member in an erotic film who claimed to be a couple of years older. I couldn't find anything at all to suggest that the girl was or had been missing.

Her photos grabbed my attention over the past couple of months, largely because of the contrast between the two pictures of the girl in the posters. On one side there is a child, and on the other, a child prostitute. Perhaps I'm wrong to assume that she is or was in "enjo kosai," but there is such demand for said services in Japanese society that it's hard to envision much else.

Some months ago, I received the below advertisement in my mailbox, which appears to be for a schoolgirl prostitute service:

The lack of public outcry regarding the distribution of such notices, made me think of a comment that was made by "Lucie's Dad" on this site, a couple of months back. He wrote that:

Japanese society has a very sick element to it, and their normal society is too gutless to face up to it and do something about it.

This sums up the current situation rather well, I think.

Things I Must Learn to Do Before I Die

#1  How to play the Taiko drums like the group I got to see perform over the weekend:

Really, how cathartic does this look? And how cool are these chicks?!  I wanna hit things too!

Wait. . .What?

I came by this yesterday.  It's the "lucky poop" charm key chain:

Not a Clue

"I'm an idiot," T says as I walk in the door to our apartment.  He is sitting on the edge of the bed, holding up the screen of his (Nintendo DS) electronic dictionary in my direction.

It reads the word: 喪中­ , which is pronounced "mochuu" and means "mourning".

As it turns out, T has accidentally bought New Years Cards for his friends and family without bothering to look up the unfamilliar words in the calligraphy that decorates them.  As a result, he sits solemnly on the bed with a stack of cards which read the likes of: "the present year has regretfully been spent in mourning. . ."

"It happens to everyone," I try to cheer him up.

"I bought two bottles of conditioner the other day because I was too lazy to read the labels correctly," I lament, "and I masquerade as a translator!"

I had, in fact, just days ago, accidentally purchased a bottle of "shiruki smuuzu condishonaa" (silky smooth conditioner) because the words "shyampuu" and "shiruki smuuzu" start with the same letter and I had apparently been too lazy to read any further.  Plus, I could have sworn it was placed on the rack with the "shyampuu".

I am reminded of a passage on the author profile section of Bob's Blog (a recent discovery), in which he describes himself as a:

"5 year veteran living and working in Japan...I spent 1 year here in High-School, 1 year in College and 3 years at UMass majoring in Japanese language and Literature. So I've been here for a while, speak-read-write Japanese like a mofo, but still don't have a clue as to what's going on some days..."

Yeah, not having a clue what is going on despite over-education in the language and culture, I feel like that a lot.  Then again, that is another reason why I love living here.  Every day I learn something new and weird, whether I want to or not.

Bad Manners Make The Baby Tomatoes Cry

As googlism informed me the other day, Tokyo is the city that never slows down.  That in mind, any attempts at persuading the Japanese not to rush into commuter trains after the doors have already started to close, are basically futile.  You may as well be telling the British not to drink tea or the French to give up wine.

Still, the Japan Railways company is tireless in their efforts to stop commuters from throwing themselves into the closing doors.  This time, their desperation has led them to a unique campaign involving corny puns and anthropomorphous vegetables.

This poster managed to awkwardly fit the word for "tomato" into a typical warning not to rush into the train.

And the above sign highlights the phonetic appearance of the word "potato," in a phrase that would otherwise mean "lining up is the fastest way."

Not a vegetable but amusing all the same, this is kakekomanmosu-san, whose name is formed by combining the phrase "don't rush in" with the word "mammoth".

Although quite funny, I seriously doubt the effectiveness of this campaign.  The crying tomato babies just don't measure up to the the potential wrath of a Japanese boss, should an employee arrive late for work.